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

by Alizabeth Lynn

  No one spoke as they pulled out of the driveway, but the sense of foreboding grew darker and stronger with every rotation of the wheels. Ophelia stared out at the night-kissed trees, and wondered if she should have taken Carissa’s advice after all.

  Half an hour later, Daniel pulled the truck to a stop at the end of the gravel road leading to Guy’s swamp shack. He turned in his seat, looking at Aden.

  “I think we should split up. You and Craven stay here. Out of the four of us, if anyone is setting a trap, y’all are more valuable than we are.”

  Craven raised an eyebrow, frowning at Ophelia. “I would have to disagree. However, if anyone but you two show up and it is a trap, they might kill first and ask questions later.”

  Aden nodded. “I don’t like it, but it seems the most sensible option. Let me see if I can speak to the animals, maybe gather some information so they don’t head in blind.”

  Daniel blinked. “Since when could you do that?”

  “Since I was changed, I guess.” Aden shrugged. “It’s not like I follow the typical rules.”

  Ophelia laughed lightly, her voice shaking a bit. “He has a point.”

  They all got out of the truck, and Aden spread his arms. The air swirled around them, kicking up leaves a dirt, but nothing else happened. Aden dropped his arms as the wind died, his eyes wide with worry as his gaze met Daniel’s.

  “I don’t understand. The bayou is savage, filled with alligators, venomous snakes, and too many birds to mention, yet there aren’t any here,” he said with a shake of his head.

  Daniel moved next to Ophelia, taking her hand in his. “I guess this means we are walking into a trap, but we have to know what this is about. We have no other choice.”

  Ophelia gazed into the darkness leading toward the shack. “The plan stands,” she whispered.

  Worry churning in his gut, Daniel took Ophelia by the hand, and they left Craven and Aden standing by the truck. The absence of animals and insects made the bayou haunting and silent, and it put them on edge. Ophelia squeezed his fingers gently. He looked down at their joined hands and noticed that she pressed her other hand to the side of her stomach. Daniel wanted to ask if she felt okay, but when he opened his mouth, he saw her face and the resolve in her eyes, so he said nothing and silently prayed they would be safe.

  Keeping their steps slow and steady across the muddy ground, they proceeded with caution. The wind whispered wicked breath through the trees, speaking of unusual darkness, and they quickened their steps. Daniel locked eyes with Ophelia long enough for her to shake her head. The whispering wind was not her doing.

  They stepped into the small clearing by the water and immediately knew something was wrong. The abandoned house sat off-kilter, seeming to lean on the nearby trees. The glass was dark and slightly foggy. His hand shaking, Daniel pointed the beam of a small flashlight at the door, the artificial glow illuminating splatters of blood on the aged wood.

  “No!” Ophelia shouted, abandoning safety and running up onto the ramshackle porch.

  Daniel cursed. His gut twisted as he tried to follow her, only to find out that he was incapable of moving. His feet magickally planted on the ground, he watched as Ophelia reached out and pushed open the door. His gaze hyper aware of every part of her body, it seemed as if all of her movements were in super slow motion—something that had to be another trick to go with the spell that rendered his legs motionless. He cursed under his breath.

  A swarm of black flies engulfed her, while the smell of death wafted from the cabin. Daniel gagged, his eyes watering at the stench. Whatever was inside had been dead for a while. He heard Ophelia’s muffled whisper, “Aunt Jan,” and then she cried out, her tone changing from sadness to fear in less than a second. There was a loud thud, and then nothing.

  Fear tearing at his throat, Daniel pushed out with what power he had, breaking the hold the other spell had over him. He rushed up to the porch, dispelling the flies as he ran onto the platform. He stopped beside Ophelia’s prone form. Blood trickled from a wound near her temple.

  He realized too late that his actions were exactly what was expected. Jeremiah, immortal dhampir and resident asshole signaled to his underling, Gavin. The younger vampire advanced on Daniel, a club held high. Daniel retreated until his back pressed against the wall of the shack.

  He cursed under his breath. His power was so rusty, he didn’t have any extra energy after breaking the spell that had held him still, and no amount of concentration was changing that. Wracking his brain for answers, Daniel's jaw dropped when the reason for everything walked through the door of the cabin.

  The man was tall, maybe only an inch shorter than Daniel was, with short, spiky, salt and pepper hair and a muscular build. He wore black, from the tip of his high boots, to the slightly medieval cloak fastened over his shoulders. The newcomer smiled, his violet eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

  “I am Myrick, and I wondered when I would be meeting you in person, Daniel. Jeremiah has been looking for you for some time, now.”

  Daniel raised an eyebrow, his expression nonchalant. “And you’re the sorcerer who’s been giving us shit. I must admit, I thought you’d be taller.”

  Myrick smiled and snapped his fingers. An invisible vice pinned Daniel’s arms to the sides of his body, rendering him motionless. He cursed under his breath, unable to move a muscle to defend himself or the woman he loved. This wasn’t good. The sorcerer motioned for Gavin to let him pass, and the vampire moved out of the way.

  Myrick stepped in front of Daniel. “I could kill you now, you know, but we have plans for you,” he kicked Ophelia’s leg, “and your little girlfriend, too. However, I might persuade Jeremiah to let Gavin have a little fun with her, first.”

  At Daniel’s low growl, Myrick smiled. “Unless, of course, you would be willing to tell us where the rest of your little rebel group has been hiding.”

  “Go to hell,” Daniel spat, “I’m not going to tell you shit.”

  “I thought that might be the case.” Myrick turned to Gavin. “Knock him out, and you can take the girl.”

  Gavin advanced, and with one swing, Daniel saw nothing but star-splashed darkness.

  Jeremiah’s smile was wicked when he looked up at Myrick from where he crouched next to Ophelia’s prone body. “Will they still work for you?”

  Myrick surveyed the bodies on the ground. He toed the side of Daniel's head with his boot. “If you can convince them to mate, they will work nicely. If not, well, we only need the woman.” The sorcerer gestured toward the door. “Leave this mess. I know they did not come alone, and I think it’s time for the body to be discovered. Maybe then they will think twice about continuing to run.”

  Jeremiah frowned as he stood. “If they didn’t come alone, why aren’t we going after their companions?”

  “Do you question my authority, peon?” Myrick’s smile dripped with menace, his cerulean eyes glowing with inner madness and much power.

  The dhampir shook. “No! Absolutely not. I was merely wondering.”

  Myrick snapped his fingers, sealing Jeremiah’s lips shut. “Well, don’t.”

  With a swish of his cloak, Myrick stepped off the porch and into the night. With every step he took away from the building, the night lightened, drawing animals from their hiding places. The sorcerer laughed, the sound echoing through the trees. The bayou was a savage place, indeed, and the man who walked inside it, personified the violence.

  Evil was alive in the Crimson Bayou, and Myrick was its name.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Aden eyed Craven. “They’ve been gone too long. Something isn’t right.”

  “I agree. And look,” he pointed toward the trees where a deer cautiously poked its head out, “the animals are back.”

  Aden checked his watch. “It’s still a few hours until sunup. You don’t think…?”

  Craven nodded. “Jeremiah and Myrick.”

  Without another word, the pair took off running. The stench of death me
t Aden halfway up the dirt road, and he sped up to reach the shack minutes before Craven. Knowing it was safer to wait for the other man, but not wanting to leave his grandfather and Ophelia to their fate, he pushed open the door and nearly lost the contents of his stomach.

  The room was empty save a badly bloated body in the middle of the floor. Craven came crashing through the door behind him, the beam of his flashlight swinging wildly over the room.

  “You moron! You should have wait—oh dear God. Janice.”

  Aden turned to look at his companion. Craven clutched his stomach, his cheeks slightly green as he stared down at the dead woman on the floor. “You can tell who this is?”

  Craven nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. “See the tattoo? Flower, above her heart. Says ‘Ophelia’ under it.”

  Aden stepped closer to the body, and his heart sank when he saw that Craven was right. “Okay,” he muttered, taking the other man by the arm and leading him back onto the porch into the relatively clean night air. “Damn it,” he swore, “I know what they found in the tomb, but I was still hoping we’d find her alive.”

  Craven sat down on the edge of the porch. “I’m beginning to think everything we do is going to end with death.”

  “It won’t. We have too many people on our side for us to fail. What we need to do is stop underestimating our enemy. We’ve been one step behind this entire time, and we need to fix that. The next time we execute a plan, it needs to be fully thought out, unlike just about everything else we’ve done so far. We wanted so badly to find Gwen and Rafe, and then Janice, that we didn’t take the time to fully plan anything. I have an entire fucking werewolf pack at my disposal, but have we used them? No. We’ve been stupid, and I’ll be damned if I’ll let that continue.”

  Craven stood up and scrubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right, and now we have two others missing. With Myrick on their side, there’s no way we’ll catch up, even if we can figure out which way they’ve gone.”

  “Exactly. How the hell did they get out of here and past us, anyway?”

  “There’s another road leading back toward town. It’s mostly hidden by trees. You wouldn’t know it unless you were looking for it. I saw it on my way up.”

  “Then let’s get back to the estate and figure out where to go from there. I’ll send some of my wolves back here to retrieve Janice’s body while we figure out the best course of action. I want them back, and I want them back alive.”

  Craven nodded. “Me, too.”

  They arrived back at the estate, but there was no one outside. They walked inside, and Craven ran into Aden’s back when the man came to a sudden stop just inside the door. Daniel and Ophelia, the latter a little bruised and bloody, were sitting on the couch surrounded by the rest of their group. Aden dropped Ophelia’s truck keys from limp fingers.

  “How in the hell?”

  Daniel chuckled, “We were just getting to that part.”

  Craven rushed over to crouch in front of the pair. He studied the scratches and bruises on Ophelia’s face, “How the hell did y’all get away?”

  At his question, Daniel smiled and wrapped his arm around Ophelia’s shoulders, “It’s really thanks to Phia that we’re back. Myrick wasn’t there to stop her, and she executed a nifty piece of magick that rendered Jeremiah’s car inoperable. We broke down just past Jaune, right over the Arkansas border.

  “They had me tied up in the trunk, and Ophelia tied up and blindfolded in the back seat. We expected Myrick to cast a spell protecting the car, but I guess he didn’t. We were cruising along, and I’d almost managed to untie the ropes on my wrists, when there was a loud clanging sound, and the car just stopped.”

  Daniel grinned and squeezed Ophelia tighter as she blushed, “I heard Gavin cursing, and Jeremiah called him a fool, and then Gavin pulled me out of the trunk. I’d finally managed to loosen the rope, but I forgot about what I was doing when I looked down and saw the road. The ground behind the car was littered with bits of metal, engine parts, and an assortment of busted nuts and bolts.

  “I turned toward my lovely Phia—I had no idea what to expect—but it wasn’t the vision of her standing against a tree with the biggest, most radiant smile on her face.” Daniel stopped and looked into Ophelia’s eyes, “I’ll never forget what happened next: She looked at Jeremiah, and said to him, ‘It looks like you’re having a little bit of engine trouble, doesn’t it?’”

  Craven laughed, “I think I’m glad she’s my sister and not my enemy.” He turned to Ophelia, “I’m curious about something, though. Myrick isn’t known for overlooking spell work. Was there really no spell, or were you powerful enough on your own to circumvent it?”

  Ophelia’s eyes sparkled with mischief and she grinned, “Myrick’s spell covered the transmission, and tires, but not the engine, itself. I just amped up the heat until parts of it melted off and fell all over the highway. Jeremiah still thinks the car had preexisting issues. It never crossed either of their minds that it could have been me, so they have no idea what I did. As far as they know, I was unconscious until right before it happened, when, in truth, I was awake from the moment they slammed Daniel in the trunk.”

  Melina stepped forward, her eyes clouded with confusion. “How did the two of you walk away with your lives? Those two kill first and ask questions later.”

  Daniel shook his head, “I honestly don’t know. One minute we were all alone on the side of the road, and the next thing we knew, Jeremiah and Gavin were chased off by a herd of furious deer.” He smiled. “Apparently, woodland creatures don’t like vampires any more than they like hunters.”

  Ophelia nodded. “Then we flagged down a passing car and came back here. I think we’ve had more than enough adventure for one day.” She stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shower and take time to process.” She took a deep breath, the air in the room suddenly heavy. “My aunt was in the shack, and she didn’t make it.”

  Ophelia walked out, Carissa on her heels, and Aden faced the rest of the group. “Craven and I confirmed that Janice’s body was in the shack. I’m going to gather some of my wolves, and we’re going to go back and retrieve her body. Myrick shouldn’t know what’s going on with Jeremiah yet, so if we leave now, we shouldn’t have any trouble.”

  Daniel placed his hand on his grandson’s shoulder. “I’m going with you.”

  Aden inclined his head. “Alright. And we’ll bring her back here for burial preparation. I’ll call Sheriff Talbot and we’ll get the loose ends tied up. There won’t be any questions.”

  Ophelia didn’t turn around when she heard Carissa follow her into the bathroom. She turned on the shower and stripped out of her dirty clothes. Bone tired from her mind to her body, neither woman spoke until she stood beneath the hot spray.

  “I’m okay, Carissa, really. Jeremiah’s crony hit me on the side of the head, but he didn’t do any serious damage.”

  “Are you sure? We have a doctor on the estate. I can have him come look at you.”

  Ophelia worked shampoo through her long hair, the red, twisted ropes reminding her of the blood at the shack. She closed her eyes. “My body’s fine. I’m sure of it.” She sighed. “But I don’t think my heart can take anymore. I wanted to find her. I wanted to know, but I was still hoping that we wouldn’t find her that way. She didn’t do anything to anybody, and she’s dead! It’s my fault,” Ophelia ended on a whisper.

  Carissa stepped closer, the toilet lid clanking as she sat down. “No, sweetie, it’s not. It’s Jeremiah’s fault. Myrick’s fault. You didn’t cause this. A couple of murderous assholes did. It was never you.”

  Ophelia sighed as she finished rinsing the shampoo and switched to conditioner. “My heart knows you’re right, but my head feels so damn guilty. What if she blamed me?”

  “She wouldn’t have. She loved you. Phia, you were as good as her daughter, and no one knew you better. There’s no way she would have blamed you. No way at all.”

  “You’re good for me, Cari
ssa.”

  “I know it.”

  Ophelia rinsed her hair again and pulled the body wash from the shelf in the shower. She heard Carissa’s cell phone chime, followed by a sigh.

  “What is it?”

  “Daniel and Aden have gone back with some of the pack to bring her body home. They’re going to prepare her body, and the sheriff is going to clear the paperwork. We can bury her in the town cemetery tomorrow.”

  Ophelia cleaned the soap from her body and switched off the water. She took the towel Carissa handed her and wrapped it around her body before she stepped from the tub.

  “Thank you, Carissa. For everything.”

  Carissa gave her a one-armed hug as she led her from the bathroom and up to her room for a clean change of clothes.

  “You’re as good as family, Ophelia. There’s nothing to thank me for.”

  When they returned downstairs no one else was in the living room or kitchen. Carissa fixed them each a cup of coffee, and they settled onto the couch to wait for the men to return. Ophelia smiled when she took her cup.

  “Thanks. After tonight, I think I could sleep for a week.”

  “It’s not just tonight making you tired, you know.”

  Ophelia pressed a hand to her belly. “I know it.”

  “Have you figured out how you’re going to tell him?”

  The front door swung open, and Ophelia dropped her hand as Daniel walked inside. “Tell who what?” he asked.

  “Nothing!” Ophelia said, quickly.

  Daniel raised an eyebrow, but didn’t push. He toed off his boots, placing them just outside the door, but not before he’d tracked mud inside. He turned to Carissa, his face red.

  “Sorry about that. If you’ve got some carpet cleaner, I’ll clean it up.”

  Carissa nodded, and started to stand. “Yeah, there’s some under the sink in the downstairs bathroom. I’ll go get it.”

  Daniel moved past them to the hallway. “Don’t worry about it. Stay there. I’ll get it.”