Overview: Lifelong best friends and eclectic clairvoyant witches, Willa Deberry and Trace Davies, have been welcomed into the psychic vampire community. But their already fantastical lives suddenly become even more exhilarating when they discover they are the fated mates of true vampire brothers belonging to the most powerful clutch in the world.
Destiny and danger collide when an adversary from the past threatens the future for Alder and Harris Hunt, in this modern New Orleans tale.
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| Falling for Fangs by Ginger Lee Book |
Falling for Fangs by Ginger Lee Book Read Online Chapter One
WILLA
Meeting Alder Hunt that night didn’t come as a surprise to me. Dreaming about future events was something I had become used to. I knew I would meet him at the Endless Night Vampire Ball, and I knew we were destined to become one.
I mean, I know I’m a psychic, but maybe I am a witch. That’s what my best friend Trace says. She casually calls herself a witch because she reads tarot with an accuracy that’s downright scary at times. I guess you could call us eclectic witches. The peculiarities that used to frighten us as teenagers have made us a decent living so far. Living in New Orleans doesn’t hurt either. It’s the perfect place for two fantastical females. Trace does her work online while I have the parlor of our garden district home set up like a circus sideshow, complete with midnight blue walls and vintage magician posters of Carter the Great and Thurston. My beautiful crystal ball sits in the middle of a small table. It’s all about the ambiance when a patron enters to have their future told. We have lived in and ran our businesses from here since Trace’s grandmother, we called her Mimi, passed away, leaving her the house. We practically lived there growing up and Mimi seemed like she understood we were both a bit different than other children. I never met my father, and my mother was never home long enough for me to ask about him. Mimi was already raising Trace after her parents were killed before our kindergarten year in a tragedy we were never allowed to mention. The house I lived in was small and two streets behind Mimi’s. I would go home long enough to launder clothes then I was back with my best friend. Mimi’s neighbor, Cassandra Monroe, kept an eye on us too. She knew my mother and she also knew I was basically on my own. I was a well-behaved kid who probably helped keep Trace out of trouble, to tell the truth. Mimi loved us both as if we were her own daughters and we became inseparable.
My real magic happens when I’m asleep. The dreams are vivid and so detailed. I wake up often and write them down in a notebook beside my bed. I jot down descriptions such as clothing, hairstyle, and any distinguishing characteristics. This way I know what dream goes with which person when they walk through the door for a glimpse into their future, because I rarely get a name in my dream. Trace gets her information in real time, which I envy. I never get a good night’s sleep, so I nap often.
Okay, okay. Back to the good part. The mysterious true vampire Alder Hunt. Sometimes I slip and call him Mr. Hunt because he is really old, but his physical form is stuck at forty. He is perfect in my eyes. A terrifically tall frame, thick dark hair, a beautiful body that never requires a day of working out, and his handsome face. Swoon. Alder’s milk chocolate brown eyes that rest below inquisitive arched eyebrows drew me in like a magnet with the very first encounter. He holds a particular light in his eyes as do the other vampires I have seen.
My dream held true even down to the gorgeous black lace gown I wore. I made sure my neck and shoulders were bare. Vampires do have weaknesses. The Endless Night Vampire Ball is a yearly masquerade event for real vampires, which are not undead, immortal humans. Real vampires, or reals as Trace and I call them, are living people who need the energy of others to feel complete, known in the community as psychic feeding or psi-vamp. Some dabble in deep feeding or blood-letting rituals, but that does not serve as their only sustenance. Others are hybrids and like to partake in both. A large group lives here in New Orleans while another is in Buffalo, New York. Still, others are scattered around the globe.
Alder, however, is a true vampire from old London. All I really know about him is that he and his brother Harris fled to the states after the Highgate situation at the London cemetery in the 70s. All the humans here know who Alder and Harris Hunt are. Most are enthralled by the two and have welcomed them into the community. In all honesty, they are probably afraid not to. The brothers frequent city fundraisers, the local speakeasies and vampire bars, and are content sipping drinks in the darkest corner. Women and men wish to be with them intimately, but no one is aware of who the secretive brothers choose as partners. Rumors swirled that Alder and Harris were also tantric and that would be the ultimate experience for real vampires.
Trace and I have also been welcomed into the community because the psi-vamps swear we give off an otherworldly energy. We just have to limit the amount we gift them. It leaves us drained after but makes for quite interesting and enjoyable weekends.
Alder Hunt had never paid me much attention before the masquerade. I would watch him glide through a room, oozing sex appeal and authority, as he and Harris eventually settled into the shadows. His eyes always held mine for a few moments and an unexplained jolt made my heart skip a beat every time.
When I woke from the dream about Alder, my skin burned and my soul felt a need I couldn’t describe. An excitement coursed through my being, but the dream left me without knowing Alder’s response. What made it more intense was the fact that the ball started in less than two hours. Usually, I have more time to process the dreams about my own life and can ground myself in advance. Trace sat on my bed listening to me try to explain as I dressed and tied my long dark blonde hair in a low, loose ponytail. She had no desire to go to the masquerade as she had a lengthy list of clients lined up for the evening.
“Come with me,” Trace said as she grabbed my hand. She took me to my fortune telling table where a yellow candle burned. We sat across from each other, and she lifted a small blue glass bottle and shook it.
“I’ve been dabbling,” she whispered with a smile.
“I see that. What is it?”
“Good luck oil.”
Trace turned up my wrists and placed a few drops on my pulse points.
“The winds of change you feel tonight,
The waters are calm and the sky is bright,
Luck be yours, come into you,
Your desires are true, so mote it be.”
A safe spirit blanketed me. “Thank you. This really comes natural to you.”
Trace squeezed my hands. “It feels right. I didn’t use the oil on your neck, because, well…Alder Hunt might not be fond of the smell.”
We both laughed and my cheeks heated thinking about Alder actually existing in my orbit.
I paused at the door of our house before following my destiny and Trace hugged me tight. She pulled back, feeling the vibrations coming from my core. She smiled, knowing me all too well.
“You look amazing. The reals will be all about you tonight. Keep your cool whatever Alder says. Oh, and have fun,” she said with a wink.
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