Chapter Two

 

 

“CAN you believe how long this week was?”

Avery looked up from where he was finalizing his notes for the next week’s lectures to see his friend Macy standing at the door. She was a few years older than him and a professor of art history. She was also one of the first friends he made when he moved to town. He and Macy were… well, he wasn’t sure he would’ve made it through his first year of teaching without her.

“I know. What are you doing? You can’t stay. I’ve gotta finish these notes.”

She came to visit his office fairly regularly from her own in another building across campus, but he hadn’t been expecting to see her so early in the afternoon. Macy was her usual self, a bit too stylish to be a professor, a little too exciting for the art department. Her general art history classes were popular with the students too, and she often had a rather large lecture hall more than halfway filled with very adoring male students. Avery wasn’t surprised by that. She had on a snug V-neck sweater and a pencil skirt and heels. Her hair was meticulously curled and fell down her back in perfect buttery waves. She really was beautiful. At least in an objective way. He’d never seen her as anything other than a sister.

“I think we need a drink,” she told him matter-of-factly.

“Oh, Mace, it’s been such a long week. I’m not sure I can make our drinks night this time.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She gave him an unimpressed look. “It’s been a long week for all of us. I got to break up a political debate in the middle of my European masters lecture that almost turned into a smackdown. Not sure how Renoir turned into Republicans versus Democrats, but Jesus. I would’ve canceled class if I’d known it would end up that way.”

“Yikes.” She’d texted him “longest day ever” earlier with a crying emoji, but he hadn’t gotten the details.

“Yeah. Yikes is the exact word for it. Which is why I really think I’m going to need a drink, and I’m also going to need my best friend to get a drink with me, unless he’d like to start the application process for finding a new best friend. You’ve ditched me far too many times already this quarter.” She was joking. But also annoyed. Avery knew her annoyed face better than just about anything else.

“Can I at least get a nap first?” He was resigned to the fact that he’d be out at least until midnight. Probably longer. He hadn’t protested that much. Probably because he needed to let loose a little bit too.

“You can. As long as it’s over by eight. We’re meeting at Darlene’s.”

“Of course.” Darlene’s was the unofficial hangout for their little group of colleagues—him, Macy, Karen, who taught biology, and Vaughn, who was a research scientist who worked in the lab with Karen. They’d gotten close over the past year when Macy dragged the other two in. Standing cocktail dates were pretty much a thing. He didn’t know why he even protested.

“Darlene’s,” Avery repeated. “Eight o’clock.”

“And none of this ‘I’ll stay for a drink and go home by nine’ junk. You pulled that last week, and I wasn’t impressed.”

“Two-drink minimum?” he asked with a snort. When Macy needed to go on a student-stress-related rant, there was little chance he’d be getting out of there for at least three drinks. He owed her one, though. She was there to listen to him moan and groan far more often than not.

“I’d bet on three.”

Avery sighed to himself. They knew each other so well it was almost scary.

 

 

“WHAT are you doing, dear?” Mrs. Peggs must’ve been surprised by Tyson’s button-up shirt and shoes that weren’t meant for lounging around the house.

“I thought I’d go see Dan, Brooke, and Donovan. It’s time to catch up.” It had been a few years since he’d been out socially.

Mrs. Peggs grinned. “Oh, darling, that’s a wonderful idea.”

He elbowed her. “You want to come?” Tyson had never been able to resist giving her a hard time.

“I would, but….” She gestured up to her suite at the top of the stairs. “Jamie Fraser beckons. I’m three episodes behind.”

“Of course.” Tyson chuckled.

“But tell Daniel hello. And that he can visit anytime he wants.”

“I will.”

Daniel was Dan, a bartender and sometime friend of Tyson—when Tyson was in the mood for dealing with friendship, that was. They’d known each other nearly as long as Tyson had been in New Orleans. Dan hadn’t changed any more than Tyson had, but he had his own… methods. Quite a few of them did.

 

 

TYSON wasn’t shocked to see Dan behind the bar in the club tucked away in the middle of the French Quarter. The place didn’t really have a name. It didn’t need one. It had been generations since someone came in who wasn’t expressly invited, and even after a few years away, it felt familiar. Comforting, he supposed.

Dan came around the bar and gave Tyson a long hug. “How have you been, man?”

“Okay.” He didn’t want to get into it. He’d never given reasons for his prolonged absences before. He wasn’t about to start. “Donovan here?”

“Not yet. He’ll get here in a little while, I think. That’s what he said twenty minutes ago, at least. There’s some chick he’s talking to in a human bar.” He shrugged. “Guess he’s into this one.”

“For tonight.”

“Yeah, man. Who knows.”

Dan and Tyson had spent more than one conversation discussing their confusion over Donovan’s taste for hanging out at human bars. He’d always said it gave him perspective. Whatever that meant.

Dan shot to the other side of the bar and back in seconds. He had a glass of water—knew that was all Tyson ever drank—no lemon, light ice. “Here ya go.”

“Looks like some things never change.”

Dan grinned ruefully. “We got new glasses. And Brooke dyed her hair blonde.” Tyson was right, though. There were things that never changed, and he liked that Donovan’s bar was one of them.

“I stand corrected.” Tyson cheered the air.

“It’s good to see you, T. Been too long.”

Tyson nodded and took a sip of his water. Then he gestured over to the other side of the bar, where a new customer was waiting. “You have someone to tend to.”

Dan tapped his forehead. “Yeah. I know.”

He winked and took off to take care of his customer.

 

 

THAT night they met at Darlene’s like always, and sat in their darkened corner booth, also like always. There wasn’t anything special about the bar, Avery supposed—other than the fact that it was far enough away from campus and typical early-twenties haunts that they never ran into any students. For Macy and Avery, that was enough to recommend it.

Darlene brought over their usual opening drinks. She’d gotten to know them well over the past few months, and at least drinkwise, the four of them were quite predictable. Avery took a long inhale of his mojito and sighed happily. It had been a good idea to come out after all. The pressure from the day seeped out slowly over the first couple of drinks and laughs with people who understood the best—well, except for Vaughn. He spent most of the time in his quiet lab doing research instead of tackling heated political arguments and inane questions. They still loved him, even if he never quite got what the rest of them were dealing with.

Avery was content. He and Macy chatted—well, vented—about their days and listened to Vaughn and Karen talk biology. About an hour into the night, Avery excused himself to go to the restroom. When he came back, he found Vaughn and Karen at the table, still talking in a language Avery barely understood about some experiment they were running on bread mold, but Macy was nowhere to be seen. Great. He didn’t want to just take off, but he knew his best friend. She got carried away sometimes when she needed to blow off steam, and he wasn’t in the mood to babysit an adult making very teenaged decisions.

“Where’d Mace go?” he asked.

Karen rolled her eyes fondly and pointed to the corner of the bar. Macy, with her curves and blonde waves, rarely left a room without a bit of male attention, and it seemed like that night wasn’t going to be much different. Avery planned to give her a few more minutes of flirtation before he went over there to see if she wanted to be escorted back to their table. It didn’t take that long, though. Macy came bounding over right as he was thinking that, with this absolutely… lust drunk look on her face. Avery had never seen anything like it. Usually she had guys, and a few women, playing her game. He didn’t know what to do with a Macy who was lusting after someone herself.

“Hey, Donovan wants to take me to this other club.”

Donovan. The lithe, dark, and gorgeous-as-hell guy brooding near the front door and who’d been taking up all her attention, Avery assumed. He wasn’t Macy’s usual type, but Avery couldn’t fault her. With his heavy-lidded bedroom eyes and shaggy dark hair, the guy looked like he should have been a pirate from some romance novel cover. Macy’s eyes sparkled, and she was a little breathless. She fluffed her hair and licked her lips. Uh-oh.

“Macy.” Avery gave her a long look.

“I want to go. I really like this one, babe. I think he’ll be a lot of fun.” She winked. “At least for a few days.”

Avery gave a long sigh and looked at Vaughn. Karen nodded and stood. “Well, I’ve got to get home to Charles. You three going to be fine?” Karen liked to come out for a few drinks, but she was married and had two teenagers. She rarely stayed out very late. The other three were okay with that and regularly continued on without her.

“We’re fine,” Vaughn said.

He and Avery stood as well. “Where is this club?” he asked.

“Donovan said it’s right in the Quarter. Not too far from Avery’s place.”

“You told him where I live?” Avery was uneasy all of a sudden. Macy was usually way savvier than that. She couldn’t possibly be so into this guy that she dropped all her city girl defenses.

“No. Of course not. He told me where the bar was, and I figured out it was close to your house. I didn’t tell him that, just you.” She gave him a light eye roll and gestured at Captain Jack smoldering at the door like he was about to plunder her in his chambers. “So, I’m going to go, okay?” she told them.

“Yeah. We’re coming too,” Vaughn said, no question implied.

“Agreed.” Avery gestured for Macy to lead the way.

“The more the merrier,” Macy replied with a grin. Then she grabbed Avery’s hand and dragged him off to meet this Donovan guy.

Looked like the night just got at least another hour longer. Maybe even more, depending on what happened once they got to this mysterious new bar.

 

 

THE trip to the bar was… strange. Macy had chosen to take a cab with Donovan, which left Vaughn and Avery to share one. They got closer and closer to Avery’s house, to a part of the Quarter that was sleepy and quiet and didn’t have anything that could be considered a club. At least not as far as Avery knew.

“You have a weird feeling about this, man?” Vaughn asked.

He’d had a weird feeling all week. But it had just gotten a hell of a lot more real. Avery was glad he wasn’t the only one.

“Very.” The entire thing sounded sketchy. He shrugged. “I just want to make sure she’s safe. She’s had a lot more than usual tonight.”

Donovan had seemed okay, if a little bit cliché in the brooding-mysterious-hottie department, but Avery wasn’t going to let anything happen to Macy. She might be an independent woman and all that, but she was still his best friend, and he took care of the people he loved.

“No. I get you, man. I’m here too. We’ll keep an eye on her.”

 

 

THE bar was in a place Avery had passed a million times. The windows, like on so many buildings in the French Quarter, showed nothing of the inside. A lot of the buildings looked rather deserted from the outside, all the life focused within, to courtyards and gardens that were sheltered from the very public streets. This place was clearly not any different. The entire building was quiet on the outside, like it was empty, but as soon as Donovan touched the door and it opened—Avery didn’t even know what to think of that, so he decided to ignore it—there was another world.

Avery, Vaughn, and Macy stared at each other in awe.

“Did you have any idea this was here?” Macy asked.

“No. Not a clue.”

The bar seemed enormous on the inside, which he supposed wasn’t a surprise since the outside façade looked like two or three buildings. Avery couldn’t see any walls. It was like they disappeared into the glowy distance. It was, in a word, opulent. But strange opulent, like something out of Avery’s steampunkiest dreams. Velvet curtains and fixtures were everywhere, all burnished gold and cranberry and antiqued brass. Odd clothing seemed to be the norm, and there were bartenders with old-fashioned vests and garters on their sleeves. Macy grabbed Avery’s hand for a moment while they both gaped before Donovan led them to a booth he announced was “his.”

“Do you, like, own this booth?” Vaughn asked. He gingerly sat down on plush velvet that matched the curtains and the walls. Yeah, the walls were covered in thick, expensive velvet as well. There was an actual oil lamp on the booth’s table, and strings of Edison bulbs hanging from the ceiling. It was downright romantic. Avery felt very out of place.

“Something like that.” Donovan gave him a small smirk.

Avery had to admit that Macy’s taste was rather impeccable. A long look at Donovan showed that, well, the guy was gorgeous, just like he’d thought back at the first bar. Totally not Macy’s style, if he was to guess, but gorgeous all the same. He had that “hipster with a heart of gold” thing going on, dark jeans, tattoos, vest open over a T-shirt, hair a little too long to be modern—kind of like Aramis meets Professor Xavier or something. Avery, well, the guy wasn’t his style either, but he had to appreciate. Donovan raised his hand slightly, and in moments there was a server at their table.

“What would you guys like to drink?” he asked.

Avery thought about protesting. He was so far out of his element, and another drink would put him into nonlucid territory, even after the drinking break the cab ride over had given him.

“We do have a few specials, sugar,” the server said. She leaned over and put her hands on the table. She was dressed simply in a low-cut tight black sheath that hugged her curves and ended at her knees, but there was something about her too, just like Donovan, just like this bar. He… wished he could put his finger on it, but it sure wasn’t ordinary. The server had platinum blonde hair curled up like a pinup from the ’50s. A quick glance told him she had on fishnet stockings and heels too. There really was one of everything in the bar. Avery found himself wanting to reach out and stroke the smooth, pale skin of her arm. She caught him looking and giggled.

“Can you do some Nightcrawlers?” Donovan asked.

“For you? Of course.” She winked and walked away.

“What did you just order us?” Vaughn asked. He looked just as out of sorts as Avery felt.

“It’s good. You’ll like it.” Donovan watched them quietly freak out for a second and then chuckled. “I promise. You’ll be fine. It’s just a specialty of the bartender. He’s an old friend.”

“How old?” Avery muttered. He suddenly had visions of his students and talks of vampires and ghosts.

Stop it.

Donovan just chuckled again and then returned his attention to Macy, who was staring around the place just like Avery and Vaughn.

“Can you believe this?” Vaughn whispered to Avery.

“No. I feel like we’ve entered some alternate universe. It seems almost like… it should be impossible. Should this actually be able to fit behind that building façade? Every time I look, it gets bigger.”

“I don’t have a clue. Where did all these people come from?”

Avery hadn’t looked in detail much past the server and Donovan, but as he scanned the room, he noticed there were… things he couldn’t explain. People could’ve stepped off the pages of Dracula chatting with others in jeans and T-shirts, drinks that seemed to not quite empty even when Avery watched people take a sip, odd doors jutting off to the side, and the people. The people. It was the most intensely strange experience of his life, watching them swirl around him. So many of them were just… beautiful. Like model beautiful. Avery had never seen that many beautiful people in one room in his life.

“Do you suddenly feel like you’re in a movie?” Vaughn asked.

“Or an acid trip.”

Across the table, Macy giggled and snuggled her face into Donovan’s neck. Giggled. Macy. It was so unlike her. Macy had always been more sexy and seductive. This ingénue thing she had going on was like watching someone with her face and a completely different personality.

“Here are your drinks, darlings,” their server said. She leaned over and kissed Donovan on the head, then wandered off.

“Do you know her well?” Macy asked.

“Brooke?” Donovan laughed. “Years. We’re like brother and sister.” He said the second thing pointedly and squeezed Macy’s shoulders. Avery had never seen her like that. Usually if a guy paid attention to someone else, she’d just, well, do the same. Donovan seemed to have some kind of pull for her that Avery hadn’t seen before.

Avery took a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him. It was one of the strangest but most intoxicatingly delicious flavors he’d ever had. He couldn’t put a finger on what it reminded him of, but he instinctively wanted more. The drink was nearly black, and it was fruity and tingly at the same time. He took another sip and immediately wanted another as soon as he swallowed.

“What is this thing?” he asked.

Donovan shrugged. “It’s one of Dan’s specialties. He made it up years ago. It’s a bar favorite. Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” Donovan asked.

“Yeah.” There wasn’t much more Avery could say.

He sipped his drink and blatantly stared at the crowd, since he’d gone far past the politely pretending not to look stage. He watched the crowd hanging out near the bar—retro clothes and beautiful faces and….

Holy shit. Avery felt like the goddamn breath was knocked out of his chest. Everyone else just turned into an unimportant blur when he saw him.

He was leaning over the bar, talking to a bartender, and he tipped back his head and laughed. In that moment he was caught in one of the warm pink lights, and he looked like… like an angel. And Avery was completely aware of how stupid that sounded, even in his head, but he couldn’t help thinking it. The guy was tall and lean, ethereal, and so pale he looked like he should be translucent. His hair, flaxen and beautiful, was styled into a bit of a side swipe and glowed just like his skin. Avery couldn’t stop staring. He didn’t even know if he breathed.

“Who’s that?” Vaughn whispered. Vaughn, who as much as Avery knew was completely straight. Apparently it didn’t matter. That kind of beautiful was impossible not to notice.

“I have no idea. Fuck.” Avery must’ve been breathing because he could still talk. A tingle raged down his spine, and his entire body broke out in shivers. He thought about his dreams, about that thing just beyond his reach, and wondered if maybe this was it and he’d finally found it. But Vaughn’s voice broke his increasingly impossible chain of thought and made him turn.

“He looks like a kid, man. He’s gorgeous, but he has to be barely old enough to be in here.”

He looks like everything I’ve ever wanted….

Which was just about the stupidest drunk thought Avery had ever had, including the time he got the outline of Mickey Mouse tattooed on his ass. He’d thought that was a good idea too. But picturing forever with a total stranger at the oddest bar he’d ever been in had to be a hell of a lot stupider than some drunken Disney.

“Avery, you’re still staring. Snap out of it.”

“Right. Wow.” He ripped his gaze off the guy, who seemed to just radiate like the moon, and back to his friend, who was staring at him like he thought there might be something wrong.

“You okay, man?”

“Yeah. I just… I don’t know. I feel like I’ve seen him before.” And he didn’t realize until he said it that he did feel like he’d seen him before, in little flashes and moments when he was asleep, and somewhere else. He was familiar somehow. Avery was too fascinated to be creeped out.

“You have?” Vaughn shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone in this place before. Do they even come from around here?”

Sure, there were a lot of people in the city, but you tended to see faces around—especially since they were faces Avery should have seen, only blocks from his cottage.

“I have no idea. But yeah… he’s familiar.” Change the subject. Avery decided it was better, he was better, if he stopped scaring one of his friends and started talking about something else.

“Tell me about your experiment with Karen.”

“Wait… what?” Vaughn barked out a laugh.

Macy and Donovan had practically melted into the seat across from them, and Avery’s choices were to stare at the blond guy he felt like he’d dreamed of, stare at his best friend sucking some guy’s face down her throat, or yeah. Time to talk about bread mold.

“Sure. Tell me about the experiment.”

“It’s not that exciting. We’ve gotten our mold colonies to multiply at twice the normal rate.”

“Why’s that a good thing?” Avery asked.

“It’s… you know, I don’t really want to talk about mold. Usually, sure, but this is so not the place for it. More like the place to talk about your class.”

“Monsters, Inc.?” Avery said with a smirk.

“You know about that?” Vaughn chuckled.

“If you do, then of course I’ve heard it.” He was pretty proud of how hard it was to get into that class, and he didn’t mind the nickname. Of course they didn’t clamor quite so hard to get into one of his normal classes, but hey, he guessed it went with the territory.

“What are you guys talking about next week in class?”

“Vampires and then my favorite.” Avery shuddered. He’d expressed his revulsion for the local horror story more than once.

Vaughn nodded sympathetically. “Madame LaLaurie?”

Yeah. A very real monster who’d spawned more than her fair share of bump in the night stories.

“Why don’t you just take her out of the curriculum?” Vaughn asked.

“How could I? She’s an absolute legend… of the real and highly embellished variety. That would be like taking out Marie Laveau. They’d riot.”

Vaughn chuckled. He lifted his drink to his mouth and drained the last of it.

“You want another?” Avery asked. “I don’t mind grabbing this round.”

“Sure. I’m not usually a fruity drink guy, but this was amazing.”

 

 

AVERY took their glasses and went to the bar. He waited in line and tried not to stare, but he knew. He knew the guy was near, still talking to the bartender, Dan, just around the corner, but he was there. Avery studied the glasses in his hand, the coat of the person in front of him, and he waited to get to the front of the line.

When he did, he awkwardly asked for two more of… “Umm… what Donovan ordered, please?” Then he waited again while he watched as the bartender started to mix them up. Brooke sidled up to him.

“I can take these over to the table, sweetheart,” she drawled. “You don’t have to stand here.”

Avery was surprised to be spoken to, so he mumbled out a thank-you. Brooke winked flirtatiously, which seemed to be her typical state. He pulled out money, but she shook her head with a tsking noise. “Donovan wouldn’t ever let guests of his pay,” she said. “Don’t be silly.”

Then she shuffled him off toward the table and turned back to the bar to chat with Dan while he mixed the final drink.

Avery walked a few steps before he felt another thump in his belly. He looked up, and there he was, right there. The blond guy was only inches away, with his pale hair glinting, smile so big and open and aimed right at Avery. Holy shit. Avery had that cliché moment where his heart tried to pound its way out of his chest, and then he got all light-headed and hot. He would’ve thought some of the magic would disappear being up close, but no. If anything the man was even prettier. Man? Boy? He hoped desperately he wasn’t the victim of some serious jailbait. He also hoped he wasn’t staring like a creeper.

He was definitely staring like a creeper.

The guy nodded at him and smiled again, like he was acknowledging there was something there. Something between them. Something. That was a word for it. So was force of nature. He nearly tripped on nothing. It was a good thing he didn’t have his and Vaughn’s drinks in his hand.

Avery smiled shakily and nodded back, then kept walking, because he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. He wanted to kick himself.

Damn, damn, damn. He didn’t have much choice other than to walk the rest of the way back to their table and sit down. Go talk to him. Stand up and go talk to him.

“Where are the drinks?”

“Brooke’s on her way with them. I think she had something else on her tray to drop off first.”

Vaughn chuckled. “You sure you’re okay, man?”

“Probably not.”

Avery didn’t think he’d ever be okay again.