Shaking her head, she hid her amusement as she addressed her team, “Who’s up for a road trip to New Orleans?”
∞∞∞
“I can’t believe we’re headed to The Big Easy,” Kane said with a grin as he lounged back in the driver’s seat, one wrist casually balanced on top of the steering wheel as they sped down the interstate. “The jazz. The food. I’m psyched.”
Having dropped off Gibson with his Born and collected their earnings with minimal argument, Morgan’s team was once again on the road in their custom-built SUV that included a partition and heavy tinting in the rear section as traveling at night for a Hunter wasn’t always feasible and while sunlight to her and Kane was no big deal, it was extremely detrimental to Jamie as well as any of their captured bounties.
Of course not every Hunter team had a Born, much less two who could drive during daylight hours. Many teams were comprised of Turned vampires. Typically former soldiers or humans with martial skillsets, chosen specifically to be Turned for the Hunter Society. Those teams usually relied heavily on air travel, to the extent where it made sense to have a pilot on the team. Morgan, however, hated flying. She couldn't stand to be helpless in a metal tube, so far above the ground with zero control over the situation.
“Gumbo, jambalaya, po-boys,” Kane continued, still thinking with his stomach.
“Let’s not forget the job,” Morgan reminded him, grimacing at her phone clutched in her hand. She’d lied to Jourdain – sort of. Hunters didn’t actually need permission to enter a territory like other Born, a rule established to keep a Born from any given territory providing safe harbor to a runaway or claiming one of the runaways as their own by forbidding a Hunter’s entry. Hunters did, however, need to alert the Born that they would be in the territory for a job and Morgan was somewhat dreading making that call. Unlike most of the US territory holders of which she had some sort of working relationship, Olivier Rodolfo was someone with which she had rarely spoken and had never met. She knew the Born only by reputation and that reputation was not exactly one of cordiality.
“Kane’s going to eat his way through town, just you wait and see,” Jamie mumbled from the back. “He’ll be utterly useless unless you need him to taste test something.”
“Truth,” was Kane’s reply followed by a loud bark of laughter.
Unable to share her team’s amusement at the moment, Morgan rolled her shoulders to ease the tension in her muscles and connected the call she didn’t want to make. Better to just rip the bandage off than sit there and stew.
“I have a Hunter calling me. How very intriguing,” Olivier Rodolfo practically purred in the Parisian accent he had apparently never abandoned despite his many centuries having control of a deep south state. “Do not tell me that some naughty vampire has decided to cross my borders.”
And now to see just how well Destin Jourdain knew the Born with whom he shared territory – though tolerated may be the better word. “Mister Rodolfo. My team and I were hoping we might vacation for a few days in your beautiful state. Things have been quiet and we’ve heard such wonderful things about Louisiana and particularly, New Orleans.”
“Ah, indeed,” Olivier replied, his tone rife with smug satisfaction.“It would be an honor to host a Hunter of such distinction, Mademoiselle Rhys and show you my territory. You and your team will, of course, stay at my villa to ensure you benefit fully from the experience.”
Well, shit. Morgan hadn’t been expecting that. In hindsight, she should have. Rodolfo ruled with an iron fist and his offer wasn’t so much one of hospitality but wanting to keep an unknown vampire contingent under his watchful eye while they were in his domain. Most likely he would set his people to following them while they were in town as well. Just what they didn’t need.
“We wouldn’t want to impose,” Morgan demurred. “While a hotel recommendation would be lovely, anything more than that is unnecessary. My team and I have simple tastes and enjoy simple pleasures. You won’t even know we’re there,” she assured him hoping he would relent.
He didn’t. No surprise there. “Nonsense. I’ll have your rooms prepared. When should we expect you?”
Rock, meet hard place. If she argued further, Rodolfo was likely to take offense and possibly ban them from entering his territory which he’d be perfectly within his rights to do since she’d already informed him they weren’t coming in under official business. Or, he’d grow suspicious to the reasons why they would wish to decline such a generous offer and watch her team even closer once they were there.
Pasting a smile on her face in hopes that it would convey pleasure in her voice rather than the dread that had settled in her stomach, Morgan accepted defeat. “We thank you, Monsieur and look forward to meeting our esteemed host.”
With a few more pleasantries exchanged, Morgan gave Rodolfo their estimated time of arrival, disconnected the call, sat back in her seat with a tired sigh, and informed her team, “We have a wrinkle.”
Chapter Four
The team couldn’t resist taking a stroll down iconic Bourbon Street before checking in with Rodolfo at his Garden District villa. “Oh, yeah. This is the shit,” Kane announced, turning to walk backward in front of Morgan and Jamie, raising his arms above his head, his torso swaying to the rhythm the street musicians were providing. Horns, guitars, a drumbeat banged out on overturned buckets. Morgan had to admit that the sound immediately loosened one’s gait, put a spring in your step, and added a smile to your face.
“Do you smell that?” Kane asked, stopping abruptly, his nose raised to sniff the air.
“See? Not even ten minutes and his stomach is already leading the way,” Jamie said around an amused chuckle.
“You should talk,” Kane returned. “The first thing out of your mouth when you got out of the car was that you couldn’t wait to try a beignet.”
“There’ll be plenty of time to eat,” Morgan added, feeling like a mother attempting to corral her children.
They barely made it another ten feet before Kane was ducking into one of the eating establishments with the proclamation that he was famished and couldn’t possibly go farther until he’d had something to eat. While the statement had been met with eye-rolls from both women, they hadn’t argued, but, as the place was currently quite packed with people, Morgan and Jamie had chosen to wait outside and continue reveling in the festive atmosphere of the street rather than deal with the tight press of bodies.
“I wish we could have been here during Mardi Gras,” Jamie wistfully proclaimed as she looked around. “Can you imagine?”
Morgan barely heard her, her senses firing to life in a powerful surge that stole her breath, her blood suddenly humming through her veins with an awareness she’d never before experienced. Sharpening her gaze, she looked around in an attempt to find the source. Blocking out the music, the joyful shouts of passersby, and the smell of fried food, she focused on that tingling rush. Without a word, she stepped away from Jamie and moved quickly through the milling herd of people, needing to follow where this heretofore hidden sense was leading her. What was it? Where was it?
Thewhatturned out to be a man, balancing on the balls of his feet as he crouched before a little girl that was holding hands with a beaming woman who was most likely the child’s mother. It was a sweet scene, charmingly familial, and while the man was incredibly handsome with his rumpled golden-brown hair, chiseled jaw, and muscular body in a basic white T-shirt and faded blue jeans, none of that explained why her senses had gone haywire enough to lead her straight to him. He wasn’t a vampire, and while the sensation was similar to what she felt in the presence of predatory shifters – though amplified by what felt like a thousand – her nose wasn’t picking up the scent of fur. As far as she could tell, the man and his little family were completely human, mortal, and absolutely nothing that should have had her neck prickling in warning while her fangs suddenly elongated as her mouth salivated with an intense blood-hunger despite having recently fed. Shit. Ducking her head, Morgan forced herself away from the man before she succumbed to what could only be described as temporary insanity.
“Hey. Are you okay?”
