Savage Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 2)

by Alizabeth Lynn

  She closed her eyes and focused, but there was nothing but static in her mind. She cursed. It seemed the same sorcerer that concocted the drug she’d been given had also blocked the power of her wolf. No matter, she vowed as she watched the sun set beyond the trees, lighting the foliage in all its burning glory, for my child, I won’t give up. They can’t keep me in here forever. I will find a way out, and God have mercy on my father when I do.

  Ophelia cursed as the stack of paperwork she’d just been sorting fell, leaves of paper dead on the office floor. Two nights. It had been two nights since the last time she spoke to Janice, and the helplessness of her position weighed heavy on her heart. They hadn’t been at odds like this since she was a teenager. She knew her aunt was right, but she also knew there was nothing she could do. She had information Jeremiah wanted, and she’d have to give it up sooner or later.

  Unfortunately, it was Ophelia’s desire not to choose sides that put her in this position to begin with. Her mind flashed back to the day that started everything, over a month before, but she squashed the memory like a bug before it could take root. She didn’t want to think about the reason for her choices, the things that she’d seen—not now, not ever. So, it looked like she'd be adding her talents to the were- side of things, and working alongside a vampire, to boot.

  Well, until she threw everyone under the bus, but that was a different story altogether.

  Ophelia cursed again as she shifted the last of the papers into their folders. Working with Jeremiah went against everything she was, everything she believed in, but she had no choice. She slid the papers into their proper slot in the file cabinet, and looked through the tiny office window at the growing darkness. Daniel. She was supposed to be working with Daniel, but Lord help her, she didn’t want to. He’d just be one more casualty on her way to betraying everything she’d ever stood for. It was much better to try and do things on her own.

  Ophelia told herself she didn't want anything to do with the man. She swore she wanted him out of her mind completely. She hadn't met him yet, but if he was like most vampires, he was probably a self-absorbed cockwomble. She couldn't stand men like that—even when the alternative was going against the evilest being she’d ever had the misfortune to meet…alone. She shook her head. Sure, her heart bled for the way Daniel lost his family, but she didn't give two shakes about his quest for revenge. It had nothing to do with her. Absolutely nothing. She had plenty of her own troubles, and didn’t need to add his to them.

  Ophelia shook her head again. Now she was being a bitch, but, hell, all she wanted was to have her mind to herself again. She wanted her dreams free from his memories. If they were his memories...

  Now where did that thought come from? Of course, they were his memories. Maybe, said the nagging little voice in the back of her mind, but you don't always have the dream from his perspective, do you? And Jeremiah is a liar, too. Aren’t all vampires?

  "Shut up.” She muttered to herself, slamming the last of the day's files into the cabinet with more force than necessary. Maybe the dreams weren't always from his point of view, and maybe Jeremiah was an evil bastard who wouldn’t know the truth if it danced naked in front of him wearing the blood of his enemies, but she'd had a few that left her seriously doubting the story her friends believed. She'd experienced more than one dream where she saw Daniel covered in blood standing over a dead body—and none of them were his family.

  If nothing else, that was reason enough to want to stay away from him, between that and her orders from Jeremiah. She shook her head. Whatever the reason, it was best to avoid Daniel at all costs.

  Annoyance speared her brain—why couldn’t things be easy for once? Grabbing her purse as she left the office, Ophelia locked the main doors to Baby Steps and headed toward her truck. But as she rounded the corner, she jerked to a stop, nearly dropping her purse as it slid from her shoulder. The man standing alongside the building was the same one she wanted to get out of her head—the same one she had the most reason to avoid.

  “Damn it,” Ophelia muttered, rolling her eyes. Couldn't he have picked a more remote place to loiter, like maybe Antarctica? Now she had no choice but to talk to him.

  He closed the distance between them, holding out his hand as he stopped, a lopsided grin on his face. "I'm Daniel, and it's my dreams you've been invading."

  Ophelia took a step back, leaving her hands at her sides. "Invading? Look, jerk, I didn't invade anything.”

  “So, what would you call it when someone you don’t know suddenly appears in your dreams, and you know, somehow, that the person is flesh-and-blood?”

  Ophelia raised an eyebrow and smiled sweetly. “I imagine the psych ward would call it ‘mentally unstable.’”

  Daniel dropped his hand. “They told me you might be difficult, but I thought you would care a bit more about your friends.”

  “That’s the thing, though. I care a great deal about my friends, but you aren’t one of them.”

  “Yet.”

  “Ever.”

  “You promised Carissa and Aden you would work with me.” He sighed, and took a small step backward. “Did you lie, or what?”

  Uneasy, Ophelia crossed her arms over her chest. “Yes, I lied. Happy? I have my reasons, which I don’t need to explain to you.”

  “Maybe not.” He tilted his head to the side, his bright blue eyes studying her face. “Then again, maybe I already know.”

  Ophelia jerked before she could stop herself. “You don’t know anything,” she hissed.

  “Are you so sure?” he asked, softly.

  She shook her head. He was just trying to psych her out, attempting to get under her skin so she would give him what he wanted. She forced herself to meet his gaze. “Fine, you want a reason? Here: I never asked to see into your twisted little mind. I don't care who you killed, or why. All I know is I don't want anything to do with you."

  Daniel took another step back, eyes wide. "Kill? I didn't—"

  "Spare me your lies.” Ophelia scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Look, I'm really busy right now. You know, not hunting other humans for my dinner.” She shook her head again, and reached into her purse, pulling out a small notepad and a pen.

  She scribbled something on the top piece of paper, tore it off, and folded it in half. "I'll tell you what," she handed the paper to Daniel, whose eyes were still wide and shocked, "call me when I haven’t had such a bad day, and maybe we can discuss this."

  Ophelia was already opening the door to her truck when Daniel found his voice. "When?” He called after her.

  With a laugh, Ophelia said, "I wrote that down for you.” She closed the door, started her truck, and pulled out of her parking spot, keeping one eye on the rear-view mirror. She watched with a smile as he unfolded the paper, his face going from interest, to shock, to curses she could almost hear. She’d answered his question, all right. He’d asked her when to call, and anticipating the query, she’d written one word on the paper: Never.

  Chapter Seven

  Daniel gaped at the paper, mouth wide. With a muttered curse, he shook his head. She isn’t really that stupid, is she? He crumpled the note and tossed it into a nearby trashcan, making his decision before he could change his mind. Pulling his cell from his pocket, he punched in a number he’d almost gotten rid of months before.

  “Okay,” he grumbled. “I’m in. Give me everything you know.”

  The voice on the other end chuckled, the sound low and cold. “I thought you said you’d never ask me for any more favors?”

  Daniel’s teeth ground so hard he could hear them rubbing together. “Desperate times, C. Are you gonna help me or not?”

  “That depends.” The voice turned sly. “You know my price.”

  Daniel bit back a curse. He knew it, all right. “Fine, but I want what you have before midnight tomorrow.”

  Another chuckle crackled over the line. “Deal. Nice doin’ business with you again, Daniel.”

  “Yeah–” Daniel muttered as the c
onnection closed– “real nice.”

  Ophelia pulled her truck into her driveway and slammed it into park. “You should be ashamed of yourself,” she admonished her reflection in the rearview.

  She could have handled him better, but no, she had to be rude. Now, it was almost a given that he would be suspicious. Cursing under her breath, she pulled out her cell phone and opened her email. A few taps on the screen, and she accessed the folder she was looking for. In it was a compilation of the known rebel forces, listed by species, and then by name. She hadn’t looked at the file since he sent it to her, but after meeting Daniel, she knew she needed to.

  There were three Daniel’s listed, one werewolf, and two vampires, but the accompanying pictures did nothing to sate her curiosity—they weren’t the man she just met. She backed out of her email, and bit her lip. That meant one of two things: The Vampire Council didn’t know he was involved, or he was as deep into the guano as she was. Ophelia narrowed her eyes at her phone. She wanted to believe the first, but was forced to admit the latter option was probably closer to the truth.

  Sighing in frustration, Ophelia unfastened her belt and leaned her forehead on the steering wheel. She was being stupid about everything, but knowing that didn’t help. There was too much going on—too many secrets in the way of doing what needed to be done. Her aunt was right about that much. But what about the rest of it? How can working with a vampire, a man I don’t know or trust, be the right thing to do? She was already making enough mistakes. He had secrets of his own, she was sure of it, and until she knew what they were, she’d just have to be stupid. How much can avoiding him hurt, really?

  Brilliant blue eyes and rippling muscles flashed in her mind, and Ophelia sighed. In her dreams, he was mesmerizing, but out of them…he was quite possibly the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on. And he seemed so damn innocent and hurt when she accused him of murder. What if I was wrong? She shook her head as her phone chimed. Another text from him.

  Your directions have changed. Discover their plans and report at the next meeting. Do not fail.

  “Well, fuck.” The phone bounced off the passenger seat and clattered to the floorboard. “That puts the cap on a fantastic day,” Ophelia muttered, slamming her hands against the steering wheel.

  First, she was told not to interfere, and now he wanted her to. Of course, for Carissa’s sake, she’d planned to, anyway. Just…not doing it on his orders. She cursed again. Talk about putting another notch in her stupid-post.

  “I should just get it tattooed on my damn forehead,” she grumbled. “Ophelia Boudreaux: Idiot with the wrong priorities.”

  Cursing under her breath for the umpteenth time, she rolled her eyes and cut the engine. Opening the door, she stuck her legs out as she stretched across the center console and retrieved her phone from the floorboard. Another stupid move, throwing the damn thing. Huffing, she stuffed it into her purse and hopped out of her truck, only to collide solidly with Daniel’s chest. His very hard chest.

  "Son of a bitch!” she yelped, jumping backward, slamming her elbow into the edge of her door. Eyes watering, she glared at him. "Can vampires teleport? Wait…don't answer that; I'd rather not know."

  Fuming, she slammed the door, and walked around him. "I don't care how you found me, but I want you to leave.”

  Ophelia walked up the steps to her front porch, fighting the urge to look back when her motion sensor light turned on. Damn it. She could feel his gaze, almost as if he was touch—"Aarrg!” she yelled, when he did, indeed, touch her on her shoulder.

  Ophelia spun around, feinting a slap, and when he reached up to block her, she crouched and lashed out with one of her legs. She swept his feet out from under him, rising gracefully to her own as he tumbled off the porch. His thud and subsequent grunt of pain brought a smile to her face.

  The shock in his eyes was priceless. Ophelia dusted her hands together and smiled wider. "Just be glad I didn't use my magick."

  Daniel glared at Ophelia’s retreating backside. He tasted blood. He’d bit his tongue on impact, and damn it, his ass hurt from landing on her concrete walkway. But...he tilted his head to the side, eyes swaying in time with her hips as she walked through her front door. He had one hell of a view.

  And the front wasn’t half bad, either.

  Daniel levered himself into a sitting position as the lock snicked shut. He hadn’t paid enough attention when he saw her outside Baby Steps, and her presence in his dreams had never been clear enough to see her face. Just now, when he’d seen her spectacular eyes flash up close, her plump ruby lips smiling as she made him fall. The shock he experienced was a punched to the stomach. Her face was one he thought never to see again, and that shock was the only thing that kept him from gaining his feet.

  His eyes remained focused on her door, although the dark brown wood wasn’t what he saw. His memory possessed a fragile sweetness, whereas the woman who just knocked him on his backside was anything but. Ophelia’s hair was longer, red instead of brown, and much curlier. Her enchanting hazel eyes superimposed themselves over the sky blue he remembered so fondly—their almond shape full of fun and mischief whether she wanted to admit it or not. However, the full pouty lips, high cheekbones, and curvy shape of her body were so close it was uncanny.

  “Jacqueline,” he whispered reverently.

  Daniel’s heart cracked a little at the thought of her, but he shook his head and finally regained his feet. The information he received from his source would be secondary in the light of this new development. Traitor or not, his heart needed to know more about Ophelia, and the pesky organ wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Feeling as though she might steal his life along with his dignity this time, he climbed the steps and rapped smartly on the door. A moment later, her shadow filled the small window, and he listened to her sigh before she opened the door. Toned arms crossed a remarkable chest as she leaned her back against the doorframe.

  Eyes narrowed, Ophelia pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow. “What do you want?”

  Daniel mimicked her stance without leaning. “To talk about Gwen’s disappearance. Carissa said you promised to help.”

  “I did promise. However, upon further reflection, I thought it to be in both of our best interests if I broke said promise. My morals never agreed to work with someone who finds pleasure in using other people for food.”

  Daniel laughed derisively. Your morals? The very thought was amusing, but he left it alone. For the moment. “I’m a vampire, Ophelia. What did you expect when they told you what I was? We drink blood, and yeah, we can survive by drinking from animals, but eventually we would become so weak we’d be easily picked off by our enemies. I’m not a bad person,” he said quietly, “I can no more change what I am than you can change the reasons for the choices you make.”

  Ophelia cursed quietly, and Daniel sucked in a tense breath. He could see the war in her eyes—her conscience battling whatever it was she was hiding. If she wouldn’t talk to him, he’d be back at square one, at least until his informant got back to him. Eyes still narrowed, Ophelia all but bared her teeth in a snarl as she turned and gestured him toward the door. He let out the breath he was holding. She might not be happy, but it was a step in the right direction.

  He skirted her, carefully edging around her outstretched arm so that they didn’t touch. He wasn’t oblivious to her frustration. It was obvious she didn’t want him there, but her feelings for her friend were stronger than her dislike of him. He stole a backward glance at the face that had haunted his dreams for three hundred years. Jaqueline. If he didn’t play his cards right, not only would it hinder their quest to find Carissa’s sister, but he’d never know why this woman held such a strong physical resemblance to the woman who’d stolen his heart three centuries before.

  Ophelia shut the door quietly, and led Daniel into the kitchen. As he sat down, she walked to her refrigerator, pulling open the door as she said, "Normally I would offer you a drink, but I think that phrase might h
ave a different meaning for you than it does for me."

  "Trust and believe, I would never dream of thinking you were offering yourself."

  Ophelia grabbed a soda and turned around. "Well, since we understand each other now...”

  He cleared his throat and scratched his chin. "I don’t think I’d understand you even if you came with a manual,” he muttered, and to his surprise, she laughed.

  His jaw dropped. This was no lighthearted titter, but a full-blown belly laugh that went all the way to her eyes. His heart tripped. When her face lit up like that, she didn’t look as much like his Jaqueline after all. From the shape and color of her eyes, to the contour of her cheekbones, when she laughed – when she lost the dark seriousness in her gaze – she was far more beautiful, and he couldn't help but stare.

  She must have seen the look on his face, because she sobered abruptly, angrily yanking out a chair from the table. She sat down and huffed out a breath. “Amusing, Daniel, but really, why are you here?”

  He folded his hands together on top of the table. “I have more news, if you'd care to discuss it."

  Raising an eyebrow, Ophelia popped the tab on her Dr Pepper. She gestured impatiently for him to continue.

  Daniel rolled his eyes. Trust was in short supply, and he couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t trust him in her position, either. Then again, he didn’t fully trust her, so that made them even. Still…she’d made a promise, and he needed to do something to get her to fulfill it. If she didn’t, all his plans would fall apart, too.

  Ophelia was the key.

  Clearing his throat, he looked up at her. “I have reason to believe the Vampire Council isn’t the driving force behind this war. There are no battles, no major instances of bloodshed. Just a few well-placed killings and kidnappings. I hear they’ve got a sorcerer pulling the strings.”

  Something flickered in Ophelia’s hazel eyes, and Daniel took an uneasy breath. “You already knew.”