La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust (18 page)

As Armand headed back to where she stood
dumbfounded, he paused long enough to bump fists with the
doorman.

Chapter Twelve

"Shall we?" He offered his elbow and Julia
slipped her arm through the opening. The gathered crowd stepped
back as he led her from the bar, giving them ample room to ease
from the confines of the small courtyard.

She felt a pair of eyes burning into her and
caught sight of the midnight-haired vampire Armand had been
speaking with upstairs. Standing perfectly still in the shadow of
the adjacent building wall, he watched her intently. The expression
on his beautiful face wasn't sinister, but it filled her with dread
anyway. In fact, the longer she held his iridescent gaze, the more
panicked she felt until finally, she forced her head to turn away.
Her arm linked through Armand's was the only thing that made her
feel safe. She wished there was an easier way to tell the good
vampires from the bad besides her panic instinct.

"Julia, do you mind if we take a walk?"
Armand wondered once they'd pushed passed the mob that had gathered
around the Paddy wagon. "I'm strung a little...tight. A walk
usually helps calm me down."

She glanced up at him. The tendons on his
neck were like steel cables, and she could actually see the tension
working his jaw. "A walk sounds wonderful."

"Have you been to the river yet?"

"No, but I've been meaning to."

"Good." He was silent for a moment, weaving
effortlessly through the gaggle of stumbling tourists. It was like
he could anticipate their movements before their brains could even
summon one electrical impulse. "I'm sorry you had to see that. I
try very hard not to let my temper get the best of me."

"I think you were justified. I mean, do you
really think Darus killed Eve?"

"I'll let the DNA determine his guilt or
innocence, but yes, I do believe he was the last person to see Eve
alive."

"How often is a Donor is killed?" The word
Donor
felt strange as it meekly rolled off her tongue.

"Rarely, but once is too often. It should
never happen." Armand glanced at her. "Donating is usually safe,"
he assured. He must have read the fear and doubt on her face.
"There are some inherent dangers, of course. Hitting a major
artery, tendon damage, infection...but these are easily avoidable
with a little education. Contrary to popular myth, it is virtually
impossible to 'drink someone dry'." That was a relief. "A person
has to lose about 40% of their blood to die. A small woman like Eve
or yourself has about 8 pints of blood. That's a lot of blood to
lose, and a lot to consume."

"How much does one usually drink?"
Drink
felt even weirder coming out of her mouth than
Donor
had.

"About a shot glass." Julia remembered the
skinny guy at
Luxure
being served a shot glass filled with
thick red liquid. She'd originally thought it looked like blood and
then laughed at the thought. It appeared her initial impression had
been correct after all.

"But there are some that require much more."
He caught her gaze and held it captive. "You do understand what
Luxure
is, don't you? I mean, it is a legitimate bar,
complete with liquor and business licenses, but we cater to a
different
clientele?"

"I know."

"I thought you did. I just wanted to make
sure."

"If donating is safe, how was Eve killed? The
paper said she died from blood loss."

"I don't doubt that, although I imagine there
were drugs involved too. She'd been coming into the bar daily for a
week, leaving with different patrons, four, sometimes five times an
evening. I didn't fault her for her promiscuity, so to speak, but
at some point it ceases to be safe, especially since she was
usually high. I finally kicked her out. Victims like Eve are
dangerous to have around."

"Victims?"

"Donors that literally want to be someone's
victim. There's usually a bit of delusion and Hollywood fantasy
involved. Since drama always follows Victims, they tend to be more
of a nuisance than anything. But every so often, a Victim like Eve
comes along and manages to fulfill the fantasy. And unfortunately,
there are members in the Community, like Darus, that are happy to
help."

"What about that guy with the long dark hair
you were talking to at The Cell? Is he dangerous?" Just thinking of
his eerie, pale gaze made her shudder.

Armand's face was dead serious when he turned
to her. "I'm not sure, but stay away from him. He's not right."

Julia nodded tightly. She only needed the one
warning.

They'd passed Jackson Square, crossed
Decatur, the trolley tracks, and were climbing the stairs to the
river levee where a walking trail lined with park benches followed
the crest and curve. Without the shelter of the tight buildings,
the wind pressed through the thin material of Julia's dress,
lifting goose bumps in areas she didn't realize she had them. The
temperature had dropped at least 20 degrees, and she wrapped her
arms around her chest in a feeble attempt to block the wind. The
attempt wasn't needed for long. One glance her direction, and
Armand shrugged out of his frock coat and slipped it over her
shoulders.

"Aren't you cold?" she asked.

He smiled. "No."

Of course not. Why would he be?

She slid her arms into the heavy brocade
coat. It was ridiculously big on her, but warm, and the silk lining
felt luxurious against her bare skin. His scent wafted up from the
folds of fabric and she inhaled deeply, savoring the spicy, earthy
smell.

The wind whipped across the levee, twisting
the coat around her legs. She pulled it tighter and shivered. "I
can't believe how windy it is. Or how much colder it's gotten."

"The storm has changed course. It's heading
inland."

She stared at him, remembering the massive
swirl churning its way across the TV on the news this morning. "The
one in the Gulf?"

"Yes, but don't worry." How was she supposed
to not? "They usually lose energy by the time they reach the city."
Usually
did not make her feel better. That meant sometimes
they gained energy. "If they reach the city at all," he assured.
"It might miss us all together." He spied her from the corners of
his hazel eyes. "Do we need to make a trip to the St. Louis
Cemetery to ask Marie Laveau for another favor?"

"No, that won't be necessary," she said, a
little embarrassed at the memory of her last request and the
obvious way he teased her about it. Maybe his teasing was well
founded. She did tend to over worry things. If Armand didn't seem
worried that the storm had changed course, she probably shouldn't
either.

Although, duh, vampire.

"Have you been through many hurricanes?"

"More than I can count." He turned to her.
"But we've talked enough about me; I want to hear about you."

She'd really rather hear about him. "There's
not much to tell."

"Humor me." He sat on one of the benches
overlooking the river and gestured for her to join him. Sitting
dangerously close to him, she snuggled into his coat and cast her
gaze over the vast expanse of the Mississippi, barely making out
the outlines of a few navy ships. A barge churned through the murky
water, gurgling and chugging along at its steady, turtle pace. Off
in the distance, just past the downtown skyline, a cruise ship was
docking.

The water lapping against the riprap lined
banks was almost as soothing as waves crashing on a beach. She
could sense Armand waiting for her to speak, and she had every
intention to indulge him, she just wished his desires ran towards
the less clothed side.

"There's not much to tell. I live alone with
my cat in downtown Alton, Illinois. I work my 40 hours a week as a
public servant of sorts, read entirely too much, and socialize
primarily with my sister. I'm pretty boring."

"Boring is not a word I'd use to describe
you, Julia. Understated, perhaps, maybe even unassuming, but
definitely not boring."

She wasn't sure who he was talking about, but
it couldn't possibly be her. "If you say so."

"What's your cat's name?" It was an abrupt
change in conversation.

"Beelzebub."

"An appropriate name for a cat."

Did that mean he didn't like cats or he knew
that all cats were really the devil in furry little bodies? "It
suits him."

"What is downtown Alton like?"

"Small, made mostly of brick, with a few
bars, restaurants, and plenty of bikers and antique shops."

"Do you like it?"

"It's okay. Alton can be a weird mix. It's an
old, industrial city that's trying to become a destination town. I
don't feel like it's found its niche yet."

"So why did you become an engineer?"

Maybe his life was so crazy that her dull,
mundane existence actually seemed interesting to him. For a man
like Armand, was her boringness exotic, so completely foreign and
therefore enticing? It was the only possible reason he found her
attractive.

"Well, I was always good at math, and when I
went to college the funds weren't exactly flowing, so I needed
something with plenty of scholarships. I love water, so civil
engineering seemed logical."

"I love water too," he said quietly. "Do you
enjoy the work?"

"Most of the time. Since I work in the public
sector, I can see the benefit to the community. It's nice to feel
like you're helping society in some small way."

"I wouldn't say it's a small contribution.
Being in New Orleans after Katrina made me truly understand the
importance of infrastructure and how we take it for granted. It's
one of those things that usually isn't appreciated until it's
gone."

"Like trash service."

"Exactly."

"So, you stayed during Katrina," she left the
statement open, hoping he'd volunteer more information. She was
glad to be able to bring the conversation back to him.

"I did. Foolishly perhaps, but it was an
experience I wouldn't take back."

"Why is that?"

"I was able to see the city, and the world,
with fresh eyes. It helped put things in perspective for me." He
turned to her, shifting the conversation again. "Thank you for
coming down here with me. I'm feeling much...calmer."

"The river
is
soothing," she agreed,
letting the gentle lapping and the steady chug of the passing barge
lull every last piece of tension from her body. The encounter with
Dave, then Darus, then the
other
creepy vampire, had left
Julia's shoulders in knots.

"True, but it's more than that," he smiled at
her and she smiled back under heavy lids, a yawn sneaking out as
she did. She covered her mouth in a hurry.

"I'm sorry. It's just really late."

"No apologies." He rose, holding his hand out
for her. "But I think it's time to tuck you in."

She took his hand and he pulled her to her
feet. Momentum carried her within inches of him, and she waited
anxiously, chin lifted to the sky. His mouth lingered above hers,
but he just stood there immobile, looking down at her with those
gorgeous eyes. God, if he would only kiss her.

"If I kiss you now," he whispered, as if he'd
read her mind. Heck. Maybe he could. "I won't be able to stop
there."

The wind whistled across the river, finding
its way beneath her skirt. At least the cold air managed to bring
the heat between her legs down to a temperature that wasn't about
to spontaneously combust.

"Then don't."

Armand's lips pulled across his teeth in a
crooked smile. "As much as I'd like to lay you down on this park
bench, I'd rather savor you in a more...
appropriate
setting."

The way the word "savor" rolled off his
tongue sent flames and ice sickles down her spine at the same time.
It was like two fronts meeting and a tornado was brewing. She might
want to give every part of her body to him, but she still couldn't
decide if the thought of him drinking from her scared or turned her
on more.

Nevertheless, she was disappointed that her
back wasn't pressed against the hard metal bench.

He stepped back. "We really should head back
before I do something that'll get us both arrested."

"Alright," she conceded grudgingly.

Keeping her hand firmly in his, Armand led
her back through the city. The conversation was light and easy. He
inquired more about her boring life, ignoring her attempts to shuck
the questions. Julia wasn't interested in talking about herself,
and finally succeeded in turning the conversation to more generic
items. She was surprised by the amount of things they had in
common. Political views, world views, places they'd like to
visit...judging by his appearance alone, she would have never
thought they shared so many of the same life philosophies. The more
she spoke with him, the more she realized the attraction and
connection she felt towards him was much more than physical.

The walk back was far too brief and in no
time, they were turning onto Conti. Julia's heart did a triplet and
jumped into overtime. Her hotel was barely 100ft away; she could
see the green fabric awning. She wasn't ready for the night to end.
The memory of kissing him was too enticing to let it end there.

Did she just ask him to stay the night? What
would happen then? Would he bite her? Did she want him to?

"Which hotel are you in?"

It was steps away. "The Conti Royal. Right
here."

He glanced at the awning. "So it is."

Before she had a chance to chicken out, she
blurted: "Would you like to come up?"

As achingly slow as it was graceful, he
turned to her, his multicolored eyes brimming with a mixture of
lust and regret. "I want to, believe me I do, but-"

She didn't let him finish. For the second
time this evening and in her life, she just went for it and kissed
him. Maybe she'd regret it later, but right now she was grateful
for the courage being drunk granted.