Witches Get Stitches by Juliette Cross

Chapter 12

~NICO~

This night needed to end.Soon. I needed to get out of here and get out of town, let my beast take over and hunt for blood.

After three hours of watching Violet, her sisters, cousins, and Travis drink and dance in this crazy-ass place, my patience was teetering on the edge.

I’d lied to Violet when I told her I was perfectly fine going out so close to the full moon. I wasn’t fine. I was being clawed and maimed from the inside out.

Every time a man looked at Violet or touched her or tried to dance with her, my claws would slice out, and I’d have to close my eyes and do a zen-like countdown to slide them back into my skin.

Devraj had encouraged me to try yoga to try to reel in my impulsive anger, but that wasn’t for me. Still, I’d tried the breathing technique along with blocking out whatever was triggering the rage. So far tonight, I’d counted to twenty multiple times.

The club was showered in bright colors, neon lights, and eclectic memorabilia from the eighties on the walls. For example, in a place of honor, in glass cases against the back wall of one bar, in between rows of expensive liquor, was Duckie’s shoes in a blue-lit shadowbox and Andie’s prom dress from Pretty in Pink.

Scattered around the floor-to-second story ceiling were popular quotes from films. They were scrawled on large art boards in different handwritings to match the character they came from. One from 16 Candles read, CanIborrowyourunderpantsfor ten minutes? Another was from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off: Lifemovesprettyfast. Ifyoudon’tstopandlookaroundsometimes,you’llmissit. But the one that made me laugh the most was from The Breakfast Club: Ifyoumesswiththebull,youngman.Yougetthehorns.

This was a place for a specific audience. But eighties retro was in, so whoever came up with the branding and marketing was clever.

When Violet headed toward me where I stood next to the bar, watching their jackets—basically, I was the coat-check guy for the night as well as chauffeur—the knotted tension in the center of my chest eased.

Reaching for her jacket, she grabbed hold of my shirt, clenching her fingers into the fabric when she stumbled a little. She was a bit drunk.

“We’re leaving?”

Please, heaven above, let us be leaving.

“Yep.” She emphasized the p, grinning up at me. The knot loosened further when she looked at me like that. “Headed to the Cat’s Meow next.”

“You’re kidding.”

The Cat’s Meow was on Bourbon Street and would be packed as fuck with rowdy tourists. Now I was more than glad I’d suffered through the night so far.

No way could I let her enter that cesspool without being there to protect her, especially after she’d been imbibing all night and Shane and the Blood Moon pack were somewhere in this city. Unless they’d already left for the full moon. All werewolves sought out remote, rural areas for the monthly shift.

Laughing, Violet shook her head, glassy gaze roving over my face. She lifted a hand and pressed a finger into the divot at the center of my chin. “I like this dimple thing.”

“How much have you had to drink?”

“I only had four Molly Ringwalds. No, five.”

I’d watched them make every one of her drinks, making damn sure nothing got dropped in it before it found its way into her hands. So I knew what she’d had already. I was just trying to emphasize to her that she’d probably had enough.

“It was five,” I confirmed.

The others crowded over, snatching up their jackets.

“Oh, no! I love this song!” screamed Livvy, drunker than I’d ever seen her, as “Fire Woman” by the Cult started pounding through the place.

Her level of inebriation didn’t surprise me. Probably because the bartenders didn’t skimp here. They used quality liquor, too.

“Come on, Livvy,” crooned Travis, pulling her close. “Time to sing me a lullaby.”

Cat’s Meow also happened to be a karaoke bar. Great. Couldn’t wait.

“Dammit,” Livvy grumbled, watching some guy approach our group. “Not him.”

Before he’d even gotten within fifteen yards, my senses pegged him as a grim. Dressed professionally in black pants and a white button-down with a jacket, he marched right up to Livvy, ignoring the not-so-welcoming looks of the men around her. He had dark hair and eyes, pale skin. It was a gut instinct to want to protect her since it was obvious the hellfire coming out of her eyes meant she didn’t like this guy.

“Livvy,” he said softly, still ignoring the fact that she was surrounded by three big warlocks, two witches, and a grumpy werewolf. “I didn’t know you came to this club.”

“Why would you? It’s not your place to know my comings and goings.” She fought to sound haughty and condescending, but her slight sway and slur from the drinks took off that edge.

“Just thought you might’ve mentioned it.” His mouth lifted into a crooked smile. “This club has some high-end marketing. Would’ve been something to add to the PR group.”

“I’ll add what I think is relevant to our group discussion,” she snapped back.

What the hell were they talking about?

“Excuse me,” said Violet. When she went to lean forward, I gripped her hip to keep her close to me. “Who are you?”

When he turned to introduce himself, Livvy planted a hand on his chest and pushed off him toward the door. “No one. Let’s go!”

“Fine by me,” said Travis, trailing after her, the rest of us following.

Grims were an odd bunch. I was even more convinced of the fact when I glanced back at him to see him chuckling to himself rather than simmering with anger at her insult.

Once outside, we made a quick decision to taxi our way into the Quarter rather than drive. We hailed a minivan cab and crammed inside. The parking was hell down there, especially at this time of night. Much easier to get a cab in then make our way back here later.

He dropped us on the edge of Jackson Square along Decatur Street. From there, we meandered down Chartres to intersect with Bourbon.

The drunk party-goers were out in droves, flooding in and out of bars. I didn’t know what Violet thought when I grabbed her waist and pulled her close after a hulking guy stumbled out of a pub and nearly rammed into her. I didn’t let go afterwards, and I didn’t care if she thought I was being too handsy. The only way to keep from losing my temper and slicing people with my claws was if I kept her close to me. Where she was safe.

As the cousins and Travis took the lead, pushing through the crowd and parting it like the Red Sea, I stayed in the rear with the ladies.

Yes, New Orleans was a fun party town. But when you mix shitloads of alcohol and thousands of people in a matchbox of space, it’s always a cocktail for violence. I just wanted to be sure I’d be ahead of it and keep all of them safe if it came to that.

A prickling of my senses made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end as we made our way to the entrance of the Cat’s Meow. I surveyed the crowd meandering down Bourbon but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Still, my wolf senses were on high alert.

“Come on!” Violet grabbed my hand and yanked me toward the entrance.

“How’d we get in that fast?”

Violet snorted. “We have two powerful Influencers working their magic.”

Sure enough, Cole and Livvy were dazzling a waitress who not only squeezed us in ahead of a few others but found us a nice table dead center of the karaoke stage. I’d complain about that being cheating if I wasn’t so glad to get inside. The sooner we got in, the sooner we could leave. Or so I hoped.

As we found our seats, Clara was already listing songs she wanted Drew to go up and sing with her.

The MC on the stage thanked the burly guy closing out a country song. “Let’s give him a hand! Never heard a Garth Brooks impersonator quite like that.”

The crowd laughed, so he must’ve been pretty bad. The burly guy stumbled back up the steps and took another bow to rowdy laughter.

“Next up, we’ve got a nineties fave. Please welcome Rosy and her sister Talullah singing ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC!”

Cheers erupted as the curvy women did their thing. They seemed to have practiced a few dance moves for this one, even as they half-laughed, half-sang into the mics.

“Hurry and pick your songs so we can get on the list fast!” yelled Clara over the noise.

Violet grabbed my forearm and shook it. “What are you singing?” she asked excitedly.

Shaking my head, I nodded toward the rest of them. “You guys enjoy this. I’m not getting up there.”

I wasn’t afraid of the stage, obviously, but I didn’t like crowds like this. I preferred laid back and mellow. That was the reason I’d decided not to pursue a life in the limelight when I had the chance. Well, one of them anyway.

“Booo! Party pooper,” Violet teased.

Travis was on her other side and started rattling off some songs that he wanted her to do.

“No, not that one,” she complained.

“Oh, come on,” he begged. “I want to hear you sing that again like you did at our party in Lafayette.”

“Why?”

“Because it was fucking hot!”

She laughed and shook her head at him. “Fine, fine, whatever.”

Now that was interesting. They’d had a karaoke contest at the Cauldron not that long ago, but Violet didn’t participate.

Leaning to my left, I asked Livvy, “Can Violet sing?”

She blew out an exasperated breath. “Can she sing? Just you fucking wait, werewolf.” She grinned lasciviously.

The night rolled on. Clara and Drew sang a horrific rendition of Rihanna and Eminem’s “Love the Way You Lie.” There was heckling and laughter from the audience when neither of them could hit the right key to save their lives. And still, they were brimming with laughter the whole time.

Livvy managed to belt out a very decent version of “When Doves Cry” by Prince. She had the deeper register for it. Then there was a highly entertaining performance by Cole, Drew, and Travis to the Beastie Boys “Fight For Your Right to Party,” which practically set the place on fire.

When it was finally Violet’s turn, that twisted knot returned ten-fold. Not sure if it was because I was feeling anxiety about her performing in front of a wild, drunk-as-fuck audience like this or that she was on display and I just didn’t want her to be.

She smiled and waved to the whooping cat calls that greeted her when the MC called her up. She was perfectly at ease.

She wasn’t dressed up like the others, wearing her usual faded jeans and a long-sleeved lavender top. But the woman was fucking gorgeous regardless. The lights highlighted her creamy complexion, her vibrant eyes, and soft, wavy hair. When she took the mic off the stand and turned her back to us, displaying her perfect, heart-shaped ass, the crowd erupted some more.

“And here we go,” howled the MC. “Violet Savoie to perform Beyonce’s adaptation of ‘Fever.’ Take it away, Miss Savoie!”

The song began with nothing but that simple guitar strumming with snapping fingers. Violet snapped to the beat, bending one knee to the tempo. She began singing the lyrics all husky and slow, keeping her back to the audience.

My heart climbed into my throat and lodged there, threatening to choke me. My entire body went rigid and tight with arousal.

She turned her head, her hair covering half of her face as she sang about kisses and arms around her and a fever through the night. To say the audience, especially the male half, was engaged would be an understatement.

“Yeah, baby!” howled Travis, but it didn’t pull my gaze away for one fucking millisecond.

I was riveted. Frozen. Utterly entranced as she swaggered across that stage in denim, singing like a goddess, her voice filtering into the air, all sex and smoke.

For a while, her gaze roved the crowd, landing on no one, till she found me. Then that tilted smile and raspy voice poured out the rest of those taunting lyrics directly at me. Her free hand slid up her body along her hip, waist, and to the side of her breast before coasting back down.

I thought I was going to have to pour a bucket of ice water on every man in this fucking place or force myself out of my seat so I could beat the shit out of all of them for cat-calling and ogling her.

But I wasn’t going anywhere. I couldn’t move, just sat there dumbfounded, soaking in every word, every flicker of those blue eyes, every sensuous movement of her lips, and trying hard not to swallow my own tongue.

Her voice resonated on some primal plane of mine. Man and beast in the very heart of me cried out to hold the siren on that stage, to clutch her tight and never let her go.

By the time she sang the repetitive chorus at the end, I agreed wholeheartedly. What a lovely way to burn. I’d light the match myself and ignite myself on fire if it meant I could finally have her.

I was glad that Mateo and none of the vampires were with us because they’d have detected my heartrate tripping at alarming speeds. Not that Mateo didn’t already know how I felt about Violet, but I was trying to keep my obsession under wraps as best I could. I hoped we’d stay at least a half hour because I’d need that much time to get my dick under control.

The place erupted in roars of applause. I joined them, watching her take a demure bow and rushing off the stage, laughing with that wild, throaty sound I’d come to love so much as she returned to the table.

She avoided my gaze until right before she sat down. What she saw there, I have no idea. I’d done my best to keep it neutral, but there was no way I was pretending that seeing her sing that song hadn’t decimated me.

She might as well have taken a knife and cut a heart-shaped hole in my chest to remove the organ that already belonged to her.

She high-fived everyone at our table before she rounded back to her seat next to me. When she plunked down, I grabbed the back of her chair and hauled her against my side. Leaning into her ear, I whispered low, “That was…fucking amazing.”

That was me. The wordsmith. Poet. Spouting lame words for what I’d just witnessed.

Blushing, she smiled at me, but said nothing.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” I tugged a lock of her hair. “How come you never told me you could sing?”

She sipped her beer that had been delivered while she was on stage. “You never asked.”

Chuckling, I added, “But Violet. You can really sing. I mean, you could have a career in it if you wanted.” I had no idea she had an affinity for music like me. Perhaps that’s why she always watched me when I was on stage and seemed to listen intently.

“Thank you.” She seemed to think for a minute while I stared at her in wonder. “I really do love music, and I like singing, but it isn’t what I want to do with my life.”

I nodded, understanding what she meant. While I enjoyed singing, making some extra money with gigs, it was actually the song-writing I loved far more. What called to my soul, compelling me to pour myself into words?

After that, Clara and Travis did another number, but our group was winding down. Much to my complete satisfaction.

I’d withdrawn from conversation, content to keep my arm across the back of Violet’s chair and rewind her performance over and over in my head.

What a song for her to sing. That’s exactly what she was. A fever in my blood, wrapping me in heated need. I wondered how much longer I could keep this pretense, how much longer I could resist taking her in my arms and showing her what it truly meant to burn.

“Let’s go, y’all!” called Livvy, half-stumbling to her feet.

Cole helped her, looping her arm through his. We all ambled through the crowd toward the door.

It was nearing two a.m. I was going to be exhausted tomorrow, but it would be a short drive out to the cabin. Then I’d sleep all day anyway and run the woods all night as I typically did at the full moon.

When we stepped outside, gathering at the corner of Bourbon next to the Cat’s Meow, that same prickly sensation assaulted my senses.

Snapping my head to the right, I saw him. Shane. Two blocks down, leaning against the corner of a bar. He held my gaze for three heartbeats, smiled, walked toward us. Four other werewolves appeared, flanking him in vee formation, weaving through the drunk crowd who were oblivious to the predators stalking around them.

“That motherfucker.”

“What?” asked Violet at my side then followed my gaze. “Oh, shit.”

“What’s going on?” Drew growled at my side, sounding more like a werewolf than a warlock.

“Those assholes.” I turned to Violet. “Stay here.”

She opened her mouth to protest but I’d already stepped off the curb toward Shane. When he saw me coming and the warlocks right behind me, Shane smiled then ducked down a side street. The other werewolves followed him at a quick clip.

By the time I’d pushed through the crowd and followed them, they were halfway down the darkened street, barely populated like Bourbon Street. Shane glanced over his shoulder, laughing. I took off, sprinting toward him like mad. Travis, Cole, and Drew weren’t far behind me.

Though witches and warlocks didn’t have the super-speed that werewolves and vampires did, these guys were in good enough shape to remain only a few yards behind.

The street that bisected the one up ahead showed cars and people crisscrossing. Must be Royal Street, a busier thoroughfare than this side street.

When I came out at the end, chest heaving, I looked both ways, then caught sight of Shane and the others climbing into a big, black SUV at the curb at the corner. Sprinting through the crowd, I dodged a couple, almost knocking them over.

“Hey!” shouted the guy, but I kept going.

The SUV sped away from the curb right as I reached them. When I stopped running, the SUV suddenly braked, red taillights glowing in the dark.

Frowning and panting, I watched as the SUV reversed, the front passenger window lowering halfway till Shane’s grinning face peered from the dark.

“What the fuck do you want?” I growled, knowing if I leaped forward to grab at him, they’d only take off before I had time.

“So you left us for a girl?” His tone was belittling. “You were never one to follow your dick around, man. Thought more of you.”

My leaving Austin was more complicated than that. I wasn’t just following my dick, but the organ that pumped the blood through my veins.

“I left the pack long before I left Austin.”

His face tensed. He never did like hearing the truth. Though I hung with him and some of the guys once in a while, like I had on New Year’s Eve, I’d officially left the pack long before that.

The pack’s former leader, this dick named Mason, had led them into a fight with an MC gang that had almost killed a few of them, including Shane who’d gotten a crowbar to the head so hard it fractured his skull that night.

I’d kicked the shit out of Mason and left the pack for good. I’d stayed in Austin, playing music and hanging with some of the guys here and there, until I had good reason to leave.

“You’re right,” Shane bit out bitterly, “you abandoned us long before you chased after the witch.”

“Where’s Mason?”

“Gone.”

“You’re in charge now?”

He grinned. “Don’t look so surprised.”

I wasn’t. “What the fuck are you doing in New Orleans?”

“Not here for you.” His gaze slid sideways right as the guys ran up on us, standing at my side.

“You really are a witch lover, aren’t you?” Again, that condescending tone, underlined with menace.

Shane had been my best friend for a long time and obviously had hang-ups about me leaving, but I couldn’t help his ego. It seemed our friendship might be beyond repair by the look of disgust on his face.

“You wanna talk this out?” I asked, throwing out an olive branch, knowing he sure as fuck wasn’t going to.

All I got in return was a curl of his lip. “No, I don’t wanna talk this out. I’m not here about you.”

“Why are you here then?”

“None of your fucking business.”

I stepped off the curb but didn’t lunge and reach for his throat through the window like I wanted to. “Tell me why you went to see Violet.” I clenched my fists.

His grin spread wide then he raised the window just as the SUV launched forward, tearing dangerously down the narrow street.

“Who is that asshole?” asked Cole.

“An old friend.”

“Don’t think he’s your friend anymore,” said Drew at my side, the four of us watching as the taillights disappeared around the corner of Canal Street farther in the distance.

“No, he’s not,” I agreed.

We made our way quickly back to the girls who’d headed in our direction but at a much slower pace, mainly because Livvy and Clara were wearing heels and couldn’t move very fast at all.

I was relieved to see the three of them safe and sound when we met them halfway down that darker side street.

“What happened?” asked Violet, looking much more sober all of a sudden.

Without answering her, I pulled out my phone and punched in Devraj’s number. It only took him two rings to answer, even at this time of night. But I wouldn’t expect anything less from a vampire like him.

“What is it?” he asked on the other end. There was rustling as if he was getting out of bed.

“I have to leave for three days, but I just had a run-in with Shane and a few of his pack.”

“They’ll need to leave, too, won’t they?”

“Yeah. But I’d still feel better if someone was watching the shop. And the Savoie house.”

I coasted a hand down Violet’s back, a friendly brush I told myself, while she frowned up at me, obviously wondering what was going on.

The guys were telling Livvy and Clara about our incident. Violet half-listened to them, but her gaze kept coming back to me, concern etched on her face. Cole was scowling and Drew looked grave, but Travis said something lighthearted, probably to keep the ladies from worrying.

“Not a problem. I’ll have my eyes on the Savoie sisters, and I’ll talk to Ruben about the shop.”

I breathed out a heavy sigh, frustration making me furious.

“Don’t worry, Cruz. I’ll take care of your girl.”

Well, I guess Mateo wasn’t the only one who knew.

“I owe you.”

“No, you don’t. Go take care of yourself, and everything will be fine when you get back.”

With a muttered “thanks,” I hung up and followed the others, who were already to Royal Street again.

“Who was that? Ruben?” asked Violet.

“Devraj.”

“What happened with Shane?”

“Nothing worth mentioning.”

I grabbed her hand to guide her through the crowd across the street. I was glad she didn’t pull away, letting me keep her hand in mine, after we wound into a less-populated space.

She was probably still a bit buzzed and would undoubtedly presume this was a friendly hand-holding.

Her other sisters and the guys were walking in a straight line, arms hooked together like children, Travis saying something that had them all laughing. I was right as rain where I was, tucking Violet’s slim body close to me, her hand cradled in mine.

Never before had I wished I wasn’t a werewolf as much as I did right now. Being away from her for even a day felt like pure torture. My desire was spiraling out of control, and I knew it.

Maybe the absence would help me get grounded and take control of this obsession so that I could come back and play like friends. I could only hope.