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Street musicians add their melodies to the symphony of the night, creating a harmony that continues to build with every passing block.
Even the shadows here seem to pulse to the seductive melodies echoing from the heart of the city square.
I used to love the vibrancy of New Orleans—the crowds of people, the infectious energy, the ease of grabbing a human off the street for a quick snack. Now it only serves to annoy me.
All the tourists cluttering up the streets.
All the boisterous drunks acting like idiots.
One of those idiotic drunks stumbles his way into me, reeking of alcohol and cigarettes.
“Oops. M’bad.” The human reaches out to steady me though he is the one who nearly falls on his uncoordinated ass. “Careful where you’re walkin’, bro.”
My nose wrinkles when his stale whiskey breath wafts in my face.
I pull my lips back, baring my fangs, and hiss.
He startles backward, trips over himself, and lands on his ass at the entrance to a French breakfast spot. His fear permeates the air and I revel in it. Leaning down to ensure he gets a good look at my red eyes, I give him a second up-close-and-personal view of my fangs. “Careful who you shove into on these streets. Bro.”
“Jesus H. Christ!” He scrambles back, but I’ve already lost interest. The stench of urine soaking through his jeans has ruined the mood.
I leave the human to his yelling and get back to my night.
Rune snickers as he walks at my side. “He’s going to spout off to everyone about the demon that attacked him in NOLA.”
“No one will believe some inebriated nobody yammering about vampires and demons.”
Manon’s ghostly figure solidifies in front of me, a smirk on her red lips. “It wasn’t very good-natured of you, darling. I thought you wanted to be a better man now that you have your little witch to play with?”
I wave her away and let the music lead the way to my destination like a siren’s call.
Josephine is far from my little witch. Finn and Rune have staked their claims and made their intentions clear, but other than that one moment when she barged into my suite, we’ve never shared a civil word.
Although…she swore she’d work on breaking the curse. That gives me the first glimmer of hope I’ve had in decades. Since Celine cast it, maybe Josephine can undo it.
The tune swells and draws me along in its wake. Manon follows, and I do my best to pretend she’s not there. I have to play it cool because Rune is watching me out of the side of his eye.
“You good, Bas?”
“Never better.”
My denial works—for a block, maybe two.
It’s difficult to keep my sire at bay when she’s being insistent, and she’s been more and more insistent as time passes. By the time we reach Sloane’s lounge, my sire’s voice is all I hear, a constant buzzing in my head.
“Why are you denying your nature, Sebastian? The male I made would’ve torn that human’s throat out and swallowed his blood down in heaving gulps.”
He was pickled. I like to drink my whiskey first-hand, thanks.
“If you stop restraining yourself, you might snap out of this funk you’re in.”
“Fuck off,” I growl.
“What the fuck did I do?” Rune gives me a sideways glare.
“Nothing. Forget it.” I slow my stride and let him get a few yards ahead of me.
Manon flashes me a pout. “Why do you pander to others, darling? You’re the king, for goddess’ sake.”
