Blood on Bourbon

6. Flicker of Doubt

Blood On Bourbon

Chapter 6: Flicker of doubt

Narrator

The humid New Orleans air clung to Erin’s skin as she led Calum and Duncan through the narrow streets, her boots scuffing against the uneven pavement. She hadn’t planned to take them to the alley first, but something gnawed at her—a need to show them the spot where she’d found Mia’s sparkly veil, the one piece of her friend that had sent her heart racing with hope and dread. The veil had been crumpled in the shadows, glinting faintly under a flickering streetlamp, and next to it, that strange red smear on the brick wall. She couldn’t shake the image from her mind, and she needed them to see it too.

Calum walked beside her, his stride loose and confident like he owned every inch of the city. His shaggy, light brown hair fell slightly into his eyes, and he kept tossing her winks and crooked smiles that made her stomach flip despite herself. Each time their arms brushed, a spark jolted through her, and she cursed inwardly for letting it get to her. Duncan, on the other hand, was a quiet storm at her other side—tall and broad, his presence steady but intense. His hazel eyes tracked her every move, lingering when she glanced away, and though he rarely spoke, the weight of his gaze felt like a hand brushing her spine. The tension between the three of them simmered, thick and unspoken, as they turned into the alley.

“Here,” Erin said, stopping abruptly. She pointed at the wall where the red smear stood out against the weathered brick, then crouched to pick up the veil from where she’d left it, tucked into a corner. The sequins caught the dim light, shimmering like a lost star. “This is Mia’s. And that—” She gestured to the smear. “I don’t know what it is, but it’s been haunting me.”

Calum stepped closer, his playful demeanor shifting as he leaned in to inspect the mark. He bent low, his nose almost brushing the wall, and inhaled deeply. For a split second, Erin swore his eyes changed—flashing a wild, hazy red, untamed and feral, like something ancient waking up inside him. Her breath caught, her pulse spiking as she stared at him. But then he blinked, and the color was gone, replaced by his usual stormy gray. He straightened, brushing it off with a quick shake of his head.

“Yeah, it’s blood,” he said casually, his voice smooth as if he hadn’t just unnerved her. “Old, though. Not fresh enough to panic over.”

Erin frowned, her mind still snagged on that fleeting glimpse of red in his eyes. “Blood? You’re sure?”

“Aye,” he replied, flashing her a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “I’ve got a nose for these things. Let’s not linger, eh?”

Duncan, who’d been silently watching from a few steps back, finally spoke. “We should move on. If Mia’s out there, we’re wasting time.” His tone was low and steady, but there was an edge to it that made Erin’s skin prickle. He didn’t look at the wall or the veil—just at her, his expression unreadable but heavy with intent.

She nodded, shoving the veil into her pocket. “Right. Let’s go.”

The streets of New Orleans buzzed around them as they left the alley, the chaos of the French Quarter swallowing them up. Tourists stumbled past with plastic cups sloshing, their laughter echoing off the pastel buildings. Jazz spilled from open doorways, horns and drums weaving a frantic pulse that matched Erin’s nerves. Calum and Duncan cut through the crowd with ease, their height and broad shoulders parting the sea of bodies, and Erin hurried to keep up. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being pulled deeper into something she didn’t fully understand—not just Mia’s disappearance, but these two Scotsmen who’d swept into her life with their accents and their secrets.

Eventually, they veered away from the tourist traps, the noise fading as the streets grew narrower and quieter. The houses here were older, grander, their wrought-iron balconies sagging under the weight of time. Some were pristine, painted in soft yellows and blues, but others loomed dilapidated and dark, their windows boarded or shattered. Spanish moss draped from sprawling oak trees, swaying in the breeze like ghostly curtains, casting long shadows that stretched across the cracked sidewalks. Erin’s steps slowed as reality sank in: she was alone with these men now, far from the safety of the crowds. Her phone felt heavy in her pocket, a lifeline she hadn’t thought of using until this moment.

Calum glanced back at her, catching her hesitation. “You alright, lass?” His voice was teasing, but his eyes searched hers, sharper than before.

“Yeah,” she lied, forcing a smile. “Just… taking it all in.”

Duncan didn’t say anything, but his gaze lingered again, steady and piercing. She couldn’t tell if it was protective or something else, something that made her heart thud harder. Her trust in them, so easily given back at the bar when they’d offered to help find Mia, wavered now. Who were they, really? Two strangers conveniently popped up right when her friend vanished—coincidence or something more? Her mind raced with possibilities, each one darker than the last.

They stopped in front of a towering iron gate, its black bars twisted into ornate curls that had rusted at the edges. Beyond it stood an old mansion, its once-white facade peeling and streaked with grime. The windows were tall and narrow, most of them dark, though a faint flicker of light danced behind one on the second floor. Vines snaked up the walls, strangling the house in green, and the air here felt heavier, charged with something Erin couldn’t name.

“This is it,” Duncan said, his voice cutting through the silence. “If Mia’s captor is hiding anywhere, it’s here.”

Erin stared at the gate, her stomach twisting. “How do you know?”

Calum shrugged, leaning against the bars with a casualness that felt forced. “Call it a hunch. We’ve been tracking whispers about this place—old stories, strange folk coming and going. Fits the bill for someone who’d snatch a lass like Mia.”

She wanted to press them, to demand more than vague hunches and cryptic looks, but the weight of the moment pressed down on her. Mia could be inside—hurt, scared, waiting for her. Erin’s doubts warred with her desperation, and in the end, the need to find her friend won out.

“Okay,” she said, her voice firmer than she felt. “Let’s check it out.”

Duncan pushed the gate open with a creak that echoed down the empty street, and the three of them stepped onto the overgrown path leading to the mansion’s door. The shadows deepened around them, the moss overhead swaying like it was watching. Erin’s hand brushed Calum’s as they walked, accidental but electric, and he shot her a quick, knowing smile. Duncan stayed close on her other side, his silence louder than ever. Whatever lay ahead, Erin knew she was crossing a line—into the unknown, with two men she wasn’t sure she could trust, and a mystery that felt bigger than she’d ever imagined.