I left Mys' studio with a mind to stroll awhile and return when my temper was in check. Somehow, I ended on a quest to see the voodoo loa, and I realized maybe that had been my subconscious intent all along.

But not even a half-hour after finding the place, I shot through the cinderblock wall and stumbled away from the address on the business card. It had been a mistake to come. A drunk man sleeping on the landing turned bloodshot eyes toward me. I fled in the opposite direction.

Loud music thumped from one apartment despite the pre-dawn hour. Conversations meandered behind closed doors. Arguments festered, and babies cried. This place was alive, but I didn't belong here. A paint-scarred door opened, and a gaggle of teens poured out from another unit, but I ran straight through them. Their jubilant laughter seemed to chase me from the poorly lit hallway.

I squeezed the crumpled business card in a fist as I raced down another flight of stairs. Finally, I spilled into the rainy morning and peered up at the building. I hadn't met the loa. I had met one of her priestesses, instead. She had told me I couldn't see anyone without an offering, and I couldn't return to life without a sacrifice.

A human sacrifice.

Shaking my head, I took off walking in the downpour. The lightning and thunder didn't bother me. I was beyond it. I trudged through puddles that didn't shift beneath my feet. I hugged myself for warmth I didn't need. Disappointment curled in my stomach. I wouldn't live again. I was dead, and that was final.

The dreary New Orleans' scenery passed unnoticed. I didn't pay attention to the black car that wound up on every street I took, although I did happen to see the hooded figure loitering near a stop sign who fox-whistled when I trudged past. Groaning inwardly at the thought of getting catcalled even in the Afterlife, I ignored him, but he jogged after me.

"Hey, mamas. Got whatever you need. None of that human bullshit. Crack is whack. I got Volupt, got that Obliviscor," he ticked off what I presumed were drug names since he jiggled a pill bottle at me.

I tucked into myself and walked faster. "I'm not here for that, thanks. I want to be left alone." Without regard to what I said, he fell in step beside me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed scales flaring and disappearing on his skin.

"You ain't from 'round here, is you?" he asked.

I stopped to confront him. "Seriously, back all the way the fuck off."

That's when I saw the black car pull curbside just ahead and a driver come around and open the door. I stared warily until Darcy Cyprian leaned his head out and flashed a pleasant smile. He wore sunshades, in spite of the storm. Also, his chauffer shielded him from the cloud-covered sky with an oversized black umbrella. Otherwise, I think the vampire would have fried.

"Leave," Darcy said to the drug dealer.

My harasser backpedaled so fast that he tripped and fell before sprinting off. I stared icily at my "rescuer." As I strode past Darcy's open door, the nightwalker stepped from the Rolls Royce. Though the car was clearly out of place in the ghetto, the aura emanating from him kept anyone from approaching.

He was dressed in a blue business suit that fit like it was tailormade. The rainy weather didn't ruffle him any more than it did me. But he took the umbrella and held it over us both after easily catching up with me.

"Isn't it past your curfew?" I snapped.

"Yes. I have to admit, you have me acting out of character. Tell me why you're not happy. Didn't I deliver what you wanted?" When I didn't reply, he added, "Well, I guess we have all day. I'm only risking sunlight."

I stopped and glared at him. "You didn't mention the sacrifice."

"It seemed self-evident," Darcy laughed. "How else did you expect your disembodied Soul to return to the face of the earth? Of course, you need a body."

"I prefer my own, thanks." I took off again.

"We should talk. Give me five minutes of your time." He extended an arm, gesturing toward his vehicle. I glanced up. The sky was getting lighter.

"I don't trust you. You could drive off with me," I said.

"I'll make the driver stand in the rain, poor chap. I promise I won't spirit you away."

I gnawed my lip, knowing I shouldn't go, but he could answer my questions. What he wanted with Haley, for example. I couldn't ask that. According to Zyr, the vampire had no clue he was after my sister.

When the clouds shifted, and a tiny amount of sunlight made him visibly uncomfortable, I hurried back to the car. "Get in," I growled. He folded his tall, muscular frame into the backseat and closed the door behind us. The interior smelled of leather and cognac. The tinted window blotted out the sky. It was fearfully cozy.

"Thank you for your kindness. Rather unexpected, for someone who assumes I murdered them," Darcy said with a smile. The rain came down harder, and I guiltily pictured the driver in the downpour.

"I'm beginning to think nothing in Overlay City is that cut-and-dried. Now, why do you want me resurrected? Hurry up," I replied.

"Are you ready for more honesty? Because I'll warn you in advance, I tell the unvarnished truth. It isn't pretty."

I crossed my arms. "You want to waste time with a preamble?"

"I did drug you," he admitted.

"Okay, we're done here. You don't have anything new to tell me." I reached for the door, but what Darcy said next stopped me dead in my tracks.

"I drugged you because you were supposed to be the sacrifice."

"What are you talking about?" A chill ran down my spine.

"I have a special someone, dear. To be blunt, they needed you in order to extend their usefulness to me. In a twist, you enchanted me. This may sound cliché, but I've only had eyes for you ever since that party."

"Well, I no longer have that body, so?" I tried to play it tough, but my voice was pitchy.

The vampire casually lifted a shoulder. "Bodies are interchangeable. I would know. I get bored with old toys."

"And you switch them out? That's what you were gonna do with me and your 'special someone'? How utilitarian and entitled!" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

Darcy gave a closed-lip grin and draped an arm along the back of the seat. "I warned you I tell the truth. Since your unfortunate accident, watching you in Overlay City has made me certain you're the one I want."

"I'm not something you can own, Mr. Cyprian."

"No, of course not," he said as he touched my hair. "You're not like my pets. I'm offering much more than that." He stared at me with worshipful green eyes, and my skin crawled. He seemed like the type to keep a shrine in his closet. Or, worse, the object of his affections locked away.

Shrinking, I asked, "How did you even find me here?"

"Detective Zyr has a knack for sniffing out the paranormal. I followed his nose. Of course, I thought he'd be smarter, but werewolves aren't exactly known for their big brains. After all, he took you out last night as bait, as if I wouldn't taste the vampire hunter weaponry on the very air. It was a naked set-up," he sneered derisively.

"Underestimate him, if you want, but Zyr is smarter than you think. He wants you behind bars, and he'll figure out a way to make that happen."

"No, he wants me punished, dear heart. There's a difference. Don't fall for the cur," Darcy pined. "Do you think he cares what happens to you? You're dead to him. Ravani has been after me for years, and you're his perfect pawn. If you choose to be. You have other options."

I squirmed, wishing his words didn't fill me with such uneasiness. Whatever the detective's hang-ups, he was one of the good guys. Be that as it may, the vampire brought a fair point. If Zyr had suspected someone might be following him—which was the whole reason I was in hiding in the first place—why had he kept coming back to the cathedral? I knew he badly wanted an arrest, but enough to use me?

I jerked my head to clear the thought. "Your five minutes are up, Darcy."

"But, dear heart, I haven't told you the best part about Resurrection."

"What's the best part?" I grimaced.

"What's in it for you."