From the road, Demeter’s home in Algiers looks like a run-down shack, but as I walk through the quaint, shotgun house tucked away in one of the oldest communities in New Orleans, I’m aware that’s only a front. Much like the disguise of the old woman attempting to blend in among us mere mortals, this house holds way more than meets the eye.

Inside, leather-bound books with titles like Voodoo Queens of Old and Practical Conjuring sit on built-in shelves. Around the books, old pictures of slaves with their heads wrapped in scarves, their faces bold and full of character, peer out at me. Some seem calm while others have wild black eyes. I wonder what their specialties might have been.

“Papa Ute could possess different bodies,” Mariska says as if reading my mind. She steps up beside me and lifts a framed black and white photo of a very dark man. His nostrils are flared, and his expression is so fierce, he reminds me of an angry bull.

Today her hair is wrapped in a high bun with a navy scarf around her head. She’s wearing loop earrings, a brown cami, and a lace skirt. With her cat-eyes, she’s every bit the gypsy granddaughter of one of the most powerful voodoo queens in New Orleans.

“Was he a relative of yours?” We walk slowly down the hall, looking at these mementoes of the past.

“He was married to Auntie Celeste, Yaya’s sister, for a while. Then he went on.”

I’m not sure if she means he died or he moved to another town. It could very well be either.

“Demeter taught you to read palms and tea leaves,” I say, looking at the wall of rosaries. “Are you hiding any other special powers?”

“Gifts, you mean?” Her full lips part over straight white teeth as she smiles. “I have prophetic dreams.”

My eyebrows rise. “Anything about me?”

“Sorry,” she does a little frown. “My dreams so far have only been about me.”

We’re at the back screen door. She pushes it, holding it open as I pass through.

“Selfish girl,” I tease.

“It’s really more frustrating than anything.” She’s right behind me, letting it go with a slam. “I can never figure out what they mean until they’ve already come true.”

The backyard is enchanting. A covered patio is lined with hanging pots overflowing with flowers. A fountain is engulfed at the side of the house in a cluster of white oleander. A large ceiling fan keeps the air moving, while a few steps down, wisteria grows over an arbor. Along the fence, herbs grow wild in beds.

“This is incredible!” My voice is hushed with surprise.

“Yeah,” she smiles, tilting her head to the side. “Everything out here can be used in some way.”

I stop at a thick green vine hanging upside-down from a beam and lift a plump, red tomato. “Even in the kitchen?”

She laughs, “That one’s ready!” She reaches out a smooth, tanned arm full of bracelets and picks it.

“Tell me what everything is!” I say, following her out into the yard.

“Most of it’s pretty basic stuff.” She stops at a hairy looking green plant and twirls a stem in her fingers. “Mugwort is great for prophecy and dreaming.”

“Is that one your favorite?”

“No, my favorite is the lavender.” We walk down a few paces to the tall, woody stems covered in hazy greyish-purple pods. “I love how it smells. It brings calmness and peace.” She pinches off a sprig and sniffs it. “It can even be used for love potions.”

“What are these, daisies?” I’m standing in front of a bunch of happy white flowers with little yellow hearts.

“Here.” She breaks one off and tucks it behind my ear. “Chamomile is very versatile. Wear it in your hair to attract a lover or keep it in your pocket for good luck.”

“I know this one,” I say, bending down to touch a small green plant. “Pennyroyal makes you rich.”

She shakes her head, pointing down the way. “Rosemary will protect you, and sage will summon your spirit guide.”

A breeze sweeps through the vast garden, and I watch the fronds on a weeping willow sway like hair. Live oak trees spread their heavy branches over the back of the yard, just before the tree line becomes dense.

“You have a lot of herbs for protection here,” I note.

“Yaya has worked with a lot of troubled people.”

“That’s one way to put it.” I snap off a stem of round yellow flowers. “It makes me feel safe somehow, being here.”

She doesn’t answer, and we walk a little farther, our feet swishing in the long grass. “Have you ever mixed any of these into potions?”

“Not really,” she says. “I do little things like the vial I gave you, but I’m still in college. Yaya says the only magic I need to worry about is happening between my ears.”

“What’s your degree?”

“Fine Arts.” A bluebird flits down, stopping at the small wooden box high on a metal post. It’s such a small, vibrant thing. We watch it until it flies away. A black and white cat sits very still tracking its movements.

“Their house was lower, on the fence.” She points to an ancient rail fence lining the property. “We had to move it so the cats couldn’t eat them.”

“Oh no!” I laugh. “Cats are such hunters.”

“Some people think they’re spirit guides.”

We come to a small concrete bench tucked in a sweet olive bush. I take a deep breath of the heavy perfume as we sit. “It’s beautiful here.”

We’re looking toward the house. Patrick and Elaine are walking among the flowers, holding hands and talking. He brushes her hair off her shoulder and threads a bright pink apple blossom behind her ear.

Mariska watches me. “How are you feeling around him now?”

I shrug. “I guess being outdoors helps. I don’t feel anything in particular.”

“I’ll make you a lemon verbena tea.”

Looking down, I lift the little vial I’d dropped around my neck before leaving the hotel. It joins the tiny gold heart at the base of my throat. I’m not sure I believe all these talismans, but after what I’ve been through, I’m willing to give anything a chance.

“Didn’t you say verbena root would fight vampire blood?”

“No.” She shakes her head, pressing her palms on the bench beside her. “The shifter blood does the fighting. Verbena just gives it an advantage. It’s a powerful plant.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Hmm…” As she thinks, her shoulders rise. She folds her hands, and I notice a swipe of blue on one of her fingers. She’s a painter. “It used to be called herba sacra, because legend said it stopped Christ’s bleeding on the cross.”

“So it’s a coagulant?”

“It dries up the blood.” Her head tilts, and she grins. “It’s also an aphrodisiac. And it cures kidney stones.”

I grin. “Is it also used for protection?”

“Most likely.” She walks over to a grey tabby cat and squats. The animal bangs its head against her leg, rubbing its whole body down her side. “Wild rose and mountain ash are also useful against vampires.”

“You know so much about these things.”

“I just grew up hearing about them all the time. I’ve never actually met anyone—” Her lip goes between her teeth as if she said too much.

“Anyone what?”

“I just meant… well, anyone like you.”

“Why are you embarrassed?”

Twisting her hands, she takes her seat beside me on the bench. “You’re a hybrid, which means you drank vampire blood. Why would you do that?”

Her question is just above a whisper, and I look down, measuring my response.

“I have my own marketing firm. He was one of my clients.” Putting my feet on the bench, I hug my arms around my knees remembering how normal it all seemed back then. “He was older, distinguished. He knew about fine wine and music.”

“You dated him?”

I rest my chin on the top of my knees. “It wasn’t very professional, getting involved with a client. I guess I thought I was falling in love with him.”

“Were you?”

Images of these last days with Derek fill my mind, and I answer fast. “No.”

She turns to face me. “So why did you do it?”

Lowering my feet I shrug. “He has a presence. It’s hard to explain, but it seems to heighten everything.”

“His glamour.” She nods as if the riddle is solved.

“Maybe,” I say, thinking. “Before the bite, he was the most enthralling thing I’d ever experienced. After, he was repellant to me. I detested him.”

“I see. He forced you.”

I look into her golden-hazel eyes. “How did you know?”

Her expression brightens. “I think you told me? Maybe it was Elaine. Regardless, that makes it so much more cruel.”

“It was very cruel. I ran as far from him as I could. Elaine helped me move back to Wilmington.” With a little shiver as if from a sudden chill, I look up at the overcast sky. “Still he finds me. His voice is with me everywhere.”

Scooting closer, Mariska wraps a slim arm around my shoulders. “You don’t have to run anymore. You’re here; we’re here. You’re safe.”

The word feels more powerful than all these herbal remedies, still I don’t know if I can believe it yet. I only smile and thank her. The afternoon is growing late, and Demeter is waving us in to dinner. I haven’t heard from Derek, and my chest aches with worry.

Automatically, my mind resumes its silent chant. My entire body longs for him. Please come back to me, my love. Please come back…

* * *

Derek

The empty warehouse flickers with shadows. Columns of dust-filled light stream through the space. The large windows above face east, and it won’t be long before it’s completely dark.

Stuart and I are dressed for combat—or at least I am. Stuart’s dressed for shifting in loose cotton pants and a thin white tank. He bends an elbow, and our witch openly admires his muscles.

Star is dressed in black jeans and a white tank. A black leather jacket covers the ink on her arms, and instead of the usual beehive, this evening she wears a black leather cowboy hat.

My partner only distracts her a moment before her attention returns to me, and a smile curves her red lips. “You want me to hypnotize you.”

I’m impatient with games, and I don’t have time for repeating myself. “We need information.”

Taking off her hat, she shakes her straight, dyed-black hair, before removing her jacket as well. “I’m not used to men like you willingly putting themselves in my power.”

“Men like me?”

“Perhaps I should say I’m not used to seeing men like you afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

A thin black eyebrow arches. Sitting here, thinking over what she’s saying and what I’m asking her to do, I revise that.

“Fear isn’t the right word—at least not in the traditional sense. I’m concerned for the safety of another person. I need to find the… Thing that poses a threat to her.”

“The thing?” The witch begins moving around the empty space, first drawing a large, chalk circle on the dark wood floor around us both.

“He’s facing one of our kind.” Stuart’s deep voice cuts through the quiet.

She glances up at him. “Surely you can track another shifter without my help.”

I answer for my partner. “We’re not after a shifter. We’re after a vampire. I’ve got its blood in my veins. I want to try and track him through me.”

Silence fills the room, and Star’s lips press into a thin line. She doesn’t speak as she continues making a large pentagram inside the circle on the floor, and I step away to avoid blocking her progress. Without a word, she goes to an armoire hidden in the back corner.

She returns with two white pillar candles, each about a foot in height. “So you’re hunting a vampire, and you’ve somehow taken its blood.”

I watch as she places the candles at two points and returns to the armoire for three more.

“You realize what could happen, I’m sure.” She finishes arranging the candles, and the explosion of a match illuminates her face with yellow light.

“He knows what could happen.” Stuart is impatient. I’m a bit impatient as well, because while I know Melissa is hidden, I don’t know when the vampire might find her.

Her black eyes flash at him. “I want to hear him say what he knows.”

“We don’t have time for this,” I growl. “I know what can happen if I’m killed with vampire blood in my veins.”

“Fastest route to immortality I know of.” Her voice is wry.

Candles lit, she places a chair in the center of the pentagram. Her slim, ink-covered arms are bare. One hand on her hip, she gestures to the chair. “Let’s get started.”

Putting myself in the power of a witch is not the smartest thing I’ve ever done. If I hadn’t encountered that thing in the street, the idea would never have entered my mind, but the truth is, Star is right. I’m afraid. Melissa’s maker is powerful. He wants her back, and the existence of me is infuriating to him. I’ve got to find him before he finds her.

“I need you to focus now.” Star’s voice has become monotone, slow and rhythmic. “May I call you Derek?”

“Yes.” My insides are tense, but I know to relax, let it happen. I have to let go of my control.

“How well do you know the city, Derek?”

“I grew up here. I can walk it in my sleep.”

“Speaking of sleep, let’s name the streets starting at the river and working toward midtown. I’ll start. Decatur… Chartres… Royal…”

My mind relaxes as we mentally walk the blocks, and I begin speaking with her. “Bourbon… Dauphine…”

“That’s right,” her voice soothes. “When we reach Rampart, you’ll be asleep. “Burgundy… Rampart…”

Darkness.

I don’t need light to see in the dark. I don’t need heat. I do need shelter.

My room is classic New Orleans. Washed brick walls with wood and beam ceilings. A curved, leather headboard adorns a large bed that won’t be used. To my right is a green velvet settee. A mahogany desk is situated in a corner. Thick, silk curtains hang over square windows overlooking a brick courtyard. Dozens of staircases and balconies with white bannisters.

None of it matters. The only thing that matters is finding her, finishing her transformation. Pacing, I focus my thoughts straight out toward the river like a radar gun. I slowly turn toward the west, toward the French Market… Toulouse, Wilkinson, Jackson Square… Something flickers, but it’s too far off to be her.

She said she’s here on a girls’ weekend. She came here with Elaine. Elaine would want to shop, dine out, and possibly have drinks. I continue my arc, focusing my attention toward the north, Chartres to Bourbon Street…. Nothing.

Where are you? My voice is a furious hiss. You can’t run from me.

The rage in my chest bubbles like a cauldron. You’ve been naughty. You’ve taken a lover. You’ve drunk his blood without killing him.

Jealousy consumes my thoughts. All my vampire emotions focus on reclaiming what belongs to me then punishing her for running away.

Another turn and I’ve made the sweep to Canal, searching all the expensive stores and boutiques on that wide thoroughfare where sprawling palm trees fill the medians.

An infuriated growl roars from my chest. My fingertips graze a leather-bound book, and I throw it with all my strength against the opposite wall.

WHAM!

A black dent is left, and the book disintegrates into sheets. It’s only a fleeting satisfaction.

She will suffer for this. She will cry. She will thirst, and I won’t let her drink. I will relish her screams.

“Human hunger is a pitiful sight, but a starving vampire is abhorrent.” Yes, our predecessors had uniquely clever ways for handling insubordination among our kind. Their devices of torture are like art. My studies have put them all at my fingertips.

In my mind’s eye, I see a narrow box with heavy black locks all around the edges. It’s long enough to fit a human, but so narrow the one trapped inside is unable to move.

I see her locked in the box, flat on her back, unable to move right or left. I see the tomb where I’ll keep her. I hear her screams, hear the slap of her palms against the wood as she begs to be let out. I see her clawing faster and faster, until her nails pop off, until she’s consumed with panic…

Until she’s broken.

Anticipation of that day hastens my search, moving my sight toward the river, toward Magazine, Tchoupitoulas, South Peters, to…

The skin on my neck crawls. WHAT THE FUCK?

Fury explodes through me—an inferno of wrath, and in that moment my mind splits. I’m in the small hotel room searching, yet I see myself sitting in a chair in a dark warehouse, posture straight like a good little soldier.

How the FUCK did you get in my mind, little soldier?

Cold voice to match cold eyes. A pale face twists into a hideous grin. Still, the precise features are blurred.

Why can’t I see your face? I ask, low and quiet.

Because I won’t let you, little soldier. HOW did you get in MY MIND?!

Rage unfurls in my human chest, but Star’s power holds me in check. Still, I’m able to respond, and it’s almost more threatening because of my control.

It’s Marine, motherfucker. You’d better prepare, because I’m coming for you.

Laughter like the clanging of a metal crate echoes in my head. Where will you go, little soldier? Tell me where I am.

Focusing harder, I try to see through his eyes again. I try to see the room, the notepad on the nightstand, but he’s stronger than me. I don’t have enough of his blood. All I see is myself in the hypnotized state. Now that he’s found me, he won’t let me see anything else.

I have to come out. I have to detach from his mind. Moving my hands, I signal Stuart. The demon’s cackle is in my head as the vision slowly recedes.

“… coming back to me here,” Star’s voice is softly saying. “When I touch your hand, you’ll wake up and no longer be in a hypnotic state, no longer under my power.”

The touch of her cool fingers, and my eyes snap open. Jumping out of the chair, I pace the now-dark warehouse room. My pulse races, and I’m trying to catch my breath. I’m trying to lose the feeling of his reptilian claws on my thoughts, holding my eyes focused on myself sitting in the chair.

Neither Stuart nor Star approaches me. They only watch as I breathe deeply, close my eyes, bring myself down. I need to think. I need to analyze what I’ve learned. I have to find him.

His plans for punishing Melissa enrage me. He will not do that to her. She will not be locked away in a box, left in a dark tomb to starve until she breaks.

He’s going to complete her change then torture her until she’s completely subservient to him. The young vampire mind is so intense. It’s like a child’s. They’re easily consumed by emotions, and the idea that suffering will end is easy to forget.

He will not do that to her. I’ll kill him first.

“What did you see?” Stuart’s voice breaks me from my racing thoughts.

“He’s searching for her, scanning every shop, restaurant, street.” I’m still moving, trying to remember all he said.

“Could you get an idea of where he’s staying?”

Stopping at the exposed-brick wall, I put my hand against it and breathe deeply. “He’s in a small room overlooking a courtyard. Every floor has a balcony with white railings. Stairs going up and down.”

Star is still sitting in the pentagram watching me intently. “That could be any number of places,” she says.

“He looked toward the French Market, starting at Toulouse.”

Stuart crosses the room to me. “And when he circled up?”

Straining, I try to remember what he said. “I think the first street was Chartres.”

“Corner of Toulouse and Chartres.” He orders the witch, who jumps to her feet and dashes to a MacBook sitting on a metal desk. She’s hastily clicking as I’m remembering all his threats.

“French Market Inn,” she says. “Can’t be anywhere else. Look at this.”

She turns the slim device in our direction, and I see an image of a redbrick courtyard and dozens of white-railed balconies.

Stuart’s hazel eyes light on me. “What now, brother?”

Passing my hand over my mouth, I consider what we’re facing. “I’d feel better if we had Patrick with us.”

“This one is strong. I can tell by the way he has you so worked up.” He walks over to the desk and looks at the screen for several seconds. “Did you get any sense he might be setting a trap, luring you away so she’s unprotected?”

“Not at first,” I say, remembering his plans. “He’s very focused on finding her. But now that he knows I’m tracking him, it’s possible.”

Stuart nods gravely. “Then Patrick remains on guard duty. We’ll have to go it alone.”

“I can help.” Star’s eyes light. “I could be a lookout. Or I can distract him.”

“Not happening.” Stuart shakes his head.

His dismissal angers her. “I’m strong enough to find the information you need, but not strong enough to help? Your brother wouldn’t be so dismissive of me.”

“I’m not my brother.”

I step in. “How would you help us?”

Stuart glares at me briefly, but I’m not about to turn down the assistance of a powerful witch in this situation. We need all the help we can get.

“Vampires are attracted to pretty things…” She’s speaking slowly, thinking as she goes. “He has to feed… You say you have his blood in you?”

Nodding quietly, I watch her lift a heavy book onto the metal table and quickly turn the pages. “I have a recipe for blood bread. I’ll need some of your blood—his blood—to mix in the dough for me to eat.”

“We don’t have time to bake bread,” Stuart is texting Patrick.

Star narrows her eyes at him, and I step between them. “What else can we do?”

“Black tourmaline will protect me.” Her gaze flickers to me. “I have verbena root serum I can drink. If he bites me, it will weaken him.”

“That’s what we need.” Nodding I signal to Stuart and go to the door. “Meet us at the bar in Chartres House. One hour.”

“Chartres House?” Her brow furrows. “It’s only a block from the inn. Is that wise?”

“We don’t have time to waste.” Signaling my partner, we head for the door. “We’re not going to get another chance like this one.”