La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust (10 page)

Slade looked shocked. "Whoa, there's no need
to get the cops involved. We can take care of this internally. You
don't want pigs nosing around here, getting into private
matters."

"I want to find this asshole and punish
him."

"I know. Me too. And we will. But the less
the authorities know about us the better. Besides, no one needs to
go to jail for this shit. What if it was an accident?"

"Doesn't matter."

"But the Community..."

"We still have responsibilities. We're not
above the law."

"There are some inherent risks, but-"

"Jesus Christ, Slade, we're not talking about
snow boarding here. Anyone should have taken one look at Eve and
known she was not capable of donating. That they took from her in
that state merely demonstrates a complete lack of respect for human
life. And the fact that it was probably one of us and not some
douche off the street," Armand shook his head furiously. "That just
makes it worse."

"Eve was begging to be someone's victim,
Armand, and you know it," Slade said as Armand lapped the room a
few more times. "That's a hard temptation for some to resist."

Armand jerked to a stop. "Then there's
something seriously fucking wrong with this
Community
. I
don't give a shit if she
was
begging for it. You don't drain
people dry, no more than you shove them off a cliff. Fuck this
shit. I'm done."

Slade was taken aback. "What do you
mean?"

"With
Luxure
, the Community in
general. I'm tired of dealing with Victims, tired of feeling guilty
when another one dies. Eve was what, the 3rd in two years?"

"You can't protect everyone," Slade soothed.
"There will always be Victims. And without
Luxure
, there
could be even more. You provide a valuable service to the
Community."

Armand snorted. "I used to think so. I don't
know anymore."

"Well, I do. I can't imagine what I would've
done if I hadn't found you. You remember what I was like
before?"

He did. Slade had been skinny and sickly and
spent more time in the hospital than out. He looked nothing like
the bundle of muscles he was now. "I remember." Armand rubbed his
forehead wearily. "Maybe I just need a break."

"Take the night off."

"Not tonight. I want to talk to people."

"Tomorrow night then. You can go to the
parade."

Armand had forgotten, but there was a
Halloween parade tomorrow. He loved parades. The energy at them was
practically a narcotic it was so potent.

"It'll be busy, but Onyx and Bliss will be
here," Slade continued. "I'll call Locke and see if he wants to
help me bounce. If you don't get any leads about Eve tonight, we
can probe more tomorrow. Something'll turn up and then, we take
care of it. No pigs necessary."

The promise of a day off was soothing. The
bar would be taken care of so there was no reason not to. Besides,
there were a few other Community hot spots in the Quarter his
responsibilities at
Luxure
rarely let him patronize. If no
one at
Luxure
had any information about Eve, there were
other places to look.

"That's not a bad idea. I think I will."
Armand took as deep a breath his tight chest would allow, and let
it and all of his pent up negative energy out in a rush.

Some time away was exactly what he
needed.

"Um, so what are you going to do about your
little vanilla princess?"

Armand's aggression returned with a
vengeance, burning its way from his stomach and rushing into his
skull. His eyes became mere slits. "What do you mean?"

"She saw you leave with Eve. You don't think
she'll go to the police?"

Was that why Julia had been so wary of him
when he'd met her in the cemetery? Of course she'd be suspicious,
how could she be anything but? No wonder she looked ready to bolt
when he snuck up on her.

"If she does, I have nothing to hide."

Slade gave him an unbelieving look.
"Nothing?"

"Nothing pertaining to Eve." Thinking of his
afternoon encounter with Julia eased his temper a little, until the
memory of Dave's Ken doll face greeted him, and Julia's rejection
sucker punched him. Armand set his jaw, tension working the cords
in his neck. Fuck, he desperately needed to work off some built-up
aggression.

Slipping off his sweater, Armand grabbed a
few weights and shoved them on the bench press bar. "I'm not
interested in discussing this any more. Spot me, or get the fuck
out."

Slade shrugged, moving into position. "Sure
thing, boss."

* * *

Marguerite smoothed her dress for the
hundredth time that evening. It was a nervous habit, she knew, and
she was trying to subdue it. But as Henry was telling her about his
trip to New York the previous spring, all she could think about was
retreating to the privacy and solace of her bedroom.

It was time she came out from mourning, even
if she didn't feel ready. Being cooped up in her bedroom with
nothing but books and the company of Aunt Bernice's cat wasn't
healthy and she knew it.

So, she smiled appropriately during Henry's
story and asked polite questions, but was grateful when he finally
excused himself. She desperately needed a glass of wine.

Would anyone notice if she got drunk? Would
they care?

Marguerite motioned for a servant, and as
she retrieved the glass of golden liquid, she noticed a strange man
standing in the corner. He was tall and slender, with luminescent
white skin and dark, shoulder length hair. His perfect jaw was
completely free from hair and framed the most scrumptious male
mouth. His most striking features though, were his eyes. They were
a startling blue and fixated on Marguerite with such an intensity
that her pulse quickened, and heat shot through her limbs.

He grinned when she caught his gaze,
flashing the whitest, longest canine teeth she'd ever seen.

Quickly, Marguerite looked away. It was rude
to stare, but...she glanced back to where he stood and was
disappointed to find he was gone. When she turned back, he stood
right before her.

She gasped. He'd moved so quickly...

The stranger inclined his head. "I'm afraid
we haven't met yet. Blaise Carmichael," he said by way of
introduction. His voice was low and seductive and sent shivers down
her spine.

Frustrated, Julia tossed her book on the
nightstand, resisting the urge to chuck it across the room. Jesus,
the thing was reading like a playback of the last several days.
There wasn't a scene that didn't remind her of Armand and it wasn't
like she needed encouragement. His gorgeous face and hazel eyes
were permanently burned into her retinas as it was.

She thought about calling her sister, but
wasn't sure what to say. With any amount of persuasion, Julia would
easily spill every strange detail from the last 24 hours and she
wasn't ready to discuss all the craziness with Clare, not yet.

Normally, they spoke on the phone everyday,
no matter what. This would be the first time in many years that
they did not.

With a sigh, Julia clicked on the TV. But the
laugh track couldn't drown out the sound of Armand's perfect drawl
ringing in her memory, and fifteen minutes into the crappy sit-com,
she picked her book back up. She quickly sped through a few
chapters, ignoring her phone when it buzzed on the nightstand.

Staring out the window, Marguerite focused
her red, swollen eyes on the Spanish moss as it waved delicately in
the afternoon breeze. Dead. She couldn't believe Henry was
dead.

She wiped at the fresh, salty tear that
escaped her exhausted eyes. Flashes of the ruined carcasses that
used to be her family sped through her mind, and she clamped her
eyes shut against them, willing her mind to visualize something
more pleasant. Henry's smiling, eager face greeted her, and more
tears slid down her cheeks.

Marguerite fell on the bed and let the raw
emotions wash over her anew.

Dearest Lord, why did everyone in her life
end up dead? And why did their deaths have to be so gruesome? First
a savage fire and then an animal attack. Poor, poor Henry. What God
would create a horrid beast that would rip out a man's throat, and
then drink every last drop of blood in his veins?

It made her wonder if there was a God at
all
.

"Ugghh." That was all Julia could take. The
book landed on the nightstand with a thud as she hefted herself
upright.

Ridiculous. This was all so fucking
ridiculous.
Henry
was Eve and
Blaise
was Armand and
Julia was caught up in some twisted, alternate universe
fantasy.

Pacing to the window, she peered down into
the brick courtyard. The fountain gurgled happily and the pool
glimmered in the moonlight. Through French doors, Julia could just
make out the corner of a large, mahogany bar and the white shirt of
the bartender behind it.

If neither her book nor TV were suitably
distracting, maybe a glass of wine would do the trick. Grabbing her
purse and slipping into her heels, Julia decided to worry about the
overtime her liver was doing once she returned to Alton. She didn't
normally drink so frequently. But this was New Orleans, her liver
could work a few extra hours while she was here.

Warm and inviting, the hotel bar had dark
walnut trim and deep red walls covered with oil paintings depicting
slightly abstract scenes from the French Quarter. Besides the tan,
50-something bartender with over processed, bleached blond 80's
hair, the bar was empty. She smiled as Julia stepped up to the
solid wood bar.

"Hey girl. How're you doin' tonight?" The
woman asked in a heavy southern accent, one that was thicker and
twangier than Armand's controlled, Brooklyn-esque drawl, and raspy
from years of smoking.

"Good, thank you," Julia said as she eased
onto the padded barstool.

"What can I get for ya?"

"Do you have any wine back there," Julia
glanced at the nametag pinned to the bartender's white shirt,
"Cindi?" The 'i's had hearts instead of dots.

"Sure do." Cindi spun on her heels and
grabbed a couple small bottles from a low shelf at the back of the
bar. She held them up. "Chardonnay or Merlot?"

The single serving wines were not Julia's
favorites, but unless she wanted to drop in at
Luxure
and
have some more of that amazing Pinot Noir (tempting but probably a
bad idea), she had no business being picky. "The Merlot is perfect,
thank you."

Cindi pulled out a wine glass and unscrewed
the wine bottle. "So what brings you to N'Orleans?" she asked as
she poured the burgundy liquid into the glass.

"Work conference. I'm here for the week."

"Did'ya just get here?"

"No. I got in on Sunday."

Cindi slid the glass to Julia. "Havin' a good
time?"

Julia took a sip of the wine. It was better
than she expected and definitely hit the spot. "Um..." She
swallowed an oversized gulp and had to clear her throat to keep
from coughing. "Yeah, I am."

Cindi laughed. "That didn't sound very
convincing."

Julia didn't think she was that transparent.
She was having a good time, or trying to. "No I really have. It's
just, well, there's been a lot of strange things happening."

Cindi laughed again. Her laugh was husky but
inviting. "Girl, you don't know the half of it. I started workin'
down here about 10 years ago, and I've never seen so much crazy
shit."

Julia hadn't come down to socialize, but
Cindi's easy demeanor changed her mind. "Like what?"

"Shit, ghosts, crazy voodoo stuff,
vampires..."

That definitely peaked Julia's interest.
"Vampires? Really?

"There's a whole freakin' clan of them down
here. You know that girl that was found dead this morning?"

"The one that was drained of blood? Yeah,
it's got me a little spooked."

"Well, she's like the third one they've found
like that in the last two years."

Third, like in three? That didn't help ease
Julia's mind. At all. "Wow. Really?" Didn't the NOPD suspect a
serial killer or something? The paper had been so blasé about
it.

"Ah, don't let it scare ya, girl. Most of the
ones they find dead like that are obviously into some freaky stuff.
You don't have anything to worry 'bout."

Because nice, normal girls didn't go for
vampires or patronize their bars. Where did that put Julia? She
wasn't sure anymore. She never had been.

"So, do you believe in vampires?"

"Well I can't say for sure, but it wouldn't
surprise me. Like I said earlier, I seen the craziest shit since I
started workin' down here. And I know there's a bar where they all
hang out over by the cathedral somewhere."

"I think I stumbled into it last night."

Julia did want to talk to someone about
Armand and
La Luxure
. Cindi was easy to chat with, but more
importantly, unlike Clare, she was a neutral spectator and already
believed in vampires.

"Shit. You did?"

Julia nodded. "I mean, if there was a bar for
vampires this was it."

"What was it like?"

"Kinda what you'd expect, I guess. The people
were all gorgeous and slinky and the music was dark and sexy. The
bartender was kind of an asshole, but I actually had a pretty good
time, and I met this guy-"

"Oh girl! You met a vampire? No wonder you're
spooked."

"Well, I can't say for sure he's a vampire,"
Julia said with an awkward chuckle. "I mean, I don't know that I
even believe in vampires."

"But you can't say for sure that he
isn't."

No. She couldn't. "It's so ridiculous..."

"Not in New Orleans. I told you, if it's
crazy, it's in the Quarter." Cindi winked. "So, what's this guy
like? Is he cute?"