Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series)

by Aneesa Price

  Anais and Co. were viewing his interchange with Sue-Ann with interest. Deciding that he’d provided enough entertainment for the night, he took Sue-Ann’s arm, ignoring her blushes and steered her towards the vampiresses.

  “Sue-Anne, please meet my friends.” Conall waved an arm at each of them as he conducted the introductions. V and Marie then made their way, after the polite amount of nodding, towards Sylvain and Niul to see what the hilarity was about. Niul and Sylvain were hooting at the ‘Ghostly Gadgets”. His lips curved in shared appreciation at the ‘ghost detector’, a complicated electronic contraption that looked like it required a small forklift to get it around.

  “If you’ll excuse us, Sue-Ann,” Conall gave the nervous witch a reason to escape, “we’ll join our friends in looking through your interesting merchandise.”

  He made a further mental note to hasten the need for a mentor for Sue-Anne, that she didn’t pick up that the ladies were vampires was very concerning. A witch, even a learned one, needed to be able to gage other supernaturals and to have the ability to protect herself and other witches if required. New Orleans was crawling with many different sources of magick and creatures and she was like a sheep amongst wolves for as long as she continued to practice her craft as blindly as she had been.

  Browsing around, Conall noted the newest tourist-luring trap, an aphrodisiac to lure vampires ‘for the best sex of your life’. It made him think of a particular vampire standing near to him that he wanted to have the best sex of his life with. Anais’ gaze had followed his and she met his eye knowingly, self-consciously.

  Clearing his throat, he suggested they look for a place to grab a drink.

  Anais nodded at his suggestion. “Any idea of what you’re in the mood for?” At his lifted brow, she blushed and swatted at him, “Not that you one-tracked minded moron. I meant do you know what you want to drink, what kind of place you want to go to?”

  Conall grinned at her, enjoying the playful flirtation and momentarily forgetting about their earlier tension. “I want to drink you, Anais and I’d like to go back to your bedroom at the plantation.”

  She grinned back, soaking it up, determined to keep things light between them, “I’ll pass thanks. But as you’re incapable of shedding light on our next stop, I think we should visit our local Quarter vampire bar.”

  “There’s a vampire bar here?” Conall’s eyebrows rose comically in surprise.

  Anais shrugged nonchalantly, “Of course. There are quite a few vampires here and we have to have a place where we can go undetected and unwind.” She signaled to the others to join them and filled them in on the next stop as they left Madame Mystic.

  “Great idea,” concurred V. “I could use a real drink.”

  Conall’s eyebrows rose again in question, “You have donors there?” The vampiresses broke into uncontrollable laughter. He looked at Niul and Sylvain who held mirrored expressions of confusion.

  Wiping her eyes gently, mindful of her mascara, Anais explained, “Vampires haven’t taken their meals from live donors since the advent of blood banks. Didn’t you know that?”

  “I’m afraid not. I was having visions of the three of you at the necks of three enamored vampire groupies.” Conall looked at the paving in embarrassment. It seemed that even he wasn’t immune to superstitions and the rumor mill.

  “Oh, God, this is too precious,” Anais bent, clutching her stomach, as laughter took her again.

  “I’m sorry for my assumption,” his lips twitched in appreciation of his own folly. “I did try to gather information about vampires so that I had an idea of your customs and would not unnecessarily offend you, but as witches and vampires hardly socialize together, there are obviously glaring gaps in my knowledge of modern vampires.”

  “That’s okay,” Anais wiped some more tears away then patted him gently on the cheek. “I thought witches had progressed from using brooms for transport to using them to play quidditch.”

  The popular reference to Harry Potter had Conall groaning in embarrassment, “I deserved that.” He smiled at her, making her stomach flip and offered his arm courteously, “Shall we then go find that bar and drink to blood and brooms?”

  Chapter 9

  The warm, sultry evening wrapped around her, like a soft baby’s blanket caressing her skin. Snuggling into its comfort she made her way down the alley. She came here, seeking perspective, rest before she faced the heat again. The live oaks were so old, they made her feel young and humbled. They’d seen slavery, war, hurricanes and pirates yet still stood strong with purpose and well-deserved pride.

  She willed herself to calm as she sat on the bench where the trees opened up to the Mississippi. The wild nature beneath the surface of still river, occasionally illustrated through a sharp splash, a guttural wail, was the perfect mirror of her emotions. The past few days had been frustrating as they’d continue to rely on Miss Suzette and the human staff to help out so that they could maintain their nocturnal pretence. The nights had taken on a hectic pace – dinner with their guests and Raulf followed by escorting them to the various vampire homes, businesses and hot spots. All free moments were given to ensuring that their business continued to run.

  Raulf – bless him – was of enormous assistance in managing their business during the day. In between running his pack, his own successful businesses and guarding them at night, Raulf assisted in resolving issues that had to be attended to during the day. He had become their knight in shining armor. You’d expect him to look ragged but he seemed to set tingles off in the same alarming way he had before and by the smirks he sent her way, he knew it! The guilt she felt at rejecting him was choking her. Fuck – why did he have to be such a gentleman? Well, she shrugged to herself, he was a complete asshole to Conall. It was extremely noticeable when he provided true Southern hospitality to the other two witches yet all Conall got were glares.

  An approaching heartbeat and the intoxicating smell of blood wafted towards her. Great – the hot witch was on his way. Anticipation for the oncoming man scuffled with chagrin at her interrupted solitude; anticipation triumphed. “I thought you’d gone to bed?” she enquired as he neared, hoping he’d skedaddle and take his tempting assets away from her.

  “Couldn’t sleep. A bit hot this evening.” Conall replied, dropping onto the bench.

  Anais could smell a lie as well just as she could blood. She didn’t doubt that he’d sought her out. “No hotter than any other since you’ve been here.”

  His lips curved – caught. “It certainly feels hot over here sitting next to you.”

  God, that was cheesy. Cheesy but cute, she gave a husky chuckle, wondering why it turned her insides to mush. “Nothing a jump in the river wouldn’t cure,” she retorted.

  “This river might like me, I don’t think I’d like it much.” Conall laughed a low, lyrical sound.

  “A big man like you scared of some teeny gators?”

  This was a different side to Anais – playful, teasing. Enjoying her chiding, he let the blow to his ego slide and allowed the banter to continue. “There are more inventive and pleasurable ways of putting out heat.” He had the satisfaction of seeing her surprise and intrigue; she hadn’t expected him to call her bluff.

  Conall picked up the scent of her desire, scooted over so that their thighs were flush, his arm pulling her closer. Gently taking her chin, he moved her face inches away from his. He caught a flash of red in her eyes before she willed it back to chocolate.

  “Don’t,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers, “when that happens, I feel sane.” At the unspoken question he leaned in closer, a breath away; “It lets me know that I’m not the only one wanting.” Entranced, he watched red flood her irises. “Red’s becoming my favorite color.”

  She recognized that she was hooked and gave in as his lips descended onto hers. Tentative, soft kisses gave way to the frustrated scorchers as they stroked and smoldered. She was completely captured in the moment, instinctively pulling him closer,
riding the fire as it consumed them. His shirt sleeve was ripped by vampire hands; she didn’t hear the material rip, their moans didn’t register; she only felt heat flooding her, sinking her inhibitions.

  Her fangs descended with the overwhelming need to taste his blood, nicking his tongue. Blood, magick and lust filled her mouth and she moaned, wanting more, needed to take him as he took her. She pushed him back onto the bench, her desire intensifying at the disheveled look of passion as he lay sprawled in front of her. Her skirt ripped as she climbed and clawed, straddled him and blazed when her core met his, searing through silk and cotton.

  Moving, she set a rhythm taunting him as soft breast brushed hard muscle, letting the center of their desires meet, only to move away again. Spurred on by moans and grinds, their hands found each other under their shirts, sending them spiraling towards the sweetly dangerous edge of madness.

  “You’ll be the death of me,” Conall ground out, teeth clenched as he struggled against the need to plunge into her; foreplay be damned. “Goddess, I haven’t wanted a woman before the way I want you. I’ve lived for centuries and yet you make me feel like a randy teenager, desperate to lose his virginity.”

  Anais’ lips curved in satisfaction, “It’s refreshing to find that we can still be surprised after centuries.” Smiling mouths met again and consumed with fervor.

  Abruptly, Anais was wrenched away from Conall and found herself fly before she hit ground, inches from the dark waters. A growl filled the air as Raulf, alpha wolf epitomized, leapt towards Conall, ready to shred his throat.

  “Raulf, no!” Anais shouted. Panicked, she rushed towards them. Conall may be powerful and the crème de le crème of magick but he was not physically matched to an angry werewolf.

  Before she could put herself between them, a blast of magick shot from Conall, suspending Raulf in mid-air. Just as a surprised Anais was going to ask Conall to put him down gently, Raulf emitted a blue hue and howled breaking Conall’s hold on him. Before she could respond, she witness wolf and witch battle over a vampire. Even her enhanced eyesight could not detect more than a flurry of fur, bolts of magick.

  Cursing, Anais looked at the crowd that had gathered. Everyone had come running to investigate the activity. “Don’t just stand there – do something. Use your magick,” she shouted at the other witches.

  “I’m on it,” Sylvain responded. “The best way to solve this is the old-fashioned way.” He conjured huge buckets of water and with a resounding splat, the wolf and witch were left to glare at each other, Anais having swiftly stepped between them.

  “You,” she pointed to a wet, naked Raulf, “and you” she turned to Conall wiping the smirk off his dripping face, “are fucking morons.”

  Anais was yelling, ignorant of the gaping stares from the crowd and sheepish looks from her suitors. She was furious! “I am not a toy that two little boys fight over on the playground. Grow the fuck up.” She turned and ran into the house, seeking solitude yet again.

  --------

  “You can’t pretend that it isn’t there, boo,” Miss Suzette interrupted her thoughts. She looked up, pushing away the irritation at being interrupted yet again. Miss Suzette came armed with comfort and love.

  “Huh?” Anais lifted her head from where she lay them on her arms and took the steaming mug of milk laced with honey. “Thank you,” she said gratefully, taking a sip and detecting some brandy in it.

  Miss Suzette entered the library, which doubled as Anais’ office, her feet thudding against the wooden floors. Plonking herself into the large leather sofa, she beckoned Anais to sit next to her.

  “Raulf went home,” Anais offered.

  “I know. He came to say his goodbyes. He’ll be back though – just needs some time to cool off.”

  “I asked him to go home,” Anais explained. “He’ll probably be back tomorrow – he basically lives here – but he’s not sleeping over anymore.”

  “Some space will do y’all good.”

  Anais nodded, “I know why he reacted that way so I accepted his apology but there’s just too much going on at the moment to worry about him having a witch take-out.” Anais searched Miss Suzette’s face and didn’t find any censure. “He’s still a moron, though. Understanding why doesn’t change that.”

  “That he is. People in love usually are.”

  Anais contemplated that observation. “Do you really think he’s in love with me?”

  “He thinks he is,” was Miss Suzette’s cryptic answer.

  Miss Suzette noticed Anais’ guilt. “No, boo, it’s nothing you did to him. You’re doing it to each other. I’ve been watching the natural lust grow between you two for some time now – it was only a question of when something would happen. I reckon y’all would be doin’ it to each other. And now there’s the complication added by your witch.”

  “He’s not my witch,” Anais responded.

  “No, not yet. But you wouldn’t mind if he was.”

  “I’m such a slut – at least mentally or hormonally.” Anais looked with such agony at Miss Suzette that she woman drew her close and patted her shoulder soothingly; much like a mother would an anxious child.

  “You’re not a slut. You’re a woman and any woman, hot or cold-blooded, would feel torn when two such fine men were wantin’ her.”

  “You think I should make a choice?” Anais questioned.

  “Yes, I do. But I’m not talking about Raulf or Conall. You choose either or neither.” Miss Suzette looked down at the woman, the vampire, she’d come to think of as hers. “You need to choose between existing and living.”

  At the silence Miss Suzette carried on, “Do you remember Nicholas?”

  “The architect?” Anais enquired, thinking back to the man that helped them refurbish the old slave quarters and the doctor’s house that was where Miss Suzette lived. Anais wondered where this was going?

  Miss Suzette nodded, “I kept it from all of you; it didn’t serve no purpose for y’all to know.” Miss Suzette’s expression was nostalgic, bitter-sweet. “He and I spent a lot of time together when he worked here. We fell in love. But, I had to choose – go with him, get married, have babies and swap the life I lived for a different one or stay here and live the life I was born to. I was lucky – both were good options.”

  “Now don’t get me wrong. I am happy in the life I have and was then too. Maybe I would’ve been happy with him – I don’t know that.” Miss Suzette shrugged, not illustrating any regrets and Anais relaxed again. “I loved him. Lord did I love him – still love the man he was. But, I loved y’all more. I loved – love,” she corrected, “this land, my family and I needed to, for me, to be able to practice my religion.”

  Anais understood, “It would have been difficult for you to practice voodoo and Catholicism together elsewhere the way you do here.”

  “That was one of the factors, yes.” Miss Suzette nodded. “Maybe, the love just wasn’t enough.” She shook her head as though to dust away the cobwebs of the past and looked down at Anais whose head now lay on her lap as she stroked her hair reassuringly. Miss Suzette secretly thought of Anais as her ‘vampireling’.

  “You’re at such a crossroads now, boo,” Miss Suzette’s voice was wise and gentle. “I’m happy with the decision that I made and making it allowed me to live the way I wanted to. So, I live, Anais but you exist.”

  “But I do have a good life – at least until recently,” Anais countered.

  Shaking her head, Miss Suzette drove on, “No, you exist now and you’ve always done so. Your sisters were right when they told you that you haven’t stopped in centuries. I haven’t known you that long and yet, in the decades I’ve been with you, I agree with them. You don’t experience the joy, the agony of life. You just get down and get through it.”

  Anais lay still, not liking what she was hearing but recognizing the truth in it. “How does that relate to Raulf and Conall though?”

  “Like my Nicholas, they’re the prod. They’re presentin’ you with th
e opportunity to make that choice. The choice to live or exist – to take risks with your heart, to experience things that go deep.”

  “When he left, did it hurt?” Anais’ voice was small and vulnerable.

  “Like hell. But I made the choice and I don’t regret it. I don’t regret him either. It’s all part of the colors of my life. Getting’ your heart broken and breaking a few is part of livin’. You didn’t care enough about the men you were with before and you didn’t have the chance to build the bonds you have now with family, so the emotional risk wasn’t as great as it is to you now.”

  “I get what you’re saying, Miss Suzette,” Anais responded wearily, “but I’m not yet sure what to do about it.”

  “Being open…” Miss Suzette began and was halted as Anais suddenly got up, alert.

  “Yves is coming. He’s entered the gates.” Anais quickly sent a mental siren to her sisters then got them all prepared to welcome him just as Claude’s knuckles rapped on the door.

  “Yves,” Anais went forward to greet him, not a sign of any of the earlier drama showing. “What a welcome surprise. Please come in.”

  Anais led them all into the formal drawing room and requested warmed blood for them all from Miss Suzette who smoothly slid into the role of subservient help.

  Yves sat down, dominating the atmosphere. The last time he’d been in this room, he’d been master of the house. Fortunately, that was over a century ago; as irritating as he was, they preferred to deal with his lackey.

  “I see that you’ve redecorated,” Yves waved an elegant hand at the room, the Vampire Council ring of membership, an exquisite creation of warm gold, black agate and ice-blue diamonds glinted from his finger – as though he were betrothed to the race.