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“Ladies and gentlemen, we are approaching Louis Armstrong International Airport. Please fasten your seatbelts and prepare for landing. The time is five-forty-five, and it’s a balmy eighty-four degrees.”
“Home, sweet, home,” Luna says as the plane begins to descend. “Where there’s always 100 percent humidity.”
Minutes later, the plane is taxiing down the runway and stops in front of a second black SUV. Sticking my head out the door of the plane, I see a strikingly beautiful woman leaning against the driver’s side door. Her hair reminds me of fire, and I can sense her otherworldliness instantly. Not only do I feel vampire energy, it’s mixed with what I now recognize as lycan energy. Strapped to her chest is a small toddler with the same hair as his mother.
Topher passes me, hurrying down the stairs to greet the woman. They embrace with an almost embarrassing kiss. Luna moves next to me. “That’s Amelia and little Edon.”
“What is she?”
Luna laughs. “That’s up for debate.”
The rest of us deboard the plane and follow Topher’s footsteps to the SUV.
“Hi, folks,” the woman greets us. “I’m Amelia.”
We introduce ourselves, each taking a turn to shake her hand, ending with Luna who gives her a big hug.
“I’m afraid I have some interesting news about your Kragen,” she says, bouncing baby Edon. “He’s definitely in the swamps, and he’s not alone.”
“What do you mean?” Thorne asks.
“I mean, he’s amassed a small army,” she answers.
“You mean he has a new crew,” I fill in the blanks.
TWENTY-FIVE
the big easy
Over the years,I’ve visited New Orleans several times. But until coming here with the Alpha of New Orleans and his wife, I’ve never experienced the city for what it truly is—a haven for the paranormal.
Walking the streets of the French Quarter is an overwhelming cacophony of smells, sights, and sounds.
“Are you okay over there?” Thorne asks as we pass a large group of tourists. Most of them are drunk and stumbling through the streets.
“It’s ten o’clock in the morning. Why the hell are the humans already altered?”
He laughs. “Isn’t there a song about it being five o’clock somewhere?”
“Yeah, but that’s for the beach, not the downtown area of a major metropolis.”
“Welcome to New Orleans,” Amelia, our tour guidefor the day, says with a laugh. “You never know what you’re going to see.”
“Or smell,” I add.
“Or smell,” she confirms. “That was the hardest part of becoming a vampire…all the smells. I mean I always had a good nose, but when those vampire senses kicked in, ugh.”
Amelia’s energy is calming, and she’s fun to be around. The fact that she’s pushing a stroller down Bourbon Street makes me like her even more. There’s no doubt that the baby she’s pushing is hers, but how did a vampire have a child? I haven’t gained enough courage to ask, and honestly, it’s none of my business.
“We’re here,” she says, opening an inconspicuous door next to an empty building.
“Where is here?” Thorne asks, moving in front of me and opening the door wide enough for the stroller to enter.
“This is a speakeasy. It’s owned by Erick, one of the older vampires in the city.” She pushes the stroller inside with us in tow.
“Is it smart to bring a baby in here?” Thorne asks.
Amelia laughs. “We have much to talk about, my friends.”
