Firestorm: Heart of a Vampire #5 (5 page)

It inflamed her ire. She didn’t know how the overbearing brute had been raised, but her father taught her how a proper lady did, and absolutely did not, behave.

Not that she truly cared about such things anymore, though that niggle always tugged at her heart. It wasn’t as if her father, many hundreds of years dead, would hear about it and reprimand her like he used to.

But she was well known in some very high circles. She relied on those people for donations to some of her charities. A few old-mud sticklers would not take kindly to hearing about Lady Bienville shouting and making a public scene. Most blue-bloods and old money weren’t nearly as obnoxious as the few portrayed by tabloids and the media.

An image of one rich, pompous jerk she needed to entice to her cause, hearing about such a thing, came to mind and she nearly choked on the laughter. He’d have an apoplexy, and wouldn’t that be a sight?

Eric glanced around the parking lot, alert as any warrior of old. As if they’d be ambushed around the next corner.

A shiver worked up her spine and she realized he could be right.

Lately, one never knew.

The strange snow began to fall harder. Already a few inches piled over the ground. She shivered from a chilly gust of wind.

“How often do you get snow?” Eric asked, holding his hand out and letting the flakes dust his skin.

“It’s rare. And this long and heavy?” she shook her head.

He glanced at her sharply. “What are you thinking?”

Hesitating, she took a few steps toward her car, but he moved past her, his long legs quickly covering the ground, and blocked her path.

She stopped. “There’s been this feeling lately... I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Try.”

* * *

“Dark. Wrong. It’s nothing I can point to and say, there it is. Just a feeling, like I said,” Cat finally replied.

“Hmm.” He stared at her a moment longer. Yet another sign of damned magic? “Where’s your car?”

She pointed to a tiny vehicle, one of those hybrid electrical things.

“That?” he asked incredulously.

She lifted her chin. “I like it.”

He snorted, amazed anyone could fit in such a little thing.

Someone driving a much bigger car on the street slammed on their brakes. The back end fishtailed across multiple lanes.

Eric scowled harder at her compact car. “You’ll come with me. That thing isn’t safe to drive in this weather.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue. The bang of a crash and crumpling metal rang out as the fishtailing car rammed into another vehicle. She closed her mouth and nodded once.

At his SUV, he opened the passenger door for her to slide inside. As she passed him, she smiled softly. “So you
can
be a gentleman.”

When she was inside, he slammed the door with more force than necessary, making the SUV rock a little. She just continued to smile.

What was with her?

He was a Viking warrior, descended from kings. Yet this slip of a woman laughed in the face of his anger.

Cat gave him directions and, twenty minutes later, they reached an older apartment building. Shriveled bushes didn’t hide the deteriorated rose-colored stone walls. Cat headed up a rickety set of stairs to the second floor, then to a red painted door.

“Be courteous. We are in her home,” she said as she knocked.

The door swung open as if the kid on the other side had been waiting for them. About eighteen, tall and muscular, with shaggy black hair, he looked them up and down before nodding. He stepped back, his billowing sky-blue pants swishing as he moved. “She’s in back.”

“Thank you, Jeremiah,” Cat said, striding inside.

Eric studied the kid. He wasn’t a vampire, but neither was he mortal. Eric didn’t even think he was human. The form he wore was a mask, an ingenious one. Who would suspect a kid of anything?

The boy simply watched him, his eyes enigmatic, face unemotional but for a flickering light in the depths of his eyes.

He spun, heading down a shadowed, narrow hallway to a bedroom.

Eric followed Cat inside the room, then stopped short.

A woman, Malia, he presumed, sat at a large, cherry-wood dressing table complete with a mirror stretching to the ceiling. She currently wore nothing but a sequined bra and matching panties, the same blue as the young man’s pants. Over her dusky skin, darker navy hues were painted in lines along her arms and legs. Strange patterns swirled around her eyes, and down her nose and cheeks.

“Good, you’re not late.” Her voice was as exotic as her looks, filled with a smoky essence. She finished applying some eye makeup, then grabbed her long black hair and began braiding it with a strip of white silk.

“Masque?” Cat asked, taking a seat on the bed.

Uncomfortable, and unsure where exactly it was safe to look, Eric leaned against the wall near the door, crossing his arms and staring at Cat.

“You know it, darlin’. Another night, another party. ’Tis New Orleans.”

The women chatted for a few minutes, polite pleasantries that set his teeth on edge.

“So, who’s the muscle?” Malia asked, appraising him.

“Out-of-towner.”

“You bring him in?”

“I did.”

Malia tsked. “Not good.”

“What do you know?” Cat asked.

“This and that,” Malia replied with a grin. “There’s a rumor going round a certain vampire is missing.”

“He is.”

“Shit. That ain’t right.” Malia jumped up, pacing between the bed and the mirrored table.

Eric straightened, ready to demand answers. He didn’t have time to sit around here while Cat caught up with old friends.

As if reading his mind, Cat sent him a glance and shook her head.

Malia caught the movement and stared his way. “Himself not used to the way things work down here?”

Cat replied, “He’s not.”

“Pretty to look at though. Suppose that makes up for some shortcomings.” Malia shot him a sensual smile, but he felt only mild discomfort at her blatant appraisal.

A pink tinge brightened Cat’s cheeks. “So, what have you heard?”

“Missing. Murdered. Not just vamps, either.” Malia shivered.

Jeremiah strode into the room, his enigmatic, inhuman gaze sweeping over everything. As if sensing Malia’s distress, he wrapped his arms around her, rubbing her arms and resting his chin on the top of her head.

She said, “Guess I’ll be giving this information now. I’ll take payment later.”

“Fine,” Cat replied without hesitation, as if what the woman had just agreed to was of no consequence. She was far too trusting for her own good.

He wanted to call back her dangerous word.

Malia glanced at him, her smile widening as if sensing his discomfort. The air lay still, heavy. Finally, she refocused on Cat. “Somethin’ dark be movin’ round.”

“Yeah. I’ve felt it,” Cat replied.

“Somethin’ big. Bigger than I’ve ever seen, perhaps.”

Chapter Five

E
ric straightened as an itch crawled down his spine. The room filled with silent tension for a long moment.

“Do you know who... or what it is?” Cat asked.

Malia shook her head, her long braid swinging. “Nah. But methinks it might be time for a vacation.” Her dark eyes shimmered with unnatural, silvery light. “You best be leaving too.”

“You know I can’t. There are too many here that need my protection. The guards haven’t gotten everyone out of the city and to safety yet.”

Malia smiled, but instead of humor, it was... predatory. “Then best you be coming with me tonight. There’s supposed to be a man at the Masque who’s helping people on their way out of town. Only, a couple of vamps he’s ‘helped’ have been the ones turning up murdered.”

Cat stiffened. “When and where is the party?”

“’Tis ‘underground’, so few know of it. Jeremiah will draw you a map.” She reached up and pulled the man’s head down, kissing him hard.

After a long moment, Eric worried they’d been forgotten

Finally, Jeremiah straightened. “Follow me.” He strode down the hall.

Eric headed after him. A moment later, Cat joined them in the living room, her cheeks a bright pink.

“What did she say to you?” he asked.

She mumbled something, shaking her head. When Jeremiah held out the map, Cat snatched it before Eric could.

“This time, we’ll be going together,” she said sweetly, but with a hint of steel. “I suggest you find a costume shop and rent something, if you want to fit in. Then meet me at my house in an hour. We can head out from there.”

Without giving him a chance to argue, she swept out of the apartment, map firmly in hand.

Eric turned to leave, but the jingling of bells caught his attention as Malia entered the room. She appraised him once more, tapping a finger against her chin. “Methinks you had better take care of her, Warrior.”

“I don’t shirk my duty,” he replied.

Her eyes lit, as if she was silently laughing at him. “Nuh. Duty? If that’s what you think...” Her laughter trailed off as she headed back to her bedroom, leaving him wondering what exactly her last quip had been about.

As he strode along the street to find a costume shop, he was accompanied by the whispered threats and echoing laughter of his past.

“Warrior, she called you.” The sorceress’s voice filled his head. “A warrior afraid of his own shadow.”

He ignored her the best he could, but as imagined flames flickered along his scars, merely walking became difficult.

And he wondered how exactly he planned to keep Cat safe at this party, when he couldn’t even get away from himself.

* * *

Cat finished the last touches to her makeup, then headed downstairs. She’d heard Eric arrive a while ago. As she reached the foyer, she caught sight of him pacing impatiently.

She laughed, the sound filling the entryway, at his costume.

With the black, high-collared cape over a dark suit, and the inky dye covering his hair, he could pass for a Bela Lugosi impersonator.

He spun, glancing at her, then did a double-take.

“Great minds and all that?” She twirled, letting her own cape flutter around her bare legs. Her short, strapless black dress would have never been proper in an old black and white movie, but she figured she still passed as a vampire.

His permanently stern expression cracked as he nearly grinned, then catching himself, he scowled once more.

“Don’t worry. I’m certain no one will think we’re together,” she told him sarcastically.

“In any case, it’s too late for me to buy another costume.”

His angered reply set her teeth on edge, but she continued to smile. “If you’re ready?”

He nodded and held out his hand.

“What?”

“The directions?”

“Oh, we’ll get there. Now, who’s driving?”

He didn’t reply, merely headed outside and to his SUV, then held the passenger door open.

Twenty minutes and an awkwardly silent drive later, Cat was wishing she’d slipped out without him.

He radiated tension. It was all too clear he had no desire to be there, or to help her. She couldn’t understand why he’d even come.

Duty, he’d called it.

Archaic. If that really was his reason, he was more of a throwback to pre-history than she’d thought.

They pulled up in front of a well-lit mansion. Even from outside, she could hear the beat of the music. A valet stepped up to Eric’s door, swinging it open with a smile.

From the way the man’s face paled, she figured Eric was using his “
Don’t mess with my stuff
” glare. The valet hurriedly pointed to where they could park.

Tired of his attitude, she jumped out of the car before he could pull forward. “I’ll be inside,” she said, slamming the door and hurrying up the stairs.

He yelled, “Woman!”

Without turning, she waved before entering the house.

The place was packed. From the magic radiating in the air, most, if not all, were Arcaine of one kind or another.

A waitress, wearing only a few thin golden threads to cover her assets, walked by, holding a tray with drinks a multitude of sizes and colors. The costume told Cat exactly who was the host. Dragons certainly loved their gold, and their nudity.

Cat snagged a glass of red-colored liquid, then sniffed it before taking a drink of the spiced blood. A sharp tang on the back of her tongue told her it was spiced with a bit more than the usual herbs.

She shrugged. Her metabolism made it impossible to get high or drunk, but she’d still be cautious. With dragons, one never could be certain. As she moved through the crowd, searching for Malia, she nodded to those she knew. The array of costumes was immense. Half the people were so covered they were unrecognizable.