My name is Veronica.
The setting sun warmed my back some as I made my way down Bourbon Street, marveling at the variety of shops, which offered every tool imaginable to fit into the city. Metallic Mardi Gras beads of green, purple, and gold filled the shops. Some were strings of beads; others alternated beads with doubloons or alligators. Masks lined the walls. Some sprouted elegant peacock feathers, while others were simple black and white bands to cover the eyes. No matter what disguise sightseers chose, it enabled them to lose their inhibitions, or hide behind the fancy feathers, drifting, undisturbed, among the throngs of people.
Numerous shot glasses stocked shelves, just the thing the inebriated tourist needed. My favorite tourist trapping was the T-shirt covered in the word “fuck.” It was amusing, but something I’d never buy, even though I’m sure my ex would have.
Devon would fit in here better than I did. He’d easily get lost in a stupor and be cursed by some Voodoo High Priest. He knew how to piss off the right people.
This was my first visit to The Big Easy, and I wasn’t entirely sure why I’d ended up here. I had hoped it would ease my restlessness, but I wasn’t sure. Even if that didn’t happen, I hoped I’d discover a way to put Devon out of my mind for good. He followed me everywhere I went. When I looked behind me to see if he was there, I’d realize my mind was playing tricks on me. Our last encounter winked through my mind, and I shivered at the memory.
I had grabbed a handful of money after he had broken my cheekbone. I was used to his fist. The pain was dull compared to the other humiliations I had suffered at his hand. I had told him I was getting something to eat. Finally finding my courage, I had flown from the house, never looking back. Now his memory haunted me as I tried to remember how to live, learning how to feel and regain what he had taken away from me.
I wasn’t used to the heavy moisture in the air; I’d come here from the crystalline crispness of Boston, where the seasons changed and the streets were lined with people who didn’t understand the meaning of hospitality. Here, people didn’t assume I was going to mug them when I said hello.
I had always tried to blend in with the populace up north, but as much as I tried, they never accepted me. People seemed like aliens. I had always blended with the night, choosing black garments and other things that categorized me as goth. Corsets and clothes within the fetish world—vinyl, leather—anything to derive pain. That was how I knew I was still alive. Devon had trained me to believe that there was no more love in my heart. He lived to bring pain and fear. Sometimes I felt like some kind of monster, living the way I did. Several times I went against him and tried to live righteously, but every time I found some semblance of peace, he always pulled me back in.
Most of society called us nightkind freaks. I liked being outside of the norm in that sense and here I felt almost at home. I’d encountered other goths, stepping through the misty world, and I wondered if I could share my secrets with them. Only another true creature of darkness would understand the nightmare my life had turned into.
My name is Brenna.
Strolling down Bourbon Street, I listened to the music floating out of the clubs. I’d been walking indiscreetly up and down the Rue for almost two hours with my gums aching and the hollowness in my stomach growing.
I rested my tongue on one fang carefully. I grew bored of the drunken games many of the tourists played. Idiotic men barked at women, demanding to see their tits as if it were the biggest thrill. I groaned as one asked the same of me. I smiled weakly and then hissed, loving it as he fell on his ass, beer squirting out his nose as he spilled the rest on himself. More people ventured out into the hot, humid evening, looking for dinner or to shop in the tacky stores that lined the street. I wanted nothing to do with them.
I thought of the Lovers card I had pulled from my tarot deck earlier. It seemed Fate amused itself with me, as it always did. No matter how many times I thought I had discerned my own path, Fate threw me back on the course that it had plotted before I was born. There was no way to get away from it. It had thrown me on the path of working as a psychic when I never asked for it. Like tonight, it was leading me on a journey I couldn’t see the end of—that was why I distrusted the whole system. I stopped, leaning against the front of one of the many strip clubs. From my vantage point, I could see up and down the street. A breeze kicked up, cooling me a little and taking thoughts of my hunger from me.
While watching the pedestrians, something caught my eye. A big, green hand grenade danced outside of a bar, enticing people to come in for the bar’s signature drink. It was the strongest known to mankind.
My eyes wandered from the grenade and over the tourists, trying to pinpoint one who wouldn’t be missed. Most traveled in groups and were not so easy to pick off. Suddenly the crowd parted, as if the gods had chosen for me, and a single male strolled my way. He had a drink in his hand. I licked my lips in anticipation. My stomach rumbled. I could already hear the rubbing of his jeans as he walked. His brown hair reminded me of chocolate, and his sculpted shoulders and lips were all to my liking.
I could see myself running a hand over his chiseled chest. His ass would be great to hold onto when he was driving into me. My hands wanted to explore every part of him. His lips would be full and would know what parts of me to explore as his hands played over my tits. I would laugh in his ear as he tickled my neck, thinking he could have his way with me. Then, as he moved his hard length deep inside of me, I would rise up and let him see what he had bedded. His eyes would open wide in fear, but he would be so caught up in his orgasm it wouldn’t matter.
Then my fangs would pierce his throat as easily as his dick had slipped into me. Moans of unfulfilled pleasure would escape his lips, and I would drink my fill.
Yes, he would be very, very good.
My heart sped up some as I imagined what the oncoming night would be like. I stepped forward, centering my attention on him, when a woman collided with me.
Crazy bitch
, I thought.
I growled low in my throat and looked up at the woman who had bumped into me. She kept going, not bothering to stop. She kept glancing behind her, into the hordes of people. I turned to see what she was searching for, but saw nothing. Focusing on my prey for the evening, I realized he had been swallowed up.
That did it. If I couldn’t have him, she was mine.
I marched after her, darting in between the groups, closing the distance. I kept focused on her, but even though I followed closely, she never saw me as she kept checking over her shoulder. Something about her piqued my curiosity. I honed my mind and cast a line into her like hooking onto a fish. I brushed her thoughts and emotions, catching her name as well as the circumstances that had driven her to this city. Her name was Veronica, and she had run from an ex-boyfriend who had beaten her within inches of her life several times. She’d finally left, and underneath her fear of him, there was something else, a secret she tried desperately to keep walled away almost like a separate part of her personality.
I stayed attached only briefly. There were so many people on Bourbon Street; I didn’t want to take the chance of their emotions settling in with mine. She was the only one I was concerned about. My rage from losing my prey died while waves of sympathy filled me. She may have been a loner and easy to pick off, but I had a soft spot for powerless victims.
She strode faster, weaving through the throngs of people because she assumed she might encounter her ex in New Orleans. Her fear was strong enough to drive her close to insanity, but beneath it laid happiness, struggling to survive. Each day she was away from her ex it grew stronger. It was this sense of feeling that had enabled her to break free from the abuse. I had to cultivate this seed within her.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually loved someone. Each time I woke from my slumber, I had searched the night to ease my hunger for humanity. Even as I thought of this, I bit my lower lip, causing blood to seep into my mouth.
I swallowed the coppery fluid, letting it settle into my growling stomach. I licked my lips absently. Thoughts of my lost food vanished. I knew I’d sate my desires later.
Quickening my pace, I sensed someone watching me—which on Bourbon Street, of course, was everyone. However, this was different. Someone in particular watched me. My anger ignited at the invasion.
How dare anyone try to scan me
, I thought. Then a tingling, an itching, started in the back of my brain, signaling my ignited psychic abilities, which normally warned me of impending doom. Scanning the street, I ignored the feeling, assuming it was a cautioning about Veronica and her ex-boyfriend. I smirked at the counsel, knowing nothing would happen to me.
I focused my attention on the entity observing me. It invaded my thoughts, forcing me to find it. I pushed against the presence, not used to having another in my brain. I followed it back to its source like a ball of yarn leading me out of a labyrinth and saw him directly across the street.
His hands were folded across his chest. One knee lifted, his foot resting against the brick wall behind him as if he knew I would find him with ease. An open black leather vest exposed his marble white chest. Skintight black leather pants clung to his form. His hair was black and spiked. He reveled in the fact that he held my attention so easily and grinned at me. The hint of fang gleamed in his smile.
I nodded in return. I had encountered several other nocturnal creatures in the city, but I normally ignored them. I didn’t like to be crowded in my hunting grounds. Besides, there were plenty of victims in the city to go around. I wondered why he sought my attention. Maybe he wanted Veronica for himself. However, as our connection hummed, I doubted that.
An image of him kissing my neck played in my mind. The feel of phantom hands played over my arms as they traced the skin up to my neck and cupped my chin. The feel of his lips pressed against mine as he held my gaze. I smiled slyly as the creature across from me tried to show me what it would be like to be with him. I was not keen on the intrusion into my mind, but he was definitely making me think twice about what I had been planning with the mortal man I had lost earlier. His thoughts whispered that he could show me a night like no other. What could a mortal do that he wouldn’t be able to do so much better? If I hadn’t been so enamored with Veronica, I might have taken him up on his offer.
Veronica ducked into a restaurant just down the way. I sized up the man and felt no threat from him. His tether evaporated from my mind. I snuck a glance away from his piercing eyes. Through the restaurant window, I saw Veronica being seated by a waitress. When I looked back toward the man, he was gone.
A shiver ran down my back. The thought he had planted in my brain vanished, and I was able to concentrate on Veronica again. Still a part of me wondered what he wanted with me. Was it more than just sex? There were always ulterior motives behind our porcelain faces. What would it be like to be with another of my kind? I had never had that before. He left a part of me intrigued by the idea. I shook my head, realizing I had almost fallen under his spell as if I were a mortal. I had to be careful and remember I was something else, a creature of the shadows who answered to no one.
I slipped into the restaurant easily without the hostess noticing. It was fun playing with the minds of my prey. Choosing a table, I ordered a drink. My ears perked at the traditional sounds of jazz from the house band. The tune carried me away, taking me back to a time when my life had been much simpler, when I couldn’t divine the future or peer into others’ minds. To when I was younger and not so cut off from humanity. As a whisper of serenity came to my brain, my reverie was broken. My eyes snapped open. I gave the waitress a coy smile as she brought my drink and asked for my order. I brushed her away to look at Veronica.
Even after years of battering, her complexion remained perfect. Shoulder length black hair floated around her face, making her appear like a dark angel. Misty purple, her sad eyes peered out from under uneven bangs, and I found myself drawn to them. After so many years of searching, I didn’t have to be lonely anymore. With Veronica here, feet from me, my heart leapt into my throat as I sipped my drink. There was a strength in her I could relate to. Whatever her dark secret, I was sure she would share it with me.
The hint of designer fangs peeked out from a white-painted face. I could see the grains of the makeup easily. I almost chuckled as I realized what she was doing. She hid behind a disguise, trying to be like me. Like many goths before her, she sought solace in the guise of my brethren. In this, we were sisters. Veronica’s sadness hung about her like an ancient birthright. Her shoulders sagged under the weight of some unknown defeat. Every movement shouted her story. Try as she might to stay optimistic about life, to hold onto some kind of light in her life, her ex had taken her soul and left nothing save a stony abyss. Even with her weighty burdens, I knew I could make her forget the drama of her past.
Two women cackled for the band to go on as they finished their set. I smiled as their companions covered their eyes, pretending not to know them. No pity crossed my mind. It was their own fault the women had gotten drunk. Humans were so quick to indulge themselves. I licked my lips, thinking I was not so unlike them.
I focused on one of the drunken women, moving into her thoughts. It was actually quite easy since she was intoxicated. Almost like scanning a large-print book, the words and her thoughts stood out on the screen of her mind. They were not about bedding her husband. On the contrary, her eyes kept straying to Veronica. She was attracted to her for some reason her haze-filled brain didn’t understand. She saw her lips on Veronica’s. Her hands discovered the other woman’s flesh beneath clothing. I bit my lip. This was unacceptable. Veronica was mine.
Narrowing my focus, I plunged a little deeper into the drunken bitch’s mind. Tweaking her desire, I turned her attention to the bartender, whom she had eyed when she came in. He reminded her of an old high school crush. I made it so she wanted to leap over the bar and have the bartender fuck her on the counter in sight of everyone. The woman even began to take a few teetering steps toward the bar. I held back a smile.
Satisfied, I withdrew my tether from the inebriated tourist and focused again on Veronica. She had calmed a bit after her imagined pursuit and was content to listen to the band. Her ease washed over me as I drank in the emotions that helped to calm my aroused hunger. I took another sip of my drink. Signaling the waitress with a raised hand, I whispered that I wanted a drink delivered to Veronica. The server leaned in close, trying to catch my hushed voice over the tuning of a guitar. As my hand accidentally brushed the curve of her breast, I felt the nipple harden through her bra. Her pupils dilated from the sudden caress. Sadness and inflamed desire rose in her mind. Feeling playful, I pushed my mind into hers, using my emotions to promise her secret dreams.
I created pictures of her straining against me, my fingers buried inside her. She felt the softness of my lips on her, the wetness of my tongue encircling her areola, working the changing texture. She saw herself tickling my neck with her long fingers, but in the end it was she who gave up total control.
Her breath quickened as she became caught up in the vision. I pushed the images deep into her unconscious so she could return to reality and remember me in her own way. She blinked, coming out the daze, and left my table a little shaken to put in my order. Minutes later, she delivered the drink to Veronica. I caught the server’s gaze sweeping over to me, and a hint of pink came to her cheeks, but she couldn’t quite place what she was embarrassed about.
A look of puzzlement appeared on Veronica’s face as the server pointed at me. Veronica’s eyes followed her extended finger. I smiled carefully, keeping my teeth hidden.
Soon you’ll be mine
, I thought gleefully. I raised my glass, acknowledging her.
She nodded, testing the alcohol before taking a large sip. I smiled as Veronica tried not to look at me. Lightness encompassed my heart and blew away some of my own burdens. With her, I could explore all sides of reality. With her, the nights wouldn’t seem so long or frosty, and I might actually find a renewed joy in the silvery starlight that dotted the fabric of the night sky.