Page 14 of Night of the Vampire
"Because! That's why not. Besides, we don't know for sure she's in danger. Nothing has happened to her up till now. And I don't think an outsider would be overlooked by Judy Moss and her coven."
"Don't we?" I asked her. "I saw the red-haired one—Angel—leaving Lizzy's store last night. She did not look happy. Which means she didn't know Lizzy was here in the city."
"So, let me get this straight. The way you're making this okay in your own mind is by telling yourself that if we take this woman and force her to live with us—if we can even do that—then she will be grateful to us because we will protect her from the witches in the quarter. And in return, she'll fall to her knees before you and offer us her own magic—and maybe even her life—in return. Is that about right?"
It didn't make as much sense hearing her lay it out like that. Sinking down onto the edge of the bed, I rested my elbows on my knees and ran my hands through my hair. "Tell me then, Kenya. Tell me what the fuck else I'm supposed to do."
She was quiet for a long time. And then she pulled my hand from my hair and held it in her lap.
I lifted my head and met her eyes.
"You could just let me go."
Anger filled me. "That's not an option," I told her again.
"Killian..."
"No, Kenya. Shite! That's not a fucking option. Lizzy will come here, and she will help you. And I will do whatever I have to do to make her do it." I stood and made my way across the room.
"Then why haven't you done it already?" Kenya called after me.
I paused with my hand on the doorknob as she fell into a coughing fit. Then I opened the door and walked out.
Chapter 6
Killian
I thought about what Jamal and Kenya had said all the way to the Quarter. Were they right, then? Would Lizzy only end up hating me if I forced her hand?
But even if she did, so what? Why the hell did I care?
The funny thing was, I hadn't even realized I was seriously considering doing it until I'd spoken the words out loud.
Parking the car at Crescent Park, I turned off the engine but didn't get out right away. Cloaked by darkness, I scanned the area around me before I opened the door, calming my emotions and reaching out with my senses. Distracted as I was, I didn't want to be taken by surprise and be the next one lying in my death bed. Striking down someone as sweet as Kenya was no doubt the witch's way of warning us.
But for what? That was the question I had no answer to.
I stayed vigilant as I climbed out of my Tesla, but I felt no eyes on me, no magic in the air. Only the muddy smell of fish from the Mississippi river.
There were still some stragglers in the city from the Halloween celebration and the path leading to the French market was crowded, even at this time of night. That was good. I drew less attention that way. I could blend in with the tourists while keeping an eye out for any who may not be happy to see me.
When I got to Lizzy's store, she had already closed up for the night. The door was locked the lights were out. Feeling unusually tired and restless, I heaved a sigh and turned around, my eyes scanning the crowd. I realized I didn't even know what time it was. The Quarter would be awake until the early morning hours, so it was hard to tell. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket, I saw it was just after ten. Lizzy must be home by now.
Trailing behind a group of young guys celebrating what appeared to be a bachelor party by all the talk of this being his "last chance," I made my way to her apartment. The windows were dark, and there was no movement inside.
I stood undecided for a long time. I could track her like an animal, or I could stop obsessing and go check on my club. Lizzy would still be here tomorrow. And, the gods willing, Kenya would still be alive. The bad thing about the spell that was cast on her was that it was long and drawn out and made her suffer. The good part was that it gave me much needed time to make a decision that would impact my coven. One way or the other.
The Quarter was alive with humans, young and old, enjoying the city. Drinks in hand, they stumbled up and down Bourbon street in small groups and large. The women pulling up their shirts for cheap plastic beads that rained down on them from the balconies. The men ogling them like they've never seen a pair of knockers before in their life. It was a city of mystery and celebration and very few inhibitions, and I fed off the energy around me, letting it revive my spirits and feed my hunger.
Making my way around one large group blocking the middle of the street, I saw the purple neon lights of The Purple Fang, my club. And one of the few male strip clubs in the Quarter. With a nod at Kenny, my human bouncer, I went inside. My eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness, lit only by purple and white laser lights that danced across the stage before flaring out to light up the people filling the tables on the floor. In the back room, black leather booths with high sides made up the perimeter of the room, spaced apart for plenty of privacy, with room in the center for dancing.
Dae-Jung was up on the stage in nothing but a pair of cowboy boots and rip-away jeans, a group of women at his booted feet waving dollar bills. With a wink at the one who held the largest wad of cash, he turned around, showing off the massive green skull tattoo that covered his muscular back, surrounded by red flowers and vines. And when he ripped off his jeans, there was a collective gasp even over the deep beat of the music. Hands reached for the flowers that continued down his body, covering his left hip and disappearing beneath the strip of cloth covering his cock, tendrils of vines and flowers hanging down his thigh to just above his knee.
Dae gave me a smile when he spotted me. Dropping to his knees, he tightened his abs for his admirers and allowed the women to tuck their money into his G string. One girl reached up and ran her hand down his arm, admiring the sharp cut of muscle. I couldn't say that I blamed her. Dae worked really hard to keep his physique the way it was, and it got him a lot of private dances in the back room. Which meant plenty of blood for him to feed on. Of course, the women didn't remember this. They only remembered that he showed them a hell of a time, and came back for more.
"Hey, man," Elias said from behind the bar. "Whiskey?"
I gave him a nod. "Growing out the beard again, are ya?"
