Seduction's Kiss (The Allure Chronicles) (9 page)

Daisy and Owen’s story continues in Lure (The Allure Chronicles #1)
releasing on February 16, 2015! Keep reading for a preview of
Lure
.

www.AlyssaRoseIvy.com

www.facebook.com/AlyssaRoseIvy

twitter.com/AlyssaRoseIvy

[email protected]

To stay up to date on
Alyssa’s new releases, join her mailing list:
http://eepurl.com/ktlSj

Alyssa Rose Ivy

Book Description:

There's danger in the
beauty…

Two years, six months,
and twenty-five days. That's how long it had been since I'd seen my
winged hero— not that I'd been counting. I'd suffered through years
of counseling just to convince my friends and family that I wasn't
crazy and knew he didn't exist.

But he did. And I was
done waiting.

Days after college
graduation I headed back down to New Orleans to retrace my steps
and find Owen again only to find my life was about to get even
crazier… thanks to the most beautiful and dangerous of all
paranormal creatures, the Allures.

One
Daisy

“Are you ready to tell
me about your recent dreams?” My psychiatrist, the one my mother
forced me to see, watched as I chipped off more of my dark purple
nail polish.

“There’s nothing worth
sharing.”

“Are you sure?” she
pressed. She seemed to think pushing me made me more talkative. It
didn’t.

“Absolutely. There’s
been nothing new for months.” My answer was completely true. My
dreams hadn’t changed. Of course she’d probably want to know that I
was still having the same recurring dreams that had filled my
nights for over two and a half years.

“You haven’t been
thinking about that boy then?” She pushed her glasses up on the
bridge of her nose.

“I’m seeing someone
new. I told you that a few weeks ago.”

“Oh, yes. Andrew, isn’t
it?” She leaned back in her chair.

“Yes. It’s long
distance, but we’ll get to see each other later this week.” I was
getting really good at giving selective information that didn’t
require outright lying.

“Are you still planning
your trip down to New Orleans?”

“Yes. It’s a fantastic
opportunity. I need to take the interview.” I straightened up on
the couch.

“Have you considered
what effect this might have on you? Whether it might trigger the
dreams and thoughts again?”

“Of course I have.” Or
rather I’d considered how my family and psychiatrist would respond
to me going. I knew it was my only option. It had been two and a
half years since I’d nearly been killed, and it had been just as
long since I’d seen my rescuer, Owen. Although the fear from the
close brush with death had started to fade, my desire to see Owen
again hadn’t. It had increased. We’d only shared one kiss—but that
kiss might as well have been branded on my lips for how difficult
it was to shake the memory.

“And you think you’re
ready for it? Have you considered asking a friend or family member
to go with you?”

“I’m meeting Andrew
there. It’s going to be fine.”

She pressed her lips
together. “I am glad that you are so confident.”

“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m
completely better now.”

“How much does Andrew
know? Is he aware of your history of dreams and visons involving
the city?”

“He knows everything.
One of the best parts about him is how easy it is to talk to
him.”

“How did he react when
you told him?”

“He understood
completely. He’s just glad I’m better.” Only partially true. He did
understand completely, but he was the only one who knew the truth.
I hadn’t given up my obsession.

“Great. It’s important
that you surround yourself with people who understand. Would you
like me to talk to him before you go? Make sure he’s prepared for
anything you may go through?”

“No!” I replied a
little too quickly. “I mean, I’d rather not have you talk to
him.”

She folded her hands in
her lap. “That’s your choice.”

“Thanks.” I put my bag
over my shoulder. “It’s time, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’ll see you
back after your trip.”

“Yeah. I’ll see you
then.” I smiled before hurrying out of her office. I’d already paid
my copay, so I walked out of the office and back down to the
parking garage. It wasn’t until I was in the car that I let out a
sigh of relief. Final obstacle out of my way. It was time to return
to New Orleans.

***

I signed into
Paranormal Obsessed, the online community I’d spent way too much of
my free time on lately. The way I saw it, I didn’t have much of a
choice. I’d tried to tell my friends and family about my
experiences in New Orleans, but none of them believed me. Not even
Reyna, the one friend who’d gone through it with me. When Owen told
me they’d wiped Reyna’s mind of the events, he wasn’t kidding. The
problem was they’d wiped her mind of a lot more. The pre- New
Orleans Reyna was more interested in playing matchmaker than going
to class. The post-New Orleans Reyna was the president of the
community service club. Part of me thought she was a better person
now, but I’d never say that out loud.

I had a new message,
and I clicked on the link to open it.

AT45: Hey! We’re
getting ready to hit the road. We still on for Wednesday?

The green “online” icon
was lit so I replied back quickly.

Flowergirl1: We’re
still on. I just need to finish packing.

AT45: Nice. How’d that
appointment go?

Flowergirl1: Fine.
Same old.

Andrew knew more about
my current life than most of the people who actually knew me. I’d
learned pretty quickly that trying to convince people you’d met
paranormal creatures can only get you in trouble. I stopped trying
when the word “committed” got tossed around. So, on the outside I
was back to being the peppy, “normal” sorority girl I was supposed
to be. I got decent enough grades in college and went out enough to
keep my friends from worrying. I didn’t enjoy going out though
because I got way too much of the wrong kind of attention from
guys. There was a certain witch to blame for that. At least it
wasn’t a problem online. Everything was easier when I was just
typing.

I tossed my tablet next
to me on the bed and closed my eyes. I remembered that Halloween
night like it had just happened. I’d learned to block out the bad
details. The ones about being kidnapped by vampires and nearly
drained to death. The details I didn’t let myself forget were the
ones about Owen rescuing me from the house and bringing me to be
healed. I didn’t forget about his beautiful black wings, or the way
he said my name. Daisy. And most of all, I didn’t forget about the
kiss.

“
If I kiss you,
will you promise not to talk about us? To forget about
Pterons?”

“
I can’t
forget.”

“
Will you try? At
least promise not to tell anyone.”

“
I can promise to
try.”

I felt the bed shift,
and I stayed as still as possible. Was he moving closer to me?

His lips brushed
against mine lightly, but that small contact set me on fire. I
reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck. The action did
something to him, because the feather light kiss grew more fevered.
I soaked up the salty-sweetness of his mouth. My entire body hummed
and responded to his lips. His hands pressed into the bed on either
side of me as he hovered over me, and I buried my hands in
hair.

I opened my eyes and
sighed. The daydream was over. That was it. After the kiss, I’d
fallen asleep, and the next thing I knew I was waking up in the
passenger seat of Reyna’s car. She was pounding on the window
asking why I’d spent the night out there. It didn’t take me long to
discover that she remembered nothing—and that she thought I’d lost
my mind.

I heard a ding and
checked the tablet screen.

AT45: Oh, and I think
I’ve got a new lead for you. I’ll tell you more when I see you.

Flowergirl1: What kind
of lead?

The green signed on
icon disappeared. Of course. He enjoyed teasing me with stuff like
that. It didn’t matter. I was finally going back. College
graduation was a week behind me, and I had a legitimate reason to
return to the crescent city—a job interview for an internship at
The New Orleans Times. I’d never planned to pursue a career in
journalism, but after all the time I spent researching to find out
every little detail I could about Owen, it was a natural decision
to switch my major.

I pulled out my go-to
black, wheeled duffel bag and started tossing in some clothes. The
bag was getting old, but the wheels still worked fine. I tossed in
my bag of toiletries and two pairs of shoes. I was trying to travel
light, but I needed some nice clothes for the interview.

I opened my door and
started to drag my duffel down the hall of my childhood home. I had
no intention of making it my primary residence again.

“Do you need help with
your bags?” My dad called up.

“No. It’s just
one.”

He ignored my response
and met me before I’d even made it three stairs. He pulled the bag
from my hand.

“Thanks.” I appreciated
the help even though the bag wasn’t super heavy.

“Of course. I still
can’t believe you’re leaving again so soon. You’ve only been home a
few days.”

“This internship could
be a great opportunity and they scheduled the interview.”

“I know. I was just
hoping you’d be around a little this summer.”

“I’m only going to be
gone a few days. Even if I get the job, the internship won’t start
for a month or so.” I highly doubted I was going to get the job,
which meant every second counted during the interview trip.

“All right. I guess we
should get moving if you’re going to make your flight.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to
miss it.” I tried to keep myself as calm as possible. My dad was
acting cool, but I knew he was worried about me going back to New
Orleans. My mom was the one who made me see a therapist, but dad
still worried in his own way.

Less than three hours
later I was buckled in and ready for take-off. This was really
happening. In a few hours I’d be back in New Orleans.

Two
Daisy

I checked the details
of my hotel information again to make sure the name matched up with
the building in front of me. It was gorgeous—even more gorgeous in
person than it was online. Maybe it was worth the ridiculously high
price tag I was paying for it. My mom had insisted I splurge on a
nice place to stay. Since I was only staying two nights, I decided
to go for it because the location was perfect. It was right down in
the French Quarter.

I stepped out of the
airport shuttle and headed to the front doors. A bell boy held open
the door for me, and I stepped into the absolutely breathtaking
lobby of The Crescent City Hotel. My eyes first traveled to a
beautiful chandelier with dangling crystals, before I noticed the
large travertine tiles covering the floor and the dark wainscoting
that framed the room.

I walked over to the
front desk, eyeing a beautiful mahogany bar. I’d have to check out
the bar later.

“May I help you?” A
petite woman asked.

“Yes, I’d like to check
in. The name is Daisy Welford.”

“One second.” She typed
something into her computer. “I’ve got your reservation right here,
Ms. Welford. What card would you like to leave for
incidentals?”

I slid my Visa across
the desk.

“Here you go. You’re on
the fourth floor. The elevators are across the lobby.” She slid a
paper envelope across the counter.

“Thanks.” I returned my
credit card to its spot in my wallet and pocketed the envelope with
the room keys before walking over to the elevator. A man dressed in
a deep gray business suit was also waiting.

An elevator arrived,
and I stepped in. The man didn’t move to enter. “There’s plenty of
room.”

“That’s fine, I’m going
down.”

“Uh, ok.” The doors
closed. What was he talking about? The lobby was the ground floor.
The guy must have been confused. I’d been judged enough the past
few years to do the same to anyone else. I pushed the button for
the fourth floor.

I found my room and
walked in. It was fairly small, with a queen sized bed, but it
seemed nice. I set down my duffel and purse on the bed and looked
out the window. It looked over an interior courtyard. Not bad. I
had nothing planned until my interview the next morning. I needed
to find some dinner, and that was a perfect excuse to take a walk
around the French Quarter. I made a fast stop in the bathroom
before heading right back downstairs to the lobby. I was met with a
wave of humid heat as soon as I stepped outside, but I quickly got
used to it. I wasn’t unaccustomed to the heat.

The streets were far
less crowded than the last time I’d walked them. Maybe it was the
time of year, or because it wasn’t Halloween weekend. Either way,
it was nice to walk around without worrying about the crowds. I was
able to better appreciate the architecture and the sights and
smells of the city. It reminded me of the quiet morning I’d spent
downtown last time.

At first I just
wandered down Chartres Street, but as the sun started to set, I
headed over to Jackson Square. It looked nearly identical to the
last time I’d walked through, and most of the vendors were the
same.

I took a deep breath
before heading over to Royal Street. This was my first chance to
try to see some of the people I’d met my first trip to New Orleans.
I wanted to start with the small photography studio. It seemed
safer than the voodoo shop, which had been way more real than I’d
originally thought. I stopped in front of where the shop should
have been. I wasn’t all that surprised to find the store now housed
a new artist. There was a lot of turnover in the art world,
particularly when it came to maintaining a high priced store
front.