Chapter 2 Kayla
Kayla
Iwalked away from the new vampire, head held high, not even a backward glance.
Fucking blood-sucking freak.
I kept everything cool and calm and casual and carefree until I closed the front door of the club behind me. Then I spilled out into the street and raced away from The Neutral Zone—or whatever fancy name the new guy was about to call it.
The new fucking guy.
I shuddered as I thought of him. Well. Not really a shudder, damn it. It was a shiver of delicious anticipation, but it needed to contain its own damn self. I’d never been swayed by a pretty man before, and I wasn’t about to start now.
We weren’t about to be friends, me and this… this… king’s representative. I scoffed, wanting to dismiss him from my mind entirely.
But there was just something about those blue eyes and carefully tousled brown hair, because it was absolutely carefully tousled.
There was no way this guy had any insecurities about his own attractiveness.
And his hair had in no way ended up so temptingly touchable by mistake.
Just the way he’d held himself had screamed look at me! look at me!
What an actual asshole.
A rich, arrogant asshole. Just what New Orleans needed.
I shook my head. Ugh. I needed to get away. Far away.
Maybe losing my job was a good thing if that guy proved to be too much of a distraction. Huh, I scoffed. Like I’d actually call him in a month. I wasn’t up for begging to sing. There were plenty of places that would want me.
I hoped, anyway.
It wasn’t like I was unknown in New Orleans, and I had my own cohort of loyal fans. A small cohort, but fans just the same. And if most of them were drunks and followed the cheapest happy hours…well, they were loyal to that much, at least.
Francois was gone. émile was dead. I had no loyalty to the House of Ricard.
The king was dead.
Hope welled inside me—the first hope I’d felt for a very long time. No king, no contract. I wouldn’t have to conduct increasingly dangerous magic on behalf of anyone anymore. I was free.
I hesitated, my steps faltering. Surely, I was free, right?
But I couldn’t remember. I’d signed a contract binding myself to the Ricard royals a very long time ago. And I’d been desperate. And I hadn’t read it properly. I’d just signed the damn thing. A threat to my livelihood and my life would have gotten me to sign anything.
They’d been my last shot to stay safe. I’d burned my way through every coven in the city. No one wanted me or what I could do. I was too dangerous. Too dark. I hadn’t even fucking meant to be a dark witch. Not really. I could just do those spells.
Only Lettie had understood. Lettie and then Francois. Or at least, I’d thought he’d understood. He’d been seductive at first. Like I mattered. I’d have signed anything he told me to, quite honestly. Even without the threats—and that knowledge seared me with shame.
But vampires were tricky. I knew that now.
I’d realized that too late. And no way in hell was I falling for that same old, same old with this new guy.
Lettie had protected me from far worse with her spell to hide my virginity all these years. It was no secret that Francois had a veritable garden full of failed attempts to find his virgin vampire mate.
I would have literally been pushing up the daisies by now, if not for Lettie and her spell…which was about due for renewal. Although maybe that didn’t matter if I was free?
Only…what if I wasn’t free now? What if this new vampire in town… I fumbled for the business card he’d handed me, and my traitorous stomach flipped over as I read his name, stylish in silver print on the thick, black card.
Sebastian Dupont.
It always served me to know the names of my enemies… there was a lot I could do with a name and the right ingredients. My time serving émile and Francois Ricard had taught me that at least.
My morals were way more flexible now, anyway. And I was happier with darker shades of gray than I’d ever expected to be.
What if he thought he owned my contract now?
I shook my head, deliberately dismissing the idea.
No way. Contracts didn’t transfer between separate families like that.
..right? It would be a pretty shit state of affairs if they did.
And there was no way that kind of crap was even legal.
I was an employee, not an indentured servant attached to the building.
So… I was pretty much one hundred percent sure I was free. Probably? Hopefully? I dragged the strap of my purse more securely onto my shoulder and powered forward through the tourists wandering between small shops and places to eat.
Definitely ninety-five percent sure, anyway. Well, maybe ninety. Or even…eighty percent was good odds, right? I could get behind a solid eighty percent shot at freedom.
I sighed as I dodged a particularly enthusiastic tourist who seemed to think he was the only one with anywhere to go. I had places to go now, too. People to see. I was going to use my unexpectedly free day to job hunt — except first I was going to find Lettie.
She knew everything about the Ricards and their contracts.
She was the oldest witch in the area, and if she didn’t know something, it wasn’t worth knowing.
She’d probably forgotten more useless information over the years than any useful shit I’d even picked up.
I also needed to discuss renewing the spell.
Just because it was like my security blanket more than anything else.
It took the brightly blazing beacon signal to all vampires in the area off my head.
Besides, whenever anything went wrong, I wanted Lettie.
She’d calmed me down during many a crisis before, and she always watched out for me.
That wasn’t to say she didn’t let me make my own mistakes.
Hell, if there were mistakes to be made, I made them.
And I kept fucking making them. I’d made a lot in twenty-two short years of life, quite honestly.
But Lettie was always there. My one constant in this shitty town.
I smiled again as I thought of her — she was as close to a grandma as I’d ever had.
I walked quickly to the small crystal shop she owned where she provided spells and other services—charms and the occasional curse—out of the back.
For the most part, the Ricards turned a blind eye to her extracurricular activities because she’d served them well over the years.
Her position here in New Orleans was probably the safest of any of us.
The usual amethyst geode was front and center in the window.
It was huge and probably older than God, and for some reason, Lettie refused every offer from potential customers to buy it.
She’d always maintained that it had been around long before the shop opened and would be around long after it closed but until that time, it would live in her window.
It was probably the biggest draw for new customers, the impressively sized crystal acting as a beacon and pulling people into the shop. Maybe she’d charmed the damn thing.
I grinned at the thought. I wouldn’t put it past her to use a little influential magic like that. The power of persuasion wasn’t just a phrase in our world.
The jewelry was always the second thing I noticed when I looked through the tiny square panes and into the window display, delicate and geared toward tourist purchases—trinkets with no real power.
But occasionally Lettie displayed something with actual muscle and oomph, something designed to appeal to someone from the local witch community.
And today, there it was. Hidden among the other pendants and bracelets was a charm bracelet containing six crystals of protection, and if I needed that any day, I needed it now.
Something about the vampire I’d just met suggested I needed protection from him.
Lettie never priced her items in the window — she wanted people in the shop so she could sell to them directly. I laughed at her technique. For such a prickly witch, she sure sold a lot of crystals.
I smiled again as I thought of her—she was as close to a grandma as I’d ever had.
It was good to be back from vacation, back with my people — the few I had — although I tended to consider the entirety of New Orleans as my people.
I just didn’t like most of them. I pressed down on the handle to let myself in the shop but nothing happened.
The handle didn’t budge, and door was locked.
I peered through the window again, looking beyond the display now as I cupped my hands around my face to peer into the dim interior.
Opening time had been hours ago…the shop should be open.
Maybe Lettie was out on official business?
Although what official business? The Ricards were out of business.
Well, maybe she already had something new shaking.
Except that didn’t really sound right either. There wouldn’t be any sort of official business before New Orleans had even settled into a new power regime or structure. And Lettie was in no way stupid enough to waste her time working for people without power or influence.
I tried the door again, even murmuring an unlocking incantation to myself, but Lettie’s magic would always trump mine, and the lock held fast as her wards buzzed to life at my cheeky attempt at intrusion.
Rather than attracting the attention of curious tourists who might call the cops if they thought I was attempting a break-in, I stepped away from the door and turned my attention to the narrow, dark alley that led to the back of the store and access to Lettie’s upstairs apartment.
Perhaps she was at home today, preparing more spells or doing her accounts.
She never took an actual day off, so she’d be around here somewhere. Or she could have been out on delivery, but I’d leave a note to let her know I’d been by.