Page 7 of Relic

SEVEN

Sun streams through my window through the paper thin curtains, smacking me right in the face. I groan, flipping over in bed away from the offending morning light, but then I bolt upright.

Sun.

Shit.

What time is it?

Grabbing my phone from the nightstand, I exhale slowly when I see it’s only eight. I have an hour to get to my new job. Sliding from bed, I stretch my arms above my head, bending my back slightly. Except for the brief panic attack, I feel extremely well rested.

While I brush my teeth and let the shower water heat, visions of Horatio being here come back to me in flashes. I remember he walked me home, and we talked while I ate. It’s all a little fuzzy after that. It has to be all the newness around me wearing me out.

After my shower, I throw on my nicest pair of slacks and a button down blue shirt. I should have asked about the dress code. Did I? I can’t remember, but Horatio was wearing a suit and that other lady there had on a dress. Hopefully, this is okay.

I grab a banana and head out, hurrying to get to the store on time. The air is sticky, the upcoming heat of the day already pushing back the morning reprieve. The smells of beignets and other delightful dishes wafts from the many restaurants I pass, tempting me to go in, but I’m on a mission. A paying job!

When I turn the corner where Relic is located, two women stand outside, peering through the window. They try the door, but it’s locked.

“Um excuse me.”

They both look at me. “It’s not open,” the darker-haired woman says.

“I know. It opens at eleven. I work here.”

“Oh. Can we peek in?” the other woman asks.

“I don’t think so. It’s my first day so I’m not sure, but they seem pretty strict about hours and stuff. You should come back though. It’s really cool inside.”

The two women nod, thank me, and then turn to leave. I tap on the door, hoping they can hear me inside. I don’t want Horatio to think I was late. When no one comes a minute later, I knock louder. “Come on, Horatio.”

Suddenly, I hear the latch of the door unlock, and the mysterious man appears. “Hello, Emery.”

“Hi. I didn’t see you coming to the door.”

“It’s dark inside yet. Please come in.”

“Thank you.”

I step inside, and Horatio looks both ways down the sidewalk before locking the door behind me. “Any trouble on the way here?”

“None. Should I expect trouble?”

“No. Just asking. Come with me to the back.”

I follow the imposing man through the tiny, dark space. “Have you ever considered expanding to a bigger space?”

“No.”

Nodding, I shut up. I guess he’s not going to elaborate.

“Please sit.” Horatio motions to the couch.

I sit, glancing around the even darker, smaller space. I have a sense of a vague deja vu. “Do you live here?”

“No.” He pours two glasses of something pinkish red in color, handing me one as he joins me on the couch. “I have a home not far from here. This is a place to rest during the day. You’re welcome anytime the store isn’t busy.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course. Don’t you remember? I told you about the studio space at my house where you could work on your art.”

A vague memory flashes in my mind. I study the drink. “What is this?”

“Juice.”

I take a sip, smiling at the fruity, if unrecognizable taste. “Good.”

“It is. Old family recipe. Did you sleep well?”

“Definitely. It’s so weird. Since getting to New Orleans, I sleep better than I ever have.”

“Did you have trouble sleeping before?”

“Kind of.” I shrug, not wanting to elaborate, but Horatio’s piercing gaze forces the words from my lips. “I was with this guy. Linx. He’s a bad dude. Into bad stuff.”

“Like?”

“Drugs. Crime. A total thug. I didn’t know that when it started, of course. You wouldn’t think it from looking at him.”

“What happened?”

“It started so slowly, I hardly noticed. At first it was hey, can you take this bag somewhere, then it was can you collect this payment. Next thing I knew, I was working for him, surrounded by really scary people, and no clue how to get away. He would tell me if I ever left, he would hunt me down.”

Horatio’s jaw twitches. “Did he harm you?”

“A couple of times. He likes to shove me around, and he was aggressive during…” The words fall short. Ugh, I’m so embarrassed.

“Sex? Were you lovers?”

I nod as my cheeks flame. “He liked to humiliate me, but I believe he loved me in his way, you know? He just didn’t support my art or anything.”

“How did you get here?”

“Things came to a head. He wanted me to take someone out. This guy couldn’t pay, but I couldn’t do it. I’m not a murderer. Linx made me watch while they beat the guy to death. It was awful. I knew it was a matter of time before the same thing happened to me. That night I packed up my stuff and took off. I even left most of my art behind. I picked the place where I didn’t think he’d ever come looking for me.”

“Do you fear him?”

“Yeah, but the reading I had, he said someone whose name starts with an O would cause me trouble, but I don’t know anyone with a name like that. All I can think is maybe Linx hired someone with an O name.” I shake my head. “That seems off though. He’d definitely hunt me down himself.”

“With an O, you say?”

“Yeah. I haven’t met the person yet.”

Horatio nods, studying my face. “You’re safe now, Emery. I assure you.”

I search his face for a few seconds, my eyes locking on his. “The psychic said you basically run the French Quarter.”

He smiles. “I have some influence, yes.”

“You must have a lot of people interested in you. Dating you, I mean.” What? Where did that come from? Why am I so weird around Horatio?

As Horatio’s eyes soften, a feeling of warmth falls over me. “Perhaps, but I’m extremely picky about who I share my bed with.”

I bet his bed is nice. I wonder what he’s like as a lover. Is he rough? Tender? Would he ever find someone like me attractive? Does he always smell so good? Does his house?

He smiles, almost as if he can read my thoughts. “Morticia will be here at ten to give you some instruction about the register and our ordering system. Until then, I’ve prepared some history of our city for you to read through. Tourists enjoy it when we can add to their experience.”

“Like pretending you’re really vampires? The For Hire sign is hilarious.”

An amused look crosses his face. “Yes, like that.”

“I know I don’t really know her, but I get the vibe that Morticia didn’t really want me here.”

“Morticia is fine. She doesn’t trust mort—” He clears his throat. “Strangers. She’ll warm up.”

“I want to do a good job.”

“I have no doubt you will.” Reaching out he cups my chin. “And you won’t have to do anything illegal.”

I nod, gazing into his eyes. “Good.”

“Tell me, bon bon, what does Linx look like?”

“Um…” I blink hard as if I was under some kind of spell. “I have a picture.” I pull my phone from my back pocket and scroll to find one of us together before everything went to shit.

Horatio studies the photo. On the surface, Linx looks like your average thirty-something guy, with stylish good looks and trendy clothes. He’s the clean cut, Ivy League type, but there’s a darkness in his heart that no amount of love could ever reach. I tried.

“He’s attractive,” Horatio notes.

“On the outside.”

“Where did you live with him?”

“Atlanta.”

“He won’t hurt you. You’re under my protection now.”

Something about his words brings back a hazy memory, but it’s gone before I can focus on it.

“Read up and drink your juice. It’s good for you.”

“Thanks.”

I watch him pass through the beads to the front and sink back on the couch, opening the folder he left out for me. I choose the first document, A History of Vampires in New Orleans.

Well, this should be interesting. Everything in this city is.