rescue me. I am a strong, independent woman who has no problem handling her own goddamn self. But, I admit—this feels…nice. Eli is the epitome of strength, and I trust him completely. I revel in his embrace for a few more moments because somehow, I have another feeling, boring deep into the pit of my stomach, that this won’t last.
Or at the very least, I won’t remember it.
My annoyance dissipates momentarily, and I thread my hands through Eli’s crazy, sexy hair, pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him thoroughly. He sighsagainst me, a deep groan inside his chest letting me know precisely what the gesture does to him. I end the kiss, smile, and move to my closet to get dressed. Eli watches in silence as I pull on a pair of low-waist khaki cargo pants, a snug black long-sleeved spandex shirt, and my worn Vans. Strapping on my holsters around my thigh, hips, and shoulder, I slide the sharp silver blades into place. The night will hide my weapons, so no need to wear a coat over them. I redo my ponytail, pulling the band snug, and I’m ready to go. When I get downstairs, Luc is just coming inside with Chaz. Nyx is sitting in the foyer, staring at me.
“I thought you were headed home,” I say. I can tell by Nyx’s expression that I’ve hurt her feelings.
“She’s going to stay with Mama and Papa,” Luc says. “I don’t trust Valerian not to seek her out again, despite the Gullah charms protecting her place.”
I simply nod. “Good idea.”
Nyx jumps up and faces me. “Be careful tonight, okay?” she says, and pulls me into a hug. I hug her in return, but only briefly. I fear what happened earlier might repeat itself. I sense my lucidity is slipping. I really hate that.
I look at my best friend and smile. “I will. And I love ya for caring so much.”
Nyx beams. “Love you too.”
I hate that my confidence and assuredness seem sofake and put-on to me, but right now, it does. I know this other thing exists inside of me, and it grows stronger. I fear losing my loved ones. I fear losing myself.
I have no choice but to fight it.
Fight it, and fucking win.
Nyx and Luc take off on Luc’s bike. Eli and I take the Jeep. Within minutes we hit Monterey Square. I pull into the Duprés’ drive and park. Zetty and Riggs get out of Zetty’s truck. The Tibetan one-time bouncer for the Panic Room club had nearly become a newling but was also cleansed by Preacher, along with me, Seth, and Riggs. Now he’s a human with wicked tendencies. We exchange greetings and head inside.
Zetty’s eyes are on me the whole time. He’s hard not to stare at, with his unique Shiva patterns tattooed across his forehead. At the advice of Gilles, Zetty had decided to wear less attention-grabbing clothes. Out with the traditional Tibetan wear, in with pretty much all black attire. Blend in with the shadows, so to speak. His long single braid down his back still gives him that unique and exotic look. Zetty is a badass. With or without tendencies. With them, though, he’s a lethal badass. I’m glad he’s on our side.
We don’t speak. Simply bump fists as we enter the Dupré house.
I catch Riggs’s eye as I pass. He smiles. I’m surprised the prepubescent little perv doesn’t slap my ass.
He chuckles behind me. If I didn’t know any better I would swear Riggs could read my mind.
Philippe Moreau, the Duprés’ butler and all around trusted man, meets me at the door. His gaze lights over me and he gives a slight nod. “Ms. Poe. Ever so nice to see you.”
“Phil, same to ya,” I say, and it draws the slightest of grins on his usually serious mouth.
Inside, I follow the others upstairs. It’s become sort of our meeting room, along with our training room. Gilles, dressed casually in pressed khaki trousers and a white button-up shirt, stands next to Elise, in classic she-loafers, black dress pants, and a plum silk blouse that accentuates her flawless pale skin. Both bespeak old Southern charm.
“Riley,
Or at the very least, I won’t remember it.
My annoyance dissipates momentarily, and I thread my hands through Eli’s crazy, sexy hair, pull his mouth down to mine and kiss him thoroughly. He sighsagainst me, a deep groan inside his chest letting me know precisely what the gesture does to him. I end the kiss, smile, and move to my closet to get dressed. Eli watches in silence as I pull on a pair of low-waist khaki cargo pants, a snug black long-sleeved spandex shirt, and my worn Vans. Strapping on my holsters around my thigh, hips, and shoulder, I slide the sharp silver blades into place. The night will hide my weapons, so no need to wear a coat over them. I redo my ponytail, pulling the band snug, and I’m ready to go. When I get downstairs, Luc is just coming inside with Chaz. Nyx is sitting in the foyer, staring at me.
“I thought you were headed home,” I say. I can tell by Nyx’s expression that I’ve hurt her feelings.
“She’s going to stay with Mama and Papa,” Luc says. “I don’t trust Valerian not to seek her out again, despite the Gullah charms protecting her place.”
I simply nod. “Good idea.”
Nyx jumps up and faces me. “Be careful tonight, okay?” she says, and pulls me into a hug. I hug her in return, but only briefly. I fear what happened earlier might repeat itself. I sense my lucidity is slipping. I really hate that.
I look at my best friend and smile. “I will. And I love ya for caring so much.”
Nyx beams. “Love you too.”
I hate that my confidence and assuredness seem sofake and put-on to me, but right now, it does. I know this other thing exists inside of me, and it grows stronger. I fear losing my loved ones. I fear losing myself.
I have no choice but to fight it.
Fight it, and fucking win.
Nyx and Luc take off on Luc’s bike. Eli and I take the Jeep. Within minutes we hit Monterey Square. I pull into the Duprés’ drive and park. Zetty and Riggs get out of Zetty’s truck. The Tibetan one-time bouncer for the Panic Room club had nearly become a newling but was also cleansed by Preacher, along with me, Seth, and Riggs. Now he’s a human with wicked tendencies. We exchange greetings and head inside.
Zetty’s eyes are on me the whole time. He’s hard not to stare at, with his unique Shiva patterns tattooed across his forehead. At the advice of Gilles, Zetty had decided to wear less attention-grabbing clothes. Out with the traditional Tibetan wear, in with pretty much all black attire. Blend in with the shadows, so to speak. His long single braid down his back still gives him that unique and exotic look. Zetty is a badass. With or without tendencies. With them, though, he’s a lethal badass. I’m glad he’s on our side.
We don’t speak. Simply bump fists as we enter the Dupré house.
I catch Riggs’s eye as I pass. He smiles. I’m surprised the prepubescent little perv doesn’t slap my ass.
He chuckles behind me. If I didn’t know any better I would swear Riggs could read my mind.
Philippe Moreau, the Duprés’ butler and all around trusted man, meets me at the door. His gaze lights over me and he gives a slight nod. “Ms. Poe. Ever so nice to see you.”
“Phil, same to ya,” I say, and it draws the slightest of grins on his usually serious mouth.
Inside, I follow the others upstairs. It’s become sort of our meeting room, along with our training room. Gilles, dressed casually in pressed khaki trousers and a white button-up shirt, stands next to Elise, in classic she-loafers, black dress pants, and a plum silk blouse that accentuates her flawless pale skin. Both bespeak old Southern charm.
“Riley,
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