Ophelia felt horrible. She scrubbed her hands over her face and let the hot water massage her back. At this rate, she’d need a stronger painkiller than her ibuprofen. Her head was pounding.
She closed her eyes and leaned her hair under the spray. Maybe her power needed some practical application time. She hadn’t explored her internal magick, but now seemed like the perfect time to see if she could have a heart-to-heart with her soul.
Raising her right hand, she pressed it to the cool tile to steady herself. Her pulse beat in her palm, thrumming in time with the pounding her temples. Bright white light filled her inner eye, blinding her in its intensity. Unintelligible words filled her aching head, as she drew extra energy from the water around her. Keeping her eyes closed, Ophelia sank to the bottom of the tub, still positioned under the spray. She crossed her legs and placed her hands on her knees.
Bright blue light filtered through her eyelids as she thought Jacqueline’s name over and over in her mind.
And then the light exploded, sending a shower of stars tumbling from the recesses of her mind.
When the stars cleared, a vision grew out of the faded light. It was blurry at first, but it soon cleared, and Ophelia found herself standing in a misty clearing, somewhere in the heart of the bayou.
In the middle of the clearing was a coffin. With a wry smile for her subconscious obsession with symbolism, Ophelia walked over and lifted the lid. There, her brown tresses fanned against a white satin pillow, laid the reason for Daniel’s most recent heartache, and the sole purpose for Ophelia’s chat with her own soul.
Jacqueline opened her eyes and smiled. “I wondered when you would come talk to me, Ophelia.”
Ophelia took a step back as the woman rose from the coffin and stepped out onto the damp ground. Odd happenings were nothing new, but she hadn't expected the world inside her soul to be a physical place—dreamlike, yes, unstable, too—but she hadn't expected it to be a place she could feel. The mist was cold, but the sun above was warm. The two didn’t mix, and the result was a hot chill that warmed her head, sending her thoughts swimming through a sickening fog.
Jacqueline let out a tinkling laugh that skittered ice up Ophelia’s spine. Ophelia wanted to pull out of the vision, but she wasn’t going to do that until she had the answers she’d come for. She squared her shoulders, shook her head clear, and faced the semi-translucent specter.
“Why do I have your soul?” She whispered.
With another melodious laugh, Jacqueline replied, “You do not have my soul, Ophelia. Your soul is your own. A part of you is mine, but it’s not that part.”
Ophelia looked at her with wide eyes, her trepidation replaced with curiosity. “What do you mean?”
Jacqueline shrugged. “I will spare you the ugly details, but I did not have my first child with Daniel. I birthed a daughter and passed her into the care of the good nuns at a New Orleans convent two years before Daniel and I married. You are a bright legacy from a very unhappy time, and the proof that my beautiful child lived on. You see me now because I had to see you. I had to know my Daniel would be happy.”
Jacqueline smiled kindly. “Now, ask me your other question, child.”
“Where did my power come from?”
“Ah, yes, that question. You have power because I passed it to my daughter with the hope that it would protect her. I see you now, and I know it did.” She reached out and grasped Ophelia’s hand in hers, the chill of death against her living warmth.
“Now, Ophelia, ask me your real question.”
Ophelia closed her eyes briefly to steady herself. “I know Daniel has feelings for me, but I don’t see how it can work. My heart is already his, but how do I know his is mine—and beyond that, how can he let himself love me with all that’s against us? Making love to him should never have happened,” she muttered, then shook her head, continuing, “I’m mortal. My life is finite, but his could have no end.”
Jacqueline laughed her cold, tinkling, laugh once more. “My dear Ophelia, allowing yourself to love Daniel, and him to love you, is not a mistake. Your life doesn’t have to end.”
Ophelia jerked her hand back. “That’s not possible,” she whispered. “I’m human. I have a hundred years, at most.” Her voice rose angrily. “I’ll be damned if I’m going to tap into some dark magick to extend it for a man.”
“You misunderstand me, Phia. You may not die, because you are not fully human.” Jacqueline sighed, sadness filling her eyes. “The man who spilled his seed inside of me was half-vampire. He was a strange man, full of power, and full of hate.
“He raped me as punishment for spurning him. He disappeared before my symptoms were confirmed, but he must have found out, because he sent his assassin after me years later. I was murdered, and Daniel was turned, all because I would not tell them what happened to my child.”
Ophelia raised her hand to her mouth in shock, tears filling her eyes. Her thoughts swirled, barely cohesive, save one thought. Bile rose in her throat, and apprehension churned in her gut. She lowered her hand.
“Who was the man, Jacqueline?”
The woman’s form began to waver, and Ophelia heard the faint sound of knocking in the distance. She fought to focus on her ancestor. The woman’s form grew fuzzy as she opened her mouth.
Ophelia heard one word before her body rocketed back to the present, under the cold spray of water from her shower:
“Jeremiah.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Daniel smashed in the door just as Ophelia’s eyes blinked open under the frigid water. He rushed to the side of the tub, turning off the tap as his knees bumped the side. He wrapped one arm around her shoulders, put the other under her knees, and lifted her from the bathtub.
Ophelia didn’t say a word, but she turned her face into his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck. Her body shook, so he took her straight to her bedroom and wrapped her in her blankets, trying to pay no attention to the fact that she was naked and wet.
Once she was covered, Daniel sat down on the bed next to her and put his arms back around her. He kissed the top of her head and waited until the shivering stopped. He looked down into her upturned face. Her eyes were still a bit glassy, but they were focused.
Daniel stroked a hand down her wet hair. “What happened, Phia?”
She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t want to tell you.”
Daniel sighed. He’d heard her speaking from the other side of the door, so he had a good idea why she didn’t want to say anything. “I saw the blue light, and I heard you talking. I’m guessing you had a vision. Did it have something to do with Jaqueline?”
Keeping her eyes closed, Ophelia nodded. “I don’t want to upset you.” She mumbled.
Surprised at her words, Daniel turned her in his arms so quickly she squeaked. Once they were face-to-face, he crushed his mouth to hers, giving her a taste of exactly what he thought about her statement.
Daniel broke the kiss and waited until she looked into his eyes. “Phia, she was my wife, almost three hundred years ago. Yes, I loved her. Yes, her death still haunts me. Yes, I feel guilty, but you are not her.” He kissed her gently and lowered his forehead to hers. “You make the pain go away.”
Ophelia pulled away, searching his face. “But you cried.”
He laughed weakly, kissing her again. “I wasn’t prepared to talk about her. Your request took me by surprise. You see, since meeting you, my heart doesn’t live in the past anymore.”
“What are you saying, Daniel?”
He pulled her more snugly against him, and smiled. “I’m saying that I’ve been falling for you since the night you didn’t give me your phone number.”
Ophelia closed her eyes again, frowning. She pulled the blanket tighter and mumbled, “I need to put on some clothes.”
Daniel let her go, his stomach flipping as he frowned. “Okay. Get dressed and I’ll see you back in the kitchen.” He kept his voice light, even though his heart was sinking through
the floor.
Daniel moved off the bed and left her alone. Sitting down at the table, he placed his head in his hands. He shouldn’t be surprised, he knew. She’d only just decided he wasn’t a horrible person, and there he’d gone, jumping the gun, all but telling her he loved her.
Jumping the gun, yeah, that’s rich. He rolled his eyes. Jumping her was more like it. In the closet, she’d clearly been telling him it wasn’t a good idea for them to have sex, and yet he didn’t stop. He rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes, despising himself.
Daniel shook his head, looking up as he heard her footsteps in the hallway. He’d have to figure something out. He offered her a smile, trying to calm the tension that filled the room at her entrance.
Ophelia didn’t smile back.
Daniel watched as she grabbed a Dr. Pepper and sat down across from him, refusing to meet his eyes. She took a sip, keeping her eyes downcast.
“You know my vision was about Jacqueline,” she said, her voice as flat as the surface of the table between them.
Daniel nodded, saying nothing. Ophelia sighed and focused on the window. “Once you hear what she told me, you’re not gonna want anything to do with me.”
Ah, now he understood. Daniel reached across the table and took her hands in his. He waited until she raised her eyes to his. “That could never happen, Phia.”
She pulled her hands away from his. “You’re going to change your mind after this.” She took a deep breath before plowing on. “Did you know Jacqueline had another daughter?”
Daniel sat back abruptly, knocking his chair back from the table. His shocked mind went into overdrive. Another daughter? How was that possible? Jaqueline hadn’t been with anyone but him! Unable to speak, he shook his head.
“She was raped. She delivered her baby two years before y’all were married. She had to keep it a secret, Daniel. From everyone, even you.”
“Jasmine wasn’t really looking for Liam that night, was she?”
“No, she wasn’t. She was on a mission to find the baby, but Jacqueline wouldn’t tell her anything.” Ophelia offered him a small smile. “Your wife was a very brave woman.”
Daniel smiled sadly. “Yes, she was. Did she say what happened to her daughter?”
Ophelia sat back in her chair, her hands playing with the Dr. Pepper can, spinning it around on the wooden surface. She lowered her eyes again. “She lived, married, and had children.” She took a sip of the soda, sat the can down, but continued to play with it, pushing it back and forth across the table in front of her with her fingertips. Ophelia took a ragged breath before continuing. “According to Jacqueline, her daughter was my great-grandmother, which is why I look like her. That’s why I have the power that I do. Jaqueline gave it up, and it passed down through her. Her daughter also gained power from her father.”
Daniel blinked and scratched the back of his neck. He didn’t understand what was wrong with power, and what she told him also solved the issue of why she looked so much like his wife. He shook his head. “That’s not bad, Phia.”
“That’s not all, Daniel,” she said, her voice sad, “the rest of what I know is going to change everything for you. Like it already has for me.”
He reached for her hand, but she kept out of his reach. “What is it?”
Ophelia sucked in another deep breath, and clenched her fingers together on the table. “I know the name of the man who raped her, the one who ultimately ordered her death, and he’s definitely still alive.”
Daniel’s blood ran cold. If the man was still alive, that meant he was supernatural in nature, and could be anywhere. “Who is he, Phia?”
“Jacqueline said he was a local man, a dhampir by the name of Jeremiah.”
Daniel pounded a fist on the table. “Jeremiah!” he ground out, the angry sound reverberating around the kitchen. “The same man you’ve been working for is the bastard that raped my wife and then sent that bitch to kill her?”
Without waiting for Ophelia to respond, Daniel shot to his feet, knocking his chair over in the process. Fury burned in his gut, rising up to strangle his senses in its hot grasp. He had to get out. He needed to think. Ophelia was the descendant of a monster, a rapist, and evil man who wasn’t fully a man at all. And he was killing innocent people now, just as he was three hundred years ago.
Daniel stared across the table at Ophelia, so beautiful even with the look of guilt on her face. But there was no way he could be with her now. If Jeremiah ever found out the truth about her...he shook his head. He couldn’t let that happen. The consequences didn’t bear thinking about. If he cared about her at all, he needed to leave immediately.
Without a word of explanation, Daniel left her sitting, stunned at the table as he strode out of the house and into the bright sunlight. His only clear thought was revenge. Jeremiah would pay. He would pay for everything. Daniel would have the dhampir’s head on a platter if it was the last thing he did.
Numb, Ophelia stood up and righted Daniel’s chair, staring at it for a full five minutes after it was upright. Part of her wished she’d kept her mouth shut, but having everything out in the open was for the best. No relationship could be founded on lies. She shook her head and yanked her focus from his empty chair. It was a pity there would be no relationship.
Ophelia ignored the tears that trailed down her face. Her mind was tired and overwhelmed, and damn it, she didn’t want to care anymore. First her best friend dropped a few major bombs – rogue werewolves, impossible pregnancies, and hybrid fiancés – then said friend’s family was kidnapped. In the process of looking for those family members, Ophelia was confronted by her long-lost mother, whom she had to kill, and then they found a mutilated body. Now this?
No. Ophelia threw up her hands and dashed the tears from her eyes. No. She was just done. Finished. She wouldn’t have anything to do with any of it anymore.
“Fuck it,” she muttered to herself, “I’m over it. I didn’t want to sign up for any of this crap, anyway.”
After locking her front door, she stalked down the hallway to her spare bedroom. She slung open her closet door, a muted snarl fleeing from her throat. Stomping her feet and gritting her teeth, she snatched the pillows from the floor and hauled them straight to her washing machine in the laundry nook down the hall.
Next, Ophelia swept into the bathroom and grabbed Daniel’s clothes from her hamper. Breathing through her mouth to keep from smelling his scent, she carted the clothes into the kitchen where she threw them into a floral-scented trash bag. She tied it shut and tossed it in front of her front door. Aden was on the short list of people she needed to call so that the bag and the clothes could be picked up and removed from her house.
Still breathing through her mouth, Ophelia marched back down her hallway to the laundry nook. She stripped out of her clothes and tossed them into the washing machine on top of the pillows. Once she started the washer, she headed to her bathroom and took a quick, lukewarm shower, erasing all traces of his scent from her body.
Her body, she lamented with an internal groan. God, she’d given him everything, and the minute her true past was revealed—a past she had no control over—he disappeared. Ophelia wrapped herself in a towel and brushed her teeth, rinsing twice with mouthwash to remove his taste. She raised her eyes to the mirror as she finished.
She hardly recognized herself. Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks pale, and her hair limp. Shaking her head, Ophelia went to her room, dried off, and just stared at her bed. She’d have to wash her blankets, too. Later. She couldn’t handle stripping them down right now. Her heart was too raw, and the washer was still going with the first load. Sighing, she threw on jeans and a t-shirt and returned to her kitchen.
She grabbed a rag and some all-purpose cleaner from beneath the sink. Ophelia crossed to her table and spritzed both it and the four chairs with the chemical. Once everything was wiped down, she placed the cleaner beneath the sink again and tossed the rag into her dirty laundry basket.
&n
bsp; Dusting her hands together, Ophelia grabbed her vacuum from the hall closet and vacuumed the carpet in every room Daniel had touched. Finally satisfied that she’d removed nearly all traces of him from her home, she switched the laundry over, grabbed her cell phone, and collapsed on her couch.
Deciding against a phone call, Ophelia sent Aden a text message asking him to come by as soon as he was able. She received an agreeable response a couple of minutes later. She rested her head on the back of her couch. The feeling of accomplishment she’d expected to have never came.
A rogue tear trickled from the corner of her eye as emptiness engulfed her heart. One minute Daniel told her he was falling for her, and then she ruined it. She ruined it right as she came to terms with her own truth: What he was didn’t matter to her anymore. It was already too late for her heart, because full, unapologetic love slapped her in the face the moment she saw him sleeping in her closet.
Staring at the ceiling, her mind would only play one sentence over and over until she wanted to scream.
Why do I have to ruin everything?
Chapter Twenty-Six
Myrick eyed T over the rim of a steaming mug of strong black coffee—one of his more trivial vices. “What news, T? Are the pawns in place?”
“Yes, sir. Your persuasion has been ordered, and S is ready to follow through, using Daniel as an excuse.”
“Good. I want it to happen tonight. Remind him that while he can do with Ophelia as he pleases, he cannot, under any circumstances, cause her death. I need her to breed for me.”
“Already done, sir. I expressed your wishes repeatedly when I spoke to S this morning. I also took the liberty of applying a timed sleep spell over their bodyguards. No one in their house will be awake to spot the trouble.”
Savage Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 2) Page 21
