Coveted - Book 3 in the Gwen Sparks Series Page 21

  I swept all of my questions back into the corners of my mind, ready to revisit them later. Pushing off the wall, I crossed the street to Marie Laveau’s voodoo shop. I wasn’t sure if they would have the ingredients I needed for the spell, but it was my only option right now. As far as I knew there wasn’t a witches’ shop around. Climbing the concrete steps, I stepped inside the small shop. I nodded at the man behind the counter and walked up to him.

  “Hi.” I smiled. “I was in here the other day with my…friend. And I was wondering if you stock these items?” I dug into my pocket and handed the man the envelope I’d scribbled the spell on. He stared at me for a moment before grabbing the paper. His eyes scanned the text, flicking up to my face before going back to the list.

  “Carla,” he called across the room. “Take the register.”

  I looked over my shoulder at Carla. She was of average height and wore a tie-dyed ruffled skirt that fell to the floor. Her curly brown hair was held back with a silver headband and her crow’s feet were accentuated when she watched me with suspicion.

  “Follow me.” The man motioned with his hand and headed toward the back of the store. Turning to follow the man helping me I flashed a smile and nodded a greeting to Carla as we passed. “We don’t carry a witch’s cupboard here.” He whispered the word ‘witches’ “But we offer blocking spells that work the same.”

  I was staring at the shelves and pointed toward a rack of necklaces. “These?”

  The man followed the direction I pointed and shook his head. “No, the stuff up front is more for fun than accuracy. We keep the real stuff in back. Spells are some serious business,” he laughed. “Could you imagine if we allowed humans free range of them?”

  I laughed nervously because at Broomsticks I sold to supernaturals and humans. But the potions I sold were low key—minor. I didn’t see the harm in selling them and I hadn’t had any complaints.

  We slipped through the beaded curtain and into the room I’d been in with Dorian and Kiah.

  “I’m Matt by the way,” he said as he searched the shelves.

  “Gwen,” I responded. “Are you a witch?”

  He chuckled, looking at me over his shoulder. “Nah, but my mother was and my sister is. The magic didn’t choose me.”

  What was I supposed to say to that? “Sorry.”

  “I was jealous at first, but I’m over it. Besides, I still feel connected to magic working here, ya know?”

  I nodded. “Believe me, sometimes magic can be more trouble than it’s worth.”

  “I hear ya,” Matt agreed. “Here we go.”

  A necklace dangled from his finger—a diamond shaped stone on leather cording. Etched in the center of the stone was a horizontal oval with three lines across it. I took a couple steps to cross the room. Reaching out, I caught the pendent in my hand and studied it.

  “It won’t interfere with this one will it?” I tugged out the necklace Kiah had given me. So far the charm hadn’t worked but I wasn’t about to insult the workings of a voodoo practitioner. Then again, I hadn’t had any run-ins with rogues since coming to New Orleans.

  “Nah, if anything it will amplify the protection necklace and they’ll strengthen each other.” Matt held the necklace in both hands and slipped it over my head, lifting my hair so the cord lay against my neck. His fingers brushed my skin, lingering a little too long.

  “Thanks,” I said with a bit of discomfort.

  We made our way back up front. Matt went behind the counter and rang up the necklace. After paying him and thanking him one last time, I headed back out onto the street. I lifted the pendent, studying the stone and hoping it worked as well as the one Fiona wanted me to make. Chances were, my magic wouldn’t have been strong enough to enchant my own anyway. And enchanted items were subjective at best. In order for the magic to work properly; the one possessing the item had to believe in it. It was the reason why I didn’t mind selling these sorts of knick-knacks to humans. Still, I felt a bit of comfort with the two necklaces around my neck.

  I headed down the sidewalk in search of food. There were too many choices, every venue competing with the next to usher customers into their establishments. I wasn’t looking for something crowded or loud. A nice peaceful restaurant was what I needed, a place to eat my food in peace and be alone with my thoughts. And I wasn’t going to find it on Bourbon Street.

  I cut across the street, turning down Conti Street. The lively atmosphere that New Orleans offered was contagious. I found myself smiling as I walked down the sidewalk and watched the excited people. A red and blue sign featuring a smiling lobster caught my eye up ahead. I had the offhand thought that he shouldn’t look so happy considering it was a seafood restaurant if Oceana was any indication.

  I passed a man sitting on an old milk crate playing a saxophone, a tip jar beside him. I dug a five-dollar bill out of my pocket, dropping it into the jar and smiling. He nodded his thanks, and I continued on my way.

  Oceana’s front was made out of reddish brown brick. Thick white wood trim encased the red door, and music spilled out as someone stepped inside. I followed, my eyes falling over the place. It wasn’t the small café-style place I was looking for, but it smelled delicious and I could almost hear my stomach whining in anticipation.

  After waiting a good half an hour, I was finally sitting at a window seat and scanning a menu with excitement. Another twenty minutes and my seafood pasta arrived. I was pretty sure my stomach jumped for joy. I stabbed my fork into the medley, my entire body sagging in satisfaction. As I devoured my food, I watched the surrounding people. Some tables were full of big groups, friends out for a night together, families and couples. I tried to avoid the couple tables; they only depressed me, turning my smile upside down. Blah.

  Watching people through the window was safer than witnessing the couple across from me making out again. My foot tapped with the music playing over the speaker system while I tracked the crowd passing beside outside. One particularly got my attention. I took a drink of my water to wash down the food, leaning up so I could see better. The man was leaning against the wall of a business across the street, one leg bent up and arms crossed while another guy stood next to him. That wasn’t what grabbed my attention; it was the flash of ink on the back of the second man’s neck. I chewed on my straw, the food in my stomach turning into a concrete glob. Both guys were in deep conversation, all the while their eyes tracking each person. They could be drug dealers, thieves or innocent tourists, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

  I swung around, searching the restaurant for my waiter. When I caught his eye, I waved my hand in the air as a cue I was ready for the check. Swinging around again, I checked on the strange men and all of the air rushed out of my lungs. The spot they had occupied was empty. Scooting closer to the window, I scanned this way and that way for them, hoping I would be able to spot them further down the sidewalk. They were gone.

  “Here you go,” my waiter said, setting the check on the table. “How was everything?”

  “Good.” I smiled, scanning my total and digging some cash out. “Keep the change.” I scooted out of the booth, reaching inside my jacket to make sure the dagger was still there.

  Outside again, I headed back the way I’d come. The sky was now bathed in twilight, the hint of stars poking through the darkness. The streets were still as lively as ever, the glow of businesses’ signs giving a false sense of security. Every couple of minutes I would peek over my shoulder to see if anyone was following me. Other than getting a few odd stares from those behind me, the men were still missing.

  I cut across the street for good measure, making sure to keep track of anyone doing the same. After ten minutes of uneventful walking I was beginning to relax, confident the two men hadn’t been rogues and I was being paranoid for nothing.

  Unfortunately, right when I chose to let my guard down was when I was shoved from behind. Hard. I stumbled over my feet, landing on my ass in a dark alley between two businesses. I was only six feet
away from the opening, but it might as well have been miles, because the silhouette of a man was blocking my path. I scrambled up, turning to run for the second opening, my feet beating against the uneven concrete. My mind reeled, my heart raced and hope filled me the closer I got. I could see the people walking past, unaware I was in trouble. My lungs wanted to scream for their attention, but if the man was a rogue then it was best to leave humans out of it.

  Eight feet separated me and my escape. I looked over my shoulder to see the man’s progress, and was confused to see he wasn’t running at all. His footsteps were unhurried as he advanced. The weirdness of this caused my own feet to falter. Was he just a man cutting across the alley to get to the other block? He hadn’t spoken or made any threats still, I walked with haste to the opening.

  Right before I made it though, another man stepped into my path. He just stood there, watching me. I glanced at the other man and he stopped walking as well. Both exits were blocked, that bubble of hope squashed and my life in danger— if the evil smiles on the men’s faces were any indication.

  My fingers curled around the hilt of the dagger as I pulled it from my jacket. I tried to remember Dorian’s lesson, and eased my grip to a looser hold. The first man started moving again, his steps still unhurried, while the second man stood guard at the other end of the alley.

  “Well lookey what we have here.” The first man tilted his head. “A spirit walker without her bodyguard.”

  Definitely not humans.

  “What do you reckon the prize for killing this filly will be?”

  “Killing the number one mark when the others couldn’t?” The second man said. “We’ll be kicked up a few notches in the company, that’s for damn sure.”

  Both men were absolutely giddy at the prospect of ending my life. What they didn’t know, was that I felt the same way about ending theirs.

  “You’re pretty over confident,” I remarked. “Sounds like you’re compensating for something.”

  The first man stepped closer. “I wouldn’t spout off when you don’t have your angel to back it up.”

  That was fine, I would allow them to keep underestimating me. If they thought I was helpless then I had the upper hand.

  “I think I’ll have a bite to eat before I kill you. Your heart is serenading me.” He closed his eyes and began making sounds to mimic the beating of my heart, keeping perfect pace with the slamming in my chest. Figures the two to pin me would be demonic vampires. While he reveled in the music of my heartbeat; I tried to connect with any surrounding spirits. New Orleans was full of them, but I couldn’t sense any nearby. It looked like my knife was my only defense this time.

  “C’mon Roy,” the second man said. “Kill her and get it over with.” He looked over his shoulder nervously.

  Right when Roy opened his eyes, my arm shot up and I brought the knife toward his forehead. Roy heard the swoosh of air I had disturbed though and caught my wrist.

  Stay calm Gwen.

  Trying not to panic, I kicked my leg out and landed a hard blow to Roy’s stomach. It was enough for him to release me, but it wouldn’t do any damage.

  “Hold her, Timmy,” Roy shouted.

  “Timmy? Really, what are you twelve years old?”

  Timmy did not appreciate my comment. He growled, flashing a pair of very sharp fangs, appearing right in front of me. I admit, dealing with two vampires scared me. Their speed would make it hard to get the drop on them. The best I could do was try to slow them down enough to get away. If an opportunity arose in which I could kill them I would take it, but escaping them was first priority.

  I shot my arm out while Timmy was busy giving me the stink eye, and buried the dagger into his stomach, making a quick upward motion. He looked down at his slashed gut in surprise, his fingers going to the wound and coming away slick with blood.

  “I changed my mind, Roy,” he said. “We’ll kill this bitch so slowly she’ll be begging for death.”

  My veins filled with ice. Goosebumps pebbled my skin and my breath came out in puffs of smoke. The entire atmosphere changed from dangerous to deadly in a blink of an eye. Roy and Timmy looked at each other, then looked at me.

  “Someone say my name?” Dorian’s voice filtered through the alley. The air in my lungs thinned as I gasped. Fury consumed him, his body wound so tight his muscles strained against his skin. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket, or his sunglasses which I thought was odd. Dorian didn’t go out without shielding his eyes from the world. His eyebrows were drawn together, his mouth pressed so tight it formed one line against his hard face.

  He walked down the alleyway, his footsteps the only sound. Both Timmy and Roy stood motionless, staring at Death as he neared them. The closer he got the colder the temperature fell. Ice began crystalizing on the brick walls. My teeth rattled against each other and my entire body convulsed against the sudden coldness. My breath clouded in front of me as I took shaky breaths.

  “D-Dorian,” I stuttered before I stopped talking altogether. My teeth were clanging together too much and my bones shaking, causing my muscles to ache. He shot me a look just as angry as the one he gave Roy and Timmy. And I felt myself inwardly cringing from the eye of the storm brewing beneath his surface.

  Roy and Timmy took his distraction as a sign to run, but as fast as they were, Death was quicker. Dorian popped out of existence in front of me and appeared at the other end of the alley, blocking the rogue’s escape. Roy skidded to a stop, but Timmy wasn’t quick enough. He slammed right into Dorian’s chest, stumbling back a couple feet.

  Dorian snatched the rogue’s throat in his hand and lifted Timmy up off the urine stained ground. Timmy flailed in his grasp, his legs kicking out as strangled gurgles hissed from his mouth.

  “Patience, Demon,” Dorian said, speaking in a calm tone. His voice was in complete contradiction to the volcano of rage emanating from his body. Roy took off in the other direction, heading toward the other exit. Dorian shoved his arm out, a simple gesture that didn’t look all that powerful, but it forced Timmy’s body all the way down the alley. My eyes followed his flying body until it smacked into Roy’s back and they both crumpled to the ground.

  Dorian appeared right beside them in a flash. Fisting Roy’s shirt, he hauled him up right when his fist descended. The sickening crack of fist meeting flesh was enough to make me quiver in revulsion. I stood frozen against the dumpster, staring as Dorian repeatedly introduced Roy’s face to his hard punches.

  Timmy was up and racing toward the other end of the alley before I realized he’d even moved. Dorian let go of Roy, his body crumpling to the ground. He shot his arm out and Timmy’s entire body went still, caught in mid-run. I glanced at Dorian, worried I was about to witness another beating. What I saw caused my mouth to fall open in disbelief. On the wall just behind Dorian was the shadow of two large wings. I stared at them, then at Dorian. There were no wings coming out of his back. I blinked; convinced I was imagining the design on the wall. But the expanse of feathery wings still spanned the brick.

  Wisps of fog rose from Timmy’s shirt. If I didn’t know better I’d think he was on fire. It didn’t take long; the mist lifted out of his body, disappearing into the cold breeze. Timmy collapsed against the concrete, his body already starting to flake away.

  Dorian turned back to Roy, but not before flashing me a look that froze me from the inside out. He grabbed onto the remaining rogue, hauling him up and dragging him over to me. Both men stood in front of me, though Roy wasn’t exactly standing on his own. Roy’s dazed eyes stared at me. Blood streaked in thin rivulets down his mangled face. I pressed harder against the icy brick behind me, my stomach threatening to expel the food I had just eaten.

  “Do you see her?” Dorian growled. When Roy didn’t respond, he shook him a few times. Roy blinked like he was seeing me for the first time.

  “If you, or any of your other brethren, ever even think about her I’ll slay each and every one of you. It’ll be you begging for end by the time
I’m done. Understand?” He shook him again and Roy mumbled something that sounded like ‘yes’.

  “Now be a good little messenger and relay the message.” Dorian threw him away like a piece of trash he was done with. Roy stumbled, landing on his knees before scrambling up and staggering down the alley. He would heal, but he would also need blood to do so. I was trying very hard not to think about his future victim.

  The alley seemed like it was pressing in on me. Dorian’s presence filled the air all around us, artic and pissed. My body was sore from trembling but growing numb. I couldn’t feel my fingers or face anymore.

  Dorian looked up at me, his eyes still dark and rolling with hellish clouds. He watched me for what seemed like hours. I didn’t dare speak or look away, afraid of what his reaction might be.

  He took a step back, hanging his head and taking a deep breath to calm himself. I waited, still shocked speechless by the chaos I had just seen. Water on the dumpster beside me began dripping. Dragging my eyes away from Dorian; I noticed the ice was melting. Like a vacuum had swept through the alleyway, the cold air rushed away.

  Dorian cleaned his bloody knuckles off on his jeans, sweeping his hair out of his eyes and looked at me again. His mouth turned down in the corners when he took a step forward and I flinched. It wasn’t that I was so much afraid of Dorian, but I’d never seen him so outraged before. It shocked me.

  He advanced toward me, stopping just in front of me. “I scared you,” he stated, running his hands up and down my arms. “You know what scares me?” With his forefinger he tipped my chin up so I’d meet his eyes. “The idea of a world without you.” He didn’t wait for my reply, instead his mouth claimed mine—hard and possessive. His tongue slipped between my lips, tasting and dancing with mine. He clasped my face in both hands and chased away the cold clinging to my bones. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held him tighter.