Chapter Twenty-Seven
New Orleans
Simon checked the windows of the Decatur Street condo for the tenth time since arriving in the middle of the night. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Svetlana knew of their arrival long before they’d entered the city limits of New Orleans.
He could see Madison’s reflection in the glass of the window he stared out. Damn her for insisting on coming along and damn him for allowing it.
“She has a right to be here,” Vlad murmured, coming to stand next to Simon. “I would have done the same in her position.”
Simon continued to watch her in the glass, the way her hands moved when she spoke to Shon Wells. Though her speech sounded relaxed and friendly, her body language told a different story. She was poised for a fight.
Vlad grew quiet for a moment before stepping in closer. “Can you feel that?”
Simon merely nodded, knowing that Vlad would pick up on the gesture.
“The presence of the warlocks,” Vlad continued. “More than a dozen.”
Simon turned his head to study Vlad’s profile. “Madison’s not strong enough to withstand that kind of power.”
“She’s stronger than you realize.”
Was she? Simon directed his gaze back to Madison’s reflection in the glass. She looked so soft and feminine. Of course, that meant very little where the redhead was concerned. Simon had seen her in action on more than one occasion. She’d even unloaded an entire round of silver bullets into him without batting an eye. “I hope you’re right.”
Vlad reached up and clasped Simon on the shoulder. “We need to feed before the sun comes up. I suggest we hunt close together, else young Shon will have the local law enforcement after us as well as the warlocks.”
Simon’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “I find it difficult not to like the fledgling.”
“Yes,” Vlad agreed, humor sparking in his own eyes. “I’ve grown rather fond of him, myself.”
Breaking away from his window watching, Simon moved to the center of the room, stopping next to Madison’s side. “We need to feed.”
Her expression changed from relaxed to tense, but she didn’t argue, and for that, Simon was grateful.
Simon took hold of her hand and led her to the foyer. He waited for the others to join them and then opened door and stepped out onto the busy Decatur Street.
“We’re not killing anyone, are we?”
Though Madison had barely whispered the question, Simon had no trouble hearing her over the chaotic droves of people scurrying about. “We do not have to take lives to feed.”
Her relived sigh wasn’t lost on him.
They approached an alleyway, blocked off by a double wooden gate. The two gates were held together with a thick chain sporting an equally thick padlock.
Simon glanced behind him to be sure no one watched and then severed the lock with barely a flick of his wrist. He pulled the chain free, tossed it aside, and slipped inconspicuously through the gate.
Madison quickly joined him. “What are we doing back here?”
“I’ll show you.” Simon blurred his way to a dumpster to find a homeless man sleeping beneath an old, tattered blanket.
He pushed into the man’s mind, forcing him into a deeper sleep before dropping to his haunches next to him.
Madison recoiled. “Surely you’re not going to—”
“Eat?” Simon interrupted, cutting off the rest of her words. “I am. Though his skin is filthy, he bleeds red the same as every other man, woman, and child walking these streets.”
Obviously offended by his remark, Madison’s hand flew to her hip. “It wasn’t his skin I was referring to, asshole. It was the fact that he’s obviously lost everything. I’m sure he’s had it hard enough without us coming along and taking something else from him as well.”
Simon lifted the sleeping man’s arm, wiped his wrist clean of dirt and sank his fangs deep. He fed from the man until he’d taken his fill and then pulled a wad of cash from his pants pocket and stuffed it into the man’s palm. He re-covered him with the tattered blanket.
Madison’s eyes were luminous in the moonlight. “Was that money you gave him?”
Rising to his full height, Simon answered her with sarcasm. “No. It was a cheese wrapper.”
If eyes could shoot actual daggers, Simon would be dead right then. “Why must you make snide remarks about everything I say?”
“Now who’s the pot calling the kettle black?”
Shon suddenly appeared, his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. “I hear loitering is highly frowned upon in Louisiana. Are y’all going to feed or stand out here and argue about it?”
Simon almost laughed. “Where are the others?”
“Already back at the condo.”
With a nod to Shon, Simon took hold of Madison’s hand. He spoke over his shoulder as they moved deeper into the alley. “We’ll be right there.”
Shon didn’t respond, though he didn’t need to. Simon was more than aware of the fledgling’s hearing ability.
The back door to one of the establishments opened, spilling light into the alley.
Simon lifted his finger to his lips, quickly pulling Madison into the shadows behind a row of trashcans.
A middle-aged woman stepped out wearing a hairnet and a dingy-white apron. She walked a few feet away from the door, pulled a pack of cigarettes from her pants pocket, and commenced to lighting one up.
Simon waited a heartbeat to be sure that no one else followed and then pushed into the woman’s mind.
Her arms fell limply at his sides.
“Let’s go,” Simon informed Madison, stepping from behind the trashcans. “This one is all yours.”
Madison sighed hard enough to part his hair. “Lucky me.”