chapter Four
WINGING IT
STELLA watched all the guys leave Cort and Drake’s apartment with a sense of total disbelief from where she hovered by the ceiling. What the hell had happened last night? Granted, she had to admit she was grateful Cort was whisking the shrieking washboard player out of the room because Katie was about to shatter her eardrums. But the fact that Wyatt was going off in search of her, Stella, when she was right there in the room was a frustrating irony for a self-proclaimed control freak.
Never in eighty-five years of her undead life had Stella found herself trapped in bat form. Saxon did it all the time but Saxon smoked too much of the wacky weed. Stella never even drank, if you didn’t count the last two nights, and she swore once she was walking on two legs, she never was touching the stuff again.
Stiff from hanging upside down off the chandelier all night, Stella took another turn around the apartment, doing a kitchen flyby in search of blood to drink. It seemed logical to her, given the deep thirst she was feeling, that she was dehydrated, and once she had a pint, she would be able to morph back. But Cort didn’t have anything in his kitchen but a pile of mail and Victoria’s Secret catalogs. She tried not to throw up in her mouth. Sometimes it wasn’t a lot of fun being the only girl hanging with a bunch of boys—in fact, most of the time it involved a lot of eye rolling on her part. The question was why she stayed.
The real answer was she had stayed because she loved her brother. She loved New Orleans. She loved rock. And if it meant she had to organize their blood bags for them and soothe their ego-induced spats, she had.
Overcome with melancholy in the suddenly super quiet and empty apartment, Stella rested on the counter, her wings heavy. How the hell bats didn’t get tired of the damn things she didn’t know, but then again she’d frequently asked herself how men could stand walking around with testicles and yet they seemed pretty happy with them. It was just a matter of what you knew, she figured.
A snore cut through her musings.
She remembered there was a mortal guy in the bathroom. There had been a whole lot of yelling to that effect earlier. Apparently they’d left him there.
Perfect. Breakfast.
Stella flew into the bathroom and eyed the priest passed out in the bathtub. He didn’t look like a real priest. He looked too young. Too good-looking. Not that men of the cloth couldn’t be hotties, but she hadn’t seen any lately. You know, with all the time she spent in church. Stella mentally eye rolled herself. Settling on his shoulder, she went for the open ribbon of skin between his collar and neck and bit.
It had been a long time since she’d fed off a live mortal. It wasn’t really de rigueur these days in socially acceptable vampire circles. It was more for rogue types and newbies. But she had to wonder why they had ever stopped, because truth be told, it tasted divine. Salty, warm, delicious. It slid over her fangs and down her throat with satisfying ease. Though it wasn’t as good as sex with Wyatt, it was a close second, reminding her of the pure physical and emotional joy she’d gotten as a mortal child licking a stick of candy.
So good she didn’t realize that her donor had woken up from his snooze until a sharp pain hit the side of her head and she lost contact with his flesh, tumbling down onto his crotch. Yikes. Wincing as he started yelling and waving his arms, Stella was horrified to find she was morphing back. When the hell had she lost control of the ability to morph? But she clearly had, as last night and now proved. While she was grateful to be back in human form, she wasn’t loving that she was sprawled across a stranger in Cort’s bathtub.
Or that he had seen her transformation.
His eyes were huge, his breath coming in rapid little anxious bursts. His fingers inched up to his neck and when he pulled them back covered in blood from her feeding he said, “Holy shit.”
That about summed it up.
“It’s okay,” she said, in the most soothing voice she could muster. Every vampire had the ability to influence humans, but Stella’s had always been slight. She was a veritable weakling when it came to talents primarily because Johnny had turned her as a fledgling himself. It had never particularly bothered her because she had always wanted to live as normal a life as possible, but at the moment she could have used some memory wipe mojo.
Maybe he hadn’t really seen what had just happened.
“Oh, my God, you’re a vampire,” he said, gazing from the blood on his fingers to her and back again. “That is the shit.”
Or maybe he did. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Stella pushed on his very muscular chest and sat back away from him.
“You were a bat and you were biting me and OMG you just turned back into a beautiful woman vampire.”
Well, that was nice to hear considering her hair was a wreck from the wind and the dunk in the river. But it was irrelevant. “I’m not a vampire.”
“Yes, you are. Bite me, please, Dark Angel.”
Oh, no. He was tenting that priest robe, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, his hand reaching for hers. This was creepy. “I’m not going to bite you.”
“You already did.”
“No, I didn’t. There was a bat in here biting you and I came and swatted it away. It flew into the other room. I hope your rabies shot is up to date.” Stella hauled herself out of the tub and away from Boner Boy. “Who the hell are you and why are you dressed like a priest?”
It was New Orleans. There was probably a festival of some kind going on. Maybe there had been a showing in the CBC of The Exorcist or something. So truthfully, the costume didn’t really matter. What mattered was that she was now realizing that she was at Cort’s with no purse and no cell phone and Wyatt was who knew where with both.
“I’m a dancer at Bounce.”
Ah, a stripper at the gay bar. That suddenly made so much more sense, though she had to question the political correctness of his outfit. “You strip as a priest?”
“It was tarts and vicars night,” he said. “Tranny crowd. The tips aren’t as good, but hey, it’s a living. I’m Benny, and I’m straight. Who are you, besides my darkest desire?”
Stella sighed. Curses on all the vampires in pop culture. It made being turned suddenly sexy.
“I’m Stella. And you need to leave.”
Benny struggled to sit up, his erection no longer on full display, which was an improvement. “What happened last night? My head is killing me and I don’t remember anything after I left work.”
That made two of them. “I have no idea.”
“Do you think we had sex?” he asked hopefully. “Did you imprint on me?”
“No!” she snapped, losing patience with Benny, the vicar stripper. “Look, I need to go find my friend and I can’t just leave you here alone. No offense, but you need to go.”
“Is my cross bothering you?” Benny fingered the cross hanging around his neck. “It’s not real. It’s a prop.”
Was there such a thing as a fake cross? A cross was a cross. The shape never changed, no matter the material. “It doesn’t bother me. What’s bothering me is that I lost my purse and my cell phone and I want them back now.”
Ignoring her denials, Benny still tucked the cross into his robes. He flung a leg over the side of the tub and heaved himself out. “Do you need me to help you? I could totally help you. What, do you need to, like, file a police report? Were you mugged? God, it’s too bad I wasn’t with you. I would have kicked the ass of anyone who messed with you, my goddess.” He slapped a fist into his opposite palm to give force to his vow.
Stella raised an eyebrow. Being called a goddess was a first. Hopefully it was a last as well. “No, I don’t need to file a police report, but thank you. I just need to find my friend. If you wouldn’t mind lending me your phone, I’ll give him a call.”
“Sure, of course, right, absolutely.” Benny lifted his robes.
Stella’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t wearing anything but a Speedo under all that fabric and he was either hauling home a brand-new pack of tube socks in his drawers or he was hung. And then some.
Most women would have been attracted to all that hard thigh muscle and tightly packed junk, but Stella wasn’t interested. The only penis she really cared to see was Wyatt’s.
The thought gave her pause. She did? She did. Wow. That merited analysis later.
“Sorry,” Benny said with a sheepish grin as he pulled his phone out of his butt crack. “I don’t usually leave work without changing but I was going straight to a party last night and it was only two blocks up Bourbon. What the hell happened to me in two blocks? Alls I can say is I hope I had a good time.”
Stella shook her head, not at all sure she wanted to know what had happened. “I have no idea.” Gingerly taking the phone, she held it with the end of her sleeve. There was no way she was putting that up next to her face.
Hitting Speaker with her knuckle, she paused. What the hell was she going to dial? She didn’t have Wyatt’s number memorized. She didn’t have anyone’s number memorized. They were all in her phone. With Wyatt.
Not helpful. “Shit.” She hung up the phone and handed it back to Benny. “I don’t know his number.”
“You could go to his place.”
“That’s true. I could do that.” Without a purse, she didn’t have any money but Wyatt’s apartment was only ten blocks or so. Getting back to her place if Wyatt wasn’t at his was a bit more of a problem. Maybe Benny could give her a ride. “Did you drive to work?” she asked him.
“Oh, hell no. Too expensive to park and finding a spot on the street is like digging for gold in a diaper.”
Stella didn’t even know what that meant but she supposed it didn’t matter. Benny put his phone back in his sack. “So how are you getting home?”
“Cab. I live in Harahan. How about you?”
“I live uptown. Can I borrow a buck for the streetcar?” She would happily show up at Bounce and tip him when all of this was said and done.
“Sure. If you bite me again.”
Really? “No. Stop asking.”
“I want to be a vampire, too.” He flexed his muscles. “I’d never have to work out again.”
“That’s shallow. And there’s no such thing as vampires.”
“My Dark Angel, I know the truth. I’ll give you a dollar and my devotion.”
Benny was getting a weird look on his face. Stella was afraid to look at the lower portion of his robe. “Let’s just go.”
She went into the living room and almost ran into Saxon. “Ack! Saxon, what are you doing?”
He held up a tube. “I was going out looking for clues, you know, about what happened last night, but I forgot my lip balm. Can’t think with cracked lips.”
She could ignore the stupidity of that because she was happy to see him. “Where’s Wyatt?”
“Don’t know. He went looking for you. Guess he didn’t find you.” Saxon laughed, then stopped short. He grimaced as his gaze shifted behind her. “You!”
“Who, me?” Benny asked, looking behind himself.
“Yes, you! You cross-wielding freak! Dude, that was seriously not cool.”
“Uh . . .” Benny looked a little scared. “Are you a vampire, too?”
“Duh.” Saxon pulled his bangs to the side and pointed to his forehead. “Yes, crosses burn vampires.”
“Holy shit.” Stella gaped at the wound on Saxon’s smooth vampire skin. “Why hasn’t that healed? How did you get that?”
“Your little boy toy laid a crucifix on me. Totally not funny, man. Now I have to grow my bangs out forever and get a forehead tattoo. Who has a forehead tattoo? Like no one.”
“He’s not my boy toy.” Stella moved away from Benny. She’d had no idea a cross could actually hurt a vampire. That was an old wives’ tale. Maybe. But now she wasn’t taking any chances. She didn’t look good with bangs.
“How do you know it was me?” Benny asked. “I’m not the only guy in the Quarter with a cross.”
“You’re the priest.”
“Benny, you should just go,” Stella said, her head starting to pound. “Saxon, can I borrow ten bucks?”
“No can do, Stella-roo. I think I must have gone to the casino last night because all I have in my pocket is a receipt for condoms.”
What? “You always buy condoms at the casino?”
“No. Why would I do that?”
“I don’t know! Let me borrow your phone.”
“It doesn’t work. I forgot to pay my bill again.” Saxon wrinkled his nose. “I’m leaving. It smells like cheese in here. See you later.”
“If you see Wyatt, tell him to bring my purse to work tomorrow night, okay?” She supposed she could live twenty-four hours without her cell phone. Worse came to worst, she would just get it at the bar when they all showed up for their usual Thursday-night gig.
“No problemo. Catch you later.”
Saxon was gone with a wave and Stella pointed Benny toward the door. “Time to go.”
“I’m going where you go.”
“Fine.” Only because she might need to use his phone again or get that streetcar money. Not that she could get into her apartment without her key. What a total disaster.
“Can I hold your hand?” Benny asked.
She’d rather go tanning and die. “No.” Stella pulled the door to Cort’s apartment shut behind them.
“Can we stop for a daiquiri? I feel dehydrated. I think you took too much blood.”
She’d taken like a thimble’s worth, but she wasn’t about to argue with him. It made her feel a little sheepish to be strolling around with her unwitting blood donor. Though Benny unconscious was a lot more desirable than Benny awake and gazing at her in total mortal devotion.
“Sure.”
As the sounds of Bourbon Street hit her when they stepped outside, Stella sighed.
It was going to be a long night.
* * *
WYATT WAS OFFICIALLY freaking out. Stella wasn’t anywhere. No one had seen her since the night before, when he had gone out on the deck with her. Granted, no one remembered a damn thing after the wake, which was weird in and of itself, but it seemed like someone should have noticed Stella at one point or another.
Stella was noticeable. Wyatt noticed her all the time. Like every second of every night when they were at work. He even knew when she went to the restroom, that’s how constantly aware of her he was. He could tell her what T-shirts she’d worn for the last five nights and if she’d worn her hair in a ponytail or not.
But he supposed not everyone was the same way. You know. Like in a totally unrequited, pathetic crush.
Pacing in his apartment, he gripped Stella’s purse and tried not to panic. He would go ask around and see if anyone had seen her the night before. According to his phone, it was midnight, around the time everything went fuzzy in his memory the night before. He knew a lot of the bartenders, sound guys, deejays, and band members on the street, and they all knew Stella. If she had been out and about, someone who knew her might have seen her.
So he took to the street, her phone and his in opposite pockets. Maybe she’d call him. Or herself. Because that made sense. Not. But it was his only plan.
He lived on Burgundy and Conti, and as he headed toward Bourbon, he popped his head into a few local bars on the way. No one had seen Stella.
Cutting the corner close at the daiquiri shop, Wyatt glanced in, annoyed as usual at its neon flashing lights and sparkly floor. Too much stimulation for a vampire, though he supposed that hadn’t been factored into their decorating.
But he forgot all about the floor when he saw a tan, built guy in nothing but a banana hammock. Which in and of itself wouldn’t have caught his attention, because it was a common enough sight on the street, but it was who the dude had his arm around that made him stop suddenly in his tracks.
It was Stella.
A guy bumped him from behind. Wyatt barely managed a mumbled apology as he stood rooted in the doorway, shocked. Speechless. Furious.
Stella was sipping from a giant cup and talking to the bartender. The musclehead next to her stood there, his hand possessively rubbing the small of her back, his taut butt cheeks flexing in his orange Speedo as he shifted.
Wyatt felt sick. Even worse, he felt jealous. He hadn’t felt jealous in about a hundred years, and he had certainly never felt jealous of a pinhead with a waxed chest. But he could still feel Stella’s mouth on his cock and the thought of her with anyone else, especially this mortal show-off, made him see red. He needed to punch something.
He settled for taking a deep breath and calling, “Stella!”
She was already turning around, clearly sensing him. “Wyatt, oh my God, I’m so glad to see you.”
That soothed his battered ego a bit. He started toward her, eyeing the almost-naked guy as he turned around.
But then Stella followed up with, “Please tell me you have my purse and my phone.”
That was a little deflating. “Your purse is at my place. I have your phone in my pocket.”
Sighing in relief, she held her hand out. “Thanks.”
That was it? Thanks? Wyatt had been worried sick for the last three hours. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded.
Instantly, she bristled. “I was in the room with you guys the whole time. You all thought I was Saxon’s friend Bob.”
“That was you?” He’d never known Stella to morph into bat form. “Why didn’t you just come back and tell us?” He spoke in code, very aware of the mortal standing next to her. The mortal who smelled like baby oil and dried blood.
Blood? Wyatt homed in on the man’s neck. There were bite marks on him. Bite fucking marks. She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have.
“I couldn’t,” Stella said tightly. “I was stuck.”
“How do you get stuck?” Wyatt asked. Stella just wasn’t the type to get stuck in bat form. “And who is this?” He thumbed a finger at her buff sidekick, who was just standing there sucking on his drink straw. With bite marks on his neck.
“I’m Benny.”
“He’s been helping me since you all left me without any means of communication or a way to get to my apartment or into my apartment!”
She was seriously going to cop attitude with him? Wyatt was floored. “I was worried about you! I wasn’t going to just leave your purse laying on a riverboat deck. You’re never more than an inch from your purse. I thought you were kidnapped or mugged or fell off the boat or something.”
Just the thought of any of those made his shoulders tense and his skin tight, even knowing that she was safe now.
“I did.”
“Did what?”
“Fall off the boat.”
It took him a second. “You fell off the boat?” Well, that explained her leaving her stuff on the deck. She hadn’t meant to. It also explained her morphing. It didn’t explain her getting stuck or who the hell Benny was and why she had bitten him.
“After that I have no idea what happened. The night is a total blank. Then when I woke up, Benny here was in the bathtub and he let me borrow his phone but I couldn’t remember your number and I didn’t have any money.”
Wyatt eyed Benny. “You’re the priest?” He could honestly say he would have never realized this was the same guy. This dude did not look like a priest to him now that his eyes were open and his robe was missing. Maybe he’d never really looked like a priest. Wyatt had been more focused on the fact that he’d had Stella’s purse than anything else
“No. I’m a stripper who dressed like a priest for tarts and vicars night.” His hand came up and waved around. “How the h-e-double-l I wound up in your friend’s bathtub, I have no idea. The last thing I remember was leaving work. Then nothing until I opened my eyes and saw the most beautiful creature on the face of the earth.” He gazed adoringly at Stella.
Fortunately, she ignored her admirer. “Okay, so how is it possible that you, me, Benny, Saxon, Cort, and Drake all don’t have a clue what happened last night? That’s basically impossible.”
That was really strange. Something else occurred to him. “Hey, have you been to Johnny’s?”
“No, why?”
“Because I was there looking for you and the place looked like it had been tossed. I just figured you’d been there looking for the necklace.” But if she hadn’t been there, who had? The relief he’d felt at finding Stella was replaced by worry. Something was going on.
“No.” Stella bit her lip.
“Did Johnny piss anyone off lately?” Wyatt racked his brain for anything his friend might have said that would have indicated someone might be out for him. “Did he owe any money?” That might explain his suicide, too. Maybe he’d gotten himself in some kind of trouble?
But Stella shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of. He wasn’t acting any differently.”
“Who’s Johnny?” Benny asked.
Wyatt struggled not to be annoyed. “Stella’s brother. Can we give you a ride home or anything, Benny? We appreciate you helping Stella out but she and I have a few things to take care of now.”
“I don’t have time to go home, but thanks, bro. I have to be back at work for the late shift tonight, in an hour.” Benny slurped his drink. “You live in the Quarter, right? Can I grab a shower at your place?”
Wyatt wished he knew who the hell this guy was and why Stella had bitten him. He figured he had been fairly patient. Now he was expected to let the guy bathe at his house?
“Of course you can,” Stella said, shooting Wyatt a warning look. “Come on, let’s go so you’re not late.”
Apparently she expected him to just go along with it.
Apparently he was going to.
Wyatt followed Stella and Benny as they walked out of the daiquiri shop, heads bent together, whispering like a couple of middle-school girlfriends. He felt left out. Bitter. Jealous. His head was still throbbing a bit from whatever they had drunk the night before. He was starting to feel like they’d been slipped a roofie. But all of them? How was that possible?
Heading down Conti behind them, he brooded. Some might even call it pouting. But he preferred smoldering. He raised his hand in a wave to Raven, who played at the Famous Door across from them and probably was on a set break. They weren’t friends, given Raven’s odd proclivities of gathering a harem of mortal women around him and doing animal blood sacrifices. It was showy and, in Wyatt’s opinion, cruel. But Raven had never given him reason to get into it with him. They had an unspoken agreement to politely tolerate each other.
Raven had been at the wake the night before. Wyatt wondered if he remembered anything from that night. He called to Stella to hold up, then jogged across the street.
“Hey, man, what’s up? Thanks for coming last night.”
“Sure.” Raven tilted his shaved head, the dagger tattoo trailing down his cheek glowing in the neon lights of Bourbon Street. “That sucks about Johnny. Didn’t think he would do himself in, man. Still can’t believe it.”
The thought made Wyatt’s throat tighten. “Me either.” He wasn’t sure how to broach the subject, so he asked, “Did you see Stella around last night?”
Taking a drag on his cigarette, Raven shrugged. “I saw her at the wake for a minute or two. I see her now with some douche bag across the street. What’s up with that?”
Like he needed to be reminded. “I don’t know.”
“You should shorten her leash, Axelrod. I wouldn’t let any of my girlfriends disrespect me like that.”
Wyatt suddenly couldn’t remember why he thought he needed to be polite to Raven. “Stella isn’t my girlfriend.” Unfortunately. “And I don’t need your dating advice.”
Raven’s eyebrow shot up. “Hit a nerve, huh? Maybe you need to take a look at your life. Be a little more careful.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? “I’ll do that,” he told Raven wryly. “Catch you later, man.”
Pretentious prick. With a stupid tattoo.
Fast walking, he caught up to Stella and Benny.
“Are you a vampire, too?” Benny asked him as they turned onto Burgundy.
Wyatt shot Stella a sidelong look. She shook her head slightly. “No. There is no such thing as vampires.”
“Alright, play coy. I know the truth. And I’m going to convince Stella to turn me. We’re meant to be together.”
Wyatt almost lost his lunch all over the cobblestones. He would put Benny in a box and ship him to Antarctica before he let Stella cross him over. Meant to be together. Please. Benny had absolutely nothing to offer her in the way of intelligence or conversation or understanding. He knew nothing about her.
Unlike Wyatt, who had forty years of knowledge of Stella. He knew her. Knew how to make her happy.
Feeling his mood grow even stormier as they got back to his place, he was actually grateful to show Benny the bathroom and hand him a towel. He shut the door on the grin Benny was sporting across his tanned cheeks and stomped back into his living room. He tried to control his frustration but it took all of three seconds before he lost it on Stella.
“Did you actually bite that idiot?” he asked her.
She had sat down on the couch and was riffling through her purse, which he’d left on the coffee table. She shot him a look of defiance. “I was stuck in bat form. I needed to feed and it’s kind of hard to open the fridge when you have wings. Benny was there, passed out, and I seized the opportunity. It’s not my fault he woke up.”
If he were feeling rational, he would see the logic in what she was saying. But Benny had muscles Wyatt didn’t even know existed, and he wasn’t capable of letting it go. “He saw you. He wants you to turn him. Please tell me you won’t do that.”
“Now you’re just being insulting. Why would I do that? Do you honestly think I want him hanging around tonight even, let alone for eternity? You’ve lost your mind.” She slapped the flap of her purse closed, set it back down, and glared at him. “I’m just trying to make the best of a shitty situation.”
“You need to wipe his memory and get rid of him.” That was the bottom line.
“He helped me. I’m not going to just wipe his memory. No one will believe him and he doesn’t remember anything from last night either, so I feel bad for him. He’s like a sweet Labrador, you know? Somehow he got sucked into our night and God only knows what could have happened to him. Look at the washboard player. She woke up a vampire because apparently we can’t hold our liquor.”
Wyatt glanced toward the bathroom, the sound of the shower reassuring him that Benny couldn’t hear what they were saying. He felt completely indignant. Insulted. Blown off by Stella.
“I have no problem holding my liquor. I could drink your buff dog under the table.”
So there.