“I’m just feeling quite alone," I started, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I don't have anyone else to talk to."
He kept walking. "No friends?"
“Only you," I told him with a shaky smile.
"What about your family?" He glanced down at me.
A lie was on the tip of my tongue, but then I decided what the hell. I was out of time. "My family…they were killed. All of them. My parents. My brother. And I…" I had to take a moment before I could get the words out. "I was there. I saw it happen."
Brogan's arm tightened around my shoulders, and I felt the weight of his stare on my profile as his steps faltered. He watched me for a long time before he spoke again. "I'm so sorry, darlin'."
Unable to speak past the knot in my throat, I nodded, fighting back tears as we started walking again. It was a while before I got my voice back. "It was a fire. And it happened recently. Shortly before I came here, actually. And I...I needed to not be alone tonight.” I paused, thinking. Thinking too much. Too fast. And then I blurted, "Brogan, I think you might be able to help me."
Although his steps didn't falter this time, I felt him tense beside me. "Help you? How?"
I looked up at him, meeting his green eyes directly. "I know this might sound crazy, but the fire wasn't an accident. And the thing that started it, the thing that killed my family...it wasn't human."
Brogan's face remained impassive, but something flickered in his eyes before he faced forward again. Caution? Fear? I couldn't be sure.
"What do you mean, not human?" he asked carefully.
I swallowed hard. "It was...a man. But not a man. Its name is Marcus. And it can do things...impossible things."
I watched his reaction closely, looking for any sign that he understood what I was talking about. "I know how it sounds," I continued before he could say anything. "But I also know what I saw. And I think it might be after me now." True fear made my blood run cold, and I shivered despite the heat radiating off his body. "And it's here. In New Orleans." I stopped walking, stepping out from underneath his arm to face him. "I need help, Brogan."
One eyebrow went up. "And you think I can help you?"
"Yes."
He looked at me like I was crazy. "Why the hell would you think something like that?"
"Because I know what you are."
He stared at me for a long moment, his usual teasing manner nowhere to be found. "And what is that?"
I took a deep breath, filling my lungs.
Here we go. The moment of truth. "You're a vampire, are you not?"
6
BROGAN
My entire fucking body went cold.
How the hell did she know? Had I slipped up somewhere? Given something away when she kissed me? Accidentally showed my fangs? If she saw them, why hadn't she said anything then?
All of these thoughts and more flashed through my mind at vamp speed in the matter of a second. Then my eyes narrowed. Was she just bluffing? I mean, I did work in a strip club called The Purple Fang. And Elias wasn't shy about flashing his fangs at everyone from behind the bar. And sometimes Dae did the same on stage. And we were in New Orleans. Everyone knew vampires lived in New Orleans. At least on television. And maybe Esme wasn’t as sane as she seemed to be.
Or maybe she just saw entirely too fucking much.
I stared straight at her and lied through my very obvious teeth that were trying to make themselves known, being careful that said teeth didn't show. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Then I started walking again, putting some distance between us, hiding the fact that at the mere mention of that thing trying to hurt her, my fangs—aching to rip out that bastard's throat—had gotten a mind of their own, and their untimely appearance sure as hell wouldn’t help me convince her I wasn't a vampire. Which was exactly what I needed to do. For her safety, as well as my own.
My head said to get away, to do whatever I had to do to protect my coven. Which meant I needed to get Esme back to her place, go home, and tell Killian and the others that Marcus was back. I lengthened my stride, turning the corner to head back to do just that. But when she rushed ahead of me, skidded to a stop and held her ground, her eyes filled with such raw fear and desperation, I had no choice but to stop or knock her down. I couldn’t bring myself to walk around her. I couldn't get my feet to move. Every single fucking instinct I hadscreamedat me to protecther. Not the coven.
"Please don't lie to me." She reached for my arm, but I jerked away, making a last-ditch effort to keep up the show. "I've been watching you," she told me. "The way you move, how your eyes glow sometimes when the lights hit them just right. You take those women into the back room?—"
