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No. Keeping my distance from Devraj Kumar was definitely the right decision, I assured myself as I walked upstairs, touching my lips one more time.

  Chapter 12

  ~ISADORA~

  * * *

  “Asshole,” muttered Jules as she stared down at her phone at the breakfast table, her coffee steaming beside her.

  I put the kettle on the stove, needing some caffeine this morning. I’d slept heavily last night after expending so much energy with Emma in the hospital. Still, I felt invigorated from using my magic to do such good for someone else. Don’t get me wrong. I loved my quiet healing spells with plants and the strays I helped at Angel Paws, but something about healing Emma had settled a new kind of contentment in my breast. Also, the interrogation afterward at The Green Light had exhausted me further. Not to mention the fact that I laid awake in my bed for quite some time, trying not to think of a pair of whiskey-warm brown eyes.

  I’d relayed everything to Jules that we’d learned from Darren Webber before I went to bed, so I wondered if something new had popped up.

  “What is it?” I asked, shuffling in my bare feet and pajamas to the table.

  Jules jerked her head up, her brow pinched into a deep frown. Then she snorted a disgusted laugh. “Oh, not much. Just perusing Ruben’s ratings on iBite.”

  “He sent you the invitation then.”

  She was engrossed again, her head down. “Listen to this one. ‘Mr. Dubois is so generous with his hosts, taking time to be sure the experience is as pleasurable for the host as it is for him. I highly recommend him if you’re lucky enough to be selected. I’d do anything he asked.’ Then there’s a winky emoji. I mean, come ON! She’s practically begging to sleep with him.”

  “Well, of course she is,” I snorted a laugh then met her steely gaze. Oops. “Have you seen Ruben, Jules? I’ll bet every single one of his blood hosts are trying to get into his pants.”

  If looks could kill, her silver guillotine-eyes would’ve decapitated me. So I added something I knew to be true and would unruffle her feathers. Maybe. She was in quite the tizzy.

  “But I know for a fact he doesn’t sleep with his blood hosts.”

  “How do you know that?” Her guarded expression flicked from her phone screen to me as she flipped through it furiously.

  “Tia told me that one of Ruben’s rules for The Green Light is that no vampires sleep with their hosts. Apparently, he says it’s dangerous.”

  “How do you mean?” Now she’d set her phone completely down, focusing on me.

  “Well, though I’ve never been bitten by a vampire, lore tells us that the bite itself can be addicting, right?” She nodded, then the kettle on the stove started to whistle. I hopped up to go and fix my tea. “Tia said that when you mix sex with the bloodsucking, it can be too heady a combo for humans. They become dangerously addicted to the vampire, and it’s resulted in seriously unhinged stalkers and stuff. She said he has a zero-tolerance policy about it at the club and only sanctions it for long-term couples who’ve signed written contracts with other rules and such. You should know this,” I couldn’t help accusing.

  I spooned some of the loose tea leaves of my own making from the greenhouse, a mixture to energize, into the silver strainer set in my cup and poured the hot water over it, the heady brew waking my senses.

  When I glanced up, Jules’s face was white as a sheet. “What do you mean? How would I know that?”

  “I mean, you’re an Enforcer. Didn’t Mom ever tell you this kind of stuff? I figured you had all the intel on the supernaturals.”

  I set the strainer with the soaked tea leaves in the sink and settled in my usual spot at the table beside her.

  She shifted nervously in her seat, sipping her coffee. Rather than answer my question, she asked me another. “How does Tia know so much about Ruben’s rules?”

  I couldn’t help grinning. “Apparently, she’s got a new boyfriend, her neighbor Marcus, and he does a lot of business with Ruben.”

  “The guy she put a hex on last Christmas and Evie had to intervene to fix?”

  I laughed. “The very one.”

  Ruben was overlord of the New Orleans vampires, but he also had a hand in many businesses. I didn’t even know how many, honestly, but he always had a variety of characters coming and going at his bookstore. Many of whom arrived with bodyguards and such.

  As I sipped my tea, I suddenly became way too curious about something. “Can I see something?” I asked as I pulled her phone across the table.

  “Sure.” She hopped up. “I’m going to make omelets.”

  I scrolled back to the home screen of the app. Unable to help myself, I typed in a particular name in the search box at the top. Good grief! Six hundred and thirty-seven reviews with literally thousands of comments? From women all over the damn world!

  The gushing and fawning over Devraj’s pleasurable bite spiked my adrenaline. The things these women were saying! Complete euphoria. Mind-blowing ecstasy. And—oh, come on! His mouth is now my go-to fantasy for getting off. The worst was some woman named Elmira in Italy who wrote, Ten million stars! No sex is needed with a man like Devraj. I came from his mouth on my neck and his teeth in my throat alone.

  I clicked off the phone, my heart racing. Jules was whisking her eggs furiously. And though I totally understood her angry vibes, that’s not what I was feeling. It was envy twisting my stomach into knots, not anger. These other women had experienced pleasure in the arms of Devraj. Suddenly, I had the craziest thought. Why shouldn’t I do the same?

  Now that I was completely awake and feeling overly fidgety, I needed to get out. I rinsed my teacup and headed out of the kitchen. “I’m going to the market for some fresh fruit. We’re all out.”

  “No omelet?” she called.

  “Not for me. Thanks.” I was too annoyed to eat.

  “If they have any jackfruit, get me two or three, please.”

  “Sure thing.”

  Jules was always experimenting with new recipes, and the Asian market just a few blocks from our house had the most delicious fruit, local and imported. I was a bit of a fruit addict, so I made the trip at least once a week for fresh produce.

  I pulled on a lightweight, sleeveless, chambray dress that brushed just above my knees. With small brown buttons all the way down the front, it was casual and comfortable, like all my clothes. Perfect walking dress for a lovely walking day. I pulled on my favorite gladiator sandals, grabbed my big bag, and headed downstairs and out the back door, only to stop dead in my tracks.

  There, leaning against its newly polished kickstand, was my bicycle. Not only had it been affixed with a new back tire and front tire, but it was repainted to a bright, shiny red. And there were bright new reflectors on the spokes of the new wheels. I stepped up and ran a finger along the—yep—brand new basket. Okay. Now I officially forgave him, and we were even. But I still refused to glance toward the house of Mr. Ten Million Stars as I zipped onto the sidewalk and headed for the Asian market.

  I couldn’t help but smile as I rode along. The temperature was perfect in the low seventies. People were walking their cute dogs, meeting friends for breakfast, and I was once again riding my wonderful bicycle, enjoying the breeze in my hair, which I’d left down today.

  I pulled out my folded shopping bag from inside my giant handbag and wandered the produce section. I found some choice papayas. The mangoes looked a little underripe, though, so I only picked a few for later next week. My stomach rumbled as I perused the jackfruit, of all things. They were so ugly looking, but the fruity aroma reminded me that I’d skipped breakfast.

  “If you’re looking for a ripe one, then take this one.” A large dark hand with long, well-manicured fingers reached in front of me and picked up one of the strange-looking fruit.

  My breath caught in my throat as I twisted to face Devraj. I blinked a few times, not prepared for his dazzling smile this morning. It didn’t irritate me like it usually did. Rather, I couldn’t help notice the way his lips were so
well-shaped and wondered how those lips and his canines had made a woman come without him touching any other part of her.

  “It’s lovely to see you,” he said, his voice lower, deeper than his usual light-hearted, teasing tone.

  That’s when I realized I was still staring at his mouth. And he’d noticed.

  “Oh.” I shook my head. “Jules needed me to pick up three.” I grabbed the one he held in his hand and tucked it into my shopping bag, quickly maneuvering to another topic. “Did you take care of Darren? I mean, did everything go well last night?”

  “All good. He’s under my compulsion not to reveal that we know anything about them. And he’ll be contacting me as soon as there’s a plan for their next move.”

  I nodded and picked up a jackfruit, but he stopped me with a hand, two of his fingers overlapping mine. I froze as he said, “This one is underripe. I can help you find two more good ones if you like.”

  I put that one back and pulled away. “Cool. Fine. That would be great.” I tucked my hair back behind my ear. “How do you know so much about jackfruit anyway?”

  “It’s native to India, did you know?”

  Feeling a little idiotic, I answered honestly. “No, I didn’t.” Glancing in his basket, I added, “Superfan of fruits and veggies, aren’t you?”

  “It’s kind of hard to avoid when you’re a vegetarian,” he teased with a grin. “Well, mostly.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “But you’re a vampire.”

  “So observant, Miss Savoie.” He picked up a jackfruit, looked at it, then put it back down. “You do know that vampires eat and drink human food.”

  “Of course, I do. But a vegetarian? Really?”

  “I’m Hindu, and many of us are vegetarian,” he said matter-of-factly. “Not as devout as I’d like to be, but even after three hundred years, some things never leave you.”

  Okay. Now I was completely fascinated with this man. I couldn’t help but dig deeper, having given up my fruit perusal altogether. “What do you mean?”

  He kept on the search, but his gaze skimmed to me every few seconds, leaving a trail of heat wherever it flickered. My cheeks, my mouth, my eyes, my shoulders. When I remembered the feel of his thumb brushing my mouth last night, heat filled my cheeks.

  “The way I was raised, we didn’t eat the flesh of any animal. My mother always taught me we should not take life when we can eat other things to nourish our bodies.”

  I stood there and stared at him. The way he spoke of his mother with such reverence had me speechless. But something gnawed at me. I didn’t point it out to be mean-spirited, but because I was so floored by the contradiction. “You don’t eat the flesh of animals, but you drink human blood.”

  His jaw tightened before he glanced at me, still sifting through the jackfruit. “I didn’t choose to be a vampire. So yes, I drink blood. To stay strong. To stay alive. But I do not take lives.” Then he turned to me, his amber eyes fixed heatedly on me. “Open up, Isadora.”

  I swear to you, I didn’t think he was talking about my shopping bag. Stunned for a few seconds, I blinked my surprise away and opened the bag. He set two more jackfruit inside, his gaze never leaving my face. Fixed and piercing. And now it was time for me to go.

  “Thank you.” I cleared my throat, tucking my hair behind my ear again, even though it hadn’t fallen away from the last time. “I appreciate the help.”

  I honestly needed to process what he’d just told me. My former feelings of annoyance had vanished, replaced with sympathy and admiration in the course of a short conversation over exotic fruit.

  “Well, bye then.” I awkwardly waved then beelined for the checkout register. Shaking my head, I reminded myself this was the same guy who bought million-dollar cars and hung out with movie stars. Because he was one.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked from right behind me as I checked out.

  I shook my head. My traitorous stomach took that moment to let out a ridiculously loud rumble.

  “Your stomach says otherwise. How about I take you and your stomach out for brunch?”

  “Um…” I was trying to find a good excuse to say no, but I was seriously struggling for so many reasons.

  Namely his ten-million-star review by Elmira, the reverent mention of his mother, and the sadness in his eyes when I practically accused him of being a hypocrite for drinking blood while trying to maintain the faith his mother had taught him.

  “Just brunch, Isadora,” he urged as I swiped my credit card. “Then I’ll have sufficiently apologized, and I’ll stop bothering you.”

  I glanced over my shoulder where he was standing far too close, his body heat rippling off him in waves. I lifted my bag and moved out of the way while the cashier started ringing up his produce.

  “Seriously. You don’t owe me a thing. We’re way past that.” His face fell with disappointment because I’m sure it sounded like I was going to rebuff him again. I shocked even myself when I said, “But brunch sounds good. I could eat.”

  His dazzling smile reappeared with gusto, and I couldn’t pretend it didn’t make my pulse quicken. Hell, after falling asleep thinking only of him, I couldn’t deny my attraction to him. One meal couldn’t hurt, right?

  “Wonderful. There’s a place not far from here that I bet you’ll love.” He swiped his credit card. “Have you ever been to Gris Gris?”

  “No. Afraid not.”

  He ushered me toward the door, a light hand brushing my back. I pretended it had no effect on me, but even lying to myself was starting to get seriously difficult.

  “I think you’ll love it.”

  And that’s how I ended up finally capitulating to sharing a meal and my entire Saturday morning with Devraj Kumar.

  Chapter 13

  ~DEVRAJ~

  * * *

  Rather than take my car since Isadora gave me the stink-eye when I offered her a ride, I joined her while she walked her bike the two short blocks to Gris Gris. We settled into a table on the upper balcony overlooking Magazine Street since it was such a beautiful day. The umbrella-style awning over the table blocked out the heat of the sun, and the breeze coming off the Mississippi River in the near distance made this the perfect spot for my first date with Isadora Savoie.

  Make no mistake. Whether she knew it or not, this was a date.

  Our waiter brought us two waters and took our drink order while we looked over the menu. Isadora stared at the brunch specials while I pretended to do the same but soaked in her lovely face across the table instead.

  “So, how does a vegetarian eat from a menu like this?”

  Setting the menu aside since I already knew what I wanted, I told her, “I said mostly vegetarian. I allow myself shellfish on occasion.”

  Her lips quirked as she glanced up over the menu. “Well, that’s a relief. I was feeling really sorry for you. I’m not a huge meat-eater, but I love seafood.”

  The waiter returned with two Bloody Marys. “Here you are. Are you ready to order?”

  I gestured toward Isadora to go first. She blinked rapidly in that shy way she had, returning her eyes to the menu.

  “Can I get the Gris Gris Shrimp and Grits? And also a house salad with extra arugula?”

  “Great choice, ma’am.”

  “There’s no iceberg in the salad, is there?”

  “No, ma’am. None at all. And for you, sir?”

  “I’ll have the Blueberry Bourbon Pain Perdu. And can you bring us the Oyster BLT, hold the bacon on half of the order.” I gazed over at her. “I thought we could share an appetizer.”

  “Oh, you can hold the bacon on all of it,” she added.

  “You don’t eat bacon?” I asked.

  She shrugged a slender shoulder, the sun kissing her tan skin not covered by the awning. “If we’re sharing, I can do without since you don’t. I might not like it, and then it would go to waste.”

  So considerate. It was a small kindness, but it only added to the thoughtfulness of the woman sitting across from
me.

  The waiter nodded. “An Oyster BLT, hold the B. Got it.”

  I leaned back in my chair, napkin in my lap, hands clasped on the table, unable to not smile in her presence. “Extra arugula, huh? And what is it you have against iceberg lettuce?”

  She sneered, looking absolutely disgusted. “Iceberg lettuce has zero nutritional value. Did you know that?”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Iceberg only has forty IUs of Vitamin A.” She rattled off the data she kept in that lovely head of hers. “Compare that to romaine lettuce which has six hundred and eighty, and it’s a no-brainer.”

  “What’s an IU?” I asked, amused.

  “International units. Besides, it tastes like nothing. You might as well eat a piece of paper.”

  “I see. And how does romaine stack up to arugula in the IU category?”

  She leaned forward and took a sip of her Bloody Mary. “Better in the vitamin category actually, but arugula tastes the best.”

  “Really?”

  “You don’t think so?”

  She seemed perplexed by my lack of lettuce knowledge.

  “I’m not that particular, though I’m not a fan of iceberg either. We have that in common.”

  I couldn’t help but bask in the flush of pink that filled her cheeks. Why that statement would cause her to blush, I have no idea. But she blushed over the smallest of things, I’d noticed. Still, she was talking much easier than usual, so I tried to keep that going. I wanted her to feel more at ease with me. For some reason, she seemed so today.

  “And you’re happy to have your bicycle back? It rides okay?”

  Her green eyes brightened. “Like nothing had happened to it at all.” She smiled so wide my heart skipped a beat. “Thank you,” she added timidly. “Especially for the wheel reflectors.”

  “Safety first,” I said with a wink and sipped my Bloody Mary.

  She had no idea but I’d ordered the biggest, brightest, safest reflectors possible to go on her bike. In addition, I’d made sure to replace her tires with wide-rimmed ones for easier balance and durability. The thought of something happening to Isadora, of her getting hurt again, had my protective instincts on high alert. It was in that moment at the bike shop where I’d interrogated the guy behind the counter over every detail of the new safety features that I realized I’d never been this insanely protective over a woman before. Without any attempt on her part, I was completely entranced.