Page 18 of Whispers in the Quarter

“Lucas is...” she pauses, and I catch something soft in her expression when she looks his way. “Complicated.”

“Like a jazz fusion piece in 7/8 time,” I agree, unable to help my grin. “All brilliant chaos and barely contained explosion. Must make for some interesting harmonies between you two.”

She actually blushes, and damn if it isn’t the prettiest thing I’ve seen all night. “You have no idea.”

“Oh, I think I’m getting the picture.” I lift my trumpet, winking at her. “Now, how about we give your alibi some solid backup vocals?”

The first notes ofMidnight in New Orleansfill the air, and Evangeline settles at the edge of the stage like she belongs there. Like this is just another night, just another show, just another dance between danger and desire.

But I see the way Lucas watches her from the bar, all possessive brilliance and protective insanity. I catch how Marcus lingers by the door, his suspicion a sour note in our careful composition. And I feel the weight of whatever happened at Beaumont’s benefit hanging over us all like a storm about to break.

I pour everything into my solo—every bit of smooth charm and easy grace I can muster. The crowd sways, entranced, while Marcus finally slinks away. But the real show is the one playing out between my Melody and her mad scientist.

Lucas has moved closer to the stage, his eyes fever-bright as they follow her every movement. When she sways to my music, his fingers twitch like he’s conducting an invisible experiment. When other men look her way, his smile turns positively homicidal. It’s the most entertaining train wreck I’ve ever had the pleasure of scoring.

I transition intoThe Way You Look Tonight, but slower, darker—more seduction than standard. Evangeline catches my meaning and plays her part perfectly, looking for all the world like a woman who’s been here all evening, lost in the music.

“You’re enjoying this,” she accuses during a brief break between sets, her voice warm with amusement.

“Now, Melody,” I drawl, watching Lucas’s eye twitch at the nickname, “what kind of musician would I be if I didn’t enjoy a good performance?” I lean in close, ostensibly to adjust my mic stand. “Though I gotta say, you and the doc make for one hell of a duet. All that brilliant darkness recognizing its own kind.”

She glances at Lucas, and I catch something in her expression—a harmony I hadn’t expected. “He’s...”

“Completely unhinged?” I offer helpfully. “Brilliantly unstable? Homicidally devoted?”

“All of the above,” she admits with a small smile.

“And you love it,” I observe, keeping my voice light but knowing. “The way he looks at you like you’re his favorite experiment and greatest obsession all rolled into one.”

The blush that colors her cheeks is answer enough. From his spot by the stage, Lucas’s manic grin suggests he’s plotting at least three different ways to make me disappear in his lab. But there’s also something else there—a reluctant recognition thatmaybe, just maybe, our little trio could make some beautiful music together.

“Last song of the night,” I announce to the crowd, lifting my trumpet. “This one’s for all the complicated lovers out there.”

The opening notes ofMy Funny Valentinefill the air, but I give it an edge—something darker, more dangerous. A love song for monsters and madmen, for brilliant killers and the chaos they create together.

Evangeline’s eyes close as she listens, and Lucas watches her with that intense mix of scientific fascination and raw possession that seems to be his natural state. They’re an equation I never expected to solve, but somehow it works—her deadly grace and his unhinged brilliance, with maybe just a touch of my smooth jazz to round out the sound.

As the final notes fade away, I know three things for certain:

One: Whatever went down at Beaumont’s benefit was just the opening number.

Two: Marcus is going to be a problem we’ll need to handle soon.

And three: I’ve just signed up to play backup in the most dangerous band in New Orleans.

But watching Evangeline—my Melody—move through the dispersing crowd to where Lucas waits with barely contained chaos, I can’t bring myself to regret it. Some songs are worth the risk, and this one promises to be the performance of a lifetime.

“Goodnight, sugar,” I call after her. “Try not to create too much beautiful chaos together.”

Lucas’s laugh carries that edge of brilliant madness, while Evangeline shoots me a smile that’s pure temptation. As they disappear into the New Orleans night, I start packing up my trumpet, humming under my breath.

This is definitely going to be one hell of a show.

7

EVANGELINE

ANONYMOUS TIP—RECEIVED BY NOPD RE: Spotted Cat Regular

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