La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust (11 page)

Julia twirled the wine in her glass before
taking a drink. She wasn't trying to release any bouquets or
anything, but it gave her something to do with her hands.

"Absolutely, completely, drool worthy," she
said.

"What's he look like?"

"Tall and built, with a few tattoos and some
piercings. He's got longish brown hair that's a little curly, and
he's pale, of course, with these sexy, full lips and gorgeous,
hazel eyes." The image of Armand standing in the cemetery flashed
in her mind, wool coat hugging his broad shoulders. With perfect
clarity she saw him watching her with his multicolored gaze, a lazy
smile on those perfectly kissable lips, his fangs just peeking out
at the corners. "Mmmmmph," she finished, shaking off a shudder and
clamping her legs against the moist warmth pooling at her core.

Cindi laughed. "Oh, girl, you better be
careful. He does sound delicious." Her black liquid lined eyes grew
serious and they landed on Julia with concerned intensity. "But do
you think he's dangerous?"

Did she? There was certainly an air of danger
about Armand. But Julia couldn't tell if it was a suck every ounce
of fluid from your body until you're nothing but a pale shell of a
woman danger, or a break your heart danger. She wanted to think it
was the latter. "I don't know," she answered instead. "I mean, he's
never done anything to indicate he would hurt me." And he hadn't.
Besides some weird quirks, scary long teeth, and Julia's
over-active imagination, Armand hadn't given her a reason to fear
him. But just because he hadn't killed Eve didn't make him safe.
After all, Eve was the third blood-drained murder victim. That
meant there'd been two others.

"Well, just trust your instincts. I once fell
in love with this gorgeous biker. Tall like your boy, long blond
hair, tattoos. He'd just gotten out of prison for killin' a man in
a bar fight, but I wasn't fazed. And the first time he laid his
hands on me, my gut told me to get the hell out, but I didn't
listen. Two years and many broken bones later, I finally left him,
but it wasn't easy."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Hey, just remember that when you're hooking
up with this guy. If any time your inside voice is telling you to
run, listen to it. I love a bad boy too, but a pretty girl like
you's got to be careful. There's no shortage of men, sweetheart.
Never forget that."

Julia smiled and sipped her wine. Maybe there
wasn't a shortage of available men, but there definitely seemed to
be a shortage of interesting ones.

As a yawn slipped out of her mouth, Julia
struggled to cover it. The wine was working its magic. "Hey Cindi,
can I get my tab?" she asked just as two, twenty-something guys
that looked like they just stepped out of the frat-house walked
in.

"Hey boys? How's it going?" Cindi called as
she set a few napkins down. "Don't worry about it," she said to
Julia in a quiet voice. "I think you're covered." She jerked her
chin at the
visors
and tossed a quick wink at Julia. "What
drinks can I fill ya up with?" she said loudly, and Julia took the
opportunity to slip from the bar.

Regardless of who ended up paying, she went
ahead and tossed a ten on the bar and headed through the French
doors to the courtyard. She responded to the, "Hey, don't run off!"
comment from one of the men with a simple "Good-night", and ignored
the responses that followed. Her pillow was calling, and she had
enough to think about without dwelling on a few juvenile
comments.

Chapter Seven

Smoke from a fog machine hung like thick mist
over
Luxure's
dance floor, casting shrouds of white over
undulating dancers. Julia lounged on one of the luxurious black
sofas that bordered the room, her head swimming in a languid, red
sea.

A strobe light blinked, making the dancers'
smooth movements broken and stilted. From across the room, she
watched as Armand came towards her. Even in the flashing pulses of
light, his stride was sensual, graceful. He stopped in front of her
and she tried to rise.

"Don't," he said. "I want you seated."

It was probably best, since her legs were too
heavy to lift her body. Instead she leaned forward, captivated by
the bulge of his cock as it strained against his tight leather
pants. With a mischievous grin, she glanced up at him in
question.

"You may," he said.

Eagerly, she reached her hand forward and
palmed the firm length of his cock. Even through the thick leather,
she could feel it throb, begging to be released. Armand's guttural
moan was deep in his throat, sounding almost like a growl. He
rocked his hips against her hand as she stroked him through his
pants.

When she moved to undo the button, he pulled
away. "Not just yet. You must have patience."

"But I'm wet with impatience," she pouted,
rolling her hips on the couch as her core pulsed in hungry
anticipation.

His lips parted in the tiniest of smiles. "I
know. I can smell you."

Slowly, he lowered to his knees. She parted
her legs for him as he inched up the skirt of her silky red dress.
"These," he breathed, hooking his fingers under the edge of her
panties, "have to go." With a quick tug, he tore the fabric
free.

She gasped as the cool air hit her overheated
loins. Pushing her hips towards the edge of the couch and her knees
further apart, she eagerly waited for whatever was coming next.

The sexual energy in the room had grown
exponentially, and it wasn't only coming from Julia and Armand. It
oozed from the other vampires as they gathered in a semi-circle:
watching, grinding, waiting. Spreading through the bar, it mixed
with the fog, creating a thick blanket of lust and desire.

Julia couldn't be bothered to care if a dozen
or a hundred people watched. She focused her eyes on Armand. With a
devilish smirk, he shoved her legs as far apart as they would go.
Slowly his mouth opened and a long, thick tongue rolled out. He
dove for her, thrusting his tongue into her until she was
completely filled.

She came immediately, the pleasure waves
peaking and then never quite dying as he slowly fucked her with his
tongue. He had her pressed firmly into the back of the sofa, the
muscles of her inner thighs stretching and straining as he pushed
against her knees. She rode the orgasm as long as she could,
rocking her hips with the endless surge of electricity that
convulsed through her body.

Once, she managed to crack open an eye. The
dancing in the bar had turned to fucking. The 1940's pin-up girl
stood in a black velvet dress, her pert breasts exposed while one
man devoured her neck, and another was on his knees before her. The
giant bartender was bending an onyx haired girl over the bar. A
slim, androgynous man was getting his dick sucked by a similarly
androgynous man. The bar was thick with sex and even if Julia
wanted to take more of it in, she couldn't as Armand's huge tongue
caressed her G-spot and she came again.

She was panting when he finally slid his
tongue from her. Releasing her legs, he rose slowly, the tongue
retracting until it resumed normal size. "Now," he said as he
unzipped his pants and freed his cock. Taking a handful of hair, he
jerked her head back, exposing her neck. "It's my turn." Sinking
his teeth and cock into her at the same time, the room exploded
with blinding light as every nerve in her body was electrified.

* * *

Lying in a pool of sweat, Julia awoke with a
start. Her body was on fire, perspiration oozing from every pore.
"Jesus," she muttered, shoving the comforter aside and crawling out
of bed. She had to get these fantasies under control. Not only were
they cluttering her mind with their ridiculousness, they certainly
weren't helping ease her sexual frustration.

She padded to the bathroom, splashed water on
her overheated face, and then wiped down her skin with a cool, damp
washcloth. She stared at her image in the mirror for a long time.
What was wrong with her? Instead of being terrified of Armand like
any sane person, she was dreaming about vampire sex and running
around like a horny teenage boy. Why was she so obsessed with him
and the strange world he lived in? Why couldn't she just go to the
police like a normal person, do her civic duty in assisting the
authorities with finding Melissa Schwartz's killer, and move
on?

Julia sighed. There was no point trying to
decipher all the strange things she did right now. It was late and
she was exhausted. After drinking a large glass of water, she
headed back to bed and climbed onto the dry side.

Clamping her eyes shut, Julia tried to push
every sexual impulse deep into her loins where they belonged, and
concentrate on falling back asleep. It was an impossible task. She
tossed and turned for the rest of the night, unable to turn her
brain off. Every weird encounter she'd had in the last few days
kept replaying in her mind. From the tarot reading and bartender
Cindi's stories, to
Luxure
and Eve, to her encounter with
Armand in the cemetery and then at the café, to the way dread-guy
filled her with trepidation; the memories were relentless as they
pitted fantasy against reality.

She needed to know the truth, needed to know
if she was crazy or if there really was something out there that
was more than human. She wouldn't be able to rest until her
questions were answered.

* * *

Fighting her way through fatigue and the
monotony of the morning speakers, Julia was the first one to pick
up her notes and jet out of the conference hall. She'd deliberately
sat near the exit so she could make a quick escape at lunch.

Dave caught her just as she was about to
sneak out of the hotel lobby. "How are you feeling?" he wondered as
he jogged up to her.

She clutched her stomach in an automated
response. "Better. Thanks."

"Do you want to get some lunch?"

"I'd love to, but I've got to run some
errands." The look on his face told her he knew she was blowing him
off. Again.

God, she hated being so rude. Didn't she tell
herself yesterday when she'd blown him off the second time that
she'd try to be more social? So he'd been weird about Armand. She
couldn't really expect anything different from him. Generally
speaking, engineers were conservative by nature. Every guy she
worked with in Alton would have regarded Armand the same way Dave
had, and she would've shrugged it off. Why should Dave be any
different?

And wasn't she the one freaking out about
Armand's humanity and questioning whether or not he was safe? Pots
could not call kettles black.

Rude or not, she desperately needed to get
down to the Square. There were too many unanswered questions that
she was pretty sure a certain fortune teller had the answers to.
There was no reason to be a complete bitch though.

"I'm going to the parade tonight," she told
him. "Why don't you and Mike and Beth join me?"

That perked him up. "There's a parade?"

"Yeah, a Halloween parade. The route isn't
far from here."

"That sounds fun. Do you want to get dinner
first?"

Actually, she just wanted to grab a piece of
pizza and chill in her room for a while. "Unfortunately, I've got
an obligatory check-in call with my sister that's bound to take at
least an hour." That wasn't a complete lie. She
was
planning
on calling Clare. "The parade starts at 7:30. Why don't we hook up
for drinks first?"

"Sure. Want to meet at Pat O'Brien's?"

Julia clutched at her stomach again, this
time with a grimace. "Um..."

"No more Hurricane's for you, eh?"

She gave him a half-cocked smile. "If I never
have another Hurricane I will die a happy woman."

Dave laughed. "Well, okay then. Hmmm," he
tapped his freshly shaven chin. "How does the Absinthe Tavern suit
you?"

"Perfect. I've always wanted to try
Absinthe."

"Great. See you at 6?"

"Sounds good," she said as she headed for the
door. "See you then."

It was warmer today than it had been since
she arrived in New Orleans. So much so, that even though she'd
draped her coat across her arm, she was sweating under her long
sleeve shirt as she briskly walked towards the Square. Maybe it was
just the humidity. The air was so thick with moisture that even the
breeze was stifled.

The Square was bustling with activity.
Paintings hung in colorful rows on the wrought iron fence
surrounding the central park, and dozens of tables with fortune
tellers and caricature artists crowded the stone streets. A brass
band played upbeat jazz tunes at the foot of the cathedral. Even in
the clutter, she immediately spotted the Rom.

And he her. Their eyes met for one brief
second before he turned and started walking in the opposite
direction.

What a bunch of bullshit. Shaking her head,
Julia jogged after him, weaving through the crowd, dodging children
and people snapping endless pictures of the iconic church.

"Wait," she called when she was barely 10ft
behind him. He didn't slow, and Julia was pretty sure he even
kicked his stride up a notch. Well, two could play that game.
Lengthening her jog into a sprint, she cut around a group of obese
tourists fanning themselves with folded maps of the city while
complaining about the heat before skidding to a stop directly in
front of the smarmy fortune teller.

He started to turn away. "Please," she
begged. "Just talk to me. I have so many questions. I'll pay
you."

"I don't want your money. It's tainted."

"What are you talking about?" Julia said
exasperated. "I haven't done anything."

Finally, he turned towards her. "But you
will. I've seen what you become."

"And what is that?"

"Even to speak of the most unholy act brings
bad luck." He shook his head and spit on the ground next to her.
"Don't play dumb, you know what you're getting into, I see it in
your heart."