Page 17 of Whispers in the Quarter

“Terribly charming,” I correct, reaching out to brush an imaginary speck from her shoulder. Just to see what happens.

What happens is Lucas materializes at our table like someone conjured him with a particularly unstable chemical reaction. “Everything alright here, my Chimera?” His smile shows too many teeth, and his bow tie has come slightly undone, giving him that mad scientist edge that makes most folks nervous. And there is a slight sheen to his brown skin.

“Just fine, Doctor,” I drawl, not moving my hand. “Melody and I were discussing music theory. You know, harmony, rhythm...” I let my grin turn wicked, “chemistry.”

Lucas’s laugh has a manic edge that would send smarter men running. Good thing I’ve never claimed to be smart. “Chemistry, indeed. Though perhaps we should discuss explosive reactions and volatile compounds?”

“Boys,” Evangeline interrupts, but I catch the way her eyes dance between us, amused and maybe a little flattered. “Play nice.”

“Oh, but my dear Melody,” I purr, enjoying the way Lucas twitches at my use of her nickname, “where’s the fun in that?”

Before Lucas can respond with what I’m sure would be a fascinatingly unstable comeback, I catch a sour note in the room’s rhythm. Marcus “The Shark” Sullivan, cutting through the crowd like a wrong chord in a love song. And he’s moving straight for our complicated little trio.

I shift seamlessly into a different tune, letting my posture loosen, my smile turn lazy. Lucas, bless his brilliant, unbalanced heart, looks ready to commit murder with whatever’s in his pocket—knowing him, probably something exotic and untraceable.

“Incoming,” I murmur, just loud enough for our table to hear. “Marcus Sullivan, and he’s looking mighty interested in our Melody here.”

Evangeline’s transformation is subtle—if you weren’t watching for it, you’d miss it entirely. But I’ve got an eye for these things, and the way she adjusts her body language, her expression, it’s like watching a skilled musician switch instruments mid-song.

“Jazz, my man,” Marcus grins as he approaches, all teeth and no soul. “Killer set tonight. And Dr. Gautier, didn’t expect to see you slumming it with the jazz crowd.”

“Oh, you know me,” Lucas’s laugh has that edge that makes my skin crawl in the best way. “Always seeking new experimental environments. The effects of musical vibrations on cellular degradation are absolutely fascinating.”

Marcus blinks, clearly trying to decide if that’s a threat. His eyes land on Evangeline, and I feel my muscles tense. “And who might this lovely lady be?”

“This is Eva,” I say smooth as silk, letting my arm drape casually across the back of her chair. Protective, possessive, but in a completely different key than Lucas’s intensity. “Old friend from my Julliard days. Just in town for the night, aren’t you, sugar?”

Evangeline plays along perfectly, leaning slightly into my space like we’re old lovers sharing a secret. “Jazz always did know how to show a girl a good time.”

The way Lucas’s eyes darken at our little performance is downright delicious. Man looks like he’s cataloging all the interesting ways he could make me disappear in his lab. But he holds his peace, which tells me he’s sharp enough to read the danger in the air.

“Funny,” Marcus says, that shark smile never wavering. “You look awful familiar. Almost like someone I saw earlier tonight at the Beaumont benefit. Though she was blonde...”

“Oh, I just have one of those faces,” Evangeline laughs, the sound like honey over broken glass. “Though I’m flattered you think I could pull off blonde.”

I feel her tiny shiver at Marcus’s mention of Beaumont, and suddenly our playful game has stakes higher than a riverboat poker match. Whatever went down at that benefit, Marcus is too close to the truth for comfort.

Time to change the tune.

“Speaking of faces,” I say, standing to grab my trumpet from its case, “how about I play that song you requested earlier, Eva darlin’? The one about mistaken identities and midnight rendezvous?”

Her eyes meet mine, catching the lifeline. “You know I can never resist when you play for me, Jazz.”

Lucas, bless his psychotic soul, picks up the rhythm of our improvised tune. “Ah yes, the piece you were telling me about earlier. The one with such... fascinating chemical properties.” His smile is pure madness and warning. “The resonance frequencies can have such unexpected effects on the human nervous system.”

Marcus’s eyes narrow, but I’m already moving toward the stage, pulling Evangeline with me. “Can’t keep a lady waiting, gentlemen. Marcus, always a pleasure. Doc, try not to blow anything up while I’m gone.”

As we weave through the crowd, I feel Marcus’s gaze on us like a wrong note hanging in the air. Behind us, Lucas has shifted to block his view, probably while describing some terrifyingly specific chemical reaction that could definitely be interpreted as a threat.

“You’re playing a dangerous song tonight, Melody,” I murmur against her ear as we reach the stage. “Beaumont’s benefit, hmm? That wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with the news I heard about him taking suddenly ill?”

She tenses against me. “Jazz...”

“Hey now,” I pull back just enough to meet her eyes, keeping our dance looking natural to anyone watching. “I’m not judging the tune, sugar. Just wondering if you need more than one instrument in your band.”

A genuine smile touches her lips. “Are you offering to be part of my rhythm section?”

“Darlin’, I’m offering to be whatever section you need.” I trail my fingers down her arm, noting how Lucas’s manic energy spikes visibly at the bar. “Though your mad scientist over there might have some thoughts about new additions to the ensemble.”

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