Page 27 of Haunted Nightmares
Hollow. Beware the hollow.
Beware the hollow.
And I have no bloody clue what that means.
“Fancy meeting you here,” I say with a smirk as I slide onto a stool at the bar inside Plasma.
Big blue eyes swing my way, widening with what I can only imagine is fear when they land on me, the blonde female nearly jumping out of her seat as I take mine.
“Didn’t mean to startle you. Quite the contrary, I came to apologize again for scaring you before.”
She nods emphatically before reaching out to take a sip of her drink. “It’s fine.”
It’s not.
I can tell she isn’t fine and after what I saw, the way this wisp of a female practically glitched in front of me, nothing about this isfine. And since leaving a rather odd interaction with Thaddeus in order to follow her here, I can’t help but think nothing is remotely close to fine anywhere, I’ve just been too self absorbed to see it.
“I don’t believe I got your name while I was terrifying you.” Holding up two fingers, I order my regular out of habit. And in an attempt to blend in since I haven’t been back to the club in any capacity in months. “I, in case you were unaware, am Wraith.”
She regards me for a long few moments before seemingly convincing herself to respond. “Iris.”
“Iris?”
“Yes.” She nods as she pushes her blonde hair behind her ear. “And I know who you are.”
“Is that so?” Playing dumb isn’t my strong suit, especially when I can tap into other peoples gray matter at will, but I’ve already noticed I can’t with this fragile looking thing and it’s fueling my growing curiosity. “Then you knew when I grabbed you that I wasn’t just another eejit on the street?”
Iris takes a longer sip of her drink before turning toward me. “I haven’t been living under a rock, everyone knows who you are.”
Fighting a grin, I take the literal Bloody Mary as it’s set in front of me and suck down half in one go, immediately regretting my decision when my stomach pitches, but I ignore it. “And where have you been living, Iris, because I don’t believe you’re from around here.”
“I am.” She chews her lip for a beat then begins fiddling with her napkin. “Not New Orleans specifically but another Parish. My family came over a few years before the war.”
Which explains why she doesn’t have the mark on her neck signifying she was born after that. “Came over from where?”
“Sweden. Stockholm.”
Lie number one.“Lovely country, fancied some time there when I was a lad. Big family?”
Iris nods as she starts tearing the thin paper into strips. “I’m the middle child, three older, four younger.”
Another lie.“Definitely big. I haven’t heard of a family that size in eons. Your parents are still in the area?”
“They live in Florida now.”
“Florida?”Lie number three. This female is as phony as Morgana’s entire appearance and if she knew who I was from the get go, Iris knows how dangerous it is to lie to me. “Enjoying the more tropical coast in their golden years?”
She nods.
“What do you do, Iris? For work, for fun. Tell me aboutyou.” Because she is easily going to turn into a fixation for me until I get to the bottom ofwhatshe is, and starting withwhois currently my only way of entertaining it.
“Uhm…” Iris looks around the bar briefly, obviously uncomfortable and looking for a way out of this and when I follow her movements only to seeNatemarching toward us, she sighs. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to be going.”
“Pity,” I growl as tall, dark, and douchey stops and inserts himself between us. “Things were just getting interesting.”
“Is he bothering you again?” The male who’s too big for his britches glares in my face. “He didn’t touch you, did he?”
The fanning of blonde hair on either side of his wide shoulders is the only indication of her response before Iris slides off the stool and comes to stand at his side. “We were just talking, Nate. It’s fine.”
