Celeste Anwar - Born Of Night

“You’re not gonna go, are you, chere?”

Whether she did or not wasn’t any of his business. She shrugged noncommittally.

“Jus’ remember what I tol’ you.”

His advice brought the warning her adoptive parents had given her fresh into her mind. Never take this off. Never. She knew her neck was ringed with paler skin, the chain having long rested around it ... for as long as she could remember. She half wondered if he knew something she didn’t, but she shrugged the silly thought off.

He didn’t know her or anything about her. She’d gotten paranoid since coming to New Orleans.

Jessica turned to go, then stopped. “What’s your name?” she asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder.

He smiled lazily, propping one shoulder against the building in confident male fashion. “Gabriel Benoit, petite. At your service.”

“Nice to ... uh ... meet you,” she murmured and turned away before he could see her blush again ... or draw her into further conversation. She put his disturbing presence and even more disturbing kiss out of her mind.

She wasn’t here to get involved with any man, especially not one like him. She knew the type--players. Always charming, good looking, and absolutely horrible on a woman’s self esteem when they left and chased after the next piece of ass. She wasn’t going to be any man’s conquest. Not that Jessica had ever fallen for a player, but she damned well knew now why women did.

She still felt hot and bothered as she set off for her hotel. She glanced back to see if he followed--not because she wanted one last look at temptation incarnate--but he wasn’t to be seen. She quickly lost sight of the small alley as she made her way toward Canal street and left the Bourbon revelers behind. Soon the only sounds on the street were the hum of car engines, the wind, and her own footsteps. It was a long walk back to her hotel, and she was contemplating catching a cab when she noticed the obscure shop Gabriel had spoken of.

It was practically invisible, overshadowed by the giants around it, but the shuttered, double doors were thrown open to let a cool breeze inside. Obviously, they were open, even at this late hour. Jessica approached it, and the jangling music of wind chimes grew louder as she neared. A man was inside, sweeping the rugs covering the tiled floor. He looked up as she passed through the door.

“Are you closing up?” she asked, stopping inside the threshold.

“Not just yet,” he said, setting his broom aside. “What can I do for you?”

Jessica held up her necklace, looking around and feeling like she’d been duped. The shop didn’t look like a jewelry repair place. “Someone mentioned I could get this fixed here,” she said with a doubtful tone to her voice.

He took it from her and gave her a startled look, quickly shuttered. “Yep. I’ll get this fixed for you in a jiffy. Have a look around. I’ll be right back.”

Jessica nodded and watched him go through a door into the back, then wandered around the cluttered shop. There were racks of charms and potions on one side, including a row dedicated to nothing but essence of garlic of varying sizes and potencies. Weapons lined the walls out of reach near the ceiling: crossbows, long bows, swords, and arrows with silver and wooden heads. There were others she couldn’t identify, but that looked almost like maces.

Jessica continued looking and found an umbrella holder filled with short wooden stakes and another with mallets. It looked for all the world like some bizarre, witch hunting shop ... or rather, one dedicated to vampire hunting. The movie Blade popped in her head. Really, being Louisiana, she would’ve thought they’d have more voodoo paraphernalia.

The man came out again, moving behind the front counter. He laid her necklace on the clean surface. “That’s a fine warding medallion you have. Been a while since I’ve seen one so old.”

“Warding medallion?” she asked, walking up to the counter to check the work. She couldn’t even tell it had ever been broken.

“Yes. Well, it’s an old, cryptic language. Most people wouldn’t recognize it. See these markings here?” He flipped it over and showed her a scrawling script. She’d always thought it was some kind of ornate design--not words. “It’s protection against the wolf.”

Jessica was intrigued. She leaned on the counter, looking between him and her medallion. “What kind of protection?”

“It depends on the wearer really. Now, if you were a vampire, it would ward werewolves away ... supposedly.”

Jessica laughed. He wasn’t serious. “Okay, you got me. There’s no such thing as vampires and werewolves.”

He chuckled, watching as she put the necklace on. “I’m not joking around. I would’

ve thought you’d heard of the war by now.”

“What war? Does it have something to do with all this stuff in here?” she asked, waving an expansive arm, playing along.

He propped an elbow on the register. “Of course. I’m just a supplier, mind you. I don’t take part, but I’m partial to the Lycan side of things.”

“Why’s that? I mean, I don’t see why vampires and Lycans would fight.”

He rubbed his jaw, considering it. “It must’ve been in the early part of this past century. The Lycans rebelled against the vamps using them as food and slaves ... but they mostly objected to being eaten, and still do. Must’ve been a sight to see them tearing into the vamps--if you were on the inside, that is. I’ve always been partial to the underdog, so I supply them when they come in.”

Jessica was completely unnerved and fascinated by his story. She didn’t doubt but what there were plenty of nuts running around claiming to be a werewolf or a vampire. She guessed anyone had a right to make a living selling to them. “So is this war still going on?” she asked, amused.

“It flares up every now and again, but they usually stick to their territory. Just stay clear of anything Southwest of the Ponchartrain Expressway. Especially the warehouse and Garden district.”

Jessica nodded, humoring him. She was going there to check out the cemetery where her birth parents had been buried--at least that’s what she’d managed to dig up. Jessica paid him and turned to leave, but he stopped her with one last warning.

“You’ll remember what I said, right? I can tell you’re not from around here and don’t know about the territories just yet. I wouldn’t want you to have a run in with those bloodsuckers. There’s only so much protection that warding medallion will give you.”

Gabriel stood in the shadow of a doorway, watching as Jessica left the shop and walked up the street, completely unaware of his presence. Her senses were too dulled from human living, but he could change that. And he would. Even with the distance, he sensed the necklace about her throat. He was grateful she’d heeded his advice and gotten the chain fixed. A warding medallion was no real worry to him, but he hoped its power would keep the others from sensing her presence in the city a while longer. He’d staked his claim with that kiss, but there were too many to challenge him.

Given what she was, he had little doubt she would be allowed to choose a mate, and better him than another. The fact that he had little remorse for his action proved just how Lycan he’d grown, but it mattered not.

He waited until she’d gained some distance on him before pushing away from the door jam, following her, keeping her within sight. The streets here were empty of other pedestrians. He couldn’t smell Lycans or Vamps nearby, but that didn’t mean they weren’t out there, prowling the streets. Still, he was satisfied they were relatively alone.