She held out her hand, and I didn’t hesitate to take it as we made a silent pact, and a small sliver of hope bloomed inside of me that we might actually have a chance.
29
BROGAN
Iwoke with a start, my senses immediately alerting me to the empty space beside me. Esme's warmth, her scent, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat—all gone. Panic gripped my chest as I ran my hand over the indentation her body had left in the sheets. Her side of the bed was cold, and for a moment I wondered if I'd dreamt the whole thing. Grabbing the pillow beside me, I shoved my face into it and inhaled deeply, catching the lingering notes of her scent.
Not a dream, then.
"Esme?"
Sliding out of bed naked as the day I was human born, I walked to the door and cracked it open. Across the hall, the bathroom door was wide open and the light was off. Sticking my head out farther, I listened to the rest of the house, but other than Dae and Elias snoring in their separate rooms, Lizzy's steady heartbeat, Wiggles’ snores, and Killian’s light breathing, the house was quiet.
I hurriedly threw on some clothes, not even bothering to check if they were clean. The only thing on my mind was finding Esme. I tracked her scent through the quiet house, my bare feet padding silently across the hardwood floors. When I reached the back door, her trail continued outside. I didn't pause to grab a jacket or shoes, despite the chill in the night air. My instincts told me to hurry. To get to her.
As I closed the door softly behind me, I inhaled deep, but her scent was gone, lost on the breeze that whispered through the courtyard. A mixture of panic that she would sneak off by herself, sorrow that she still didn't trust me enough to wake me up, and fuckingfurythat she'd put herself in danger made my fangs punch through my gums before I could control my reaction. My upper lip lifted in a snarl and my throat burned with the sudden thirst to have my mate in my arms where she was safe, my fangs locked deep in her throat. The pavement chilled my bare feet, but I barely noticed—all my senses straining to pick up any trace of Esme. My fingers curled into fists at my sides as I fought against the primal urge to tear through the darkness, ripping apart the city until I found her.
I should’ve gotten her oath that she would stay at the house, where it was safe.
Closing my eyes, I listened again. Not with my ears this time, but with the blood flowing through my veins. I listened for the call of my own blood. I listened for the call of my mate's blood.
It only took a few seconds to feel the pull.
I followed it, moving through the pre-dawn streets of New Orleans like nothing more than a shadow. The only humans outside were the trash collectors and a middle-aged woman carrying supplies into a small bakery to prepare for the morning rush, but I was there and gone with the slightest flicker of the streetlights.
The connection between Esme and me pulsed stronger with every step, guiding me like a compass needle to its true north. I didn't need to think about where I was going—my feet carried me forward, driven by instinct and the deep-seated need to find my mate.
The cemetery gates loomed ahead, dark and foreboding in the moonlight. Honestly, I wasn't surprised to be here again. Of course, she'd come back to this place, where the veil between worlds felt thin and magic practically crackled in the air.
I heard Esme’s voice, and she wasn’t alone.
The old iron bars creaked slightly as I slipped inside, moving with preternatural stealth, careful not to make a sound that would betray my presence since I didn’t know what I was walking into. The sweet, spicy scent of Esme’s blood hung heavy in the cool night air, mixed with the waxy aroma of recently extinguished candles and that same strange, ancient scent of unfamiliar magic I'd smelled at Lizzy’s shop.
Staying low, I crept between the rows of tombs, following the soft murmur of voices until I spotted her. Esme and Alice Moss stood facing each other between two mausoleums, their figures illuminated by the pale moonlight filtering through the tombs. Remnants of magic floated in the air, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Why the hell was Esme sneaking out to meet with Alice? I ducked behind a weeping stone angel, listening to their hushed conversation without revealing my presence.
"—haven't told them," Alice was saying, her voice barely above a whisper. "Judy would never understand."
"She's going to find out," Esme told her. "Marcus will make sure of that."
"I know. But this is our best chance."
My blood ran cold, the mention of Marcus's name setting off alarm bells in my head. I pressed myself against the cold stone of the tomb, barely noticing the rough texture biting into my back through the thin material of my shirt.
"Tomorrow night then," Esme said. "I'll meet you at the place we discussed."
"Yes. And Esme? Be careful who you trust with this information."
Esme gave her a solemn nod. "I understand. You, too."
I was about to step out from behind the statue and make my presence known when my skin prickled uncomfortably. Glancing up at the sky, I cursed under my breath as the first rays of dawn threatened the horizon.
With one last, frustrated look in Esme’s direction, I ran from the cemetery and raced back to the house, dodging the humans on their way to get coffee and beignets before work.
Fuck me.
The sun fuckinghurt.
