“I’ll just be going,” I said, struggling to my feet. My leg was fine, but my arms shook, and my breath came erratically. With local vampires watching my every move, where would I go? How would I feed?
“Nonsense, you’re coming with us,” she said, turning on her heel and walking out the door. She pointed to the young vampire and the one who wore glasses. “Percy and Hugo, stay and clean this place up.”
I had to practically run to keep up with her and the tall, scarred vampire who’d watched my torture. “You’ll need someone to show you around,” she explained, pausing only slightly. “This is Buxton,” she said, grabbing the elbow of the vampire with the long scar.
We walked down street after street until we neared a church with a tall spire.
“We’re here,” she said, turning sharply to enter a wrought-iron gate. Her boots echoed against a slate path that led to the rear of a house. She opened the door, and a musty scent greeted me. Buxton immediately walked through the parlor and up a set of stairs, leaving me and the young female vampire alone in the darkness.
“Welcome home,” she said, spreading her hands wide. “There are plenty of spare rooms upstairs. Find one that suits you.”
“Thank you.” As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I took in my surroundings. Black velvet curtains fastened with golden rope blocked every window. Dust motes floated in the air, and gilt-framed paintings covered the walls. The furniture was threadbare, and I could just make out two sweeping staircases with what looked like oriental runners and, in the next room, a piano. Though at one point this must have been a grand house, now the soiled walls were cracked and peeling, and cobwebs draped over the gold-and-crystal chandelier above us.
“Always enter through the back. Never draw back the curtains. Don’t ever bring anyone here. Do you understand, Stefan?” She looked at me pointedly.
“Yes,” I said, running a finger along the marble fireplace, cutting a path in the inch-thick dust.
“Then I think you will like it here,” she said.
I turned to face her, nodding in agreement. My panic had subsided, and my arms no longer trembled.
“I’m Lexi,” she said, holding out her hand, allowing me to raise it to my lips and kiss it. “I have a feeling that you and I will be friends for a long time.”
I awoke next as dusk was settling over the city. From my window, I could see the goldfish-orange sun sinking low behind a white steeple. The entire house was silent, and for a moment, I couldn’t remember where I was. Then everything came back: the butcher shop, the vampires, me being flung against the wall.
Lexi.
As if on cue, she glided into the room, barely making a sound as she pushed open the door. Her blond hair was loose around her shoulders, and she was wearing a simple black dress. If looked at quickly, she could be mistaken for a child. But I could tell from the slight creases around her eyes and the fullness of her lips that she’d been a full-grown woman, probably around nineteen or twenty. I had no idea how many years she’d seen since then.
She perched on the edge of my bed, smoothing back my hair.
“Good evening, Stefan,” she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. She clutched a tumbler of dark liquid between her fingers. “You slept,” she noted.
I nodded. Until I’d sunk into the featherbed on the third floor of the house, I hadn’t realized that I’d barely slept in the past week. Even on the train, I’d always been twitching, aware of the sighs and snores of my fellow passengers and always, always the steady thrum of blood coursing through their veins. But here no heartbeats had kept me from slumber.
“I brought this for you,” she said, proffering the glass. I pushed it away. The blood in it smelled stale, sour.
“You need to drink,” she said, sounding so much like me speaking to Damon that I couldn’t help but feel a tiny pang of irritation—and sorrow. I brought the tumbler to my lips and took a tiny sip, fighting the urge to spit it out. As I expected, the drink tasted like dank water and the scent made me feel vaguely ill.
Lexi smiled to herself, as if enjoying a private joke. “It’s goat’s blood. It’s good for you. You’ll make yourself sick, the way you were feeding. A diet made exclusively of human blood isn’t good for the digestion. Or the soul.”
“We don’t have souls,” I scoffed. But I brought the cup to my lips once more.
Lexi sighed and took the tumbler, placing it on the nightstand next to me. “So much to learn,” she whispered, almost to herself.
“Well, we have nothing but time, right?” I pointed out. I was rewarded with a rich laugh, which was surprisingly loud and throaty coming from her waif-like body.
“You catch on quickly. Come. Get up. It’s time to show you our city,” she said, handing me a plain white shirt and trousers.
After changing, I followed her down the creaking wooden stairs to where the other vampires milled about in the ballroom. They were dressed up, but all looked faintly old-fashioned, as if they’d stepped out of one of the many portraits on the wall. Hugo sat at the piano, playing an out-of-tune rendition of Mozart while wearing a blue velvet cape. Buxton, the hulking, violent vampire, was wearing a loose, ruffled, white shirt. and Percy had on faded britches and suspenders that made him look as though he were running late to play a game of ball with his schoolmates.
When they saw me, the vampires froze. Hugo managed a slight nod, but the rest merely stared in stony silence.
“Let’s go!” Lexi commanded, leading our group out the door, down the slate path, through zigzagging alleyways, and finally onto a street marked Bourbon. Each entryway led to a dimly lit bar, from which inebriated patrons stumbled out into the night air. Suggestively clad women gathered in clumps beneath awnings, and revelers acted punch-drunk, ready to laugh or fight at a moment’s notice. I instantly knew why Lexi took us here. Despite our odd attire, we attracted no more attention than any of the other lively revelers.
As we walked, the others flanked me, keeping me in the center of their circle at all times. I knew I was being watched sharply, and I tried to remain unaffected by the scent of blood and the rhythm of beating hearts.
“Here!” Lexi said, not bothering to consult the rest of the group as she pushed open a saloon door that read MILADIES in curlicue script. I was impressed by her boldness—back in Mystic Falls, only women of ill repute would ever enter a barroom. But as I was fast realizing, New Orleans wasn’t Mystic Falls.
The floor of Miladies was caked with sawdust, and I winced at the overwhelmingly acrid smell of sweat, whiskey, and cologne. The tables were packed shoulder to shoulder with men playing cards, gambling, and gossiping. One entire side of the room was filled with Union soldiers, and in another corner, a motley band consisting of players with an accordion, two fiddles, and a flute was playing a jaunty rendition of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic.”
“What do you think?” Lexi asked, leading me to the bar.
“Is this a Union bar?” I asked. The Union army had captured the city some months back, and soldiers stood sentinel on nearly every corner, maintaining order and reminding Confederates that the war they were fighting looked to be a losing cause.
“Yes. You know what that means, right?”
I scanned the room. Aside from the soldiers, it was a solitary crowd. Single men drowned their loneliness at wooden tables, barely acknowledging their neighbors. The bartenders filled glasses with a mechanical air, never seeming to register the people for whom they poured their wares.
I understood immediately. “Everyone here is a stranger passing through.”
“Exactly.” Lexi smiled, clearly pleased that I was catching on.
Buxton cleared his throat in disapproval. I could tell he didn’t like me—that he was waiting for me to slip up so he could stake me without incurring Lexi’s wrath.
“Hugo, find us a table!” Lexi commanded. Hugo walked his hulkish frame over to a rough-hewn table next to the band. Before he could even open his mouth, the blue-coated soldiers at the table glanced at each other and stood up, leaving half-filled mugs behind.
Lexi pulled out two chairs. “Stefan, sit next to me.”
I sat, vaguely embarrassed that I was so compliant, like a child. But I reminded myself that even Hugo followed her lead. Lexi had Power, and she knew how to use it.
Percy, Hugo, and Buxton also settled around.
“Now,” Lexi said, taking one of the abandoned beer mugs and waving it around in the air, just as the waitress approached us. “Let’s teach you how to behave in public.”
My cheeks flushed with anger. “I am behaving,” I said through clenched teeth. “Despite the fact that there are so many people that it’s nearly impossible to concentrate.”
Percy and Hugo snickered.
“He’s not ready . . .” Buxton said in a surly tone.
“Yes, he is.” Lexi’s words were low and slightly menacing. Buxton clenched his jaw, clearly trying to rein in his temper. I shifted in my chair. I suddenly felt like I was ten years old again, with Damon protecting me from the Giffin brothers. Only this time it was a girl standing up for me. I was about to point out that I didn’t need Lexi to answer for me when she placed a hand on my knee. The touch was gentle and calmed me.
“It gets easier,” she said, briefly catching my eyes. “So, lesson one,” she stated, addressing the entire group. A kindness on her part, I realized, since I was the only one who didn’t know the finer points of being a vampire. “Lesson one is learning how to compel without drawing attention to yourself.” She leaned back and eyed the band. “I don’t like this song. Stefan, what song would you like to hear?”
“Uh . . .” I glanced around the table, confused. Percy snickered again, but stopped when Lexi glared at him. “‘God Save the South’?” I said hesitantly. The first thing that came to my head, it was a tune Damon used to whistle when he was on leave from the army.