wanting him inside her. “Yes,” she hissed under her breath. She couldn’t wait for him to claim her, to feel the heat of his cock pulsing against the walls of her vagina.
She tilted her hips toward him but he seemed to be getting farther away, not closer. “No,” she cried. Sabrina reached for him, but he slid through her fingers like a ghost, an insubstantial apparition. “No,” she cried again when her hands clutched nothing but air.
She was alone.
She bit back a sob, feeling totally bereft. Pulling her knees up to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them and held on tight. The cool air encircled her, making her shiver.
No, it was more than the night air. Something else was here with her.
Laughter filled the room, male and mocking and…evil. That was the word she was searching for. Something about the voice made her gut clench and her heart race. She grabbed the cotton sheet and pulled it around her, needing even its meager protection.
“No need to hide your body. I’m not interested in that.”
“What do you want?” she demanded. She needed a weapon but didn’t own a gun. She had a chef’s knife in the kitchen but instinctively knew she wouldn’t make it to the bedroom door before he stopped her.
The slight scuff of footsteps off to her left made her jolt. Whoever he was, he was between her and the door. The window was her only option for escape.
She started to slide out of bed and was horrified to discover she couldn’t move. Completely panicked, she began to fight whatever invisible bonds were holding her. She could feel nothing, but she couldn’t budge an inch no matter how hard she tried.
Several beads of sweat rolled down her forehead and into her eyes, making them sting. “Who are you?” Her heart was galloping as though she’d run for two miles straight. It hurt so badly she wondered if she weren’t having a heart attack even though she was a healthy twenty-eight-year-old woman.
“What do I want?” The voice was cultured and smooth, but Sabrina much preferred the rough voice of her lover. And what had happened to him? Had this man done something to him?
The stranger continued in his even tone. “I want many things, my dear. But from you, I want only one thing.” The room seethed with an evil that was alive, a creature all its own. “I want your immortal soul.”
Something touched her leg and she shrieked.
“Who am I?” He laughed. “Are you sure you want to know the answer to that?”
Concentrating all her strength on moving, she was shocked when she managed to roll. She flung herself to the left, rolled out of bed and hit the floor with a heavy thud.
Heart pounding, she flung herself toward the window, sobbing and gasping for breath as she crawled the final distance. The fire escape was her only hope.
When she reached the open window she froze. The sun was peeking over the horizon and the early dawn light began to fill her room. It wasn’t the middle of the night. It was morning.
She looked down to find her nightgown plastered to her skin. She wasn’t wrapped up in a sheet at all.
Sabrina’s gaze tracked around the room. Nothing had changed since last night. Her bright-blue chest of drawers still sat against one wall, her bookshelf with all her books, candles and mementoes was against another. No one was in the room with her. She was alone.
She dragged herself to her feet, stumbled to the bed and sat on the edge. “A dream. It was nothing but a dream.” She covered her face with her hands and choked back a sob. She’d been having a lot of dreams ever since she returned from her trip to North Dakota. The past two weeks, the dreams had alternated between the pleasures of erotic fantasies to frightening nightmares of unseen horrors.
Sabrina scrubbed her hands over her face, drying both sweat and tears. The cheerful yellow walls and green curtains did little to lift her mood. The colorful artwork on the walls didn’t bring a smile to her face as it usually did. Not even the soothing scent of the lavender plants outside her window could calm her.
She had to do something about the dreams. This couldn’t go on any longer. She wasn’t sleeping well and it was beginning to affect her ability to read the tarot cards. And her talent of reading the cards was an integral part of her, not to mention a portion of her livelihood. As for her painting…well, the images she was painting lately bordered on disturbing, not her usual upbeat colorful city scenes that the tourists liked to purchase.
She pushed off the bed, making certain her shaky legs could hold her before she staggered out of the room and across the hall to the tiny bathroom. She’d shower, dress and go to Cafe Ledet for some nice hot coffee and a beignet or two. Luckily, it was just around the corner from the tiny apartment she rented. She needed help and she knew just the women to talk to.
Chapter One
Cafe Ledet was located in a hole in the wall on Chartres Street within easy walking distance of Jackson Square, and was owned by Mathilda Ledet. Sabrina and Tilly had been friends since they were children and their bond had only grown stronger over the years. Even at this early hour of the morning, business was brisk as people on their way to work stopped for their early shot of java and one of the delectable pastries and treats the cafe offered for sale.
Local artwork, some of it Sabrina’s, covered the colorful walls. The floor was filled with round tables and chairs painted every color of the rainbow, while jazzy music flowed from the sound system filling the air around her.
The patter of voices, the musical combination of English and French—a reminder of the city’s heritage—was a normal part of her day. She loved it here, loved to watch the sheer variety of people who came and went, sometimes using them as inspiration for her painting. She also did tarot card readings here two evenings a week and worked behind the counter another two, all to help supplement her earnings from her art.
Tilly was behind the counter chatting with a customer, her head slightly tilted to one side so her long black hair flowed over one shoulder. Her lips were parted on a smile, exposing straight white teeth. Her skin was smooth and the color of light toffee, a gift from her mixed heritage. Her laughter rang out across the room, making Sabrina smile. Tilly could charm the clouds from the sky and was a big reason for her coffee shop’s success. People came for the extraordinary baked goods and superior coffee but returned because Tilly made them feel so welcome.
Sabrina sat at a small corner table with her hands wrapped around a cup of extra-dark roast coffee. Usually she drank herbal tea, but this morning she needed the caffeine kick if she was going to make it through the day.
Her gaze went to the large picture window and the street beyond. She loved this city. It was colorful in every way possible, filled with life and sound and beauty. Sure it had a dark side—every large city did—but none of the rest of them were New Orleans. New Orleans had a beauty and dignity all her own.
“Another bad night?”
She glanced at the chair across from her as a woman plopped onto it, letting her oversized purse hit the table with a heavy thunk. Sabrina barely had time to grab her coffee to keep it from toppling. Jessica Miller was as different from Tilly as night and day, but they were both her best friends.
Jessica was tiny, her skin as pale as snow, her hair so light it was almost white in color. With her short stature and petite build, she looked like a magical sprite out of some child’s book of fairytales. Originally from Kansas, the solitary witch had transplanted herself to New Orleans three years ago. They’d met in Jackson Square when Jessica had set up her table, selling the amazing jewelry she made, and the two of them had quickly become friends.
Sabrina rubbed her forehead and took a sip of her coffee before carefully setting the cup back on the table. “You could say that.”
Jessica frowned. “You’ve been having a lot of bad dreams lately.” She reached across the table, giving Sabrina’s arm a brief comforting rub.
“Ever since I got back from that gig up in North Dakota.”
“Move your purse, Jess.” The deep, throaty voice was the kind that could have made a small fortune selling phone sex. Jessica dropped her purse onto the floor, making room for Tilly to set a large cafe mocha in front of
