chapter Nineteen
POSSIBLY KATIE OVERREACTS
KATIE had bitten Cort and liked it.
She looked down at the back of her hand. His blood was now dried to her pale skin. She stared at it, then looked away disgusted, not only at her actions, but at the fact, even now, she was tempted to lick the stain.
“This can’t be right,” she said to herself. It couldn’t be normal to want to . . . eat a person you loved.
She froze for a moment, realizing exactly what she’d just thought to herself.
A person she loved? Did she—she remained totally still—really feel that way?
She sat up, looking around her as if someone or something could give her that answer. But nothing external could or needed to do that. She knew the answer deep inside herself.
She did love Cort, and had for a long time—as fanciful and schoolgirlish as that sounded.
She looked down at her hand again. And she needed him, too. She wasn’t sure she knew how to be a vampire—or at least control all of these new desires.
The blood on her hand had dried, but she still felt the urge to lick it. That couldn’t be normal. Although maybe, in vampire terms, it was a bit like eating dried fruit or something.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” she muttered to herself and threw back the covers. She slipped out of bed and gathered up her T-shirt and her panties. She pulled them on, then headed across the hall to the bathroom, but she stopped just inside the bathroom door. She could hear Cort talking.
“For real?” There was a pause. “Yeah, I guess so.”
His tone sounded strange, but Katie couldn’t tell what he was talking about. Or to who.
She went into the bathroom and quickly washed her hands in the sink, then wiped them on a dubiously clean towel hanging on a rack by the shower.
She stepped back into the hallway to hear Cort say something about the parrot always trying to peck his balls. The bird was darned annoying and did like to peck, but she didn’t think it had attempted that particular area before. It sounded to her like he just wanted to get off the phone.
He sounded strange. Maybe a little upset, or disappointed. She wasn’t really sure. Who had he been talking to?
Just as she started toward the kitchen, she heard the apartment door open.
“Yo.” She heard Drake’s gravelly voice.
“Hey.” Cort sounded distracted.
She hurried back to Cort’s bedroom door, not wanting to be caught in just her panties and a tee. But she left the door open partway and listened.
“I have good news for you, my man,” Drake said. Or at least that’s what Katie thought he said. His words were a little slurred and thick like he had cotton in his mouth.
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Cort still sounded like he was only half listening.
“That priest—” Drake said in a leading way as if he expected Cort to respond.
Cort obviously didn’t.
“You know, that one from the bathtub,” Drake prompted.
“Yes, I know who you are talking about. It’s not like I know many damned priests.”
Wow, Cort sounded downright testy.
“Well, excusth me,” Drake slurred. “Well, it turns out, he’s a—”
“A stripper,” Cort finished for him. “Yeah, I know. I just got off the phone with Wyatt.”
“Oh,” Drake said, clearly disappointed that he hadn’t gotten to share the news first. “Well, shit, man, you don’t exactly sound as pleased as I thought you would.”
Cort didn’t answer for a second, then he said, “No, it’s definitely a good thing. I mean, married. That would have been totally crazy.”
“Totally crazy,” Drake agreed, his tone decisive even through the slurring. But Katie wasn’t concerned with Drake’s feelings about her and Cort’s marriage. She only cared about how Cort felt.
“I didn’t think it could be real,” Drake said. “Marriage is not your thing, my man. We all know that.”
“No,” Cort agreed. “I’m not about that. Not at all.”
Katie’s stomach sank—no, more than sank. She actually felt sick to her stomach. Here she’d been thinking about the fact that she loved him, had loved him for some time, and needed him to show her how to adapt to her new life. Or death. Or whatever.
Damn, she could feel tears welling up in her eyes. She was a vampire, for crap’s sake, didn’t that mean she shouldn’t be able to cry or something?
She sure as heck didn’t want Cort to find her all blotchy and red-eyed. She turned and hurried to find her jeans and flip-flops.
She threw them on then paused at the door. She also didn’t want to greet Drake looking all tousled, smelling like sex, which she knew firsthand he would smell with no problem, and bleary eyes. She’d suffered enough embarrassment for one day, but she had to get out of here.
She crept back to the door and listened again. The two men’s voices still emanated from the kitchen, which meant she couldn’t leave yet, since the apartment door was off from the room where they were.
She looked around her, glancing at the window. That was a no-go, since the jump from the window had to be more than twenty feet down. But she walked over to look anyway.
Easing up the window, she winced and glanced over her shoulder as the noise from Bourbon Street filled Cort’s room. Had they noticed? She didn’t hear anything, so she stuck her head out the window, trying to judge how far away the ground was. Could she make that jump?
Oh hell no.
But wait, she was a vampire now. She might be able to make it. She looked back down at the dirty, cracked pavement below.
Nah, she’d wait to find out about that ability. Not to mention, even as rowdy and drunk as the partiers on Bourbon Street were, they’d definitely notice a woman jumping out of a building.
She debated other possibilities. She could turn into a bat, couldn’t she? That was a potential option. But how did she go about it?
Try focusing, she told herself, visualizing herself as a small black creature with large ears, beady black eyes, and flapping wings.
That was kind of disturbing, actually. Maybe she would be a cuter bat, more like a Disney movie sort of bat. She liked that image better.
She refocused, imagining her new bat self as well as adding a little of the Peter Pan version of how to take flight—happy thoughts, minus the pixie dust, of course. She scrunched up her face, squeezing her eyes closed, and began to talk quietly to herself.
“Warm puppies, strawberry smoothies, rainstorms, warm breezes, pedicures, hot fudge sundaes, good music, laughing, riding a bike without hands, Christmas morning . . . believe, believe.”
After a moment, she opened one eye, then the other, and looked down at herself.
Nothing. No wings or ears, cute or otherwise. Nothing had changed, except several tourists had stopped on the sidewalk below to peer up at her. She backed away from the open window, realizing she probably did look rather crazy.
Okay, so the window was definitely not an escape option.
She tiptoed back to the door, just in time to hear footfalls coming down the hall. She slipped behind the door, hoping they passed.
They did.
“You still got the bird, huh?” Drake said.
“Yeah. No one would take that damned thing even if you paid them.”
Katie had to agree with that.
Drake chuckled.
“The new tooth looks good,” Cort said, their voices becoming more muffled as they walked into the living room.
“Thankth, man. Although thith Novocain stuff sthuck.”
Well that explained Drake’s sudden and strange lisp.
“What happened to Katie, anyway?” Drake asked.
“She’s resting,” Cort said, and Katie noticed he didn’t add that she was resting in his room. Was he ashamed of what they’d done as well as being relieved that he wasn’t saddled with her as a wife, for even a brief time?
Well, that was fine. Right now, she just needed to get out of here and think. She listened. They were definitely in the living room. Now was the time to make her break.
She slowly pushed open the door, glad the hinges didn’t creak. She poked her head out and looked toward the living room, praying neither man was in a place where they could see her.
They weren’t, so she crept into the hallway, moving as quickly and quietly as she could. When she reached the kitchen, she actually allowed herself a moment to pull in a deep, calming breath.
She’d just finally made love with the man she’d fantasized about for years, and it had surpassed every one of those fantasies. And now she was sneaking away, hoping to not see him again for a good, long while. That definitely was not how their lovemaking had ended in her fantasies.
She glanced over her shoulder, struggling with another wave of tears. She swiped at her eyes, irritated that she was being such a damned girl. She forced herself to stand tall, and suppress any more crying.
Go, she told herself. Just go.
The apartment door also cooperated, making no sound as she eased it open. She stepped through the door into the dingy, narrow stairwell, and was about to pull the door shut, when a loud caw echoed throughout the kitchen.
Startled, she looked around to see the parrot still perched on top of the refrigerator. The annoying creature cocked its head to the side as it watched her, its beady little eyes regarding her as if it realized she was trying to escape without notice. And it wasn’t going to let that happen.
“She’s gone, she’s gone,” the bird warbled in that eerie singsong way.
Katie glared at the animal. The darned thing was narcing on her. Was it really possible that a bird could be that smart? And that conniving?
“She’s gone, she’s gone,” it repeated, louder this time.
Katie put a finger to her lips to shush the bird, then realized what she was doing. Smart or not, she was still trying to reason with a darned parrot.
Okay, the bird might want to stay perched in the kitchen, but it was time for her to take flight. With a little more force than she intended, she pulled the door closed and turned to rush down the narrow wooden staircase.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she reached the street, or maybe it didn’t. Probably not, now that she came to think about it, since she was now undead. But she did feel panicked, which seemed silly, since she was pretty certain Cort wouldn’t follow her anyway.
Why would he? He’d made it pretty clear in his conversation with Drake that he didn’t want to be married to her. Sure, Cort was a nice guy and would have made the best of the situation, but he didn’t want her. And here she’d been so willing to fall into bed with him. And stay married, too, if she was being honest.
Talk about being pathetic. It was probably childish to run, but she was too embarrassed to face him, still wanting him, still being crazy about him.
So she wouldn’t face him. She looked toward Bourbon but immediately dismissed heading in that direction. It would be the easiest place to get lost, amongst the crowds, but it was too much of a sensory overload nightmare. She headed right instead, with no destination in mind. She just had to get as far away from Cort as she could.
* * *
“WHAT THE HELL ith that?” Drake said, then wiped his mouth. Clearly he wasn’t used to the new fang yet. Or Novocain really affected vampires. Cort didn’t know the answer to that, since he had his original fangs.
“That stupid parrot.”
Drake made a face. “It’s really off-key.”
“It’s a bird,” Cort pointed out, moving away from the window, looking down the hallway.
“I thought birds could sing.”
Cort shrugged, really not concerned with birds’ abilities to carry a tune. “Did you hear the door, too?”
“I don’t know.”
Cort frowned back at Drake, who had now gone from fiddling with his missing tooth to fiddling with his fixed one.
Cort shook his head and walked down the hall. Obviously Drake had spent too much time with Saxon.
When Cort entered the kitchen, the only one he found there was the parrot, which flapped down from the fridge and landed on his favorite perching spot, Cort’s left shoulder.
“She’s gone, she’s gone.”
Cort winced slightly at the loud, irritating sound of the bird so close to his ear, but then the parrot’s awfully sung words sank in.
Katie had left.
He spun and hurried to his bedroom. Sure enough, the room was empty and Katie’s clothes were gone.
Shit! Why would she leave? Had she heard they weren’t married and she figured she didn’t need to hang around any longer? Or had she regretted the fact that they’d made love? Was she ashamed and embarrassed of that, too?
No, he believed her reaction to him was real. She had been genuinely attracted and responsive. He believed that. He had to believe that. He couldn’t deal with the possibility that she hadn’t felt anything when he’d felt so much. So damned much. Enough that he’d wanted their marriage to be real.
Even now, he knew he had to find her and try to convince her they had to give being a couple a shot, marriage or no marriage.
Wow, that sounded weird, but oh well. He was determined to be with this woman. Forever.
“Drake, get off your ass,” he yelled. “We need to go find Katie.”
Drake appeared in the doorway of the living room. “You lost Katie?”
Cort sighed. Yeah, Drake had definitely spent too much time with Saxon, but at least his dentist-induced lisp was lessening. He hoped.
“Come on.”
Drake fell into step behind him. “Where are we going?”
Cort had no idea, but he had to find her. Not only because he needed to talk to her and see what she was thinking, but also because she was a new vampire, and that could be dangerous for herself and others if she got into a situation that she didn’t know how to handle.
“Just come on.”
* * *
AS KATIE MADE her escape, it didn’t take her long to realize something very important. It probably would have made a lot more sense to have spent the time alone in Cort’s bedroom looking for her purse rather than attempting to turn into a bat flying on the wings of happy thoughts.
She stopped on the corner of Dumaine and St. Peter, looking around, debating what to do. Her options were sort of limited since she didn’t have a wallet, or a phone, or the keys to her apartment. And it was way too late to wake up her curmudgeon of a neighbor, who’d had her spare key from when she’d watered Katie’s plants the last time she’d gone home to visit her parents. Katie was pretty sure her neighbor wouldn’t answer even if she knocked.
Yeah, this was definitely an unfortunate situation she was in.
She looked around her again. The streets were quieter down this way, nearly empty at this time of night. Even a little bit eerie, because they were so empty.
Although she quickly realized she wasn’t totally alone. Across the street and down a little ways, standing in a doorway, was a dark figure. Tall, almost unnaturally thin. She got the feeling it was male, and definitely creepy.
Katie decided she’d better head back toward Bourbon, at least close enough to have other people milling around. She started down St. Peter, her gait swift, although she tried not to appear unnerved in any way.
From behind her, she sensed rather than heard, or maybe she did hear—either way, she knew the dark figure had left the doorway and followed her.
She doubled her steps.
“Hey!” a voice called from a few feet behind her, male and gravelly.
She didn’t stop to look behind her.
“Hey,” he shouted again, and Katie could tell the guy was getting closer. In fact, she sensed that he was going to touch her, even before a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She didn’t need to see the hand to know she was being touched by a large palm and long, bony fingers.
Alarmed, she spun and swung at the creepy figure. Her poorly fisted hand connected with the side of his head, and to her amazement, the man reeled under the force of her hit, literally lifting off the ground and slamming against the wooden shutters of the building beside them. The tall figure crumpled to the ground like a flung-aside rag doll.
Katie knew this was her chance to flee, but she couldn’t move, too amazed at what she’d just done. Was she really that strong now? Or had that been a lucky punch?
Really? Was now the time to wonder about her preternatural abilities? This was her opportunity to get away from this weirdo; she could debate her possible superhuman strength somewhere else.
She turned to rush away, only to stop again when she heard his pained, mumbled words. “I just wanted my parrot.”
Slowly, she spun back to the man, who still lay slumped against the wall, holding a large hand with long, thin fingers to the side of his head. His face was hidden by shadows, and she was reminded of a skeleton. But as she stared at his prone body, she realized he reminded her of more than a skeleton—something about his dirty shorts and tank was actually familiar.
Katie crept closer, although she made sure not to get close enough that he could suddenly reach out and grab her. She’d seen enough horror movies to know how these situations could go.
But then again, she would probably be considered the monster in this scenario. Totally weird.
“Your parrot?” she said to the man.
“Winston.”
Katie thought about the red bird back at Cort’s apartment. She would have gone with Satan, herself. Maybe Beelzebub. But she supposed Winston could work, too.
That was, if they were talking about the same parrot. She caught herself. Really? What were the chances of a stranger chasing her to get a parrot back if he wasn’t looking for the parrot they had? New Orleans was a strange place, but not that strange.
Of course, this was a newly created vampire thinking this. Maybe it was that weird, but she still doubted it.
“You didn’t lose Winston, did you?” The man tried to struggle upright, but groaned, pressing a hand back to the place where she’d hit him.
Guilt filled her, and she tossed her better judgment to the wind and stepped forward to help him. She immediately regretted her moment of sympathy as his overwhelming stench assaulted her nostrils. She suppressed a gag, and continued to hold his arm until he struggled to his feet.
He swayed slightly, but as soon as he seemed to have his balance, she released him and backed away. She was sorry she couldn’t be more helpful, especially when she’d been the one to hurt him, but that smell. It was like the man just rolled out of bed from cuddling with a skunk and then bathed in a hot, decomposing landfill.
“Did you lose him?” He sounded so heartbroken, that for a moment Katie forgot the stench.
He stepped forward, his face coming fully into the light of the streetlamp for the first time. Again, Katie got the feeling she’d seen this man before. Well, obviously she had, but she actually recognized him. Maybe she was actually remembering something from last night. She searched her brain, but nothing definitive came to her.
“Did you lose Winston?” he asked again.
Katie shook her head, studying him closer, trying to remember where and when they’d met last night, and maybe, just maybe, the events that surrounded the meeting.
“Does your husband still have him?”
Husband? Well, he must have been a part of her sham wedding celebration, and didn’t know that she and Cort weren’t really married.
That silly feeling of disappointment weighed on her chest again.
“Yes, Winston is still with Cort,” she managed to say past that heavy tightness.
The man smiled, but only briefly as his large hand returned to the side of his head and he grimaced.
“You pack a hell of a wallop for such a tiny thing.”
“I’m—I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. She supposed that was part of now being a vampire that she’d have to be aware of. She was very strong. And fast.
Even though she wasn’t pleased that she’d actually hurt this man, she had to admit, it was kind of thrilling to be able to protect herself in a way she wouldn’t have been able to before. It certainly didn’t make her the typical girl next door that she’d always considered herself.
“Could we go get him?” the dirty man said, still rubbing his head.
Katie would love nothing more than to give this man back his bird. She was certain Cort would love nothing more, too, but there was no way she was going back to Cort’s place. Not yet. She couldn’t face Cort yet. She felt too confused and fragile.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, “but I can’t.”
The man frowned through his layers of filth. “Why not? I mean, I know it’s not proper to ask for a wedding gift back, but I was so hyped up from dancing and whatnot, and I didn’t think through giving you Winston.”
The parrot had been a wedding gift. Of course. Why else would they have the bird? Right . . . just more weirdness.
It was already strange enough that this . . . well, he appeared to be a vagrant . . . would have a talking parrot.
“He’s my best friend,” the man added.
A talking parrot as a best friend. It all made perfect sense. Totally.
The vagrant stepped closer and again, Katie backed away.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, and she believed he was sincere. The problem was, his scent just might.
“Please don’t worry. I’m sure Cort—” When the man frowned, Katie clarified by saying, “My husband will gladly give you back Winston. We’d never expect you to part with something so dear to you.”
The vagrant smiled then, revealing what might have once been quite a charming grin, before the yellowed and missing teeth.
Suddenly Katie knew where she recognized him from, and it wasn’t from her own memories of last night, it was from that couple Betty and Ed’s photographs.
This was the vagrant dancer that they’d mentioned. But why hadn’t they also mentioned him as being a part of the wedding party along with them?
“Where did we meet last night?”
“After your wedding ceremony. You were married by one of my dear friends, Annalese Bonvieux.”
Katie frowned. She was pretty sure the priest in the bathtub would not have that name.
“Could you bring me to . . . her?” Katie guessed he must be referring to a woman.
“Of course I can,” the man agreed with another wide smile. “And you will get me back Winston?”
“Absolutely.”
The man gestured for her to follow him and they headed toward Bourbon, which again made her feel a little more secure going with the homeless man. Of course, she did know she could defend herself, but old cautions died hard. Harder than she had, apparently.
As they walked, the vagrant chattered on about things and places that he seemed to think she should know about. Some tarot card reader in Jackson Square who could tell the future as sure as if she were reading a book. Katie wasn’t even sure what that meant. And about a band he loved over at Boney’s, a bar Katie had never heard of. The man talked like they were old friends, and for all she knew they might have talked about all these things last night. But tonight, she had no idea what he was talking about.
In fact, from his erratic rambling and changing of subjects, Katie wondered if she should even trust that this man really did know who had supposedly performed her and Cort’s wedding.
He was a vagrant after all. He was probably no more of a reliable source of information than his bird had been.
But at this point, what did one more wild-goose chase really matter?
“Oh, hear that?” the man said suddenly, grinning wildly. Katie frowned, since getting closer to Bourbon she could hear dozens of things. Bands, people, laughter, fights, even faintly under all of that, the beating of their hearts. So given all of those sounds to choose from, she couldn’t begin to guess which sound he referred to.
“I love this band,” he said, suddenly beginning to jig right there in the street.
Katie found herself smiling as she watched the man’s utter abandonment to the music and his dance. And in truth, he was actually rather good.
“I have to go listen for a while,” he said, heading to a bar on the corner.
“Wait,” Katie said, but the man disappeared into the crowded mass of partiers.
She debated following him, but knew she couldn’t handle being bombarded by all the sounds and smells. Never mind the jostling of the crowd, bodies close to her, body heat, and the sweet scent that seemed to cling to every mortal like a sugary coating. Even now, keeping her distance, that smell called to her.
She distanced herself a little more from the hopping bar and waited. And waited.
After standing there for more than fifteen minutes, she decided maybe she should just go. Following the man in the first place had probably been a fool’s errand, and the longer she stood out here, with people wandering everywhere, the more she could feel that underlying hunger building deep inside her.
But where could she go? She had a name, Annalese Bonvieux. She could try to find this woman on her own. But she didn’t even know where to start.
Darn, she really just wanted to go back to her apartment. She wanted peace and quiet.
She wanted the bag of blood in Cort’s fridge, she realized with mild disgust. Sadly, very mild disgust.
She guessed she’d have to settle for somewhere here in the Quarter. But what place would be even vaguely quiet.
Fahy’s, she decided, risking cutting across Bourbon and down one of the side streets. Fahy’s could be busy at times, but she thought it was probably late enough to be safe. Plus, Katie knew the bartender well, and he’d probably let her order a drink and just give him the money tomorrow night once she figured out how to get her purse back from Cort. If it was even there.
When she reached Fahy’s green front door, she knew she’d made the right choice. The place looked quiet tonight. Thank God.
She opened the door and stepped into the calming dimness. The dark wood of the bar also seemed to ease her tension, as well as the soft rock coming from the jukebox. Who would have thought Air Supply could soothe the savage beast?
“Nigel,” she greeted the bartender with a smile, glad to be somewhere that felt normal and familiar, but the normalcy, at least, was short-lived.
“Katie-Katie, my girl,” Nigel said in his wonderful British accent. “I’m surprised to see you out and about tonight. I would have thought last night would have been more than enough excitement for a while.”
Katie forced herself to return his smile.
Nigel reached for a mug hanging on a rack above his head, then he placed it under the spigot of her favorite beer. Once it was filled, he set the full mug in front of her and leaned on the bar.
“After all, it isn’t every day a young bird like you meets her maker,” he said, shaking his head.
“Meet my maker?”
“Aye,” he said, then regarded her closely. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember a thing about last night either.”
“Either?” She was starting to feel a bit like Winston, repeating everything Nigel said. Not that Winston seemed to be the type of parrot that did that. He had plenty to say without mimicking.
“Yeah, some of the others were in here earlier,” Nigel said. “Wyatt, Stella, that confused kid with the long blonde hair.”
“Saxon,” Katie said automatically.
“Yeah, him. They were here and seemed a little confused by the events of last night. Of course, they didn’t have nearly the reason you do to be confused.”
Well, Nigel was right, she was confused. Very confused. “They don’t?”
Nigel shook his head, giving her a sympathetic look. “You don’t remember a thing about what happened on the riverboat, do you?”
She shook her head. She hadn’t even realized Nigel had been there, although it made sense he would be. Katie knew Nigel was friends with the band guys, and Johnny had come here often after he was done playing. Of course, Nigel would go to the memorial to pay his respects.
“Probably a good thing you don’t remember,” Nigel said and reached out to pat one of Katie’s hands in an almost fatherly way. “All I can say is thank Mary and Joseph that Cort was there. If he hadn’t done what he did, well, you wouldn’t be sitting here with a pint, I can tell you that.”
“What did he do?”
“Why, saved your life, of course,” Nigel said frankly, then he leaned forward. “Well, you know, our version of life anyway.”
Katie stared at Nigel. He was a vampire, too? Holy crap, was everyone she knew a vampire?
“What happened to me?” she asked, the question as surreal as finding out all the people she’d known for years were undead.
“Well, you cracked your head open, dear.”