Have you ever been to New Orleans? I don't mean as a tourist but as a recurring tourist. Almost like it was something beyond the booze, beads, tits, and drunk fights; even more than the paranormal/ supernatural crap people still believed in. But, have you ever truly been to New Orleans? Into the depths of the earth, into the graveyards after the lights are out, walking down the streets in the crease between night and daylight. Have you ever been a witch coming into New Orleans? Have you ever felt the air? Touch the swamps kiss… Have you ever truly been to New Orleans?

Trumpets pounded freely, drums pounding wildly, a zoo of instruments guiding my hips to its sway. I knew the path proudly, they were leading me to my lover, as I instructed them to! One of the boys in the band made eye contact with me, lips constantly growing with a smile. He wanted me, and in any other circumstance- I would've wanted him to, but I was on a mission now. I had to find Marcellus Gerard. Twirling in overdue delight, I protruded my power to all corners of the quarter. One guy with an oversized drum smacked the gawking boy's head, motioning him to pay attention to the route. I bellowed in laughter. I felt the witches of New Orleans all around me, they watched the show as I pranced down the French Quarter, none sought to welcome me into their city, but all held warm smiles. I had to admit, it was less supernatural creatures on the grounds than when I had been here before. Vampires running free. Werewolves in the swamps-hiding. Witches in the shadows… New Orleans was a totally different area. The band's roar pounded around the quarter until stumbling upon a huge vineyard mansion. The dragon signature curled under the grand 'M'. Bodies lingered all around the four balconies, one girl with a multicolored mohawk dangled from the arm of the fountain statue.

For some apparent reason, vampires looked different to me, their energy felt different. Yet, I looooooooved the attention they bestowed on me. Their eyes matched with bloodlust curled in my stomach and turned something far more than fear but sparked my magic with a new sense of urgency. My power called to the band- causing the ruckus to stop.

"Who are you?" One curly haired vampire growled, I couldn't help myself from mustering a smile, he pressed against my chest, the bridge under his eyes slowly pulsating with bloodshot veins. Another vampire instantly approached at my backside, growling against my back.

"Oh nice, a sandwich." I muttered fiercely, knowing both could hear me promptly.

"He asked a question, I think you better answer." He spat through his lips. My power instantly rippled through the air, touching the atmosphere in radiance, I extended my fingers slowly- calling for my power to come forth. Both vampires bellowed in pain. Both grabbing for their temples in agony. A shadow stormed from the balcony, coming into my sight. He slowly stalked towards me, a wide smile on his face.

"Aveeno Bennet. My old friend. I would say it was nice to see you, but…" he pointed towards the two vampires swallowing in pain.

"Hello, Marcellus."

The air was stale in his quarters, I wanted to say bedroom, but I knew vampires never really held the desire to sleep. Also, I knew Marcellus, he hardly used a bed for sleeping. Books were sprawled around the room, he offered me a double rocks glass with brown liquor filled halfway. The Jack Daniels aroma closeting my nostrils. I lifted my hand in resistment.

"A Bennet witch that doesn't drink. I'll be damned."

"Oh shut up, Marcellus. I actually don't drink in the day time, not that you could tell the difference." I let go in a sharp remark, he repaid me with a coy smile before flashing in front of my face. His glared turned flirtatious and I knew where his mind was traveling. I lifted my eyebrow- slipping onto his crimson red comforter.

"I have my guys all around, you will have to be extremely quiet," He growled into my ear. I could feel his member growing slightly under his denim pants.

"None of them know yet?"

"Know what, Aveeno?"

"That you are not straight. Marcellus, you're still-" He gripped my neck abruptly, I could feel the breath escape from my chest with his clasp, he was suffocating me. I repelled my power, calling forth the magic of the city, casting my energy upon him. Marcellus backed in shrieking pain, reaching towards his head.

"You know I love it when you play dirty." He straightened his dusty brown jacket. "I apologize for getting rough with you. I got a lot on my plate, I don't need more problems with you."

"So I hear. No need to snap my neck off."

"I said I was sorry," he inched closer to me, his smile slowly returning. "So, tell me-" he murmured in my ear. "What brings you back to New Orleans?" I ignored our almost argument, pretending to be interested in one of the books.

"There are whispers, Marcellus." I moved from his grace, falling away from his grasp. "The spirits are communicating with these ancestors of New Orleans, that never happens on occasion."

"You telling me they don't have weekly tea parties?"

"I'm not joking, Marcellus. Someone is hemorrhaging magic from everywhere, and it's causing the other side to shake." My voice came out harshly. "Something is bound to happen within the air soon, something big." His gaze moved from the floor to my eyes, he moved closer.

"Have you seen anything? Tell me everything."

"Are you willing to tell me everything?"

Marcellus moved away from me, peering through a cut in the wall, looking over the balcony at his army. Sorry, family. He moved back towards me, pulling my arm into dark corridors, the ancient passageways lit by a mere candle in a holder. His feet moved a tad faster than mine, and he seemed to be dragging me in the wind. We shifted into a dark room that smelled heavily of lavender and basil. I couldn't see in the darkness, but I felt his lips upon mine, his broad arms closing my waist, he lifted my body until my legs wrapped around his waist.

"I missed you," He whispered against my lips, reaching his lower hand down to his crotch.

"I missed you too Marcellus, but we know how things ended last time."

"A lot of fireworks!"

"And a werewolf massacre. Which I only allowed because that Gyro-bitch was annoying and bothering the witches in 1952, I never forget a grudge."

"Guerrera." Marcellus corrected.

"Bottom line, it cannot happen again."

"Her family is mortal now, they can't change on a full moon. As for the other part, well, why not?" He licked the nape of my neck, his erect penis slipping out of his unbuckled pants. It was becoming hard to say 'No' when all I wanted to do was scream 'Yes'.

"Marcellus."

"You know you are the only person who still calls me Marcellus. My name is Marcel, Aveeno." The way my name rolled off his tongue, I felt every depth of my sexual incompetence call forth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, replacing my legs around his waist once more. He took my face into his own, throwing me against a desk chair, he scrambled to my side in a flash- ripping my shirt from my chest. I moved off the chair, placing my lips on his, unbuckling his pants hastily. Marcel crouched on top of me, his tongue reached my nose. Our chuckles hugging each other, he grabbed for me once more. I pinned him to the desk, his moans filled the air and excited me to a point where my magic began to roam free. Along with my further resistance.

"Screw it."