The Fangover (20 page)

Yeah, this was definitely an unfortunate situation she was in.

She looked around her again. The streets were quieter down this way, nearly empty at this time of night. Even a little bit eerie, because they were so empty.

Although she quickly realized she wasn’t totally alone. Across the street and down a little ways, standing in a doorway, was a dark figure. Tall, almost unnaturally thin. She got the feeling it was male, and definitely creepy.

Katie decided she’d better head back toward Bourbon, at least close enough to have other people milling around. She started down St. Peter, her gait swift, although she tried not to appear unnerved in any way.

From behind her, she sensed rather than heard, or maybe she did hear—either way, she knew the dark figure had left the doorway and followed her.

She doubled her steps.

“Hey!” a voice called from a few feet behind her, male and gravelly.

She didn’t stop to look behind her.

“Hey,” he shouted again, and Katie could tell the guy was getting closer. In fact, she sensed that he was going to touch her, even before a hand clamped down on her shoulder. She didn’t need to see the hand to know she was being touched by a large palm and long, bony fingers.

Alarmed, she spun and swung at the creepy figure. Her poorly fisted hand connected with the side of his head, and to her amazement, the man reeled under the force of her hit, literally lifting off the ground and slamming against the wooden shutters of the building beside them. The tall figure crumpled to the ground like a flung-aside rag doll.

Katie knew this was her chance to flee, but she couldn’t move, too amazed at what she’d just done. Was she really that strong now? Or had that been a lucky punch?

Really? Was now the time to wonder about her preternatural abilities? This was her opportunity to get away from this weirdo; she could debate her possible superhuman strength somewhere else.

She turned to rush away, only to stop again when she heard his pained, mumbled words. “I just wanted my parrot.”

Slowly, she spun back to the man, who still lay slumped against the wall, holding a large hand with long, thin fingers to the side of his head. His face was hidden by shadows, and she was reminded of a skeleton. But as she stared at his prone body, she realized he reminded her of more than a skeleton—something about his dirty shorts and tank was actually familiar.

Katie crept closer, although she made sure not to get close enough that he could suddenly reach out and grab her. She’d seen enough horror movies to know how these situations could go.

But then again, she would probably be considered the monster in this scenario. Totally weird.

“Your parrot?” she said to the man.

“Winston.”

Katie thought about the red bird back at Cort’s apartment. She would have gone with Satan, herself. Maybe Beelzebub. But she supposed Winston could work, too.

That was, if they were talking about the same parrot. She caught herself. Really? What were the chances of a stranger chasing her to get a parrot back if he wasn’t looking for the parrot they had? New Orleans was a strange place, but not that strange.

Of course, this was a newly created vampire thinking this. Maybe it was that weird, but she still doubted it.

“You didn’t lose Winston, did you?” The man tried to struggle upright, but groaned, pressing a hand back to the place where she’d hit him.

Guilt filled her, and she tossed her better judgment to the wind and stepped forward to help him. She immediately regretted her moment of sympathy as his overwhelming stench assaulted her nostrils. She suppressed a gag, and continued to hold his arm until he struggled to his feet.

He swayed slightly, but as soon as he seemed to have his balance, she released him and backed away. She was sorry she couldn’t be more helpful, especially when she’d been the one to hurt him, but that smell. It was like the man just rolled out of bed from cuddling with a skunk and then bathed in a hot, decomposing landfill.

“Did you lose him?” He sounded so heartbroken, that for a moment Katie forgot the stench.

He stepped forward, his face coming fully into the light of the streetlamp for the first time. Again, Katie got the feeling she’d seen this man before. Well, obviously she had, but she actually recognized him. Maybe she was actually remembering something from last night. She searched her brain, but nothing definitive came to her.

“Did you lose Winston?” he asked again.

Katie shook her head, studying him closer, trying to remember where and when they’d met last night, and maybe, just maybe, the events that surrounded the meeting.

“Does your husband still have him?”

Husband? Well, he must have been a part of her sham wedding celebration, and didn’t know that she and Cort weren’t really married.

That silly feeling of disappointment weighed on her chest again.

“Yes, Winston is still with Cort,” she managed to say past that heavy tightness.

The man smiled, but only briefly as his large hand returned to the side of his head and he grimaced.

“You pack a hell of a wallop for such a tiny thing.”

“I’m—I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. She supposed that was part of now being a vampire that she’d have to be aware of. She was very strong. And fast.

Even though she wasn’t pleased that she’d actually hurt this man, she had to admit, it was kind of thrilling to be able to protect herself in a way she wouldn’t have been able to before. It certainly didn’t make her the typical girl next door that she’d always considered herself.

“Could we go get him?” the dirty man said, still rubbing his head.

Katie would love nothing more than to give this man back his bird. She was certain Cort would love nothing more, too, but there was no way she was going back to Cort’s place. Not yet. She couldn’t face Cort yet. She felt too confused and fragile.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, “but I can’t.”

The man frowned through his layers of filth. “Why not? I mean, I know it’s not proper to ask for a wedding gift back, but I was so hyped up from dancing and whatnot, and I didn’t think through giving you Winston.”

The parrot had been a wedding gift. Of course. Why else would they have the bird? Right . . . just more weirdness.

It was already strange enough that this . . . well, he appeared to be a vagrant . . . would have a talking parrot.

“He’s my best friend,” the man added.

A talking parrot as a best friend. It all made perfect sense. Totally.

The vagrant stepped closer and again, Katie backed away.

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” he said, and she believed he was sincere. The problem was, his scent just might.

“Please don’t worry. I’m sure Cort—” When the man frowned, Katie clarified by saying, “My husband will gladly give you back Winston. We’d never expect you to part with something so dear to you.”

The vagrant smiled then, revealing what might have once been quite a charming grin, before the yellowed and missing teeth.

Suddenly Katie knew where she recognized him from, and it wasn’t from her own memories of last night, it was from that couple Betty and Ed’s photographs.

This was the vagrant dancer that they’d mentioned. But why hadn’t they also mentioned him as being a part of the wedding party along with them?

“Where did we meet last night?”

“After your wedding ceremony. You were married by one of my dear friends, Annalese Bonvieux.”

Katie frowned. She was pretty sure the priest in the bathtub would not have that name.

“Could you bring me to . . . her?” Katie guessed he must be referring to a woman.

“Of course I can,” the man agreed with another wide smile. “And you will get me back Winston?”

“Absolutely.”

The man gestured for her to follow him and they headed toward Bourbon, which again made her feel a little more secure going with the homeless man. Of course, she did know she could defend herself, but old cautions died hard. Harder than she had, apparently.

As they walked, the vagrant chattered on about things and places that he seemed to think she should know about. Some tarot card reader in Jackson Square who could tell the future as sure as if she were reading a book. Katie wasn’t even sure what that meant. And about a band he loved over at Boney’s, a bar Katie had never heard of. The man talked like they were old friends, and for all she knew they might have talked about all these things last night. But tonight, she had no idea what he was talking about.

In fact, from his erratic rambling and changing of subjects, Katie wondered if she should even trust that this man really did know who had supposedly performed her and Cort’s wedding.

He was a vagrant after all. He was probably no more of a reliable source of information than his bird had been.

But at this point, what did one more wild-goose chase really matter?

“Oh, hear that?” the man said suddenly, grinning wildly. Katie frowned, since getting closer to Bourbon she could hear dozens of things. Bands, people, laughter, fights, even faintly under all of that, the beating of their hearts. So given all of those sounds to choose from, she couldn’t begin to guess which sound he referred to.

“I love this band,” he said, suddenly beginning to jig right there in the street.

Katie found herself smiling as she watched the man’s utter abandonment to the music and his dance. And in truth, he was actually rather good.

“I have to go listen for a while,” he said, heading to a bar on the corner.

“Wait,” Katie said, but the man disappeared into the crowded mass of partiers.

She debated following him, but knew she couldn’t handle being bombarded by all the sounds and smells. Never mind the jostling of the crowd, bodies close to her, body heat, and the sweet scent that seemed to cling to every mortal like a sugary coating. Even now, keeping her distance, that smell called to her.

She distanced herself a little more from the hopping bar and waited. And waited.

After standing there for more than fifteen minutes, she decided maybe she should just go. Following the man in the first place had probably been a fool’s errand, and the longer she stood out here, with people wandering everywhere, the more she could feel that underlying hunger building deep inside her.

But where could she go? She had a name, Annalese Bonvieux. She could try to find this woman on her own. But she didn’t even know where to start.

Darn, she really just wanted to go back to her apartment. She wanted peace and quiet.

She wanted the bag of blood in Cort’s fridge, she realized with mild disgust. Sadly,
very
mild disgust.

She guessed she’d have to settle for somewhere here in the Quarter. But what place would be even vaguely quiet.

Fahy’s, she decided, risking cutting across Bourbon and down one of the side streets. Fahy’s could be busy at times, but she thought it was probably late enough to be safe. Plus, Katie knew the bartender well, and he’d probably let her order a drink and just give him the money tomorrow night once she figured out how to get her purse back from Cort. If it was even there.

When she reached Fahy’s green front door, she knew she’d made the right choice. The place looked quiet tonight. Thank God.

She opened the door and stepped into the calming dimness. The dark wood of the bar also seemed to ease her tension, as well as the soft rock coming from the jukebox. Who would have thought Air Supply could soothe the savage beast?

“Nigel,” she greeted the bartender with a smile, glad to be somewhere that felt normal and familiar, but the normalcy, at least, was short-lived.

“Katie-Katie, my girl,” Nigel said in his wonderful British accent. “I’m surprised to see you out and about tonight. I would have thought last night would have been more than enough excitement for a while.”

Katie forced herself to return his smile.

Nigel reached for a mug hanging on a rack above his head, then he placed it under the spigot of her favorite beer. Once it was filled, he set the full mug in front of her and leaned on the bar.

“After all, it isn’t every day a young bird like you meets her maker,” he said, shaking his head.

“Meet my maker?”

“Aye,” he said, then regarded her closely. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember a thing about last night either.”

“Either?” She was starting to feel a bit like Winston, repeating everything Nigel said. Not that Winston seemed to be the type of parrot that did that. He had plenty to say without mimicking.

“Yeah, some of the others were in here earlier,” Nigel said. “Wyatt, Stella, that confused kid with the long blonde hair.”

“Saxon,” Katie said automatically.

“Yeah, him. They were here and seemed a little confused by the events of last night. Of course, they didn’t have nearly the reason you do to be confused.”

Well, Nigel was right, she was confused. Very confused. “They don’t?”

Nigel shook his head, giving her a sympathetic look. “You don’t remember a thing about what happened on the riverboat, do you?”

She shook her head. She hadn’t even realized Nigel had been there, although it made sense he would be. Katie knew Nigel was friends with the band guys, and Johnny had come here often after he was done playing. Of course, Nigel would go to the memorial to pay his respects.

“Probably a good thing you don’t remember,” Nigel said and reached out to pat one of Katie’s hands in an almost fatherly way. “All I can say is thank Mary and Joseph that Cort was there. If he hadn’t done what he did, well, you wouldn’t be sitting here with a pint, I can tell you that.”

“What did he do?”

“Why, saved your life, of course,” Nigel said frankly, then he leaned forward. “Well, you know, our version of life anyway.”

Katie stared at Nigel. He was a vampire, too? Holy crap, was everyone she knew a vampire?

“What happened to me?” she asked, the question as surreal as finding out all the people she’d known for years were undead.

“Well, you cracked your head open, dear.”

Chapter Twenty

FIND A BEER OR YOUR TRUE LOVE, WHICHEVER COMES FIRST

“Y
OU
did lose Katie, didn’t you?” Drake said after he and Cort entered and exited yet another bar. This one on Conti.

Cort shot Drake an irritated look. Did he have to keep using the word
lose
? Lose. It made it sound like he’d lost his chance with her. But what if he had?

He didn’t know what had made her leave like that, and it was killing him. He had to find her and talk to her.

“I didn’t lose her,” Cort stated, not for the first time.

“She’s gone. She’s gone,” sang the bird, also not for the first time.

Drake gave the parrot and Cort a pointed look. “I think the bird knows something you don’t.”

Cort glared at his bandmate again. Drake fell silent, at least for a few seconds.

“Seriously,” he said, as they strolled back toward Bourbon, “why are we scouring the Quarter for her?”

“She’s a new vampire. She shouldn’t be wandering around alone. She could get into real trouble, not understanding her powers, her limitations. She needs looking after for a while anyway.”

“I didn’t have anyone to look after me.”

Cort gave his friend an incredulous look. “You were made a vampire by the captain of a ship and then kept on board for weeks, with other vampires. You were pretty much on the
School at Sea
version of vampirism.”

Drake smiled, clearly remembering those days fondly. “Did I mention the whole crew was women dressed as male pirates?”

“Several times.”

Drake shrugged, but continued to smile. Finally he snapped out of his affectionate memories to say, “It’s true that she probably shouldn’t be on her own, but why do I get the feeling you aren’t just worried about that?”

“No idea.”

Drake raised an eyebrow, but remained silent, but not for long enough. “Let’s try Bourbon Cowboy. We were there last night. Maybe she remembered something and ended up there, too.”

Cort nodded. “Why not?”

At this point it was like looking for a needle in a haystack anyway. And just like any good haystack, the Bourbon Cowboy revealed nothing more than any of the other places had. Just tourists drinking too much and cheering each other on as they fell off the mechanical bull. Maybe Cort was better off just heading home. If Katie didn’t want to be found, he was pretty certain she wouldn’t be. He just hoped she was somewhere safe. Maybe she was at her apartment. He’d tried there first, but she hadn’t answered. Maybe she’d just ignored his repeated knocks. Maybe she was already in bed. He just hoped she realized the sun was no joke. She had to avoid it.

Let Johnny’s death be a lesson on that one, although Katie had no idea that’s how Johnny died.

“You know I like to be a supportive friend and all, but man, I’m getting tired. I need a drink or something.” Drake stopped walking and leaned against the side of the bar as if he were ancient. Which he was, but vampires didn’t get tired. Not physically anyway.

Cort had to admit he felt tired, too, but he was emotionally drained. Man, this had been one stressful night. He would have thought last night was going to be the stressful one, what with dealing with the death of a friend and bandmate, but this night had managed to overshadow that one.

Sorry, Johnny.

“Okay, let’s get a drink.”

Drake levered himself away from the wall, eyebrows raised. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s going to be impossible to find her. Let’s go to Fahy’s.”

“We already went there and didn’t find out much of anything,” Drake said.

“That’s why I want to go there,” Cort said. “I’m tired of looking for clues.”

“Me, too, brother, me, too.”

It was on the tip of Cort’s tongue to point out the only drama Drake went through during their drunken debacle was losing his tooth. That didn’t quite stack up to crossing someone over and a supposed marriage. But that would probably open up a conversation he didn’t feel like having. Drake already sensed Cort had more than protective feelings for Katie. Not that Cort cared if the guys knew how strongly he felt. Well, as long as Katie returned those same feelings, otherwise Cort planned to play it cool.

They turned down Bourbon and headed the several blocks toward Fahy’s.

“Hey, there’s Raven,” Drake said, pointing to the corner where a tall, bald man dressed in all black stood smoking a cigarette.

“Yippee,” Cort said.

“I was just thinking,” Drake started, then shook his head. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“I was just thinking that”—he paused again, really not wanting to finish his thought, but took one look at Cort’s impatient expression and continued—“maybe Raven has seen Katie. He always seemed to pay a lot of attention to her. He’d definitely notice her if she was around.”

Cort gritted his teeth. Yeah, that was the last thing he wanted to think about right now. Another man’s interest. Especially given he had no idea where he stood with Katie.

But Drake did have a point.

“It can’t hurt to ask,” Cort said, trying to sound casual. After all, it couldn’t hurt to ask, but it could piss him off. Royally.

They crossed the street, walking over to Raven. As soon as he saw them coming, Raven shook his head, looking decidedly displeased about seeing them. He tossed down his cigarette.

“What do you guys want?”

Drake glanced at Cort, waiting for him to speak, but when he didn’t, he asked, “Have you seen Katie Lambert?”

“Jesus, what is it with you Impalers and women?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cort said, frowning.

“Nothing,” Raven said, shaking his head. “No, I have not seen your blushing bride.”

Cort gritted his teeth. From Raven’s sarcastic tone, it seemed he knew they weren’t really married, too. And as much as Cort didn’t want to talk to him, Raven might know some other things about last night as well.

“That’s right,” Cort said, trying to sound conversational, almost friendly, which was no easy feat with this man. “You were at our ‘reception.’ Did you notice anything weird last night?”

“Weirder than the fact that sweet, beautiful Katie Lambert was interested in you?” The bald, tattooed man rubbed his chin, pretending to think. “Nope, I can’t say that I do.”

Cort’s teeth ached and he knew he had to leave before he reacted more, but before he could even turn away from the man, Raven added, “I can tell you this much though, if I’d turned over that sweet thing, I’d be taking a lot better care of her. Not letting her roam the streets without me.”

“Oh, really?” Cort said, that common desire to punch this twit filling him, full force.

“Damned right. If I was going to make the effort to cross her over, I’d also make the effort to keep her close.”

Drake stepped forward, as if he could sense that Cort wanted to throw this poser with his silly tattoos and Goth clothing against the side of the bar.

But Cort managed to keep himself composed, except for his hands, which were painfully balled into fists at his sides.

“Oh, yeah, I wouldn’t think you could make that kind of commitment, Raven.”

“To sweet, lovely Katie?” Raven made a face that could only be described as lascivious. “I’d give it a shot. One thing is for sure, I’d definitely keep her in my bed for a good long time. After all, she is a brand-new vampire, and she has a lot to learn.”

Cort stepped forward, even as he told himself to ignore the asshole’s taunts. Common sense told him that Raven was just trying to get him going, because he’d wanted Katie for himself, but still he wanted to hurt the dickhead for even thinking about taking his Katie to bed. Much less keeping her there.

You hadn’t been able to keep her there.

Even that made him want to hit Raven. But Drake stepped directly between them.

“No point wasting your energy,” Drake said, meeting Cort’s eyes, trying to get him focused elsewhere rather than on Raven’s damned smug face.

Cort glared past Drake anyway, but eventually calmed. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

“Good luck finding her,” Raven called after them. “Here’s hoping someone else doesn’t beat you to her.”

Cort spun back, ready to fight again at the implication of his words.

“Don’t bother, man,” Drake said. “He’s just pissed because Katie never noticed him. He’s playing stupid mind games. It’s all he’s got.”

Cort pulled in a deep breath and nodded. They headed down the street again, and Cort pretended he couldn’t hear Raven’s arrogant laughter as they walked away.

“What do you want to do?” Drake asked when they had a good block between them and Raven.

“Let’s just go to Fahy’s,” Cort said. “I’ll call Wyatt and see what’s going on with them. Maybe they’ve seen Katie.”

“Okay,” Drake said, clearly willing to go anywhere as long as a drink was involved.

“Jack and Coke. Jack and Coke.”

And the parrot felt the same way. For once, everyone was in agreement.

*   *   *

“CRACKED MY HEAD
open?” Katie automatically touched her fingers to her head. She was startled to feel a rather large indentation on the back of her skull. She dropped her hand.

“Yes, you were onstage performing with the band, and you and Cort were singing . . . ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart,’ I believe it was.”

“As in Elton John?”

“Yes.”

Katie pondered that. “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” was hardly the usual Bourbon Street fare. She was surprised the band even knew it. But it did go right along with all the other weirdness.

“Somehow you backed up and got caught on some of the wires on the stage. You fell and hit your noggin just right on the corner of one of the amps. Blood everywhere. It was really quite gruesome.”

Gruesome? To a vampire? That was saying something.

“I died from hitting my head on an amp?” Now talk about a death you didn’t want to brag about at the Pearly Gates.

“Like I said, you most certainly would have died. Or worse, if Cort hadn’t scooped you up and taken care of you.”

“Or worse?”

Nigel smiled indulgently. “Not all vampires are as sensitive as Cort and his gang. There were vamps on that boat that might have seen you as an unexpected smorgasbord.”

Katie grimaced.

“Not all vampires are as decorous as I am.”

It was good to know Nigel hadn’t seen her as a free appetizer either.

“We couldn’t have made it back to the shore and gotten you to a hospital before you’d have passed. You were bleeding too heavily. Cort made a judgment call, because he cares for you. I hope you aren’t angry with him.”

“No,” she said automatically. No, she wasn’t angry with him about the bite, she never had been. She knew some people might be, but she’d known deep down inside that if it had been Cort who’d bitten her, he’d have done it only for a very good reason.

She had trusted that.

But that wasn’t what grabbed Katie’s attention. It was another thing Nigel said.

“What do you mean, he cares about me?”

Nigel gave her another indulgent smile. “Girl, surely you have seen the way Cort has been pining for you. Everyone who works on Bourbon Street knows it.”

Katie shook her head, stunned by his words. She could have understood if he said she’d been the one pining and everyone knew it, because, boy, had she ever pined.

“And you’ve carried a torch for him, too, haven’t you, Katie-Katie?”

She found herself nodding, just because she was stupefied by his insight.

“So you could imagine how pleased many of us were to see him willing to save you. That’s a strong bond, you know.”

Katie continued to gape at him, unable to do anything else.

Nigel stared at her for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess the people involved are sometimes the last to know.”

Could that be true? Could she have misunderstood his reaction to the news of their nonexistent marriage? She certainly had trusted Cort with her life and her undeath. Yet she hadn’t even given him a chance to explain his feelings. Just because he didn’t want to be married, didn’t mean he didn’t have feelings for her. After all, most people did explore their feelings before the bonds of matrimony.

“You know, maybe I should go find Cort,” she said suddenly, feeling like a childish fool for running off like she had.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Nigel said. “I’m sure he’s fretting about you.”

“Maybe,” she said, allowing herself to believe Cort could have feelings, true romantic feelings.

She stood, then suddenly remembered she didn’t have her wallet.

“I’m sorry,” she started, but Nigel cut her off.

“The beer and conversation are on me tonight. I’m just glad you are still with us, girl.”

Katie grinned. “Me, too.”

She headed to the bar door, only to have it open before she could do so herself.

In front of her appeared the Dancing Vagrant, and as usual her natural instinct was to back away. That smell really was too much. Maybe when she returned the man’s parrot, she should also give him a bar of soap. The poor guy probably had no idea how he smelled.

He smiled widely when he saw her, revealing her assessment was very likely correct.

“Here you are,” he said, then looked past her into the bar. “Do you have Winston?”

“No, not yet.”

His face fell, but almost immediately lifted back into a smile. “I got ahold of Annalese for you.”

“You did?” Katie wasn’t quite sure if she should believe this man. He seemed perfectly harmless, but definitely a little out-there.

“Yes, she’s going to meet us. At Erin Rose.”

Erin Rose, another of the band’s usual hangouts. That made her feel better about leaving with him. He wasn’t taking her somewhere she’d never heard of. Of course she could defend herself anyway.

“But we could stop here for a minute,” he said, cocking his head to the side, listening. His hips began to move a little, along with his feet. “I love this song.”

He started to step into the bar, but Nigel’s voice stopped him.

“We’re not having any dancing in here tonight, buddy. Sorry.”

Katie glanced at Nigel, who gave her a pained shrug. She understood Nigel’s stance. No matter how nice and jovial this guy seemed to be, he was still a dirty, stinky homeless guy and his presence would affect business. A harsh truth, sadly.