La Luxure: Discover Your Blood Lust Read Online Free Page B

time." Somehow, Julia was pretty sure not
everyone in New Orleans was drunk all the time and there was a lot
more to this city than Mike had seen. "Hey, but it's a great place
to party!" he added as the waiter delivered their drinks. "Start a
tab, my man!" he exclaimed, handing the waiter his credit card.
    This wasn't exactly the night of adventure
Julia had in mind when she'd left her hotel. Sipping at the fruity,
rum infused cocktail, she tried to put all of her misgivings aside
and enjoy the bar and the company. Unfortunately, she had very
little to add to the current conversation about a TV show she'd
only read about on Yahoo news.
    Fiddling with her straw, she glanced around.
The patio was filled with people of all ages, from the barely
twenty-one to couples well over 60, and they all had tourist
stamped across their foreheads.
    It was odd, but she felt completely out of
place. Not just with her colleagues, but in this bar. Like she
wasn't meant to sit in this wrought iron chair on this patio
drinking this famous drink. It felt off.
    Which was ridiculous. She looked exactly like
most of the other patrons, with her trendy jeans, fitted black
sweater and heeled boots. She even had the same hair, the same
neutral makeup, heck, the same purse as half the women in the bar.
Somehow, it just didn't. Feel. Right.
    She wondered suddenly what was going on at Luxure . What type of music was playing? Were people dancing
or just lounging around on velvet sofas? What was the popular drink
there? Were they even open yet?
    With an inward sigh, she forced her attention
back to the people she was actually with. She should be focusing on
reality, not the fantasy of some bar she would probably never step
foot in.
    The conversation had turned to sports, and
Dave and Mike were vehemently discussing the Mizzou/KU game from
the previous weekend. She listened patiently for a while, trying to
add pertinent comments whenever possible. Julia wasn't exactly a
sports fan, but she worked with a bunch of men who were, so she
wasn't completely unschooled on the topic. Uninterested, but not
unschooled.
    It wasn't long before her attention started
to wander.
    She quickly decided that while Dave was nice
enough, attractive and funny, she had a difficult time seeing him
as the man the fortune teller described. There wasn't anything
wrong with him, but he seemed a tad too mundane to answer the
questions in her soul and awaken the woman that had been locked
away for so long . He also reminded her a bit too much of Jeff,
but that might just be a coincidence. Other than the Hurricane
incident, he seemed like a decent guy. He had plenty going for him
and he was obviously interested.
    Why wasn't she? Was she just being hasty and
judgmental, as usual?
    Maybe that's what felt off about this place.
There wasn't anything wrong with it, and on paper, Julia should
love it. She should want a Hurricane. She should be
content discussing her purse with Beth, or listening to Mike and
Dave debate football draft choices. She should be excited to
be here like any normal person instead of wishing she could return
to her room to find out if Blaise was going to make love to Marguerite, or bite her, or both, or wondering if
multi-color dread guy was at Luxure ...
    It was Julia that was off, not Pat O'Brien's
or Dave. It was like she was too weird for the normal kids and too
normal for the weird kids.
    Julia managed to empty her Hurricane glass
and fill her bladder. She excused herself and sought out the
nearest bathroom. The bar was starting to pick up and get a little
rowdier. She was almost knocked down twice by over enthusiastic
drinkers. Once, she actually had to duck to avoid being clocked in
the face.
    The bathroom became a safe house, the women's
sign a beacon of hope, and she was relieved when she made it there
in one piece. It was merely a bonus when the line wasn't out the
door.
    Julia wasn't much of a bathroom dweller. She
quickly relieved her bladder, washed her hands,