chapter Twelve
867-5309
(Who Can I Turn To?)
BESIDE him, Katie pulled in a deep breath while Cort took another long swallow of his drink, nearly polishing it off.
Clearly they were both shaken.
Her finger stayed on the button, as she clearly debated if she wanted to see more. Cort understood. Looking at these pictures was hard. It was hard to believe these things happened without them even knowing it.
But to her credit, she did press the button again. A picture of Betty and Ed with them lit up on the small screen. There was also one of Cort and Raven giving each other bunny ears. Now that was total weirdness. A picture of Drake and Wyatt doing shots. That was normal. Another of Saxon doing the hang-loose sign to the camera. Equally normal—if anyone could describe Saxon as normal. One of Katie sitting on Cort’s lap, both of them laughing, but he could still see that expression on both their faces. It had been there in all the pictures of just the two of them.
Love. They really did look in love. Totally and genuinely in love.
Katie’s hand shook as she lifted her glass to her lips, nearly finishing off her drink.
She pressed the button again to see a photo of a man who seemed to be covered in a layer of dirt and sweat, his filthy gray shirt that might very well have been white at one point clung to his tall, skinny frame. His equally dirty shorts threatened to slip off his narrow hips as his pose revealed he was dancing madly.
“Oh, that’s some vagrant who came in to dance while we were listening to a band at Cajun Cabin right before we met up with you,” Betty said with a chuckle, taking the camera. “That guy could really dance. Couldn’t he, Ed?”
Ed nodded.
“What time was that?” Cort asked.
Betty pursed her lips in thought. “Oh let’s see. That must have been around eleven or so, because your wedding happened around midnight. Isn’t that right, Ed?”
Ed nodded.
Cort knew Ed wasn’t exactly a bastion of accuracy, given that he’d agree to anything his wife said, but if Betty was right, they must have been off the riverboat fairly quickly after they all blacked out. Cort knew that Stella had reserved the riverboat until 2 A.M. Why hadn’t they stayed on the boat and partied? Had something happened? Was Katie crossed over on the boat or afterward? Or had they married before the actual bite?
More mysteries. Damn.
“I guess that’s all I have, although I could have sworn I took more,” Betty said as she took the camera back. The older woman began browsing through the pictures, talking to Ed about this one and that.
Katie signaled to the bartender for another drink. Cort could see her hand still trembled.
“Are you okay?” he asked even though he knew the answer.
She nodded, then she shook her head. “Is it possible to feel embarrassed, ashamed, disappointed—and excited all at once?”
The bartender arrived, giving him a moment to think about her question. A question he didn’t really like. Or rather he didn’t like the implications of it. He could understand embarrassed. He was, too. And excited—well, he was assuming she was referring to having another clue about what happened last night. But ashamed and disappointed. Wow, now that didn’t sound good at all.
Real or sham marriage, no man wanted a woman to be ashamed and disappointed about it. Okay, maybe he couldn’t speak for all men in this position—if any other man had ever been in this position—all he knew was he wasn’t pleased with her feeling these things about their nuptials.
He certainly hated the fact that he’d looked at those photos and felt excitement, too. Excitement at seeing himself touching her. Kissing her. Doing all the things he’d imagined doing to her.
And he had—and he couldn’t remember a bit of it. Oh, cruel irony.
The bartender returned, and again Katie downed her drink. Another sure sign she was very agitated. In the time he’d known her, she’d never been a major drinker. He’d noted that, not only because he noted most things about this beautiful woman, but because the fact that she wasn’t an overdrinker or major partier stood out in a town like New Orleans.
She was very upset. And that upset him.
“Well,” she said once her drink was gone and she’d pulled herself up, stick straight, “those didn’t reveal too much.”
Cort nodded, even though he was in total disagreement. Those pictures revealed a whole damned lot to him. For example, how much he was into Katie. His desire for her might as well have been written on his face in marker.
I’m crazy about Katie Lambert.
He wondered if she saw it, too. Was that part of why she felt the way she did?
“Well,” he said, willing himself to sound as calm as she did, “we know we were at the Old Opera House at some point. And Raven was with us. And that, again, it would seem that we are married.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her tone actually sounding almost sad.
Wasn’t it bad enough she didn’t want to be married to him, did she have to be depressed about it, too?
“I wonder how Raven ended up being your best man?” she said, reaching for her drink, only to realize it was empty. She dropped her hand back to her lap.
“Another?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“I don’t know. That is a mystery,” he said. “I personally can’t stand the guy.”
“I’m not a fan either,” Katie said, and her admission pleased him.
Now there was his worst nightmare—Katie dating Raven after their annulment.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “I’d have to deny you an annulment if you told me you had a thing for him.”
Sure, he’d said that to be funny, but he wasn’t sure it was totally untrue.
And apparently it hadn’t sounded like a joke to her either, because she turned slightly on her barstool to study him.
Shit, he shouldn’t have said that.
But to his relief, she managed a small laugh. “You really must dislike the guy.”
Cort disliked the idea of him anywhere near Katie. And if he was going to be really honest, at least with himself, Raven’s obvious interest in Katie was probably the primary reason he didn’t like the man.
He smiled, then used her words. “I’m not a fan.”
She smiled back and he got lost for a moment. He loved her smile. It was light, sunshine, warm and cheery. He’d been drawn to that from the first moment he saw her.
“Maybe I took some pictures on my phone, too,” she said suddenly, looking around her. “Oh wait, I don’t have my purse. Oh no. I hope it’s at your place.”
“It probably is,” Cort reassured her, although who knew, with the night they had? He patted his own pocket, remembering his phone was in his jeans.
He dug it out and pressed the sequence of buttons to get him to his camera.
“I don’t have any,” he said, not surprised. He didn’t use his phone for much but phone calls and the occasional text. He noticed he didn’t have any of those either. He wondered what the other guys had found out. Probably as little as they had.
He set the phone on the bar as he reached for his drink again.
“We really had a great time with you all last night,” Betty said, her attention no longer on her camera. She shifted so she was smiling at both of them. “You two are just the cutest couple. Ed and I can’t wait to see your bands play.”
How weird to know that these people, these strangers, didn’t see them as strangers. And why should they? Betty and Ed had been a part of their wedding. That was bonding.
Cort wanted to ask where they’d been married but couldn’t bring himself to admit he had no idea. Especially since this woman seemed to consider them the romance of the century. William and Kate had nothing on Cort and Katie and their forgotten wedding.
“And your story is just so romantic,” Betty said with a sigh, backing up his theory. The older woman took a sip of her drink, her expression dreamy.
What story?
Cort glanced at Katie.
“It is romantic,” Katie said. “But what especially about our story did you find romantic?”
Betty made a face like it should be obvious, which for people without complete memory loss, it probably would be.
“Well, that Cort saved your life,” Betty said, shaking her head.
“Oh right,” Katie said. Cort could tell that comment didn’t trigger any memories. Nor for him.
But Cort couldn’t help find the comment rather ironic, since he knew he was still the prime candidate for actually taking her life. Sure, he gave her a new, immortal existence, but still, to cross her over, Cort had to have drained her mortal life.
Katie glanced at him, but then refocused on Betty. “It is so romantic. Do you mind telling us the story?”
When Betty made a confused face, Katie added, “Both Cort and I actually love hearing it, too.”
Katie smiled then so radiant and so sincere, that Cort almost believed her. They did love hearing the story.
“Well, I have to admit that when you shared it with me, I might have been a little tipsy,” Betty said, a little embarrassed, which she hardly needed to be with them, “but you did tell us that Katie had a terrible accident and Cort saved her. You even gave her your own blood to rescue her.”
Gave her his own blood. Cort would have had to give her his own blood to transform her into a vampire. Another indication he was the biter—which he’d suspected right from the start anyway.
But Katie had had a terrible accident?
“A terrible accident,” Katie said, her tone pondering, their thoughts synched.
Then Katie seemed to realize how she sounded, because she nodded, and said definitely, “Yes, it was a terrible accident.”
“It sounded horrific,” Betty said, reaching out to pat Katie’s hand, although she looked almost as puzzled as they did. “Although, you didn’t really tell us exactly what happened. Aside from Cort being your hero.”
Cort could tell Betty wanted more details.
Oh, if only we knew, Betty.
“I don’t actually like to talk about that part,” Katie said, offering Betty a sad smile. “It’s—it’s difficult, you know, to remember that part.”
Very difficult. Damned near impossible.
“I can only imagine,” Betty said, sympathetically patting Katie’s hand again. “But thankfully Cort was there.”
“Yes. Thankfully.”
Katie couldn’t be feeling nearly as grateful as she managed to sound. How could she be pleased about being a vampire against her will? And at his hands—or rather his fangs? It was a wonder she didn’t hate him.
Hell, maybe she did. Cort suspected it would be hard to tell if the sweet, sunny Katie hated anyone. Not a comforting thought at this moment.
Beside him the bird shuffled around, and he thought he heard the awful creature say something about slapping some fat. Or maybe riding a wave. He wasn’t really sure. He was too busy watching Katie, trying to read her expression. The real one beyond her fake smile.
She must have sensed his intent look, because she turned to him, regarding him back. Looking directly into her eyes, he could see all those emotions still there.
He opened his mouth to say they should leave, when he heard a loud clatter next to him. He looked around, trying to figure out what caused the noise.
“Your phone,” Katie said, pointing to the floor beside his stool.
The bird stood on the edge of the bar, bobbing its head and looking quite pleased with itself.
Cort rose from his stool, then bent down to pick up the phone. He shoved it in his pocket, suddenly feeling too frustrated to deal with any of this. All they were doing was going around in circles. For everything they did find out about last night, there was just another question.
And he was sick of it.
He couldn’t fix Katie being a vampire. But he could fix the marriage situation. And as far as whatever else happened, he didn’t give a shit. They’d go find the damned priest, find out about an annulment, and things would go back to normal as much as they could.
“Okay, we have to go,” he stated, his tone so gruff that even Betty didn’t argue this time. And of course, if Betty didn’t argue, Ed wouldn’t think of it.
Katie, however, looked surprised by his sudden change of mood. Her brow creased slightly, and now she studied him. Even the bird stopped its pleased head bobbing and spread its wings and cawed loudly, as if to share opposition to the idea. Adding to that, it tottered back to its drink.
“Screw that, buddy,” he muttered to the bird. “You are done, too.”
He reached for the feathered bastard, which pecked him, yet again. Cort snatched his hand away, shaking out the sharp pain.
“Then stay here, you asshole,” he growled lowly to the beast, and he reached for the Elvis cookie jar instead.
Remembering they had drinks to pay for, he shoved his free, non-injured hand into his pocket.
“We’ve got the drinks.”
Cort’s attention shot back to the older couple, startled. It had been Ed who offered to pay. Maybe he did make decisions in the relationship after all.
“Thank you,” Cort said, giving the man a genuine nod of appreciation.
“Are you ready?” Cort said to Katie.
She nodded, still looking confused by his sudden need to leave. Betty insisted on hugging them both again. Finally, Cort gestured for Katie to go ahead of him, then they both started toward the door.
“Oh, your bird,” Betty called.
Cort turned to tell them that bird wasn’t his and he could stay right where he was, but the bird took that moment to decide he, too, was leaving after all.
The parrot flapped its wings and swooped off the bar, navigating the narrow room without incident to land right on Cort’s shoulder.
The few patrons in the bar applauded as if the bird had done some amazing feat of acrobatics.
Cort nodded in a very feeble attempt to be gracious, then he stepped out onto Bourbon Street.
“Next time you peck me, buddy, you are going straight to the pound,” he muttered to the winged beast.
The parrot bobbed its head in antagonistic response.