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

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Savage Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 2) Page 25

by Alizabeth Lynn


  Jeremiah’s answering smile showed the sharp points of his fangs. He released her hand and motioned to Craven. “I expect you to keep a very close eye on Ms. Boudreaux. I will meet the two of you at the Barnwell Center at midnight tomorrow night. Either you hand me Daniel, or I’ll see to it that neither of you ever see another moonrise.”

  Jeremiah left them alone, and Craven kicked his feet up onto the table as he leaned back in his chair. “Betraying the man you love. Probably not the smartest idea.”

  Ophelia walked closer, pushing down on the back of his chair. Craven tumbled to the floor, cursing. “What the hell did you do that for?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “If you think for one minute that I would turn on Daniel, then you’re even more stupid than you look.”

  “Isn’t that what you just agreed to do?” he asked as he righted his chair, opting to lean against the wall this time. Ophelia turned away for a moment so he wouldn’t see her smile.

  “Actually, no. What I agreed to do was lead Jeremiah into a trap with a vampire and a sorcerer on my side. We take him out, get the information I need, and nobody's the wiser until they miss him at the next meeting.”

  “You do realize that’s probably not how it’s going to go down?”

  “And you know this for sure? Are you planning on snitching, or working with Jeremiah instead of us?”

  “No.”

  “Then where’s the problem?”

  Craven chuckled. “Fine. What do I need to do?”

  “You can start by keeping Daniel away from me tonight. I don’t want to see him until I can explain myself better.”

  “Or, you could just confess your love and move on.”

  Ophelia rolled her eyes. “What, do I have it tattooed on my forehead or something?”

  “Your aura changes color every time his name is mentioned. It goes from green to pink, a clear sign if you ask me.”

  Ophelia’s jaw dropped. “You can see my aura?”

  “Yeah,” Craven said, raking a hand through his shaggy red hair, “I inherited that talent from my mother.”

  Ophelia dropped down into the nearest chair. “What’s your mother’s name?”

  “Octavia Prentice. Why?”

  “Oh my God,” Ophelia breathed. “She didn’t just leave my father, she ran off to be with another man.”

  Craven moved forward, confusion on his face. “What are you talking about?”

  Ophelia raised wide eyes to his. “My mother. Your mother. The vampire Jeremiah set me up to kill.”

  Craven’s eyes darkened as he sank into the chair beside her. “So, I’m your half-brother.”

  Ophelia closed her eyes, her breath coming out in short gasps. She’d had a brother for years and didn’t know it. A tear escaped to trickle down her cheek, another nail her mother placed in the coffin, sealing in everything good Ophelia had ever tried to believe about the woman. She raised her head, her eyes landing on Craven, whose slack mouth and half-closed eyes reflected the same shock she was feeling. Still, she had to ask.

  “Did you know?”

  “That my mother was yours? No,” he said softly, shaking his head. “Granted, she didn’t exactly stick around to tell me about the rest of my family. She disappeared when I was eight.”

  Another tear fell to mingle on the table with the other. “Was she at least a good mom during that time?”

  Craven nodded. “She was. It was easy to see how much she loved me, but I didn’t understand why she left until after you killed her. And Jeremiah still didn’t tell me you and I were related.”

  “He probably thought you’d turn on him.”

  Craven reached over and swept another rogue tear from her face with the pad of his thumb. “Probably. Too bad I was never on his side to begin with.”

  Ophelia sniffled, her breath hitching on a chuckle. “Yeah. There is that.” She sighed. “What are we going to do, now?”

  “Try to move forward? You still have people you need to save, and now I have even more reason to work with the good guys. There’s no way around us being siblings.”

  “Or the fact that Jeremiah’s using both of us as pawns.”

  “We can’t let him get away with it. I’ve no love for the man. Let’s set that trap.”

  “Yes, let—wait. What does love – or the lack thereof – have to do with anything?”

  “Because,” Craven replied with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his mustache, “he’s my father.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “My father. He’s my father.”

  “Yes, I heard that, but I don’t understand. Octavia wouldn't have given up her magick—I don’t think she had that much, anyway—so, how did you inherit your other power? I know Myrick wouldn’t employ you if you couldn’t do more than see auras.”

  “As far as I know, with Jeremiah being a dhampir, my power must come from whoever his parents were, but how did you know he’s only a half vampire? That’s not something he randomly tells people, especially not people he doesn’t trust.”

  “He raped Daniel’s wife before they met, and I’m a descendant of her daughter. I’m related to Jeremiah, too,” Ophelia said quietly.

  Craven shuddered. “That’s beyond weird. Please tell me it’s less creepy, and you’re only a descendant on your dad’s side.”

  “I’m pretty sure. I did a genealogy project in elementary school, and most of Octavia’s family was from up north.”

  “Thank God for small favors. A few hundred years between them or not, if Octavia was his descendant and he slept with her...” He broke off and shuddered. “That’s disgusting. Anyway, what do we do now?”

  “I go back to my place and figure out how to broach this with Daniel, and you keep him out of my hair until I have a plan.”

  “He’s not going to let me.”

  “Then use your magick to tie him to a fucking chair. I don’t care how you do it, but keep him away for tonight. If I see him now, we’ll either fight or make love, and my heart can’t handle either.”

  Craven stood up. “Okay, I’m invoking my new Brother Status. Don’t mention you and sex. Ever. And I’ll try to do what you asked.”

  Ophelia laughed and rose to her feet as well. “Deal.”

  Ophelia had every intention of sitting at home, trying to figure out how to keep her heart uninvolved. However, when she showed up at her house, someone was already there, and she found herself back on the road to a new destination, instead of relaxing.

  Ophelia pulled up in front of Baby Steps and cast a wary look to her companion. “Are you sure you want to be out in the open like this, Carissa?”

  “I’m sure. I can’t be cooped up with the pack this whole pregnancy. I’ll lose my mind.”

  “Yes, but this place is well known—to you and to the people hunting for you.” Ophelia scratched the burn scars on her left arm. “I just don’t want to see you hurt. Your future is too important.”

  “Why do I get the feeling you know more than you’re telling me?”

  “Because I do. Now, let’s get inside so you can see your retail baby and feel better.”

  Carissa stepped out of Ophelia’s truck, but turned back before she shut the door. “You’ll tell me soon?”

  Ophelia sighed. “Yes. As a matter of fact, we’ll go back to your house in town, and while I help you pack, I’ll explain what I can.”

  “But not now?”

  “No, not now. It’s already night, and we know there are people in the dark that want us both dead.”

  Carissa frowned, but didn’t press. For that, Ophelia was grateful. This time had been coming for a while—ever since they discovered Gwen and Rafe missing. She’d been hoping to put it off a little longer, but between the discovery of Rafe’s body, her own near-death experience, and the information she’d learned tonight, her friend needed to know what they did. Should they be found, should the protection Ophelia cast over her friend fail, Carissa needed to be as prepared as possible.

  Pushing the thought to the back of
her mind, Ophelia plastered a smile on her face, and followed her friend into Baby Steps. Sadie stood beside a rack of baby clothes, talking to an obviously pregnant customer about due dates and morning sickness. Carissa chuckled, rubbing her belly. She leaned toward Ophelia.

  “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about the morning sickness. I hear it’s a pain.”

  Ophelia’s smile strained. “I wouldn’t know.” And she doubted she ever would. Daniel wasn’t exactly alive in the traditional sense of the word.

  Carissa slanted her a curious look. “I know your face like I know my own. What’s got you worried?”

  “Nothing.” She reached out to trail a finger down the sleeve of a buttery leather jacket. “Actually, there is something that’s been bothering me.”

  “What is it?”

  “Aden was a vampire before he was bit by the werewolf, and you got pregnant before then, too. How in the hell was that possible?”

  Carissa grinned. “Ah, I see. What you really want to know is if Daniel could get you pregnant.”

  Ophelia dropped her hand. “What? No! I’m just curious about you—about Aden. Stop looking at me like that!”

  Carissa clutched her sides, a great guffaw of laughter shaking her whole body. “Phia,” she snorted, “You should really see your face! You look like a rabbit come face-to-face with a wolf!”

  Ophelia picked up a small stuffed animal and tossed it at Carissa, hitting her on the side of her head. “Can it, you, or I’ll tell Aden all about the time you drank too much and decided streaking across the college campus was a good idea.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Oh, I absolutely would.”

  Carissa picked up the stuffed animal and tossed it back into the bin. “Consider it canned.”

  “Good.” Ophelia linked her arm through her friend’s. “Let’s go find Eleanor before we get into trouble.”

  Carissa laughed and patted her belly. “Yes, let’s. I think we both get into enough trouble on our own.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Myrick eyed T over the crystal ball between them. “Excuse me?”

  “Ophelia has agreed to bring the vampire to Jeremiah.”

  “He does realize it’s a trap, doesn’t he?”

  “I don’t believe he does, sir. He seems quite convinced that she’ll do what he wants. He’s sent Craven to guard her.”

  “Ah, yes, his son, my apprentice. How is young Craven these days?”

  “He’s doing well—following every order you command without complaint. He’ll know Carissa’s whereabouts by the end of the night.”

  “Perfect. Your ineptitude was becoming frustrating.”

  T’s dark eyes heated with the red glow of anger. “Sir, you of all people know the restrictions we are under. Whoever placed that spell to keep us from finding her knew more than the two of us combined. Unless you are willing to admit your fault in this plan, do not place the blame on me. You taught me well, remember?”

  “I did, which is why you’re still alive. Do not tempt my mercy, T. I don’t believe in forgiveness.”

  T’s anger boiled, but T remained restrained. “Yes, sir,” T ground out. “Do you need anything else?”

  “Let Jeremiah have his meeting with the sorceress, but keep an eye on them. I want him dead, but not yet. He may still be useful. Scare those little do-gooders, and then I think we need to move camp. I don’t want them finding me before I’ve had a chance to harvest my power.”

  T stood up and bowed, teeth still gritted, “As you wish, sir.”

  Alone in his study a short time later, Myrick gazed into the crystal ball. Black hair and green eyes stared back at him as they did so frequently of late. He couldn’t erase her memory, and although he knew the name of the town she lived in and the name of her business, he had no idea where to find her. Baby Steps was warded better than his own estate – something that both impressed and frustrated him greatly. He wondered if the years had been as kind to her as they had to him. Mist swirled within the globe, his magick fingers searching for any clue to her address, but there was nothing but black in the mist.

  Such was his desperation to find her, that he’d even attempted to look her up online and in the phonebook. He doubted that even the police could locate her, now, which meant that she or someone else must have cast a protection spell over her—much as the one that was blocking them from locating Carissa, even though they knew where she lived. None of his werewolves had seen her, and when Garrett was asked, he said he didn’t know where she was, either—something Myrick knew was a lie.

  The sorcerer stood up, his feet padding softly across the carpet. He had Gwen, and the power her child possessed would sustain him for a time, but for the spell to be complete, he needed children from them all, whether by natural or magickal means. Gwen and Rafe were the first, a happy accident of nature that swung Myrick’s plans into action. Now he only needed the spawn of eight more couples to complete his spell. Carissa and Aden would make perfect mates, but magick would surely need to be used to cause procreation. He already had a spell prepared.

  The spell would also be used on Daniel an Ophelia. He smiled at the thought of rounding them up together. He’d thrown everything he could at them, intentionally pairing them, playing up their emotions, for he knew of Ophelia’s connection to Daniel’s wife. The child he coerced the two of them into conceiving would have power the likes of which the world had never seen. Much like the missing Annixia and her fiancé, Talvin.

  Talvin was cunning, ruthless, and could command a sleep spell so powerful, he could knock out entire continents. Annixia, on the other hand, was so much more. Beautiful and talented, the sprite princess possessed the power of telekinesis. There was nothing too large or too small she could not move. Unfortunately, she was also quite skilled at hiding. If she never revealed herself, the curse he’d placed upon her would never be fulfilled, and it would never send the world into chaos like he planned. A disappointment to be sure.

  And then there were the twins. Oh, he’d had plans for them for a while. Duncan and Declan—the first a regret, the second a triumph. Both had naturally inherited power, and any children they spawned would carry that legacy, regardless of their mothers. Myrick needed only to see it through until it happened—a not-so-easy easy feat in the case of Duncan, who was currently imprisoned underground, in a place where no one could find him. Still, after he did, there were only three more children needed.

  Myrick came to a halt in front of a large picture window. He had his sights set on a tenacious fairy who’s power he’d already tasted ages before when he’d stripped the wings from her sister. Her first child was already in his possession, but as a man grown, did little to progress Myrick’s intentions, so, he too would be required to mate. And then there was only Myrick’s daughter—his most precious and valuable possession. Her talent rivaled his own, and her whelp would be more powerful, still. Myrick circled back to his crystal ball, the vision inside swirling to show the smallest children, ready for harvesting.

  Their powers would be his, and once finished, Myrick would be invincible.

  Eleanor pressed a gentle hand to Carissa’s slightly rounded belly. “Your baby is fine and strong, girl. You’ve nothing to worry about.”

  Carissa laughed. “Nana, that’s not what has me worried.” She gestured to the window, lowering her voice in case Ophelia was standing close to the office door. “The heaviness in the air isn’t natural, and we all know it. What do you know about it?”

  “Me? Nothing, dear.” But Carissa saw Eleanor’s eyes flicker with worry.

  “I know something’s not right. It’s not like you to not explain things to me.” Carissa gently placed her hand on the older woman’s arm. “You can tell me, you know. Neither me, nor Aden will let anything happen to you.”

  Eleanor smiled. “I know, child, but this isn’t for you to worry about, I promise. Everyone has skeletons in their closet, you know that.”

  “I do, but that doesn’t mean I stop
caring. You’ve been there for me when I had no one else, when my mother would rather bury her head in the sand and my father would rather kill people to get what he wanted.”

  “Speaking of Garrett, where is he?”

  “He went looking for Gwen,” Carissa said with a frown as she sat down on the couch. “He’s been in a tizzy ever since they brought back Rafe’s body. He said he felt powerless, and now that Janice is missing, too, he didn’t know what to do. We couldn’t stop him. He made Aden Pack Master, then left.”

  Carissa scratched the back of her neck—much like her fiancé did when he was nervous. Her father had been unstable for a while, but this was on a whole different level. According to the rest of the pack, he had never just disappeared. He was always in the thick of things, but no longer. She watched as Eleanor gained her feet and began pacing back and forth around the office.

  “I don’t think that’s all of it, Carissa. I have a bad feeling about your father.”

  “I know. I’ve been suspicious of his actions for a while, now. He went from hating Aden to wanting him to become Pack Master, almost overnight. And he brought it up before Gwen and Rafe ever went missing.”

  “You’re right. That is suspicious.”

  “What are we supposed to do about it, Nana?”

  Eleanor crouched down in front of her, placing a hand over the life within Carissa’s belly. “You don’t do anything, except listen. Go to Ophelia with an open heart. The things she has to tell you will not be easy, but they are necessary, and she needs her friends now more than ever.”

  Carissa searched the old woman’s eyes, but they were guarded and weary—tired of everything. “Okay, Nana. If that’s what you think is best. You just keep yourself safe, alright?”

  “I will, child. I love you.”

  Carissa leaned into to her grandmother’s hug. “I love you, too.”

  When Carissa stepped out of the office, her eyes were large and over bright. “Are you okay?” Ophelia asked, concern softening her voice.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, Phia. Just tired. Do you mind just dropping me off at the pack’s estate? We can talk tomorrow night, for sure.”

 

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