Page 17 of Queen of Vampire Hearts

She could sneak entire armies into unsuspecting realms, could appear in impenetrable fortresses, could seal off realms from reinforcements. In my head, I listed the factions who would want to kidnap or even kill my queen. I lost count somewhere in the thousands. I had to find her and keep her safe.

Elijah broke the silence, sensing my disquiet. “We got a hit from the parish DMV. She’s going by the name Serena Carmichael. I have an address for an apartment in Uptown.”

“DMV?” I asked. I was a little out of touch with most mortal terminology and technology. My castle in Romania only had the barest of modern amenities, just enough to keep me in touch with my businesses.

“Department of Motor Vehicles,” Elijah answered, holding out his phone to show me.

I would have never thought I would need to resort tomortalmeans to track her down. Yet, without them, tracking her would have taken much longer. I suppose there are some benefits to mortal technology.

I’ll find her, and this time she won’t escape.

“Go there. Monitor her house and tell me if she returns. Stay hidden. If she sees you, she’ll run.”

Elijah nodded, bowing slightly before taking off into the night.

She ran from me. I was her mate. Did she not understand the tie between us? I pinched the bridge of my nose, fighting the pounding in my skull. I recognized her, but she didn’t recognize me. As if I didn’t already have enough problems with her.

My queen was an extremely powerful witch with the ability to tear reality with a swirl of her hand, who seems to have the fun quirk of running away from me. With her magic, she could vanish into any of the million realms that existed every time I got close. She would, too. If the last two interactions with her were any indicator, she wouldn’t stick around to get to know me. Fuck, how did I get her to stay in one place long enough for her to understand her new life?

I needed help, and there was only one person in the entire city of New Orleans who might have the mystical artifacts necessary. I took off without a second thought, heading deeper into the Quarter toward the Lower Ninth Ward. The Ninth Ward had been devastated by Katrina and was the slowest to come back from the hurricane. Over a decade later, it was just returning to its former glory.

The hurricane had destroyed most of the parish. Only a single building had been untouched by the storm—a hair salon. From the exterior, it appeared no different from the dilapidated buildings surrounding it. But if you looked long enough, you would notice the variety of oddities around the structure. Like the alligator wearing a feather boa climbing the back steps or how the yellow eyes watching you from the second-story window were not exactly human. Many speculated on how it had survived the devastation, but none guessed at the thrumming power contained inside.

The slight sounds of a bell ringing echoed through the small structure when I pushed the door open. It was as if I’d dropped a bomb. Every chair was full, varying hairstyles being meticulously executed while hip-hop music blared from the speakers. All conversation stopped, and the bass was the only sound in the salon the moment the door closed behind me. Each of the hairdressers turned to face me in the doorway, their glares deadly, several of them reaching for the charms at their stations.

One of the women took a step forward. She was outrageously tall and wearing a pair of white boots and a floral dress. The hoops in her ears were large enough for me to put my fist through. She hissed at me before calling out, “Ain’t nothing for you here,leech.”

The insult made my hackles rise, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. The priestesses immediately took the small action as a threat of violence and moved to shield their clients, their charms out and ready. I took a slow breath, forcing myself to calm down and bow to show my respect. “I need to speak with Mambo.”

Unlike witches, Voodoo practitioners were mortal, requiring the aid of charms or enchantments calledgris-gris.Every millennium, a Voodoo priestess was born who would become the high priestess, or mambo. She would drain the life from the previous high priestess and become the leader of them all. Any practitioner of Voodoo could come to the mambo for protection. If you crossed one practitioner, then you crossed them all. You never, ever, ever wanted to cross the current mambo.

None of the priestesses moved or relaxed their defensive postures. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for someone to make another move. Whatever might have happened was interrupted by the sound of beads clanking together as a curtain was parted. The mambo stepped into the room, her dark brown eyes locking on me. A smile that held an evil, malicious tint spread across her flawless ebony face. I felt a momentary flash of regret for even thinking of coming here. She tilted her head at me. The beads at the ends of her tight black braids clicked together as they shifted along her back.

Marie Laveau, mambo, and Voodoo Queen smirked at the sight of me. She was always a striking woman, and often she used her beauty as a weapon, delighting when people underestimated her. They often never lived to correct the mistake.

“Mambo.”

She rolled her hips seductively as she stalked forward, like a cheetah cornering a gazelle. Her voice was husky. “Now, as I live and breathe, that cannot be Lucien Silvano coming to pay me a visit.”

As she spoke, she closed the distance between us, standing on her tiptoes to kiss both of my cheeks. It took everything in me not to recoil at her show of familiarity. The leopard-print jumpsuit showcased Marie’s curves, and her heels made her only a couple of inches shorter than me.

“It’s been too long.”Not long enough.“Unfortunately, I’m here for business, not pleasure. Can we speak? Privately?” I gestured to the back and her office with my hand, my eyes drifting pointedly to the other priestesses who were waiting with bated breath to attack.

She smiled invitingly, taking my hand to lead me back the way she’d come. I gritted my teeth to stop myself from yanking it away. Marie had always been overly familiar with me, and I’d once made the mistake of spending the night with her. She had taken it to mean that she could manipulate me with sex. There was a reason I hadn’t been back to New Orleans in the last fifty years.

I reminded myself that I needed her. As we passed together through the bead curtain into the back room, the ripple of illusion came down. A clean, modern office appeared, and when I glanced over my shoulder, the salon was also suddenly upscale.

“What can I do for you,cherie?” she asked, her accent making her words sing. She slipped into the plush white chair on the other side of her massive black marble desk. I took one of the open chairs in front of the desk, faking a casualness I didn’t feel, putting on a show for Marie. Her dark eyes watched my every move.

“I need something to bind a powerful witch.” I tried to keep my tone bored, but a tremor came through. I could only hope she hadn’t noticed. Her eyes flashed.Fuck.Marie was always looking to make a deal, and they always,always,went bad. I’d just handed her a glaring vulnerability that she could use to manipulate me.

Marie tapped her chin in thought, her long dark fingernail making the action menacing. She clicked her tongue after a moment, gesturing to the shadows. “I have just the thing.”

At the snap of her fingers, a massive anaconda slithered out from behind her, its eyes locking on me. A matching pair of silver cuffs adorned its neck. They were made of thin, flexible metal, the chain between them delicate, but even I felt the power humming from them. They were made to deceive. The snake lifted its head high enough to meet Marie’s eyes and tilted its body, depositing the bracelets on the desktop. Marie affectionately stroked and cooed to the huge reptile, giving it one last pat before it slithered its hulking body away to lurk in the darkness. Its yellow eyes remained locked on me.

“How much do I owe you?” I asked, reaching into my pocket, prepared with various charms and mystical artifacts, to exchange for the cuffs. With Marie, you paid immediately, never dealing in any form of an IOU.

“Well, I’m running a special for handsome vampire kings. These cuffs are all yours for the fantastic price of a single, tiny kiss.”

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