“Somewhere private.”
Those big brown eyes narrow on me now. “I was just headed home. You can join me, if you like.”
I nod, surprised by the invitation. Millie’s never invited me into her home, but there’s never been an occasion where I asked to speak to her privately, either.
“I’ll meet you there,” she says. “I just have to check in on Esme and grab my bag.”
“Thanks. I mean it.”
She nods, and I leave, headed for my car. The drive to Millie’s house isn’t a long one, and I park at the curb to wait for her to join me.
She was right. She isn’t far behind me. Once she’s parked in the driveway, I join her on the porch and watch as she eyes my blood mark from earlier.
She doesn’t say anything, just unlocks the door with a flick of her wrist and gestures for me to follow her inside.
Sanguine comes running to greet her human, rubbing up against Millie’s legs as she offers a big meow.
“Hi, darlin’,” Millie says and rubs the cat’s ears. Her fingers are long and strong, and I’d love to feel them on my skin.
But that’s for another time.
“Whew, what a day,” she chimes in before I can say anything. She leads me to her small kitchen, which has herbs hung for drying, and countertops full of pots and jars with special ingredients for her potions. “I’m having wine. Do you want some?”
I glance at the time. “It’s a little early in the day for me.”
“I’ve been awake since three,” she says with a shrug as she pours half a glass of red and eyes me over the rim as she takes a sip. “Two visits in two days.”
“I figured you’d be missing me by now.”
I shove my hands into my pockets so I don’t pull her against me and kiss the sass right out of her.
Not that I could, but I’d enjoy trying.
“Yeah, I’ve been heartsick all day.” She takes one more sip and sets her glass aside. “Should we sit for this conversation?”
“I want to know about the body you found last night.”
And just like that, all humor leaves her gorgeous face.
“How did you find out about that?”
“Cash brought me in on the investigation.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “Why would he need help from a blood expert?”
“Because there’s a mystery surrounding the blood,” I reply. “I told you to call me if anything happened.”
“Lucien,”—my heart stills at the sound of my name on her lips—“I saw a dumped body. That’s it.”
“And you don’t think that warrants some thought? Millie, Horace—”
“Is dead!” she yells and turns to me with angry brown eyes. “He died. We defeated him. You were there. Just because he collected blood from his victims for me doesn’t mean that he’s back and killing more people.”
“What did you just say?”
She swears under her breath and paces around the kitchen. She’s magnificent with her long, blond hair and fair skin. She’s tall, almost as tall as my six feet, with a willowy body that’s tempted me for as long as I can remember. And right now, I want to take her over my knee and spank her. “I didn’t mean to tell you that.”
“Tell me what?”
“Horace took trophies,” she says and rubs her head in agitation, as if thinking about all of this is giving her a headache. I reach over and run my thumb over the center of her forehead, taking the pain as my own. I don’t even blink as an ache settles behind my eyes.
“Thanks. Anyway, he was big into trophies, the sick piece of shit. For Brielle, it was her long, dark hair. He had dozens of braids. For Daphne, it was eyes. Because she has the sight, as he put it.”
“And for you?” I ask, but I already know. I’ve always known.
“Blood.” She swallows hard. “He’d saved enough blood to fill the bayou.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
She rounds on me, and if I were a weaker man, I’d be damn scared. “Why would I tell you, Lucien? It wasn’t a detail that was released to the public, and it’s not like you and I are besties. What do you expect me to do, just call you up and be like, ‘Oh, hey, I know we don’t speak much, but get a load of this?’”
“Okay, fair point. So, tell me now.”
She sighs. “That’s really all I know. He left journals going back to when he was a teenager and first started to kill. We know he was fixated on us, and that he is most likely a psychopath.”
“And he’s very well-versed in dark magic,” I remind her.
“Was. He was. Lucien, he’s dead.”
“You and I both know that the physical body means nothing when a being possesses powers as strong as his,” I say, feeling the frustration building inside of me. “And if you think he’s finished, you’re wrong. Even Miss Sophia warned you that what we accomplished last year wasn’t permanent.”
Her lip trembles, and I feel it in my very soul. So, I reach out to her and take her hand, trying to ignore the flash of heat, the spark that ignites at the touch. “Let me help, darlin’.”
“To what end?” she whispers. “You want to talk about the dreams? Fine. In every single one, no matter what time period we’re in, we fail. I don’t know if they’re memories or a flash of what could be in the future. But every single time, it comes down to you and me, and we fucking fail, Lucien.”
“Because we have in the past.” She stiffens and tries to pull away, but I hold on tight. “You weren’t ready to accept what you saw in those dreams, Mill. I hate that you were afraid and that you didn’t have anyone to help you. To explain it to you.”
“We’ve done this before,” she whispers.
“Dozens of times,” I confirm. “And he defeats us every time. But not now.”
“Why is this different?”
“We’re stronger. We have additional knowledge on our side. And I’m damn pissed, Millicent.”
“But we don’t know that this is him. First of all, Horace kills women who look like us—like me, Daphne, and Brielle. Not men. It’s us sisters that he’s fixated on.”
“That’s true,” I concede. “This could have just been a sick asshole who tortured and killed that man. That case might be completely random. People are murdered in the Quarter every day.”
“Exactly.” She nods.
“But either way, we need to get ready. Because he won’t stay dormant forever. And whether it’s tonight or a year from now, we need to be prepared to deal with him again.”
“I’ve so enjoyed the quiet this past year,” she says and then turns sad eyes up to me. “What did we ever do to set all of this in motion? If it’s hundreds of year’s worth of a grudge, where does it come from?”
“That’s one thing I don’t know,” I admit. “But Miss Sophia might. Or she’ll know where we could look. I know you don’t like me much, but we’re going to be spending a bit of time together.”
She scowls. “I don’t dislike you.”