KATIE WANTED TO
groan with relief, which was still all she could do even though the sights and sounds of Bourbon Street no longer assaulted her. And
assault
was the absolute right word. She’d felt like the sounds of loud music, shouting people, and raucous laughter were attacking her ears. Her eyes ached and watered from the harsh flashing lights and the smells . . . In some ways, that one was the hardest for her to deal with. The foul scents of sweat and stale liquor. The rancid scent of old vomit and urine. And the harsh chemical overlay of the bleach they used every morning to wash down the street. But the smell that battered her, distracted her, filled her with a raging desire she had to use every bit of her willpower to control. She didn’t even fully understand what the sweet, luring scent called her to do, she just knew with every fiber of her being she wanted to do it. And it scared her. But then Cort pulled her to his side, his arm strong, reassuring, and suddenly she felt better. Not perfect. Not normal. But she wouldn’t have believed anything could have distracted her from the wild party that surrounded them. She was wrong.
Cort’s nearness, his scent, the friction of his hand on her arm and strength of his body close beside her, all of him, seemed to center her and shield her from everything else.
Oh, she was still filled with longing. But the kind of longing she understood. His hand moved on her arm, skin stroking over skin and she ached to be in his arms, without the barrier of clothing, his body rubbing completely against hers. Another part of him deep inside her.
She wasn’t sure if she could blush. But she suspected she could, because her cheeks burned. Of course the rest of her burned, too.
“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice husky and rich. “Just focus on me.”
As if she could do anything else.
“We’re almost there,” he said, his breath brushing against her cheek and ruffling her hair.
She shivered.
“I know this is hard,” he said, misunderstanding her shudder. “But it will get easier.”
No, this feeling would never get easier, or less intense. Her attraction to Cort had a life of its own. Oh, sure, he didn’t see that, but she did. She always had. A part of her wanted to simply turn her head and kiss him. His lips were right there. She could do it. Before he even realized what she intended.
But she didn’t. Apparently being a vampire hadn’t made her any braver, any more audacious. Damn it.
“Just a little farther.”
Yes, just a little farther to his lips. She should kiss him, right? After all, they were newlyweds. Betty and Ed expected it.
She debated making her move. Just a quick turn of her head. That would most certainly block out anything else, but before she could muster the courage, Cort steered her up a couple of cracked and chipped concrete steps and into Johnny White’s.
The sudden quiet startled Katie. The small, alleylike bar was open to Bourbon and contained several patrons, but it seemed like a warm cocoon compared to the craziness outside.
Still, she didn’t move away. She couldn’t. He felt too good. Like an anchor keeping her safe from being set adrift. A hunky, great-smelling anchor with an amazing body, killer smile, and those sexy, sleepy eyes.
Okay, maybe she was still losing it.
He led her to a barstool at the end of the bar, obviously trying to put as much space between her and the chaos outside. If he only knew what he was doing to her insides right now.
“Situations like this will get easier for you,” he said.
Why’d he keep saying that? He was so wrong.
“You’ll learn to block the lights and sounds and smells,” he assured her.
Lights, sounds, smells. Right. That’s what he was talking about.
Pull yourself together, girl.
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke.”
“Well, your bird certainly knows what it wants,” Betty said, sliding onto the stool beside Katie. “He was making the same demands last night.”
“Damn, this bird went everywhere with us. He probably knows exactly what we did last night,” Cort murmured in Katie’s ear.
“Can’t you mind-meld with it or something?”
“Yeah, no. Not one of our abilities.” He grinned, and more desire shot through her, electrical, powerful.
“Your bird was the life of the party.” Betty laughed.
Katie glanced at the parrot, which bobbed its head as if to say, “Oh yeah. Oh yeah.”
“That bird is so freaking eerie,” she whispered to Cort, who nodded.
The bartender, an older woman with obviously dyed black hair, weary eyes, and a stern set to her jaw approached. Katie wasn’t sure, but she suspected Cort was just as prepared as she was for the woman to tell them they had to go or owed money or did something so embarrassing it was better off forgotten.
But instead she simply asked in a tired voice, “What can I get you all?”
“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke,” the bird demanded, as always. Katie could have sworn his words were a little slurred. Of course, the bird was the only one who’d managed to get a drink so far.
Maybe their luck was changing.
Although as soon as the bartender left with all their orders, Cort murmured, “Let’s see if we actually get to drink these,” voicing Katie’s own thoughts exactly.
“Don’t jinx it.”
Cort smiled again and her breath caught. God, he was so gorgeous.
“Let me show you the pictures,” Betty said, managing to draw both of their attentions to her. She dug around in her purse, pulling out a small digital camera.
She turned it on, then began pushing a button in rapid succession.
“Now where are they?” the older woman said more to herself than them.
“Do we even show up in pictures?” Katie whispered to Cort, who chuckled.
“Yeah, that one is a myth, too. Vampires are too damned vain to not have reflections or show up in photos. After all, who doesn’t want to admire their eternal youth?”
“Boy, we sure took a lot of pictures of the swamp tour today, didn’t we, Ed?” Betty still pressed the little button, peering at the small screen on the back of the camera.
Ed nodded, although Katie already knew he hadn’t taken a single picture today, nor, she suspected, had he paid any attention to how many his wife took either.
“Eureka,” Betty cried as if she’d just discovered gold rather than photos of last night’s drunken revelry. “Here they are.”
She held the camera out to Katie. “Just press this button here to see the next one.”
Katie accepted the camera and squinted down at the small screen, trying to make out what she was looking at. A picture of Cort and Drake mugging for the camera. Definitely a drunken picture, but not very revealing.
Cort leaned closer, and again Katie was distracted by his nearness and scent. Her body stirred, hungry, alive. Her fangs reacted, too, lengthening just a little, but the sensation startled her and they retracted.
“That one doesn’t tell very much,” Cort said, yet again voicing her thoughts. Eerie.
She gathered herself. “No, it doesn’t.”
She pressed the button. This one showed Wyatt, Cort, Saxon and . . .
“Is that Raven?” Cort said, disgust clear in his voice.
“Yes.”
“Oh, that was your best man’s name,” Betty said. “I’d forgotten.”
“Raven was my best man?” Cort said, now stunned as well as disgusted.
“Yes. Such a nice young man.”
Katie looked at Cort and shrugged. She was pretty sure no one had ever described Raven that way before, but last night had apparently been an alternate universe. So he probably was nice last night.
In the photo, all of them were grinning widely, arms around each other. And from the background Katie could tell they were at the Old Opera House, the bar where both Katie and Cort worked. In the background, Jacob the bartender, was giving Cort and Raven bunny ears. It was a pretty classic picture actually.
She pressed the button again. This time it was a picture of her and Cort. Cort held her in his arms, and she gazed up at him with utter adoration.
And he . . . he gazed at her with the same tender expression.
“I love that one,” Betty said, and both Katie and Cort started. Katie brushed her hair away from her face, the action nervous, and a little self-conscious. Cort fidgeted with the sleeve of his shirt.
“You can just see how in love you two are.” Betty sighed.
“Yes,” Katie managed after a moment, her voice an odd croak as if her throat was swollen. She stared at the picture a moment longer, not daring to look at Cort, although she could tell out of the corner of her eye, he stared at it, too.
She pressed the button.
“Actually I was wrong,” Betty said, leaning in on the other side of Katie. “That one is my favorite.”
This time the picture actually sent chills through Katie. She looked at herself, held in Cort’s strong arms, kissing. And not just a peck, but a deep, passionate kiss. His hands on her back and tangled in her hair. Her hands held his face. Anyone looking at this would see a couple sharing an intimate moment, a truly romantic kiss.
Katie stared at those people, unable to correlate that she was looking at herself and Cort. They might look like them, but those people had to be someone else.
And in truth, she felt jealous of them. She wanted that for herself. She wanted those feelings. She wanted that connection. That touch.
She couldn’t look at him, and the total truth was, she wanted them with Cort.
“I was just telling Ed today that I can tell a couple who will last. And you two, well, I can just tell you two are going to last an eternity,” Betty said, although her voice sounded far away like Katie was hearing it in a dream.
Katie continued to stare at that couple kissing. She and Cort kissing. She’d wanted to kiss him from the moment she’d met him. And apparently she had, but she didn’t remember. Nothing.
“Here you go,” the bartender said, placing glasses in front of both Katie and Cort.
At the same time, they reached for the tall glasses, and in unison, they both downed half of it.
Chapter Twelve
867-5309
(Who Can I Turn To?)
B
ESIDE
him, Katie pulled in a deep breath while Cort took another long swallow of his drink, nearly polishing it off.
Clearly they were both shaken.
Her finger stayed on the button, as she clearly debated if she wanted to see more. Cort understood. Looking at these pictures was hard. It was hard to believe these things happened without them even knowing it.
But to her credit, she did press the button again. A picture of Betty and Ed with them lit up on the small screen. There was also one of Cort and Raven giving each other bunny ears. Now that was total weirdness. A picture of Drake and Wyatt doing shots. That was normal. Another of Saxon doing the hang-loose sign to the camera. Equally normal—if anyone could describe Saxon as normal. One of Katie sitting on Cort’s lap, both of them laughing, but he could still see that expression on both their faces. It had been there in all the pictures of just the two of them.
Love. They really did look in love. Totally and genuinely in love.
Katie’s hand shook as she lifted her glass to her lips, nearly finishing off her drink.
She pressed the button again to see a photo of a man who seemed to be covered in a layer of dirt and sweat, his filthy gray shirt that might very well have been white at one point clung to his tall, skinny frame. His equally dirty shorts threatened to slip off his narrow hips as his pose revealed he was dancing madly.
“Oh, that’s some vagrant who came in to dance while we were listening to a band at Cajun Cabin right before we met up with you,” Betty said with a chuckle, taking the camera. “That guy could really dance. Couldn’t he, Ed?”
Ed nodded.
“What time was that?” Cort asked.
Betty pursed her lips in thought. “Oh let’s see. That must have been around eleven or so, because your wedding happened around midnight. Isn’t that right, Ed?”
Ed nodded.
Cort knew Ed wasn’t exactly a bastion of accuracy, given that he’d agree to anything his wife said, but if Betty was right, they must have been off the riverboat fairly quickly after they all blacked out. Cort knew that Stella had reserved the riverboat until 2
A.M.
Why hadn’t they stayed on the boat and partied? Had something happened? Was Katie crossed over on the boat or afterward? Or had they married before the actual bite?
More mysteries. Damn.
“I guess that’s all I have, although I could have sworn I took more,” Betty said as she took the camera back. The older woman began browsing through the pictures, talking to Ed about this one and that.
Katie signaled to the bartender for another drink. Cort could see her hand still trembled.
“Are you okay?” he asked even though he knew the answer.
She nodded, then she shook her head. “Is it possible to feel embarrassed, ashamed, disappointed—and excited all at once?”
The bartender arrived, giving him a moment to think about her question. A question he didn’t really like. Or rather he didn’t like the implications of it. He could understand embarrassed. He was, too. And excited—well, he was assuming she was referring to having another clue about what happened last night. But ashamed and disappointed. Wow, now that didn’t sound good at all.
Real or sham marriage, no man wanted a woman to be ashamed and disappointed about it. Okay, maybe he couldn’t speak for all men in this position—if any other man had ever been in this position—all he knew was he wasn’t pleased with her feeling these things about their nuptials.
He certainly hated the fact that he’d looked at those photos and felt excitement, too. Excitement at seeing himself touching her. Kissing her. Doing all the things he’d imagined doing to her.
And he had—and he couldn’t remember a bit of it. Oh, cruel irony.
The bartender returned, and again Katie downed her drink. Another sure sign she was very agitated. In the time he’d known her, she’d never been a major drinker. He’d noted that, not only because he noted most things about this beautiful woman, but because the fact that she wasn’t an overdrinker or major partier stood out in a town like New Orleans.
She was very upset. And that upset him.
“Well,” she said once her drink was gone and she’d pulled herself up, stick straight, “those didn’t reveal too much.”
Cort nodded, even though he was in total disagreement. Those pictures revealed a whole damned lot to him. For example, how much he was into Katie. His desire for her might as well have been written on his face in marker.
I’m crazy about Katie Lambert.
He wondered if she saw it, too. Was that part of why she felt the way she did?
“Well,” he said, willing himself to sound as calm as she did, “we know we were at the Old Opera House at some point. And Raven was with us. And that, again, it would seem that we are married.”
“Yes,” she agreed, her tone actually sounding almost sad.
Wasn’t it bad enough she didn’t want to be married to him, did she have to be depressed about it, too?
“I wonder how Raven ended up being your best man?” she said, reaching for her drink, only to realize it was empty. She dropped her hand back to her lap.
“Another?” he asked, and she shook her head.
“I don’t know. That is a mystery,” he said. “I personally can’t stand the guy.”
“I’m not a fan either,” Katie said, and her admission pleased him.
Now there was his worst nightmare—Katie dating Raven after their annulment.
“I’m glad to hear that,” he said. “I’d have to deny you an annulment if you told me you had a thing for him.”
Sure, he’d said that to be funny, but he wasn’t sure it was totally untrue.
And apparently it hadn’t sounded like a joke to her either, because she turned slightly on her barstool to study him.
Shit, he shouldn’t have said that.
But to his relief, she managed a small laugh. “You really must dislike the guy.”
Cort disliked the idea of him anywhere near Katie. And if he was going to be really honest, at least with himself, Raven’s obvious interest in Katie was probably the primary reason he didn’t like the man.
He smiled, then used her words. “I’m not a fan.”
She smiled back and he got lost for a moment. He loved her smile. It was light, sunshine, warm and cheery. He’d been drawn to that from the first moment he saw her.
“Maybe I took some pictures on my phone, too,” she said suddenly, looking around her. “Oh wait, I don’t have my purse. Oh no. I hope it’s at your place.”
“It probably is,” Cort reassured her, although who knew, with the night they had? He patted his own pocket, remembering his phone was in his jeans.
He dug it out and pressed the sequence of buttons to get him to his camera.
“I don’t have any,” he said, not surprised. He didn’t use his phone for much but phone calls and the occasional text. He noticed he didn’t have any of those either. He wondered what the other guys had found out. Probably as little as they had.
He set the phone on the bar as he reached for his drink again.
“We really had a great time with you all last night,” Betty said, her attention no longer on her camera. She shifted so she was smiling at both of them. “You two are just the cutest couple. Ed and I can’t wait to see your bands play.”
How weird to know that these people, these strangers, didn’t see them as strangers. And why should they? Betty and Ed had been a part of their wedding. That was bonding.
Cort wanted to ask where they’d been married but couldn’t bring himself to admit he had no idea. Especially since this woman seemed to consider them the romance of the century. William and Kate had nothing on Cort and Katie and their forgotten wedding.
“And your story is just so romantic,” Betty said with a sigh, backing up his theory. The older woman took a sip of her drink, her expression dreamy.
What story?
Cort glanced at Katie.
“It is romantic,” Katie said. “But what especially about our story did you find romantic?”
Betty made a face like it should be obvious, which for people without complete memory loss, it probably would be.
“Well, that Cort saved your life,” Betty said, shaking her head.
“Oh right,” Katie said. Cort could tell that comment didn’t trigger any memories. Nor for him.
But Cort couldn’t help find the comment rather ironic, since he knew he was still the prime candidate for actually taking her life. Sure, he gave her a new, immortal existence, but still, to cross her over, Cort had to have drained her mortal life.
Katie glanced at him, but then refocused on Betty. “It is so romantic. Do you mind telling us the story?”
When Betty made a confused face, Katie added, “Both Cort and I actually love hearing it, too.”
Katie smiled then so radiant and so sincere, that Cort almost believed her. They did love hearing the story.
“Well, I have to admit that when you shared it with me, I might have been a little tipsy,” Betty said, a little embarrassed, which she hardly needed to be with them, “but you did tell us that Katie had a terrible accident and Cort saved her. You even gave her your own blood to rescue her.”
Gave her his own blood. Cort would have had to give her his own blood to transform her into a vampire. Another indication he was the biter—which he’d suspected right from the start anyway.
But Katie had had a terrible accident?
“A terrible accident,” Katie said, her tone pondering, their thoughts synched.
Then Katie seemed to realize how she sounded, because she nodded, and said definitely, “Yes, it was a terrible accident.”
“It sounded horrific,” Betty said, reaching out to pat Katie’s hand, although she looked almost as puzzled as they did. “Although, you didn’t really tell us exactly what happened. Aside from Cort being your hero.”
Cort could tell Betty wanted more details.
Oh, if only we knew, Betty.
“I don’t actually like to talk about that part,” Katie said, offering Betty a sad smile. “It’s—it’s difficult, you know, to remember that part.”
Very difficult. Damned near impossible.
“I can only imagine,” Betty said, sympathetically patting Katie’s hand again. “But thankfully Cort was there.”
“Yes. Thankfully.”
Katie couldn’t be feeling nearly as grateful as she managed to sound. How could she be pleased about being a vampire against her will? And at his hands—or rather his fangs? It was a wonder she didn’t hate him.
Hell, maybe she did. Cort suspected it would be hard to tell if the sweet, sunny Katie hated anyone. Not a comforting thought at this moment.
Beside him the bird shuffled around, and he thought he heard the awful creature say something about slapping some fat. Or maybe riding a wave. He wasn’t really sure. He was too busy watching Katie, trying to read her expression. The real one beyond her fake smile.
She must have sensed his intent look, because she turned to him, regarding him back. Looking directly into her eyes, he could see all those emotions still there.
He opened his mouth to say they should leave, when he heard a loud clatter next to him. He looked around, trying to figure out what caused the noise.
“Your phone,” Katie said, pointing to the floor beside his stool.
The bird stood on the edge of the bar, bobbing its head and looking quite pleased with itself.
Cort rose from his stool, then bent down to pick up the phone. He shoved it in his pocket, suddenly feeling too frustrated to deal with any of this. All they were doing was going around in circles. For everything they did find out about last night, there was just another question.
And he was sick of it.
He couldn’t fix Katie being a vampire. But he could fix the marriage situation. And as far as whatever else happened, he didn’t give a shit. They’d go find the damned priest, find out about an annulment, and things would go back to normal as much as they could.
“Okay, we have to go,” he stated, his tone so gruff that even Betty didn’t argue this time. And of course, if Betty didn’t argue, Ed wouldn’t think of it.
Katie, however, looked surprised by his sudden change of mood. Her brow creased slightly, and now she studied him. Even the bird stopped its pleased head bobbing and spread its wings and cawed loudly, as if to share opposition to the idea. Adding to that, it tottered back to its drink.
“Screw that, buddy,” he muttered to the bird. “You are done, too.”
He reached for the feathered bastard, which pecked him, yet again. Cort snatched his hand away, shaking out the sharp pain.
“Then stay here, you asshole,” he growled lowly to the beast, and he reached for the Elvis cookie jar instead.
Remembering they had drinks to pay for, he shoved his free, non-injured hand into his pocket.
“We’ve got the drinks.”
Cort’s attention shot back to the older couple, startled. It had been Ed who offered to pay. Maybe he did make decisions in the relationship after all.
“Thank you,” Cort said, giving the man a genuine nod of appreciation.
“Are you ready?” Cort said to Katie.
She nodded, still looking confused by his sudden need to leave. Betty insisted on hugging them both again. Finally, Cort gestured for Katie to go ahead of him, then they both started toward the door.
“Oh, your bird,” Betty called.
Cort turned to tell them that bird wasn’t his and he could stay right where he was, but the bird took that moment to decide he, too, was leaving after all.
The parrot flapped its wings and swooped off the bar, navigating the narrow room without incident to land right on Cort’s shoulder.
The few patrons in the bar applauded as if the bird had done some amazing feat of acrobatics.
Cort nodded in a very feeble attempt to be gracious, then he stepped out onto Bourbon Street.
“Next time you peck me, buddy, you are going straight to the pound,” he muttered to the winged beast.
The parrot bobbed its head in antagonistic response.