Page 9

I went to a candy shop, a fudgery, and a praline shop.

I had no idea there were entire shops dedicated to pralines.

I was in heaven. Not real heaven, but my tastebuds were definitely transported out of this world.

I'd never had the freedom to eat to excess.

Even in Wren's body, I limited what we ate.

She was just human at the time, and I needed her body to be as beautiful as possible so it could make us money.

Not as a prostitute—thank you very much.

We had sugar daddies and patrons and men who adored us.

We did not have sex for money. But we still had to look good.

Now, I'd look good no matter what. That alone was worth whatever Hades demanded of me.

“Hold on.” I paused outside the fudgery. “What did he say? Didn't he say something about my end of the deal?” I tried to remember our conversation in my car, but most of it was hazy.

I found myself walking while absently eating my fudge.

It was, by necessity, finger-licking good.

However, halfway through my chocolate binge, I started to get sick of sweets.

That had never happened to me before. I'd never eaten enough to get sick of them.

Didn't even know it was possible. But mid-bite, my mouth decided it wanted something savory.

That's when I slammed into something solid.

“Son of a bitch!” someone growled.

The solid thing turned out to be a man's chest, and I had automatically braced myself against it.

Simultaneously, something liquid and cold ran down my chest. I gasped and pulled back.

The guy had been drinking something with a lot of ice—not surprising in that heat—and had spilled it down my dress.

But he hadn't gotten away entirely unscathed.

My fudgy fingers left prints all over his white shirt and some of his drink had splattered him as well.

I looked from my fingerprints to the modest V of the man's neckline and found a nice physique to stare at.

Tan skin, a shade lighter than mine, covered some impressive muscles.

Impressive enough that I looked down before I looked up.

Trim waist, thick thighs. Okay, now the other direction.

Up led me to some sexy, corded forearms, displayed by rolled up cuffs.

Then, hello, biceps! Over an expanse of shoulder big enough for me to sit on, I headed for the neck. He swallowed. I finally met his stare.

Blue eyes. Nothing to hate there. Especially with those thick lashes framing them.

And they weren't just blue. They were arctic blue with sapphire limbal rings.

The man had the eyes of a husky. He also had cheekbones that looked as if a god had smacked a hammer at some slate.

Nice nose—lean but not too lean. Oh, and his lips looked as if they'd just been bitten. A lot.

“Damn it all.” Those lips moved.

I refocused on his eyes.

“I'm sorry, cher. I didn't see you. I think I ruined your dress.” He looked down and swallowed again.

I looked down, at myself this time. His drink had soaked me to the skin, making the silk of my dress cling to me. The cold beaded my nipples. In short, he got quite a show. But after the ogling I'd been doing, I didn't mind.

“It's all right.” I waved at his shirt. “I gave as good as I got—which is usual for me.” I winked at him.

He burst out laughing, setting his husky eyes to shining.

And that's when I felt it. The draw. A connection that tingled between us.

I could almost see it spark and arc from him to me.

Like lightning. Something unmistakable and undeniable.

Love at first sight? Hell no. But it was enchanting.

Literally. Yup, I had just slammed into my destiny.

Here he was. One of my boys. The magic between us was so much more than I'd been expecting. And so much sooner.

“Oh, fuck,” I muttered and stepped back. “It's you.”

One third of my destiny gaped at me. “Excuse me?”

“Don't act as if you don't know who I am. This is a setup, isn't it?” I looked around. “Where is he?”

“Who?”

I grimaced at him. “Hades.”

Oh, that got his attention. He grabbed my upper arm and leaned in. “Who are you?”

I jerked my arm out of his grip. “Manhandle me again, motherfucker, and what I won't be is yours!” I elbowed past him and stomped down the sidewalk.

Men gaped at me. Mostly at my breasts. How could I blame them? I was hot and covered in the remnants of a refreshing beverage that made my clothes stick to me. Of course, that would be my introduction to the Cerberus I was destined to mate. Ugh! Just my luck.

“Hey!” The hound caught up to me.

“Nope!” I pointed at him. “I'm not ready yet. I just got here, and I intend to have a little fun before I settle down. Break in the new body. I don't need the kind of commitment you three are gonna impose on me. Not yet.”

“Holy shit,” he whispered. “It's you. You're her.”

“Yeah, yeah. You're real bright.” I rolled my eyes.

“But how do you know that you're our mate?” He swung in front of me to stop my progress, but he held up his hands to show he wasn't going to touch me. “And how do you know Hades?”

“I know Hades because he sent me here. I was in the Blessed Isles before this.”

“The Blessed Isles,” he whispered. “Whoa. So, you're a pure soul. I mean, of course you are. We wouldn't get paired with an evil woman.”

“Not exactly a pair, are we?” I lifted my brows.

He chuckled. “No.” Then his stare coasted over my face. “Great Gods, you're stunning. Hades sure did right by us.”

“Don't be counting this chicken before she hatches.” I stepped around him. “I agreed to mate you, but I didn't agree to do so immediately.”

“What the fuck?!” He grabbed my hand and jerked me to a stop. “You need to explain that.”

“Do I?” I made a thinking face. “I don't think that's in my contract either. Call Hades. He'll explain it to you. Right now, I'm going home to get out of this dress.” I made it three steps before I saw the nunnery. “Oh, fuck.”

The oddest thing happened next. My body started to shake. Tremble. My throat went dry. Dread filled me.

“Hey!” The guy went still, his tone softening. “Are you all right.” He looked from me to the convent. “Do you have a problem with nuns?”

“As it happens, yes,” I whispered. And then I couldn't speak.

“All right, I've got you. It's okay.”

I didn't know why he was saying those ridiculous things until he picked me up. I could barely move my arms to push at him. The bag of sweets landed on my belly. I stared at it. My stomach soured.

“Set me down!”

“You nearly fell! I'm not trying to—”

“I'm going to throw up!”

He set me down.

Right there, outside of that bitch palace, I puked up all the sweets and pastries I'd consumed. The hound crouched behind me and pulled back my hair. Then he rubbed my back.

“Damn, you really do have a problem with nuns.”

I spat to clear my mouth, then stood. Swayed.

“Easy now, sugah.” He steadied me.

“I'm fine,” I mumbled. “I don't understand. This never bothered me before.”

“Before when?”

“When I was in the Isles. Before that.” I shook my head and stared up at the building that really had nothing to do with me. “I've never even been here.”

“So, it's just nuns that upset you? Not this particular convent?”

“No, it's these nuns. These Ursuline bitches.” I spat again, this time to clear my mouth of the name. It was just as sour as vomit.

“Hold on. You said you were in the Blessed Isles.”

“Yeah, you can swear and still go there.” I glared at him.

“No.” He chuckled. “No, I mean, you shouldn't have a memory of that.”

“Part of the deal was that I got to keep my memories.”

“All of them?”

“Yup.”

“How many lives have you lived?”

“A lot.”

“Hades would never allow you to keep that many memories.”

“Well, he did.” I looked at the convent. “And they never bothered me in the Blessed Isles.”

“Because you didn't have a physical form there.”

“What has that got to do with it?”

“The body translates emotions into physical sensations. Without that, memories are less haunting. They can't make you throw up when you don't have a stomach. But in a body, memories can play havoc on your heart, stomach, and, well, everything. If they're bad memories, that is.”

“You could say that.” I looked at the convent. “You ever hear of the casket girls?”

“I live here. So yes, of course.”

I looked back at him. “I was one of them. Except I didn't have a choice in the matter. I was abducted and woke up on a ship.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucked a king.” I started walking again.

“Blessed Isles,” he muttered. Then he caught up to me. “You must have done something really kind after that king betrayed you.”

“Nope. I'm a bit of a rebel actually. It was me who started the vampire rumor.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know, the rumor that the casket girls were vampires.

That journey was rough. A lot of us got sick.

All of us got real pale and thin. We came off the ship looking like shit—receding gums, emaciated, pale as the dead.

Some of us even had blood on our lips from coughing it up.

The men were put off by our appearance, but those nuns were shocked.

I don't think they were treated the same way that we were on their voyage over.” I looked back at the convent.

“This place wasn't built until after I left New Orleans, but myths get messed up. People get the times wrong.”

“So, what's the truth?”

“The truth is that those nuns were evil bitches who tormented us.

Me especially because I didn't want to be there.

I hadn't chosen it. So, I decided to play on their fears.

I told them I was a vampire—a monster who preyed on blood.

And that's why Louis sent me away. I told them my casket was full of dirt from my homeland.”

“Louis? King Louis? That was your king?”

“Yeah. The younger one, not the old man.”

“At least there's that.” He rolled his eyes.

“Hey! I loved him and that fucker betrayed me. No reason to either. He could have just ended things. I mean, the asshole went on to fuck a whole family of sisters and never got rid of any of them. He just moved on to the younger ones. But then, they were nobles.”

“Yes, I recall the rumors.”

“Oh, right. You've been alive a long time. Have you been here for all that time? Maybe our paths have crossed before.”

“Yup. This is our territory. We were here before the French came and named the place after their king. But I know we've never met. If we had, you'd already be ours.”

“Yeah, sure.” I stepped past him.

“Hold on! Stop running off. Sheesh. You're a slippery one.” He kept pace with me. “Tell me more about the nuns and the King.”

“Nope.”

“Nope?”

“Nope. Don't want to. We're already getting too familiar.”

“We're supposed to get very familiar.”

I looked over when I heard his eager tone. “You're hot. I'll give you that. But as a soul who got to choose her own body, hotness doesn't impress me. My hotness level is higher than yours. And I can have anyone I want. So, I'll get to you. Eventually.”

“Eventually?! What the fuck? Do you really intend to go around New Orleans fucking whoever you want while we wait for you?”

“No.”

“Oh.” He started to relax.

“You don't have to wait for me. Go and do the same—fuck whoever you want. It's just sex. I don't care.”

“You don't . . . what kind of a blessed soul are you?”

I stopped one last time to look him in the eye. “The badass kind.” Then I sauntered off like the badass bitch I was.

As I walked away, he called after me, “I'm Cyrus. Cyrus Demos.”

“I don't care!” I called back.

“For fuck's sake, woman! At least give me your name.”

“Salina Haven.”

And then I left Cyrus Demos in the dust.

I had to. I was about to be sick again, and I didn't want him to see me throw up twice.