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I continued to brood in silence as we ambled down Toulouse until a sudden harrowing sensation gripped my heart in a vise. I stopped, jerked my hand free and peered over Jude’s shoulder, realizing exactly where he was taking me.
“I’m not going in there.”
My voice had dipped very low, almost inaudible. My Vessel senses skyrocketed. A new layer of warmth sealed my whole body in a snap. I stiffened into an unmovable line in the middle of the street. Jude faced me, but my eyes remained on the entrance beyond.
“Genevieve, I won’t let anything harm you.”
I shook my head. “I’m not going in there.”
A primitive fear scaled my body, yelling, screaming for me to run. Run now. Run fast and far away. My eyes wouldn’t unlock from the doorway, over which was a sign in the shape of a battle-ax with emblazoned red letters readingThe Dungeon.
Mindy and I’d been partying with our friends in the Quarter many, many times. Every now and then, we’d straggle down Bourbon Street to sing karaoke at the Cat’s Meow, have a hurricane at Pat O’Brien’s, or dance to a tribute band at Krazy Korner. But, never, and I mean never, had we veered off our path to this place.
I’d always given it a wide berth, and now I knew why. Even before the universe knew what I was, a part of me already recognized this place as an epicenter of evil. My Vessel Sense radar had blown off the charts within ten yards of the door.
“I’m not going in there,” I repeated, knowing full well I sounded like a monotonous robot. I stood in the middle of the street, frozen, trembling.
Warm hands cupped my face, shocking me to gaze up at the owner. Jude blocked my view of the sign, forcing me to look only at him. His mask of metal melted into softer lines. His gaze held something I’d never seen before—a gentle, coaxing tenderness. I pulled back from the brink.
“Genevieve.” He used a sultry voice. I was listening. “I will not let anything harm you in this place. No one will even touch you. I promise. Do you understand?”
For a moment, I only stared, feeling the sensation of his warm palms against my cheekbones, mesmerized by the flecks of gold in his eyes. At the same time, he poured another layer of armor, of illusion, over my own. I could drown in this sense of serenity. I was safe with him.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” I finally muttered.
“Good girl.”
A small smile, then he took my hand and led me into the mouth of hell.
I glued myself to his back as we passed down a dark, narrow passageway into an open, empty courtyard. He let me move ahead, guiding me into the dimly lit bar with his palm at the small of my back, never removing his hands from my body. I guessed that he must only be able to cast illusion on someone else if he were physically touching them.
Immediately upon crossing the threshold from the courtyard, I felt a physical punch of fear slam into my soul as if my spirit might just up and vacate the premises with or without me. A large hand slipped under my hair, wrapping firmly but gently around the nape of my neck like he did before. I shivered, hoping Jude would assume it was from the dark decor of the club and not the effect his touch had on me.
Mindy’s favorite new club, Tartarus, was like glitter-Goth compared to this place. Painted skulls adorned posts and bar tops. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were real skulls. Wooden cages instead of booths sat in every room, where black-bedecked patrons did unseemly things to each other. Wait, whatwerethose two doing?
A woman with long black hair covering her face sat on a guy’s lap, her back to his chest, her hands on his spread knees, her skirt flared, covering where they were obviously slow fucking in public. The guy had his hands on her waist, guiding her up and down, but his gaze flicked to mine. He winked.
Heat shooting up my neck, I faced forward and blew out a shaky breath. As we rounded each corner, sinister demons stared from artwork adorning the walls. The most disturbing one was the horned devil in black and white, holding a goblet of red liquid in one hand and a still-beating heart in the other.
The patrons paid no attention to me but watched Jude with a fierce scowl. I’d already targeted two passersby as demons with red-glinting eyes, including the biker dude behind the bar. Most were simply humans who lived left of center.
An albino-pale guy with a shaved head passed us, dressed entirely in black from head to toe. He held something in one tattooed hand; a chain draped over his left shoulder. I followed the silver line connecting to a spiked choker wrapped around a petite brunette’s throat. Ghostlike with black lipstick, she wore a red corset and skintight leggings. She actually smiled at me as she passed.
My VS reached out, touching on the girl’s psyche for the briefest of seconds. At that moment, I knew the girl was not being kidnapped or oppressed in any way. Quite the contrary, she was filled with ecstasy in her current state as an enslaved creature.
Seriously?
I would never let a guy chain me like a dog and drag me around. Then I laughed inwardly at my absurdity as Jude guided me by the back of my neck up a narrow stairwell, leading me like a marionette.
My wandering reverie stilled as we mounted the stairwell. Bone-deep dread pounded into me. As we reached the second floor, a song blared at an ear-splitting level. I recognized “Burn” by In This Moment right away. Couples were sort of dancing, grinding in a slow, fluid motion—an odd paradox to the violent beauty of the song.
The vocalist, Maria Brink, didn’t exactly sing the lyrics, more like she said them in a singsong way. Words about suffering as a blessing, death as life, and burning right before your eyes. The air of this place scraped at my Vessel shell, trying to get in. I trembled but fixed my face like stone, locking my jaw. Jude stopped me, leaning close.
“Breathe, Genevieve.”
His lips brushed the top of my ear. I hadn’t realized it, but he was right. I’d actually stopped breathing.
