Witch Upon a Star by Marianne Morea

Author:Marianne Morea
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Marianne Morea

Chapter 8

Daniel took my hand as we dodged tourists on the sidewalk. “No wonder people are staring. Your look is the perfect blend of sex, chance, and danger.”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy? I thought you liked my leather corset and black lace look.” I batted my eyes, teasing. “Or at least you did a few hours ago.”

He lifted my fingers to his lips, but instead of kissing them, he nipped my knuckles. “If you need me to demonstrate just how much, there’s plenty of time to head back to the room for a bit of show and tell.”

“Ha! I should’ve made you wear that black eyeliner.”

“Not a chance, girlie.” He grinned against my fingers. “I want to gain entry to this vampire club, not put myself on the menu.”

“So what does that make me, then?”

He bit my thumb. “Dessert.”

“C’mon.” I pulled my hand from his mouth. “All this food talk is making me hungry. Let’s grab dinner while we can. Who knows what might happen later?”

The bartender at the Carousel Bar tipped us off to a floating vampire club. Floating as in changing location every weekend, not levitation, although anything was possible. Tonight the club was being held in a deconsecrated chapel one block from St. Louis Cemetery #1. Daniel may have used demon compulsion to get the information, but that only meant the intel was reliable.

It was still early by Bourbon Street standards. The bars were open, but it was Saturday night and things wouldn’t get rocking for a couple of hours. Especially where we were headed. Midnight was definitely the witching hour. Or for us, the blood tell.

The crowd on the street was diverse to say the least: college jocks, single ladies, eager teens, and middle-aged looky-loos. The groups mixed and mingled, everyone out for a good time in the Big Easy.

It was the perfect place to people watch, but Daniel and I weren’t here for the street show. We had one goal, and that was to scope out the local undead.

Looking like a vampire wannabe wasn’t dress code for most restaurants, so we settled for a hole in the wall for red beans and rice and spicy gumbo. The food was amazing, so much so Daniel ordered seconds that I ended up eating.

We lingered over beignets and coffee, neither of us much for conversation at this point.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, and I gave him a close-lipped smile since that was usually my line.

I stirred my coffee, looking at him across the table. “Maybe we should’ve done the crossroads thing before trying to hit this underground club.”

“Why?”

I shrugged. “Because we’d have bait. If we want a vampire’s interest, we need to dangle something they want. Preferably not our throats.”

“I don’t think demon blood is particularly appetizing,” he replied. “Even in demi form. I hear it tastes of sulfur and gives vamps indigestion.”

“Where did you hear that?”

Outwardly, I knew I looked calm and ready, but inside I was a nervous wreck. Even after a delicious tension-relieving romp courtesy of my gorgeous fiancé.

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