Page 4 of Holy Shift (New Orleans Nocturnes #8)

CHAPTER FOUR

“A vampire is the only thing that could have done it.” Pete sank a fork into the slice of cake Destiny had left on the counter for him. The strawberry sauce, not overly sweet, complemented the light, spongy texture perfectly. It had also complemented the buttery yellow color of her dress.

His stomach tightened as an image of the heavenly woman flashed in his mind. She was beautiful beyond comparison. Anyone would attest to that, but there was so much more to her. A connection on a level deeper than he ever thought possible. He had felt it the moment their eyes met.

And how did she know angel food cake was his favorite?

“I suppose a newly undead might turn to poultry blood without proper guidance.” Gaston’s voice drew him from his thoughts. “But it’s a rare vampire who can cross into that realm. Are you certain there isn’t a species of fae who might do such a thing? An elfen chupacabra, perhaps?” He scooped a spoonful of his dessert into his mouth and closed his eyes for a long blink. “Or someone making sanguinaccio dolce , perhaps?”

“No fae would kill six chickens to make pudding.” Pete took another bite of cake, savoring the melding of flavors on his tongue.

Gaston laced his fingers and rested his hands on the table. “You have too much faith in people. Even the fae can go rogue.”

“I suppose that’s true, though I can’t fathom it. But you’re right about vampires not being able to cross into our realm. A fae would have to invite them over, and that’s even more unfathomable.” He laughed as he used his last bite to soak up as much sauce from the plate as possible. “Says the man who’s about to invite the Magistrate’s right-hand vamp to cross over.”

“Perhaps the culprit didn’t need an invitation,” Gaston said.

“Only a person with fae blood can cross into Eostre’s realm uninvited. I don’t know any fae vampires.”

“I do.”

Pete scratched his head, a fog forming in his brain as he took the last bite of angel food cake. Why were they talking about vampires? And what did vamps have to do with the fae? He blinked rapidly and stared at the plate in front of him. The remnants of a pinkish-red sauce were smeared across the pastel blue surface, reminding him of…something.

He flicked his gaze to the man sitting across from him. His aura screamed powerful vampire, sending his heart into a sprint. Why the hell was he having dessert with a vampire?

And since when did vampires eat food?

His knee bounced of its own volition, so he pressed his palm on his thigh to stop it. How did he get here? Where was he? More importantly…

Who was he?

“Are you not going to ask who I mean?” The vampire smirked. “It’s a rather jolly story.”

“Who?” he muttered, though he wasn’t inquiring about the story. He could not, for the life of him, remember his own name.

“Santa Claus himself,” the vampire said. “My dear friend Jane ran him over with my beloved Maserati, Genevieve. She had no choice but to turn him.”

“I don’t…” He rubbed his forehead. Santa Claus was a vampire? How was that relevant to their conversation…whatever it was they were talking about?

“Pete?” the vampire said, and he snapped his gaze to meet his ice-blue eyes. “Peter, are you okay?” Concern carved lines into the man’s forehead.

“Peter…” he mumbled. Apparently, that was his name. “I’m fine.”

Yes, that was a lie. His heart thumped so fast, it threatened to crack his rib cage, and his left foot tapped repeatedly, his rabbit instinct begging him to shift and hop out of there. He was about to do just that when an ethereal woman stepped through the kitchen door.

Her copper hair shimmered as she moved, and she wore a knee-length dress with pastel stripes that reminded him of… He couldn’t remember what it reminded him of, but it sure as sugar felt right.

Another woman entered behind her, this one a brunette vampire carrying three pastry boxes. He glanced at her before locking his gaze on the angel’s sky-blue eyes. They brightened when she smiled, tempering the panic that threatened to take over his entire being.

“Holy goat cheese pizza,” the brunette said. “Gaston, tell me you didn’t feed that cake to the Easter Bunny.”

What an odd thing to say. The angel’s eyes widened as she flicked her gaze to the empty plate in front of him. She snapped her head toward the counter and then back at his plate before snatching it off the table.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. Pete, did you eat the angel food cake?”

His shoulders crept toward his ears. “Maybe?” It was an honest answer, but apparently not the one they wanted to hear. The energy in the room grew palpable: wariness, concern, worry tipping toward panic.

His hands trembled with the urge to shift, so he fisted them. “Was I not supposed to?”

“No!” The angel set the plate on the counter and whirled toward him. “Are you okay? Tell me how you feel. What’s different?”

“I feel…” He sensed her panic, the brunette’s worry, the man’s confusion. As for himself? “I don’t know.”

The man rose and carried his bowl to the counter, setting it next to the empty plate. “The cake was here, next to my dish. I assumed you set it out for Pete.”

“Oh, dear.” The angel wrung her hands. “That was meant for a demon. I don’t know what it will do to him.”

“Oh, dear, indeed.” The man arched a brow at Pete. “Are you okay, mon ami ?”

“I don’t…” His gaze darted from the man to the brunette to the angel. “Who are you people?”

“I’m Jane.” The brunette approached him with slow, cautious steps. “This is Gaston and Destiny. You know that, right? You met us twenty minutes ago.”

No, he did not. He’d never seen these strangers in his life. At least…he didn’t think he had. His brain was fuzzier than his tail at the moment.

Jane took another step toward him, and he shot to his feet. “What did you do to me? Why am I here?” Where else should he be?

“Oh, sweet spirits. This is bad.” Destiny’s voice drew his gaze to her. Something about her presence calmed him, called to him…to his rabbit. But what was an angel doing colluding with vampires?

“What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I…” He racked his brain, trying his damnedest to conjure a memory, finding nothing but a blank slate. A rabbit hole leading to a bottomless pit. “I can’t remember anything.”

“Do you know who you are?” she asked.

He glanced at Jane and Gaston before returning his gaze to hers. “I assume my name is Pete, since that’s what you’re calling me.”

“Dude, you’re the Easter Bunny,” Jane said.

A maniacal laugh rolled up from his chest. “Yeah, right. And you’re the Tooth Fairy. And I suppose that’s Santa Claus.” He waved a hand at Gaston.

His body hummed with the need to shift. These people were more than a few eggs short of a dozen. They looked at each other with strange expressions and scrunched their brows at him.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “What did you do to me?”

“Destiny,” Jane said, “I think we know how your cake affects the fae now.”

The fae? Was this some kind of sick joke? He was a rabbit shifter, not a fae, and definitely not the fluffing Easter Bunny.

The angel buried her face in her hands and took a deep breath before tilting her head toward the ceiling. “Good gracious. I gave the Easter Bunny amnesia.”

“You’re insane. All of you. Stop calling me that.” He shuddered, every hair on his body standing on end, his skin threatening to sprout fur.

“Pete,” Destiny took a step toward him. “It’s who you are.”

Something about the way she said it made him want to believe it was true, but he shook his head, chasing away the feeling. She was an angel. Who knew what kind of power she had over people’s minds. She’d obviously blanked his. Or maybe the vampires had.

“No.” He backed toward the door. “Whatever this is, I want no part of it. I’m out.”

He shoved the door open, shifted into his rabbit form, and darted away. Where he should go, he had no clue, but anywhere was better than there.

* * *

Destiny’s mouth hung open as the door slowly swung back, the click of the latch sounding so final, her wings nearly molted right there in the shop. They might as well have. Her halo could have clattered on the floor for all it mattered.

Michelle tolerates nothing less than perfection. Gabriela’s words rang in her ears. This fiasco was nothing less than an epic fail.

“Let it be known that Jane Devereaux did not have a hand in ruining Easter.” Jane locked the front door and rested her hands on her hips. “I’ll own the Santa debacle, but this was all you, Gaston.”

His eyes flashed with menace, and he straightened to his full height, his aura pulsing with power. The last thing Destiny needed was a vampire fight in her bakery. Not when she’d just committed the flub to end all flubs.

Or life as she knew it, at least.

“It’s not Gaston’s fault.” She plopped into a chair and dropped the magic masking her wings and halo. She didn’t have the energy to keep up the charade.

“You see?” He gestured at her. “It’s not my fault.”

Jane snorted. “You know how the demons stay tame. You didn’t stop to think the cake might’ve been magical?”

“Why would I? It was sitting right next to my pudding.” He crossed his arms.

“It was a mistake. He didn’t know.” Destiny dropped her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands. “I’ll lose my wings over this for sure.”

“No, you won’t.” Jane sank into the seat across from her. “And speaking of wings…wow! If perfection had a poster child, you would be it. I’ve never seen you in all your angelic gloriousness.”

Destiny forced out a sardonic laugh and laid her arms on the table. “I’m the farthest from perfect an angel can be. I gave the frigging Easter Bunny amnesia. I don’t deserve wings. Or this.” She gestured at the golden ring floating atop her head.

“It’s not your fault.” Jane rested a hand on hers.

“I left the cake there. It’s my fault.”

Jane pursed her lips. “You only left it there because I smashed a plate onto your dress. If I’d been more careful, you wouldn’t have rushed into the kitchen.”

“So you do take responsibility…” Gaston teased.

Jane stuck out her tongue. “I’m just saying that a string of events led to Pete’s brain turning into a dust bunny. You didn’t force-feed him. Surely, your boss will see that.”

She shrugged. “So what if she does? Easter will be here in a few weeks. How will that work without the Easter Bunny?”

“The same way Christmas would have worked without Santa. It won’t.” Gaston stood with his hands behind his back, staring out the window. “You will have to remedy the situation quickly. Pete was already on a mission to save Easter.”

“It needed saving before I blanked his mind?”

“Several fae hens have been murdered. Drained of blood. The rest aren’t laying eggs.” Gaston turned toward them. “That is why he traveled here. He needed help.”

“Hot damn.” Jane slapped her hand on the table. “The timing couldn’t be more perfect.”

Destiny’s eye twitched. No eggs, no antidote for angel magic, a bunny who was MIA. “I don’t see?—”

“Think about it. After everything that happened, what will it take to save Easter?”

She lifted a hand and dropped it on the table. “A mira…cle.” She sucked in a sharp breath. “It’ll take a miracle.”

Jane flashed a conspiratorial grin. “And I know just the angel to make it happen.”

Could this be it? The thing that would save her immortality? Easter in peril was way more important than a gator shifter’s left testicle. It was certainly miracle-worthy.

“You’re right.” Unable to fight her smile, she rose and tucked her chair under the table. “They can’t possibly reject saving Easter.”

Jane swiped her phone screen. “It’s three weeks away.”

“And I have two.” She bounced on her toes, a giddy sensation expanding in her stomach.

“You’ve got this, sister.” Jane stood, joining in her excitement.

Destiny strode behind the counter and opened her laptop. The keys clicked at lightning speed beneath her fingers as she filled out the miracle request form. She hit enter and closed the computer. “ We’ve got this.”

“How can I help?” Jane asked.

She activated her glamour, hiding her wings and halo. “First things first. We have to find Pete.”