She shook her head. No, she wasn’t going to be disappointed. She was relieved.
Fisting her hands at her side, she continued walking. The soft tap of the rubber of her tennis shoes against the pavers echoed quietly between the two buildings. The rising sun and the shadows of the alley did nothing to shield her from the heat of the day. The humidity would reach its fingers through every nook and cranny of the Crescent City and not leave any living thing untouched.
She plucked her sweaty shirt away from her stomach and cursed the heat.
Reaching into her back pocket, she fished out a ponytail holder. She secured her sweaty hair with the tiny scrap of elastic. A heated breeze skimmed the back of her naked neck and a loose drop of sweat rolled down from her hair.
She swiped her hand across her forehead and glanced both ways down the street. After a car rolled past, she hurried across and then took another left toward the run-down part of town.
This wasn’t a part of town she would ever brave alone at night, but right now, with the sun coming up over the horizon, she felt safe enough to travel and not worry about getting mugged.
This was a high-crime area, especially after dark. Though drug houses were abundant in the neighborhood, so were the elderly people. Those were the people who’d lived there all their lives and couldn’t afford to move out. Their neighborhood had been taken over by the drug dealers, and the elderly were stuck.
She stopped when she came to Mrs. Willis’s house. The shotgun-style house, painted a vivid yellow many years ago, had seen better days. After weathering storms like Hurricane Katrina, the house was more the color of a coffee-stained tablecloth than a bright friendly yellow. A peeling white picket fence and the small gate hanging off-center were more evidence of how the house had fallen into disrepair.
Every now and then, Catty would squeeze her eyes and imagine the house in its glory days, when it looked like a picturesque portrait of the typical American dream. It was a blessing in disguise that Mrs. Willis had gone blind a few years ago from glaucoma. She would hate to know what her house looked like now.
She shoved open the damaged gate and walked down the uneven brick walk to the front door. The porch was small and empty with an old white rocking chair. In the spring, Catty had come by and hung some purple petunias from the porch. Mrs. Willis had commented on the smell and assured Catty they must be pretty. To some, it might seem like a waste of money since Mrs. Willis would never see the flowers, but it was worth it to see the old woman smile.
She rapped briskly on the wooden door. “Mrs. Willis, it’s Catty.”
She glanced over at the neighbor’s unkempt yard. The grass was in desperate need of mowing and the bushes against the house looked like they hadn’t been trimmed in over a year. An old Lincoln sedan sat in the yard with its naked wheels up on cinder blocks.
The other houses on the street were not much better. Mrs. Willis would cringe if she could see the forsaken state the neighborhood had fallen into.
She’d tried to get Mrs. Willis to move, but the old lady was stubborn. She said it had been her home for eighty years and she wasn’t about to move. She said the way she was going to leave her home was in a pine box.
The door creaked open, revealing Mrs. Willis dressed in a simple yellow cotton dress and a gray apron.
“Catty, dear.” The excitement in Mrs. Willis’s voice touched something deep inside her and made her homesick. “I didn’t expect you today. Come in, come in.”
“It’s my day off and I thought I would come for a visit.” She gave the woman a hug, inhaling the comforting scent of drugstore perfume.
“I’m glad you came. I’m not sure if I have any cookies for tea, but you’re welcome to look.” Mrs. Willis placed her hand at the base of her throat and frowned. Being brought up in the South, she thrived on being a good hostess, even after her eyesight failed her.
“I ate some beignets and I couldn’t possibly eat another thing,” she declined politely as she stepped inside. The high ceiling fan stirred up enough breeze, sending a welcome relief from the heat.
She glanced around, noticing the dust on the end table beside the couch.
“I hope I didn’t disturb you. I didn’t mean to drop in on you like this.” But I needed someplace safe away from Lucien’s probing eyes.
The way he looked at her had her feeling a certain way about the male. She didn’t want to put a name to the emotion. He might be hot, but he was dangerous. And she was done with dangerous werewolves. She wanted someone safe.
Right now a relationship would have to wait. Her love life was officially on the back burner.
“You know I always love to see you, dear.” Mrs. Willis tapped the floor with her cane as she shuffled into the living room. “Shelly came and cleaned yesterday. It wasn’t her normal day, but she said she needed some extra money for school clothes so I let her.”