Chapter 6

"You need to turn—"

Jude had already made a left before I could tell him exactly where to go. I stopped giving him directions. He made the next one—correctly—without a word from me.

"You know where I live?"

A stiff nod.

The fact that he'd stalked me to my home at some point should make me nervous. It didn't, and that was worrisome.

"So," I said, swallowing a little pride. "I've given it some thought, and I think you're right. I do need preparation or training or whatever as a Vessel."

Amusement played across his dark features, though he never took his eyes from the road.

"Of course," he agreed with no hint of smugness, though I knew he was just hiding it well. Grand illusionist, this one. "When would you like to meet?"

"When are you available?"

He stopped at a red light. Obsidian eyes shimmering with flecks of gold held mine for a moment. He picked up his cell phone from the console and clicked on the calendar app.

"What time are your classes scheduled on Monday?"

Ha! He didn't know everything about me.

"I'm open from noon to four."

"Noon, then."

He plugged in our meeting time and date, then set the phone back on the console. Okay, I'm not usually a sneaky or nosy person, but I couldn't help it. He'd left his weekly calendar open, so I saw the appointment he had scheduled for tonight: Kat—Jackson Square—10:00.

Kat? Jude had a girlfriend? Inside me, the green-eyed monster narrowed her feline eyes, growling and spitting at the prospect.

What was I thinking? No matter my initial impressions of this guy, I knew he was not dating material. Kitty better retract her claws and get over it.

"Are you feeling all right? Do your stitches hurt?"

How did he notice my shifting mood so fast? He was like an emo-detector.

"I'm fine. Just tired," I lied.

He pulled up the drive of our small duplex. David's car wasn't in the driveway, thankfully. I didn't feel like dealing with the saccharine-sweet couple at the moment.

I suddenly felt on edge. Now that Jude had successfully saved my life, twice, I felt protected with him. As much as my pride bristled at being dependent on him or anyone else for that matter, the thought of being alone terrified me.

I'd been wondering if I should even come back here, imagining a red-eyed demon breaking in, abducting me, and killing Mindy in the process. Yeah, she was little, but she was feisty. No way would she cower and hide if my life were in danger.

"Can I call you if I have, you know, visitors?"

"You will be safe. While in this building, no demon will be able to detect your presence."

"Wait, you can cast illusions on a place?"

"Some Flamma can."

He smiled. My heart fluttered. I wish he'd smile more often. On second thought, I was glad he didn't.

"What do you mean by some? Why not all?"

"The power of using illusion depends upon the strength of the user."

"So, I'm guessing that hiding whole buildings takes a pretty powerful user."

"Correct." His steady gaze pinned me in place, dropping to my mouth before skating away. When a flame of heat crawled up my neck, he quickly stepped out and came around to open my door.

"Guess that makes me a lucky girl that you wandered into Tartarus that night," I said as we came to a stop outside the door of the duplex.

He grew very quiet and still, gazing down at me. Unreadable thoughts flitted behind heavy-lidded eyes. When he spoke, his deep voice had dipped another octave.

"Do not go anywhere alone outside of this house, Genevieve." His command was serious, his voice rumbling with danger. "Do you understand me?"

Ordinarily, I didn't let guys order me around like that, but my survival instincts told me to simply nod in agreement. So I did.

The deep frown creasing his brow softened a fraction. "I'll see you at noon on Monday."

I nodded again. The curtains by the door fluttered. I ducked my head and skirted past him. After bolting the lock behind me, I spun around to find Mindy propped on the sofa with a stupid-wide grin plastered on her face.

"O! M! G! Who was that? Was that him? Was that the guy from the club? He is so hot. No, he's beyond hot! What happened? Where did you see him again?"

She spat out a string of questions. When she finally paused to suck air into her little lungs, I attempted to explain.

"Yes, that was the guy. I was—"

Her squeal pierced my ears. "Did y'all have sex? Please tell me you did!"

"No! Geez, Mindy, I just met the guy!"

"Well, I know, but damn, did you look at him? It's like Vampire Diaries showing up on your doorstep."

"There's no such thing as vampires, Mindy." And who did I sound like right now?

"You're right," she said, perking up with a devilish smile, "but he is definitely real."

I sat down on the loveseat, wincing as the bandage rubbed the stitches.

"Oh no. Are you okay? Does your stomach hurt or something?"

"Actually, I was mugged right outside the dojo."

"You're kidding!"

I'd already come up with this excuse, an easy one for her to believe. Mindy and I'd been mugged once during Mardi Gras.

We had wandered too far from our group on Canal Street to find a bathroom. Finding an available restroom in New Orleans during Mardi Gras was like scouring the Sahara searching for a swimming pool. Of course, we turned down a remote alley in our ridiculous nothing-can-harm-me, life-is-perfect giddiness. What can I say? We were sixteen and reckless and stupid. This scruffy-looking guy pushed us into a niche in the wall and demanded money. I checked to see if he had a gun. He didn't. I grabbed Mindy's hand and ran. He chased us until we reached the next street, where tons of people milled up and down.

Till the other night at Tartarus, that was my first and only brush with death. Sadly, I sensed there would be more in my future.

"Yeah," I continued. "I locked up the dojo for Dad, and this guy jumped out of nowhere. In the struggle, he cut me. Luckily, Jude came and ran the guy off."

Okay, actually, none of that was a lie. I just left out minor facts—three guys, not one; demons, not humans; attempted kidnapping, not mugging. And, oh yeah, Jude killed one and scared the bejeezus out of the other two with his badass demon-killer mojo.

"Oh my God! Seriously, Gen. Are you okay? Did you call the police?"

"No. My dad has enough to worry about. If he knew this, he'd never let me out of the house alone again."

This was definitely true.

"Let me see." She hobbled over on her wrapped ankle as I lifted my shirt.

"It's not as bad as it seems," I lied, so happy the wound was still covered by the bandage.

"Yikes! It's really big. Thank goodness your hottie showed up. Why was he there?"

I ignored her reference to Jude being mine. That was beyond laughable. Could a demon hunter like Jude actually ever belong to anyone? However, I had come up with a decent lie for him being there.

"When I met him the other night, I'd told him where I worked. He mentioned he was a black belt."

"Of course he is."

"He was looking for my dad."

"Of course he was."

"He wants to do some moonlighting at the dojo."

"Of course he does."

"Stop it!"

Mindy had that wicked gleam in her eyes. "You stop it. He's totally into you. And now he's saved you from some crazy creeper on the streets? It's like a requirement that you two now have some kind of passionate love affair."

She sighed, leaning back with a purple throw pillow clutched to her chest, gazing up at the ceiling.

There was no harm in letting her believe her delusions. Better to let her think that than know the truth. The very idea of Jude being into me sent chills through my body all the way to the bone—terrifying, mind-numbing, body-shaking chills. I picked up the other throw pillow and chucked it at her face.

"Ow!" She giggled.

We laughed the way girls laugh about hot guys. I popped two heaping bowls of buttery popcorn, made us some Coke Zero slushies, then we settled onto the sofas with fleece blankets for an all-day marathon of Lord of the Rings. Mindy got her way last time with Harry Potter, so it was my turn. What I'd wanted for my birthday all along anyway.

I tried to deny that I had an ulterior motive, but I couldn't. Every time Aragorn swung his sword, the vision of another warrior came to mind. Darker, fiercer, and more beautiful beyond comparison.

"Thank you again,Malcolm, for giving me a ride," I told him as we packed our books to leave study group.

"No problem. I was happy to."

He beamed at me. I wondered for a second if this was a bad idea. Not that I thought he wasn't tough enough to frighten off a demon. Malcolm played rugby and filled out his six-one frame quite nicely. Much bigger than Steven, anyway. He would make that demon Fabio think twice before approaching.

I wondered if perhaps I'd given Malcolm the wrong impression. We'd always met up with Mary at the library for the study group. I hoped he wasn't reading into this.

I knew when a guy was crushing on me. And Malcolm definitely was. He kept our relationship sort of flirty-friendly, but I'd just crossed that boundary like an idiot in my own selfish need to get out of the apartment.

We left our study nook near the reference shelves—a graveyard of research materials time had forgotten—with Mary.

"I'm so sick of Milton. I'll be glad when we move on," sighed Mary.

"Same," I agreed right as my stomach growled."

"Hungry, guys?" asked Malcolm, holding the library door open for me. "Let's get something to eat." He'd had finished off his Skittles and DP an hour ago.

"Not me," said Mary, adjusting her glasses and shifting her I-heart-Poe satchel higher on her shoulder. "I've got work in the morning. And in addition to Bennett's torture device he calls a midterm on Monday, I've got one in Sociology too. I need sleep right now."

"How's the coffee biz?" asked Malcolm.

"Same ole, same ole. Everyone needs caffeine in a pretty cup with sugary foam on top."

I was only vaguely tuned in to the conversation as we walked to the parking lot, my mind wandering somewhere it shouldn't be. I couldn't help myself.

"How about beignets, Malcolm?" I asked, only half-concerned this might be construed as a mini-date.

"Sure. Awesome! There's a new café over on St. Charles we could go to."

"Nah. Let's get the real deal. Café du Monde."

"The Quarter? On a Saturday night?" he asked, obviously surprised by my suggestion.

"Y'all have fun," said Mary, walking toward her car across the lot.

"See ya, Mary," I called, looking back to Malcolm. "Yeah. Why not?"

I tried to sound casual as I climbed into his Jeep Cherokee. I knew "why not". Saturday night in the French Quarter meant a number of things—noise, drunks, tourists, street vendors looking for tips, drunks, bachelor parties gone awry, drunks. Need I say more? It was far from what most students would want after several grueling hours of studying.

"I'm in the mood for a little ambiance," I lied.

"If that's what you want, Drake, let's go."

I settled back into the seat, belted myself in, and tried to ignore the niggling fact that I wanted neither beignets nor Malcolm's company. My mind registered only two facts in determining our destination. Café du Monde was perfectly positioned with a wide view of Jackson Square. And it was nearly ten o'clock.