Alias: The Doyen Series book 1

(15) REIGN

PICTURE: THE CAJUN LEPRECHAUN.

Grayson's phone rings before I have the chance to ask him any questions.

"What?" he snaps the second he answers the phone. I feel sorry for whomever is on the other side of that call.

I am scared and I'm not the one he just yelled at.

35 seconds slice through the thick air like a machete.

"You're serious?" he asks, this time more calm. He waits for the answer to his question and swiftly looks over to me in the front seat. I stare back at him in question. I can listen to his conversation, I suppose, but I am honestly afraid that he will kill me for it.

I am pondering if the thought is paranoia or self-preservation when Grayson looks back at the road and sighs an unhappy sigh. "I'll be right there," he almost growls as he hangs up the phone. I watch as he calmly places it in 1 of the cup holders and places both hands on the wheel.

2 hands,

10 fingers,

40 veins grip the steering wheel like it is going to run away.

I watch as he makes a turn off the overpass in the opposite direction of his home. I am confused as I ride with him down the dark French Quarter streets into a dark alley on Bourbon Street.

The first thing I realize is the vacancy of the famous street. There is not 1 person in sight. I expect to feel relieved to not be surrounded by people. However, I feel the opposite.

I look at the clock on the dashboard: 10:56 p.m.

Bourbon at night time should never be empty.

My senses are instantly on high alert.

"Sorry, love," Grayson says when he notices my uneasiness. "We have to make a quick stop."

I don't bother to ask him what this stop entails because I know he will not answer me, at least not without being cryptic. However, I make no move to get out of the car.

My instinct tells me that this "quick stop" will not be for ice cream.

Grayson gracefully gets out of his car and walks to the front of the vehicle. 10 seconds pass as he stands there with his hands on his hips. "Are you coming?" I see him mouth at me irritably.

Do I have to? I ask him uneasily.

Yes, he answers.

I sigh.

I huff.

I grunt.

I open the door.

He automatically begins to walk away and I am forced to trip, stumble, falter over my own feet to catch up with him.

"Where are we going?" my curiosity finally eats away at my esophagus.

"To meet a few buddies of mine," he says cryptically with a wink.

I exhale loudly and kick a rock in front of me. "So, you brought me to Bourbon Street at 11:00 to meet your friends?" I ask sarcastically.

Grayson's shoulders shrug easily 1, 2, 3 times and he cracks a meticulous smile. "In one way or another."

Annoyance.