Chapter 12
12
ESME
M y back hunched against the cold, I made my way to The Purple Fang in a little black dress, black heels, and a short red jacket. I wasn't a fan of bright colors and rarely wore them. But I liked red. The color of blood. The color of life. And of death.
The club was already open, and I watched as a group of young girls nearly fell over each other trying to get past the bouncer as I approached. But the doorman—a human?—stopped them short, and I had to wait as he checked everyone's IDs before I could get in. He recognized me when I got to him, and waved me right in.
Inside, the music was loud, and Dae—the vampire I'd met the other night—was on stage. I stared at the large dragon tattoo on his back for a minute, fascinated by the way the flex of his muscles made it appear to move on its own, before I scanned the room, searching for Brogan. But he was nowhere to be seen. As I made my way to the bar, ordered a drink, and settled in to wait, butterflies battled a fight to the death in my stomach.
I wasn't sure what I was doing here, or what I would say when I saw him even though my mind raced with possibilities, each one more nerve-wracking than the last. He was surprised and upset when I’d last seen him. Would he regret his words and be happy to see me, his face lighting up with that charming smile I'd grown so fond of? Or would he stand his ground, his eyes cold and distant, confirming that he’d truly meant every painful word? I couldn't bear the thought, but I also couldn't bear the uncertainty.
So, here I was, needing to know if he’d meant what he'd said, or if the connection we'd built in the short time we’d known each other was enough to get us through this. The truth, no matter how harsh, was better than this limbo of doubt and longing. I just…needed to know, even if the answer wasn't what I wanted to hear.
Thirty minutes passed, then an hour. Once I warmed up, I took off my jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. The place was busier than normal, the crowd in front of the stage extending almost all the way to the bar. "Why so many people?" I asked Elias when he brought me another drink. The female who usually worked in the back was helping him tonight, covering the other end of the bar.
His gaze skimmed over the crowd. "Mardi Gras is coming," he said, as if that explained everything.
And perhaps it did. This was my first time in New Orleans, but I, like most of the world, had heard about the festival leading up to Lent. "When does it start?"
"Parades will kick it off in a few days, and it just gets better from there." He smiled, flashing his fangs at me, as he took my cash and went to check on the other customers. This time, a chill ran up my spine, now that I knew how real those fangs were.
Was I completely estúpida ? Sitting in this place surrounded by vampires?
The answer to that question was a resounding YES. And yet, I stayed, nursing my drink, watching the dancers on stage between the raised arms and waving money, but none of them were Brogan.
Two hours later, he finally emerged from the back room, his hair tousled, his expression dark. My heart rose to my throat, gagging me, when I caught sight of the young blond woman with him.
I slid off my stool, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would crack my ribs, and started toward him. If he wanted to feed from other women, or do anything else for that matter, there was nothing I could do about it. I had no claim on him. But I still needed him to help me, and I could still help them.
At least, that's what I told myself.
He saw me coming and turned away, disappearing down the dark hallway. Clenching my teeth, I followed, pushing my way through the throng of bodies, desperate to reach him. We needed to talk. He could be angry at me all he wanted…after we dealt with the bigger problem.
"Brogan, wait!" I called out, but he didn't stop.
I stood there, staring at the closed metal door he’d slammed in my face, my chest heaving as I fought back the tears burning my eyes. I wanted to barge into the room, to demand that he talk to me, but when I tried the knob, it was locked.
Tears stung my eyes as I turned away, the pain of this second rejection taking me by surprise. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my vision, but the ache in my chest only seemed to intensify with each passing second. Drawing in a shaky breath, I willed myself not to break down completely. For a moment, it appeared to be a losing battle. But somehow I managed to pull myself together.
Straightening my spine and throwing back my shoulders, I held my chin high as I fought my way through the crowd to the bar where I'd left my coat. Grabbing my jacket off the back of the chair, I shrugged it on. I’d be damned if I gave any of these women the satisfaction of seeing the pain coursing through me.
"Leaving already?" Elias asked, his dark eyes seeing way more than they needed to.
I avoided his gaze, not wanting him to see the tears I could barely hold back. "Yes, I'm not feeling well," I told him by way of explanation. My voice sounded small and pathetic, even to my own ears.
Elias frowned, his brow furrowing with what almost looked like concern. "You okay, gorgeous?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, and gave him a quick smile. Then I turned away, my focus on the door, desperate to escape before the tears could spill over. The cold night air hit me like a slap when I stepped outside, stealing my breath, and I wrapped my jacket tighter around myself and started walking, my vision blurred by the tears now streaming down my face.
The streets were quieter now, most of the revelers inside the bars and clubs. I barely noticed my surroundings as I walked, my mind empty. I just wanted to get back to my apartment. If Brogan wouldn't talk to me, that was fine. Let him pout. I knew where their home was now. I would go there and speak with Killian directly. I'd talk to Lizzy about it tomorrow, and she’d commiserate with me on how males could be entirely too pigheaded for their own good and maybe she’d help me feel like I'm not so pathetically alone in this world.
By the time I reached my apartment, my feet were aching but my tears had dried, leaving salty tracks on my cheeks. I fumbled with my keys, my hands shaking from the cold and exhaustion. The door swung open and I stepped inside, ready to collapse into bed and think through my plan. Yes, tomorrow, I would talk to Lizzy and feel her out about whether she thinks Killian would be receptive to meeting with me. We didn't have much time. The djinn was already here. If I was smart, I'd have already left this haunted city. But if there was still a chance I could get revenge for my family…
I flipped on the light, and my heart stopped. There, lounging comfortably on my couch as if he lived there, was the djinn. The same one who had murdered my family.
Marcus.
I turned to run, but I was too late. The door slammed in my face with a resounding thud, effectively shutting me inside the small room. My heart raced as I stared at the closed door, panic rising in my throat. I didn't try to open it. I knew it would be no use—he would have made sure of that. Slowly, I turned to face him, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps as I met his dark, menacing gaze.
He smiled a slow, predatory grin that made my blood run cold. "Hello, Esme," he purred. "I've been waiting for you."