“No love potion, right?”
“No. It’s a shielding potion. For protection.”
I sniff it. “Smells like strawberries.” I take a sip and smile in surprise. “Wow, it’s like a milkshake.”
“Helps it go down easier,” she says with a wink. “Come back tomorrow, and I’ll make you another.”
“I’ll gain ten pounds.” I take another sip. “But I don’t think I care. Wait, can you just do some kind of spell to take the calories out?”
“Sorry.” She giggles and drinks the rest of the drink herself. “If I could do that, I’d be super-rich.”
I finish my drink, and after I help Millie wash my glass and tidy up from the impromptu beverage, I wave goodbye to her.
“Be careful,” she says before closing the door.
I’m always careful.
I take the same path from her place to mine, every single time. So far, I haven’t seen any shadows on this route, and that makes me happy. The bars and clubs are hopping, full of tourists drinking and dancing. The French Quarter hums with energy, no matter the time of day.
I glance to my right just before I cross the street that leads several more blocks to where my apartment is, and am surprised to see Cash standing on the sidewalk, leaning against a pole.
“Are you following me?” I ask.
“No, ma’am,” he says with an easy smile. “It seems I’m just destined to run into you. Can’t say that I mind.”
I smile back at him, regretting the way I brushed him off earlier.
“Well, then, perhaps I’ll run into you again.”
“I do hope so.” He winks, and I hurry along to my apartment.
I round the corner of my block and stop in my tracks.
“Who are you?”
There’s no answer, but I know it’s the same shadow from the sidewalk and from Millie’s café.
No shadows have ever followed me before.
Why now?Chapter Two“Where do you think you’re going?”- Ted BundyShe’s perfect.
He’s been looking for the right one. It’s been a few weeks since he last took someone, and he finally got rid of that toy this morning. Having just one subject at a time isn’t really his style.
He likes having several girls in his lair at once. They talk to each other. They conspire. Hearing their chorus of pleas, their cries, gives him great joy. It arouses him far more than sex ever could. Women aren’t to be used as sexual partners.
They’re his prey.
They think they can escape him. Go back to their pathetic little lives.
Why are women so fucking stupid? Don’t they know he has something far better waiting for them?
He grins as he watches from his usual spot under the streetlight. His shoulder leans against the pole as he watches Brielle finish up her nightly tour.
He comes every night.
She’s never seen him.
He’ll have to teach her to be more careful. More watchful. Bad things could happen to her, and he needs her whole, so she’s hale and hearty and ready for what he has planned for her.
But that’s for later. Right now, he needs someone new. Someone fresh.
And he’s looking right at her.
“I’m Tammy. I just loved all of the stories. It’s so fascinating.”
Well, hello, Tammy.
She could be a mirror image of Brielle.
And that just can’t be, can it?
Brielle finishes talking with Tammy, then moves to take more questions. He approaches the young woman.
“I just heard you ask about the LaLaurie mansion.”
She turns to him with wide, blue eyes. Oh, yes, she’s perfect. Those eyes with the dark hair. She’s the right height, too.
Tonight’s going to be fun.
“Yes, do you know more?” she asks.
“I know plenty, and I have a friend who can give us a private tour,” he replies kindly. “In fact, we can go back there now, if you like.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Tammy says, looking around. “I came with friends, and they’ll be pissed if I ditch them.”
“You’ll be back here before you know it,” he lies easily. “Don’t you worry.”
She bites her lip, considering her options, but curiosity gets the best of her, and she nods.
“All right, then. But I have to hurry.”
“No problem. Come with me.”
He’s always calm, and this is no different. He guides her through the crowds of the French Quarter and down the street toward the house she’s so interested in.
But instead of approaching the door to knock, he turns to his car.
“Aren’t we going inside?”
“I just have to call first since they’re not expecting me.”
“Oh, right.” She offers him a tentative smile and nods. “That makes sense.”
He can see the nerves starting to set in. She’s wondering if she made the right choice.
Before she can flee, he reaches for the syringe he has ready, resting in the cupholder of the front seat. She doesn’t see it coming when he turns swiftly and jabs the needle into her arm. Within seconds, she’s drooping against him.
“Too much to drink tonight, darlin’,” he says with a smile and guides her into the backseat. “Let’s go sober you up. You don’t want to miss the fun.”