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Erik lets out a deep, irritated groan. “Please make sure the room has two beds. Or at least, a couch.”
I look at Jesse just in time to see his mouth twitch, but he recovers quickly and nods at Erik. “The room I booked for you and Leif has two queens.”
“Oh, come on, Viking. What if I have a nightmare? Would you hold me until I fell back asleep?” Steph asks, her voice filled with lust.
“Do not make me change my mind, witch.”
Steph huffs and leans back in her seat, but I can still see the mischievous sparkle in her eyes. I shake my head and lean back against Jesse’s chest. Poor Erik. He has no idea what he’s in for, but I won’t discourage him from protecting my friend.
When the plane lands, I see a few airport employees push a portable staircase toward the exit door. The single flight attendant opens the door, and a gust of sultry, sea-scented air rushes through the cabin.
Jesse stands and pulls me to my feet, which I slip into the slip-on shoes I left on the floor when we sat down. We head for the exit with the others following behind. The pilot exits the cockpit as we approach, shaking hands with each of us as we thank him for a nice flight. He assures us the flight staff will have our luggage sent directly to the hotel, and there’s a car on the runway waiting to transport us wherever we wish to go.
That little tidbit shocks me, at first, but when I step out of the plane, I realize we’re not at a commercial airport. We’ve landed on what appears to be a private airstrip, and there is, indeed, a stretch limo idling nearby.
“Where are we?” Steph asks once we’re all on solid ground.
The asphalt is hot under the southern sun, and the humidity is thick enough to cut with a knife. I take a deep, albeit unnecessary breath and soak it all in. It feels like Georgia. It feels like home.
I stiffen at the thought. Georgia really isn’t home anymore, is it? There’s no way I’m moving back to my apartment without Jesse in tow, and as king, he needs to be in Los Angeles. At the manor.
“This is a private landing strip. The owners gave us permission to use it with a little…financial encouragement,” Jesse says, interrupting my thoughts. “It’s safer than travelling to a public airport. We have some anonymity this way.”
I hear what he’s not saying. The witches in this area may monitor flights coming into the city. If they were to catch wind of our arrival, they could take immediate steps to hinder us in our search for answers.
We climb into the car, and Steph squeals when she finds an open bottle of champagne chilling in a built-in ice bucket. Pouring herself a glass, she offers it up to the rest of us. Erik grunts a denial, and Leif shakes his head. When Steph turns to me, I cock an eyebrow at her. She stares at me for a moment before recognition fills her expression, and she laughs.
“Right. Vampires. Oh, well. More for me!”
I stare through the window as we drive down a single-lane dirt road for a couple of miles. The area is dense with foliage and large trees which thin out as we approach a paved highway. As we turn right onto it, I can see the faint outline of buildings in the distance.
Steph stares out her own window on the opposite side, fawning over the view as Erik sits beside her, his eyes firmly trained on his hands in his lap. I watch him for a moment, wondering why his knuckles are white with tension. Is he really so annoyed by Steph’s ramblings? Or is he fighting an internal battle, refusing to give into the temptation she presents?
I wish I could sense his emotions like Jesse can. I’ll have to ask him about it later. See if he’s picked anything up.
Before we know it, the limo is traversing the city streets of New Orleans. The place is colorful and bright, yet some of the destruction from past hurricanes still remains, serving as a painful reminder of everything the city has lost. When we reach the Quarter, I turn my attention to the people milling along the sidewalks. Could anyone here be related to me? Did my parents come back here after abandoning me in Georgia? Could I have a sibling or two? Aunts? Uncles? Cousins?
Jesse’s hand curls around mine, his tight grip grounding me before I spiral completely out of control. I squeeze him back, offering him a small smile in return for his comfort. I look around the car, feeling my confidence return.
This is my family. I don’t need the acceptance of people who didn’t want to raise me, themselves. Who left me––a defenseless infant––on the cold staircase of an empty church where I waited several hours to be discovered.
When we arrive at the hotel, a quaint two-story with balconies all the way around the exterior, the Viking twins bustle us inside when Steph and I try to gawk at our surroundings. We hover in the lobby while Jesse goes to the desk to check us in.
“This place is amazing,” Steph breathes as she studies the crystal chandeliers and the murals painted on the walls.
“We’re on the second floor,” Jesse says as he steps in beside me. “Our luggage has arrived, and the bellhop is taking it up to our rooms for us.”
Steph shoots Erik a lecherous look, then links her arm through his. “Come on. Let’s go check out our room, big guy.”
Leif covers a laugh with a cough at Erik’s sigh of impatience, and Jesse and I share matching grins as we follow them up the stairs to the second floor. When Jesse opens the door to our room, I step inside, taking in the opulence of the place.
Thick, plush carpet silences my footsteps as a chandelier like the ones downstairs casts a kaleidoscope of rainbow colors against the heather green walls. A huge bed sits to my right, but I pass it as I head straight for the French doors that lead to our private veranda.
Stepping outside, I take in the view. The street is lined with buildings much like ours, and the sidewalks before them are crowded with bustling tourists. People sit at bistro tables in enclosed patios, eating and drinking and chatting amongst themselves. A cacophony of voices reaches my ears, and I make a game of trying to pick out individual conversations so the dull roar doesn’t overwhelm me.
I take a deep breath through my nose, and the scents of creole seasoning, seafood, and fried dough bombard me. I even get a whiff of the powdered sugar coating the fried beignets, and while it doesn’t make my stomach grumble with hunger like it might’ve when I was human, I can still appreciate the divine scent.
My phone chimes in my pocket just as Jesse joins me on the balcony. “Our luggage arrived, and I got us unpacked.”
