chapter Eleven
THERE’S SOMETHING ABOUT BETTY
KATIE wasn’t totally kidding. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know anything else. It already seemed pretty apparent that Cort had been the one to bite her. And they legitimately seemed to be married, too. Okay, not by the Lurch of a minister back there, but by someone. Probably the priest in the bathtub. Which somehow seemed apropos.
And they had found out what happened to Saxon’s forehead.
She glanced at the cookie jar cradled in Cort’s arm. And now they had an Elvis cookie jar. That was probably enough for tonight.
But she didn’t say that. Instead, heaven help her, she did exactly what she’d just told herself she didn’t want to do. She asked another question.
“Do you think the blood on me was mine? Or someone else’s?”
Cort shook his head. “Honestly, I have no idea.”
Katie wasn’t sure which option disturbed her more. But it did explain why she was now wearing a T-shirt and jeans. They’d gotten her a change of clothing at some point, obviously.
They walked a bit, silent. Katie considered asking where they were going, but instead addressed the other issue at the forefront of her mind.
“Do you think the reverend knew?”
“Knew what?”
“That we’re vampires,” Katie said.
Cort was quiet for a moment. “I had the same thought, but I guess it doesn’t matter. He didn’t seem like he was going to do anything about it.”
They were silent again, heading down Burgundy back toward the center of the Quarter.
Katie supposed he was right. But it did make her wonder, if the reverend suspected something about them being vampires, couldn’t others, too?
“What if he isn’t the only one who knows?” she asked. “Couldn’t that be dangerous?”
Cort glanced at her, then shrugged, the parrot ruffling its feathers at the movement. “Maybe, but again, I don’t think we should worry unless we find out something concrete. We have enough to worry about tonight, don’t you think?”
Katie suspected he was just playing down his own concern, but she nodded anyway. She’d found the reverend very unnerving, and she found the idea of other humans knowing their secret worrisome, too. What if they saw them as monsters? Cort himself said that some vampires did survive by sucking human blood. What if a human who knew about them was behind what happened last night?
“Listen,” Cort said, obviously noticing her worry. “I really don’t think we have anything to worry about. I mean, if the reverend had wanted to do something to us, he’d had a perfect opportunity last night. We were totally out of it.”
Katie nodded, but decided to share her thoughts anyway. “But didn’t you say that it’s very strange for a vampire to black out, especially from drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“So what if someone did something to you all intentionally.”
Cort stopped and turned to Katie. The bird ruffled again.
“Like drugged us or something?”
“I don’t know. It’s just a thought.”
Cort didn’t speak, but he didn’t start walking again either.
“It is strange that everyone in the band blacked out,” he finally said.
She nodded.
“But you blacked out, too.”
“Maybe I was just collateral damage. Maybe I wasn’t meant to get whatever you got.”
“That is an interesting thought,” he admitted, realizing Katie might have a valid point. It was strange they all blacked out. At Johnny’s wake. And Johnny’s actual death was the strangest part of all. “We all found Johnny’s sudden suicide damned odd. He wasn’t upset or depressed or acting unusual in any way. At least not that I saw.”
“I realize I didn’t know him that well, but I was surprised, too. Johnny always struck me as the type of guy who didn’t sweat the small stuff.”
He didn’t. Johnny loved being a vampire. He loved being a drummer. He loved living in New Orleans and living the constant party. His suicide definitely didn’t make sense, so the more Cort thought about it, the more Katie’s idea that someone wanted to hurt them made sense.
But who?
“I know we didn’t need another potential mystery.” Katie offered him a weak smile.
No, they didn’t. Although in his mind, he sort of felt like they basically knew the truth about their personal mysteries. Whether they liked it or not.
And he felt oddly accepting of both. He’d bitten Katie and married her. Two things he’d vowed never to do again. And he’d broken his promises to himself with a woman he didn’t know all that well. But even looking at her now, he felt like he knew her.
Like he was supposed to be with her.
But he returned his attention to this theory of hers. It really might have merit, but where did they start to find out about this new mystery?
“Maybe we should just head back to my place and see if we can talk to the priest. Maybe he can at least give us a little more info about what happened.”
Katie deserved to know why she was a vampire. He did think it was at his hands—or rather fangs, but why? And did they simply marry because he drunkenly felt obligated to take care of the new vampire he’d created?
He looked at Katie. She worried her lower lip again, although stopped when she noticed his gaze falling to her lips.
Yes, he would have married her for that reason. He would, even coherent and sober, he realized. He needed to protect and care for her. He didn’t know why, but he did know that. Period.
“Yes, I guess talking to the priest would be the next best step.” She sounded less than excited about that idea.
Of course, the fact that he’d felt marrying her was the right thing to do didn’t mean she felt the same way. In fact, the dread in her voice was an indication she didn’t feel even remotely the same way. And why would she? Again, he suspected none of this had been her choice.
Still, he felt a little hurt by her obvious reluctance to talk to the priest. But there was no way in hell he was going to show her that. He’d just stay focused on finding out the facts and then handling the annulment or whatever they needed to do to set her free. She’d probably already been made a vampire against her will. He wasn’t going to try to push marriage on her because of his own sense of responsibility.
“Well, let’s go,” Cort said, keeping his tone impassive, businesslike. “Hopefully the priest is still there, and we can wake him and find out what he knows.”
“Do you really think he married us?” she asked.
“It seems like the most likely conclusion,” he said, deciding he wasn’t going to sugarcoat it. She probably wanted to be reassured that maybe they weren’t married, but like it or not, he suspected the passed-out priest, or whatever denomination he was, had done the deed and they were hitched.
She nodded.
“So let’s head there, and maybe we can find out how to get this situation rectified.”
She nodded again and started down Burgundy in the direction of his apartment. Neither spoke the several blocks before they reached Toulouse, the street he lived on. But just as they were about to turn the corner, someone called out to them.
“Yoo-hoo, newlyweds! Cort and Katie!”
They both turned to see an older couple waving to them from the other side of the street.
“Do you have any idea who they are?” Cort murmured out of the corner of his mouth.
“Not a clue,” Katie said even as she waved at them. The older couple beamed back, waited for a car to pass, then dashed across the street.
“How are our favorite newlyweds tonight?” the woman asked, giving both of them a brief hug, which neither Cort nor Katie returned with the same enthusiasm.
The man grinned, then hugged Katie, too. He offered Cort his hand, much to Cort’s relief.
“I can’t believe you two are headed back to Bourbon,” the woman said. “I figured you would both need at least a day or two to recuperate. Ah, to be young again. Isn’t that right, Ed?”
Ed nodded.
Cort got the feeling that’s what Ed did. Agree.
“Well, we are a little . . .” Cort didn’t know what to call it exactly.
“Hungover,” Katie said, clearly deciding to go with the truth.
“You know what they say,” the woman said and patted Katie’s arm, “hair of the dog. Hair of that dog.”
“We’ve tried,” Katie told her.
“Well, come with us,” the woman said, hooking her arm through Katie’s. “We’re headed to Johnny White’s.”
Katie looked down as if she were being held by a tentacle rather than an older woman’s arm clad in a crocheted sweater.
“We were actually headed—to my—headed home,” Cort corrected himself. After all, they did think they were happy newlyweds. It might seem odd if he referred to his apartment. Then again, he couldn’t exactly say why it mattered what total strangers thought of their living situation.
“Oh, just a quick drink with your matron of honor,” the woman insisted.
“Matron. Of. Honor?” Katie said, not keeping the shock off of her face.
Betty’s eyes widened. “Don’t tell me you forgot. We had such a good time.”
“No—I—I didn’t forget. The night is just a little bit of a blur.”
Betty smiled, seemingly pleased with that answer. Cort supposed being sort of forgotten was better than totally forgotten.
“So now you see, you have to come have a drink with us,” Betty stated. “Ed, tell them to join us.”
Again, obedient Ed did as he was told. “Yes, join us.”
Cort wondered if obedient Ed had been his best man.
“Just one drink,” Betty said, tugging Katie’s arm.
Katie grimaced, clearly wanting to rip her arm out of the woman’s grasp, but she was too polite. Cort definitely knew that about his wife. She was always so kind and sweet.
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke,” the parrot suddenly decided to pipe up. The damned drunk.
Both Betty and Ed laughed. “See, even your bird needs a little hair of the dog. Plus, I want to show you all the pictures I took at your party. I couldn’t take any of the wedding, of course, because I was in it, and you know Ed, useless with technology.”
Of course, Cort thought. Silly Ed.
Still, there were pictures of the wedding party? Cort looked at Katie, her expression stating that she’d rather be anywhere else right now, but when their eyes met, she nodded.
She wanted to look at the pictures, too.
What couple didn’t want to look at photos of their forgotten wedding? Or, in this case, wedding party.
Katie smiled at the woman. “I guess one drink would be fine.”
The couple looked tickled. Okay, Betty looked tickled. Ed looked relieved that his wife was getting her way. And Katie still smiled. Only Cort would know that smile wasn’t her real one. Her real smile lit up her whole face and made her deep blue eyes shimmer with true joy. That smile was beautiful enough to fill him with awe.
His body reacted just thinking about it. Kind of sad, given he knew she was feeling anything but joyous at the moment.
Betty continued to hold Katie’s arm as they started down Toulouse toward Bourbon.
“Elvis fan, huh?”
Cort started, surprised that Ed had spoken before being told to do so. Ed pointed to the cookie jar.
“Oh yeah, but this belongs to a friend of ours.”
Ed nodded as if it was perfectly reasonable that Cort was wandering around Bourbon Street carrying a cookie jar. An Elvis cookie jar at that.
Cort supposed there was something to be said for Ed’s long-suffering ways. He just didn’t question.
Maybe that’s what they all should be doing.
But when he looked at Katie, listening to Betty’s story with that fake smile plastered to her face, he knew he had to ask questions and get the answers. For her, at least.
Johnny White’s was several blocks back in the direction they’d come from, and if Cort had been thinking clearly and not fixating on Katie and her lackluster feelings toward their marriage, he’d have suggested they go back to Burgundy, then cut back down to Bourbon.
It was longer to go that way, but it wasn’t as if ole Ed was going to question his reasoning. And Betty was too busy chattering Katie’s ear off to notice anyway. And that would have kept them off Bourbon for a majority of the walk.
He studied Katie. She was doing a good job holding it together, but he could see that Bourbon Street was overwhelming her. Crowds and lights and noise were extreme sensory overload for a new vampire. It was like bringing a newborn to a rock concert. Not pleasant and not well-tolerated.
At his age, he barely registered the glaring lights, blaring music, and masses of revelers. But for Katie, the whole experience had to be downright torture. He’d seen that even Lafitte’s had been difficult, and this was like Lafitte’s times a thousand.
Betty still had her arm looped through Katie’s and she continued to babble away, but Cort could see his wife wasn’t truly paying attention.
She couldn’t. Too many other stimuli bombarded her. And he could tell by the way her blue eyes darted from one thing to another, not really focusing, and the deathly paleness of her skin, she wanted to bolt. To just escape.
“Betty,” he said, stepping up on the other side of Katie, “I hate to be so greedy, but I’m already missing my bride. Do you mind if I steal her away?”
Betty instantly released Katie’s arm, grinning. “Of course not.”
Cort shifted the cookie jar to the same side as the parrot. Katie didn’t need that damned thing squawking, or pecking at her. Or singing. Man, he was so sick of the singing already.
He reached for Katie, tucking her against his side with his free arm. Again she surprised him with her willingness to lean against him. He knew she had to resent him. After all, she was feeling this way thanks to him.
Betty moved over to take Ed’s hand, apparently moved by new romance.
Cort leaned his head toward Katie’s, his mouth near her ear. “You’re okay,” he murmured softly. Soothingly. “Just focus on my voice.”
She nodded, not speaking, and he suspected she couldn’t. It was all too much.
“Just listen to me, focus on me.” He rubbed a hand up and down her arm, in slow, reassuring strokes. “Listen to the sound of my voice and my touch.”
* * *
KATIE WANTED TO groan with relief, which was still all she could do even though the sights and sounds of Bourbon Street no longer assaulted her. And assault was the absolute right word. She’d felt like the sounds of loud music, shouting people, and raucous laughter were attacking her ears. Her eyes ached and watered from the harsh flashing lights and the smells . . . In some ways, that one was the hardest for her to deal with. The foul scents of sweat and stale liquor. The rancid scent of old vomit and urine. And the harsh chemical overlay of the bleach they used every morning to wash down the street. But the smell that battered her, distracted her, filled her with a raging desire she had to use every bit of her willpower to control. She didn’t even fully understand what the sweet, luring scent called her to do, she just knew with every fiber of her being she wanted to do it. And it scared her. But then Cort pulled her to his side, his arm strong, reassuring, and suddenly she felt better. Not perfect. Not normal. But she wouldn’t have believed anything could have distracted her from the wild party that surrounded them. She was wrong.
Cort’s nearness, his scent, the friction of his hand on her arm and strength of his body close beside her, all of him, seemed to center her and shield her from everything else.
Oh, she was still filled with longing. But the kind of longing she understood. His hand moved on her arm, skin stroking over skin and she ached to be in his arms, without the barrier of clothing, his body rubbing completely against hers. Another part of him deep inside her.
She wasn’t sure if she could blush. But she suspected she could, because her cheeks burned. Of course the rest of her burned, too.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice husky and rich. “Just focus on me.”
As if she could do anything else.
“We’re almost there,” he said, his breath brushing against her cheek and ruffling her hair.
She shivered.
“I know this is hard,” he said, misunderstanding her shudder. “But it will get easier.”
No, this feeling would never get easier, or less intense. Her attraction to Cort had a life of its own. Oh, sure, he didn’t see that, but she did. She always had. A part of her wanted to simply turn her head and kiss him. His lips were right there. She could do it. Before he even realized what she intended.
But she didn’t. Apparently being a vampire hadn’t made her any braver, any more audacious. Damn it.
“Just a little farther.”
Yes, just a little farther to his lips. She should kiss him, right? After all, they were newlyweds. Betty and Ed expected it.
She debated making her move. Just a quick turn of her head. That would most certainly block out anything else, but before she could muster the courage, Cort steered her up a couple of cracked and chipped concrete steps and into Johnny White’s.
The sudden quiet startled Katie. The small, alleylike bar was open to Bourbon and contained several patrons, but it seemed like a warm cocoon compared to the craziness outside.
Still, she didn’t move away. She couldn’t. He felt too good. Like an anchor keeping her safe from being set adrift. A hunky, great-smelling anchor with an amazing body, killer smile, and those sexy, sleepy eyes.
Okay, maybe she was still losing it.
He led her to a barstool at the end of the bar, obviously trying to put as much space between her and the chaos outside. If he only knew what he was doing to her insides right now.
“Situations like this will get easier for you,” he said.
Why’d he keep saying that? He was so wrong.
“You’ll learn to block the lights and sounds and smells,” he assured her.
Lights, sounds, smells. Right. That’s what he was talking about.
Pull yourself together, girl.
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke.”
“Well, your bird certainly knows what it wants,” Betty said, sliding onto the stool beside Katie. “He was making the same demands last night.”
“Damn, this bird went everywhere with us. He probably knows exactly what we did last night,” Cort murmured in Katie’s ear.
“Can’t you mind-meld with it or something?”
“Yeah, no. Not one of our abilities.” He grinned, and more desire shot through her, electrical, powerful.
“Your bird was the life of the party.” Betty laughed.
Katie glanced at the parrot, which bobbed its head as if to say, “Oh yeah. Oh yeah.”
“That bird is so freaking eerie,” she whispered to Cort, who nodded.
The bartender, an older woman with obviously dyed black hair, weary eyes, and a stern set to her jaw approached. Katie wasn’t sure, but she suspected Cort was just as prepared as she was for the woman to tell them they had to go or owed money or did something so embarrassing it was better off forgotten.
But instead she simply asked in a tired voice, “What can I get you all?”
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke,” the bird demanded, as always. Katie could have sworn his words were a little slurred. Of course, the bird was the only one who’d managed to get a drink so far.
Maybe their luck was changing.
Although as soon as the bartender left with all their orders, Cort murmured, “Let’s see if we actually get to drink these,” voicing Katie’s own thoughts exactly.
“Don’t jinx it.”
Cort smiled again and her breath caught. God, he was so gorgeous.
“Let me show you the pictures,” Betty said, managing to draw both of their attentions to her. She dug around in her purse, pulling out a small digital camera.
She turned it on, then began pushing a button in rapid succession.
“Now where are they?” the older woman said more to herself than them.
“Do we even show up in pictures?” Katie whispered to Cort, who chuckled.
“Yeah, that one is a myth, too. Vampires are too damned vain to not have reflections or show up in photos. After all, who doesn’t want to admire their eternal youth?”
“Boy, we sure took a lot of pictures of the swamp tour today, didn’t we, Ed?” Betty still pressed the little button, peering at the small screen on the back of the camera.
Ed nodded, although Katie already knew he hadn’t taken a single picture today, nor, she suspected, had he paid any attention to how many his wife took either.
“Eureka,” Betty cried as if she’d just discovered gold rather than photos of last night’s drunken revelry. “Here they are.”
She held the camera out to Katie. “Just press this button here to see the next one.”
Katie accepted the camera and squinted down at the small screen, trying to make out what she was looking at. A picture of Cort and Drake mugging for the camera. Definitely a drunken picture, but not very revealing.
Cort leaned closer, and again Katie was distracted by his nearness and scent. Her body stirred, hungry, alive. Her fangs reacted, too, lengthening just a little, but the sensation startled her and they retracted.
“That one doesn’t tell very much,” Cort said, yet again voicing her thoughts. Eerie.
She gathered herself. “No, it doesn’t.”
She pressed the button. This one showed Wyatt, Cort, Saxon and . . .
“Is that Raven?” Cort said, disgust clear in his voice.
“Yes.”
“Oh, that was your best man’s name,” Betty said. “I’d forgotten.”
“Raven was my best man?” Cort said, now stunned as well as disgusted.
“Yes. Such a nice young man.”
Katie looked at Cort and shrugged. She was pretty sure no one had ever described Raven that way before, but last night had apparently been an alternate universe. So he probably was nice last night.
In the photo, all of them were grinning widely, arms around each other. And from the background Katie could tell they were at the Old Opera House, the bar where both Katie and Cort worked. In the background, Jacob the bartender, was giving Cort and Raven bunny ears. It was a pretty classic picture actually.
She pressed the button again. This time it was a picture of her and Cort. Cort held her in his arms, and she gazed up at him with utter adoration.
And he . . . he gazed at her with the same tender expression.
“I love that one,” Betty said, and both Katie and Cort started. Katie brushed her hair away from her face, the action nervous, and a little self-conscious. Cort fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.
“You can just see how in love you two are.” Betty sighed.
“Yes,” Katie managed after a moment, her voice an odd croak as if her throat was swollen. She stared at the picture a moment longer, not daring to look at Cort, although she could tell out of the corner of her eye, he stared at it, too.
She pressed the button.
“Actually I was wrong,” Betty said, leaning in on the other side of Katie. “That one is my favorite.”
This time the picture actually sent chills through Katie. She looked at herself, held in Cort’s strong arms, kissing. And not just a peck, but a deep, passionate kiss. His hands on her back and tangled in her hair. Her hands held his face. Anyone looking at this would see a couple sharing an intimate moment, a truly romantic kiss.
Katie stared at those people, unable to correlate that she was looking at herself and Cort. They might look like them, but those people had to be someone else.
And in truth, she felt jealous of them. She wanted that for herself. She wanted those feelings. She wanted that connection. That touch.
She couldn’t look at him, and the total truth was, she wanted them with Cort.
“I was just telling Ed today that I can tell a couple who will last. And you two, well, I can just tell you two are going to last an eternity,” Betty said, although her voice sounded far away like Katie was hearing it in a dream.
Katie continued to stare at that couple kissing. She and Cort kissing. She’d wanted to kiss him from the moment she’d met him. And apparently she had, but she didn’t remember. Nothing.
“Here you go,” the bartender said, placing glasses in front of both Katie and Cort.
At the same time, they reached for the tall glasses, and in unison, they both downed half of it.