The 24-Hour Poker Challenge was on ESPN 3, and Remi was watching with rapt attention. He didn’t care who won. He was concentrating on the faces, the movements of the players, and how they taunted each other, subtly and outright. He was focusing on their tells, analyzing the whens and whys they used them, which ones worked, and on what personality type.

He had DVRed the hours of the program he missed when he was at rest, then later zoomed through the commercial interruptions, catching up to current live action quickly.

Glancing at his phone on the table, he noticed that Michelle hadn’t returned the text he’d sent to her almost an hour before. He thought she’d like having the night to herself, after being cooped up with him for so long, but her ignoring his message told him that she might be pissed off instead.

Pausing the show, he typed another text.

What are you doing? Having fun?

After ten minutes with no response, he sent one more.

What time are you gonna be home?

Nothing.

Regardless of how upset she’d been with him in the past, she’d always replied, even if it was terse. Not saying anything at all wasn’t like her, and worry for her safety crept over him. He had no idea where she’d gone, hadn’t bothered to ask, and had no clue who she was with, if anybody at all.

What was I thinking, sending her off that way?

As he looked at his phone, his mind raced, filled with visions of her being hurt and unable to reach him. It would have been impossible to search every spot in the city for her before dawn.

He pressed the number for her speed dial, and the system took a second to connect. Michelle answered on the fourth ring, right before it would’ve switched to voicemail.

“Hey, Remi. What’s up?”

“You okay, chér?”

“Yeah. Just helping a woman who’s in trouble.”

“You didn’t answer my texts.”

“Oh, my phone was in my purse, and I just pulled it out to check it. I’ve been kinda busy.”

“What kind of trouble? Drugs, domestic, or both?”

In New Orleans, there was always somebody in need of a handout. Remi had set up a special fund for those like the one he assumed Michelle was trying to guide to sources of assistance.

The rate of success and full long-term recovery from most dependencies was low. He was a prime example, and he knew it, going from heroin to gambling. Addiction was in his nature, but his current one… he was good at.

“I don’t know. Some guys were chasing her. Remi, one was a vampire for sure. But Marcel took care of it.”

“What? I know that old man’s got some safeguards from supes at his place, but how’d he get rid of them?”

“I’m not sure. She was running, terrified and begging people to help her, but nobody did until Marcel told them to do it. It was like he was compelling them somehow. I think he might be a warlock or something. Who knows? It was weird, watching everybody around stop what they were doing and obey him like that. Anyway, she dashed in here and didn’t stop till she locked herself in the bathroom in the back. The baddie of the bunch came over towards the building, but after Marcel hollered at him for a bit, he left.”

“A vampire was able to get that close?”

“Well, he stopped on the sidewalk. Marcel told him he couldn’t come in.”

“Oui. His place is warded against vamps. The rest of them must not’ve been human, either, or they would’ve tried to go in there and take her by force.” Remi shuddered at the thought of Michelle being in such a dangerous situation. A moment later, he asked, “Did you give her the contact information for the outreach center?”

“No. I didn’t need to. Her ankle’s hurt, so she’s gonna stay here with him in his extra room upstairs. He said he’d take care of her.” She sighed, and Remi closed his eyes at the sweet sound of her breath in his ear. “What a night. Did you need something?”

“Non. Sit tight, chér. Have another drink. I’m gonna come get you and bring you home.”

A beat passed, and he imagined how her eyebrows had scrunched together.

“You don’t have to do that. They’re all gone. I can call a cab.”

“Non.” He jumped to his feet, flashing to the side table where his keys lay. “I don’t care what kind of mojo Marcel has going on, and we don’t know who that vamp was... or the others with him. They could be hanging around, hiding, waiting to make their next move. You wouldn’t be safe once you stepped outside his door, and you’re sure as hell not getting into a car with a stranger. Not after all that.” He paused, waiting for a response. “You there, Michelle?”

Her voice was soft when she answered, “Yeah. I’ll wait for you, Remi.”

As he swiped his finger across the screen to end the call, the protective vehemence with which he spoke to her surprised him. He slipped the phone into his pocket, and a moment later, he looked down at his fist and saw his blood seeping around the jagged metal of the keys, and he realized that he’d meant every word.

After a quick drive to Marcel’s place, he shifted his black Cadillac Escalade into Park in front of the bar. Hopping out, he rounded the vehicle, holding a hand up to Michelle for her to wait, as his eyes scanned the surroundings. Nothing seemed out of sorts, so he beckoned for her to come out, extending his hand to her. She took it, and he guided her to the car.

“Oh, can you pop the trunk? I need to put this inside.”

“What’s in it?”

“Sophie’s dirty clothes. I’m helping Marcel. He gave her something to change into.”

“Why can’t they take care of it? His washing machine broken?”

“I’m just trying to do something nice, Remi. It’s late. I’m a little drunk and really tired. I wanna go home and crawl into bed with you.”

“Okay, chér.”

When he clicked the remote, the lid lifted, and he waited for her to toss in the bag. Then he pressed the button again to close it. When she stumbled to the front, he helped her in, closed her door, and rounded the vehicle, climbing into the other side.

Taking Michelle’s hand in his, he raised it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her skin. As she sat beside him, he glanced at her and wondered for the first time if he should make her vampire.

The long-term relationship he dismissed before had become something he desired without his realizing it... until that night, when the possibility of her absence from his life had become all too real.