The Blackwater Legacy (The Bloodlines Legacy Series Book 2)

by Apryl Baker

  The growl from the Cajun standing in my doorway brings me back around to the current fury directed at me. Standing there in the light, he looks dangerous, like he can do me serious harm at any second. He doesn’t resemble any zombie I’ve ever seen, though. If not a zombie, then what else could he be?

  “What are you?” I ask hesitantly. “You don’t look like a zombie.”

  He lets out a string of what I can only guess are curse words in his backwoods Cajun dialect. Great, Saidie. Go and upset the dangerous dead creature who looks like he wants to murder you already. All he’d need to do is throw some barbecue sauce on your bones, and you’re a snack made to order.

  “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I…I just…I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “I’m no’ anyone, bon fille.” The venom in his voice would curdle milk. “I am notin’, just your new pet. I’m no better den dat beast you put down tonight.”

  “No.” I shake my head and sit on the bed. “You are no one’s pet. Dead or alive, you are a person, and I won’t hurt you.”

  His green eyes burn with fire for a moment, and then he blinks. They are still cold and hard, but the red I thought I’d seen in them is gone.

  “She’ll hurt you, bon fille, if you doan do wha’ she says.” He sounds resigned, but very bitter.

  “Hurt me?”

  “Necromancers are born and den trained in blood. You learn to kill, to hate, to crave de feel of death. Once you start, you woan be able to stop. She’ll make you start. If dat means she causes you pain, she will. I’ve seen her do it too many times. She gets wha’ she woans by hurtin’ others.”

  “She hurts you?”

  Something flashes in his eyes, and I want to cry for him. It’s there and gone in an instant, but something inside me breaks at his pain. I will not do anything to add to the pain in that look. No matter what, I won’t hurt him.

  I reach out, but he jumps back a good ten feet. “Doan touch me! You are like her, maybe not yet, but you will be. You are a vile, filthy creature dat should be put down, but ah cain’t do it. She forbid me.”

  “You would kill me even though I’ve never done a thing to you?”

  “Oui, ma cherie, in a heartbeat.”

  “I see,” I whisper.

  “Wha’ else you require, ma fille?”

  “Nothing, Aleric. I require nothing from you.”

  He leaves, the door slamming in his wake.

  What the hell kind of mess have I landed myself in?

  Chapter Four

  2:30 a.m.

  The flashing red numbers on the alarm clock laugh at me. I bury my head under the pillow to hide from those mocking little numbers. My body is exhausted, but my mind refuses to succumb to the sleep it so desperately needs. It keeps rewinding to the look on my mom’s face when she saw why Alex and I started screaming this morning. She’d looked at me, and then her eyes landed on Boco. They’d been confused at first, but then they’d bled to horror. When she’d turned her brown eyes to me, fear burned bright. She’d been afraid—of me. Without another word, Mom backed slowly out of the room and closed the door on me and my dead dog.

  Alex said something to me, but I don’t remember what. The stark fear on my mom’s face haunts me. Sabien had shown up about a half an hour later, and it was Alex who’d packed my bags. My dad came out and hugged me before I left, but my mom stayed inside the house. She assumed Gran’s stories were crazy too. Not so crazy now, though. How can I go home and face her, dreading the fear I’ll see on her face and the revulsion in her eyes? The thought of my own mother being afraid or disgusted is more than I can bear.

  I shove the covers off and slip on my socks and shoes. Maybe I’ll go for a walk in the gardens. I’ve always been able to find peace in our garden back home. The feel of the dirt soothes me, for some reason. Mom says it’s because I have a green thumb, but now I’m beginning to think it might have something to do with my newly acquired “gift.” Necromancers deal in the dead, the whole ashes to ashes, dust to dust thing. Maybe I’m drawn to the dirt because of my connection with the dead.

  The house is eerily quiet as I descend the stairs. Very few lights illuminate my path. Several of the stairs squeak as I go down, and I glance behind me, suddenly feeling like I’m doing something wrong, creeping down the stairs instead of walking. Madame did say I would be allowed anywhere but the basement, so I’m not doing anything wrong by going out to the gardens.

  When I finally reach the garden, I take a moment and bask in all the beauty around me. Lighting is very subtly spaced throughout to illuminate the walkways and the night blooming flowers. There are so many I can’t identify, but that only makes me more excited. Mom always left me in charge of our garden in Georgia and the one she planted at the new house in Jacob’s Fork. Granted, it’s a small one, but there are so many ideas I can take home. These night blooming flowers are going to look fabulous around my mom’s back porch.

  The basement barges its way into my thoughts, and because Madame forbade me to go there, it makes me want to go exploring even more. Earlier, I’d nixed the idea of ever going down there, but I’ve always been the one kid who got more curious and determined to do something when told I couldn’t. Madame did say there were very bad things in the basement, but maybe I could convince Aleric to show me. Or not. He’d rat me out faster than I could get the words out. That boy truly hates me, and I’ve done nothing to him. Yet.

  Madame seems determined to make me use him as my living guinea pig. Well, maybe not living. I’m still not sure exactly what he is. I don’t think zombie is the proper monster of choice. He’s too alive for that. Aren’t zombies nothing but mindless reanimated corpses? Boco hadn’t been mindless, though. He seemed aware of himself and his surroundings. Maybe the dead aren’t as stupid as literature and Hollywood portray them? It’s all so confusing.

  A bench calls to me and I wander over to it. The harsh stone doesn’t bother me when I park my butt on it. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath, letting all the scents of the garden and the swamp consume me. It’s intoxicating. That old song my dad used to torture us with, “House of the Rising Sun,” echoes in my ears. It’s haunting and beautiful, full of dark and dangerous things. It reminds me of this place.

  No matter the danger, there’s no denying what I felt out there. Some force reached out and spoke to me on my most basic level when I put Boco down. I want to deny it because it scares me. This gift, as Madame calls it, is a curse. I know that, but it doesn’t stop my body from firing up and begging for more. Those few minutes while I’d held life and death in my hand? Earthshattering. I had the power to bring life or to take it, and I reveled in it. It’s taken me all night to admit that. Is that how it starts? Relishing the way the power makes you feel? I don’t want to be evil, but how can I stop it? Especially if I’m already succumbing to how much I liked the feelings I had?

  Maybe Luka’s right. Maybe they should put me down and be done with it. I’d rather that than hurt someone. I have a feeling Aleric spoke the truth when he said Madame gets what Madame wants. She’ll hurt me if I don’t hurt him. Am I willing to do that, though? Choose someone else to suffer over myself?

  The question rolls around, demanding to be answered, but I can’t. I simply don’t know what I’d be capable of in that situation.

  “My, my, what delicacy do we have here?”

  My head snaps up and I’m startled out of my thoughts when he speaks. A man leans against one of the old oak trees, a toothpick sticking out of his mouth. His voice may be soft, almost seductive, but there is a cruelness to it. Icy blue eyes study me, and his full lips curve up in a smile I’m sure is meant to charm, but it does nothing except let a shiver of unease slip into my thoughts. I don’t know him. I’m out here all alone with no one to have my back.

  Perhaps a walk through the gardens wasn’t such a good idea after all.

  He pushes off from the tree and slithers over to where I am, his blue eyes never leaving mine. “Has Madame taken your tongue, swee
tling?”

  Taken my tongue? She cuts out people’s tongues? My internal alarm is wagging its finger at me, full of righteous anger. I should have listened to my instincts and demanded to go home with Sabien while I had the chance.

  Fingers graze my cheek, and I lean away from him. The sensation is icky, and I have the intense urge to go scrub myself raw to get the filth off. Just who or what is this man?

  “Aw, now, chere, don’t be like that.” He winks, a smile flirting with his lips. His southern drawl deepens as he leans closer. “You and I, we can be great friends. The things we could do together, especially if you can’t scream.” He grabs a lock of my hair and winds it around his fingers. “Mmmm, so soft.”

  My hair is as blonde as you can get. The sun can almost bleach it white in the summer, but with his hands wrapped around it, it’s like he’s leaching the color out of it and replacing my golden tones with a dark, ugly, tarry black. I know that’s not possible, but that’s what it feels like. All the brightness and joy I possess is being drained from my essence by this…thing.

  Anger rolls up faster than I can blink. That bluish white light from before pulses just off the edge of my vision. A small hiss erupts from the man standing over me, and he takes a cautious step away from me. The light grows brighter and my sense of smell sharpens. I can smell the death on him. This man, this…thing, he’s not alive.

  “Wha’ you doin’ out here, ma fille?”

  That voice I’d know anywhere. I turn my head to see him striding down the pathway, scorn written all over those gorgeous features. My panic starts to calm the second I see him, even if he looks pissed enough to do me physical harm.

  “Doan I have enough to worry about wi’out you causin’ me more troubles?”

  Me? How in the hell am I causing trouble when I’d only taken a walk? Before I can say anything, he grabs me by the arm and drags me off the bench, and it’s all I can do to keep up with him as he tows me behind him back up the path toward the house. Evil Blondie back there is laughing like a crazed hyena, and I shoot him the nastiest expression I can come up with while trying to stay on my feet.

  Just before we round the corner of the house, I dig my feet in and try to make him stop. Only he doesn’t. I fall flat on my face and he continues, dragging me around the house and up the front steps. I feel every step my body bounces off.

  “Stop!”

  He ignores me and throws open the door. Before I can even begin to guess his intentions, Aleric picks me up and tosses me over his shoulder so my eyes are level with his ass. If I wasn’t fuming mad, I might even take a minute to notice how nice his backside is, but with each step he takes, his shoulder digs into my already sore stomach. There is no ignoring the pain, thanks to my bouncy ride up the porch steps.

  “Put me down!” I land several blows that would make my assistant deputy police chief mama proud, but he doesn’t so much as grunt. He just keeps walking then takes the stairs two at a time.

  For the second time tonight, Aleric dumps me on the floor of my room and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

  What the ever loving hell?

  I am sick of his attitude. No way is he getting away with this crap. He may not like me, but he will not manhandle me! I push myself up and tear out after him. He’s only a few doors down, and when he sees me coming, he turns and folds his arms across his chest, irritated.

  “What is your problem?” The words sound more like a snarl, kinda like Alex’s brother Jason does when he’s close to shifting into a wolf.

  “You are!” His face morphs into a sneer. “Do you think I woan to be chasing after you in de middle of de night? If any harm comes to you, it is me Madame will punish.”

  “I was just taking a freaking walk in the gardens!”

  He snorts and his hand snakes out, winding a lock of my blonde hair around his fingers. “You see dis, jeune fille?” He gives the lock a sharp enough tug to make my eyes water. “Dis is a distraction. Dat thing out dere tonight? Dat be Kristoff. He is a bad man. A butcher of women, and dis hair? His favorite color. You would be dead before mornin’. And den who you think suffer for your loss? Me! So, no, jeune fille, it wasn’t just a freakin’ walk in da gardens!”

  I cringe not from the anger rolling in Aleric’s expression, but from the thoughts of Kristoff. I knew something was off with that guy. I’d gotten angry, but I’m starting to wonder if that wasn’t my magic surging up to help protect me. It sensed the threat, and if nothing else, it knew Kristoff was dead. It might even have known how to deal with the threat, but I’m glad I didn’t have to answer that question. Kristoff is someone to stay away from while I’m here.

  “What is he?” When Aleric doesn’t answer, I try again. “What is he, Aleric? I know he’s not alive, but I don’t know what he is.”

  “He be da same as me.” Aleric’s eyes turn into frigid glaciers.

  “That doesn’t tell me a damn thing.” I move so I’m right in his face. Probably a mistake, but I do it anyway. I have never been someone to back down from a fight. “What are you?”

  “You doan wan’ to know, ma petite sorcery de mort.”

  “Oh, but I do.” I lean in closer until all I see are his eyes. “Tell me.”

  He flinches, and I can see the fight not to speak, but the word that is drawn out of him doesn’t shock me as much as the realization that I made him tell me. I don’t know how, but I did.

  Aleric snarls something then pushes me away, going into his bedroom and locking the door.

  His one word reverberates through my mind.

  Vampire.

  Chapter Five

  The bright morning sun should have woken me, but no. One very pissed off vampire pounds on my door and tells me to get my ass up before he’s forced to do it for me. Even alludes to the fact I won’t like it none too much.

  Giving the door the stink eye, I crawl out of bed before the crack of dawn. The clock tells me it’s only 5:03 a.m. I’d been asleep less than an hour, thanks to Aleric’s big announcement.

  Vampires. I’m living in a den of vampires. How is this even possible? I mean, vampires aren’t real, right?

  But how the freak are you supposed to deny it when one is glaring at you like he wants to take you apart piece by piece and feed you to the buzzards himself?

  I bypass the shower and throw on jeans and a t-shirt. My hair gets a quick brush and pulled back into a ponytail. I am in no mood to attempt to look even halfway decent this morning. Not after last night. Why they want me up this early is beyond me. I never crawl out of bed before eight.

  When I rip open the door, fully intending to stomp down the stairs, I’m shocked to find the target of my ire leaning against the opposite wall, a smirk on his face.

  My hand itches to slap him. I’ve never felt the need to actually hurt someone before. But this guy? He’s asking for it.

  “’Bout time, ma fille.” His drawl isn’t as deep as it was last night. Aleric definitely didn’t grow up in New Orleans. His voice reminds me of the way Luka talks. Madame did say he spoke Romani, so maybe he’s Romanian or Romani too? It would make sense. How long has he been here, though, to make his accent more Cajun than Romani?

  “I didn’t ask you to wake me up.” I turn and head toward the stairs, very aware he’s behind me. Vampire or not, rude or not, the boy is H.O.T., and any girl in her right mind would be aware of his mouthwatering hotness.

  “Madame serves breakfast ever’ mornin’ at five sharp. Best remember dat. She doan like it when we be late.”

  There is a sliver of fear in Aleric’s tone, one that is barely discernable, but there all the same. What has she done to make him so afraid of her?

  The dining room Aleric leads us to is already occupied by several people. The two who’d been there last night are lounging to the right of Madame. Kristoff is on her left. He winks, and I can’t help the nose scrunch. I can’t get the foul smell of him out of my memories. The only person at the table I don’t know is the woman who sits beside Kristof
f, her head down, not looking at anyone. Odd.

  It feels all True Blood meets Twilight. The beautiful people from the Twilight series, only they’re as screwed up as the people in True Blood.

  “Good morning, ma chere.” Madame’s smile is wide enough to fill the Gulf of Mexico, but it’s also quite false.

  “Good morning.” I take the seat Aleric pulls out for me beside the quiet girl. She’s giving me some serious creepy vibes, and I lean as far away from her as I can. What is her deal?

  “I forgot to inform you of our morning meal.” Madame takes a sip of her coffee. “Aleric kindly volunteered to collect you.”

  I notice Kristoff is staring at Aleric across the table with a bit of hostility. Did he offer to “collect” me as well, and Aleric intervened? Why would he save me from Kristoff, though? Last night, I get it. Maybe Madame told him to look after me, but if Kristoff asked Madame to come find me, surely she couldn’t hold any harm I might come to against Aleric?

  I just don’t know her well enough to answer that question.

  “Mealtimes with our little family are very important to me.” My attention snaps back to Madame when she clears her throat. “Mornings are more like dinner for some of us, though.”

  A single clear glass goblet full of dark red liquid is sitting in front of the majority of the table occupants, and a plate sits before myself and Madame. The creepy girl has nothing in front of her. I’m betting the boys are drinking blood in those glasses. My stomach rolls at the thought. Gross.

  Madame laughs at my expression. “I see you have figured out what Aleric is, as well as the rest of his brothers, oui?”

  Oh, yeah. Den of vampires. “Yes, Aleric explained it last night.”

  “Last night?” Madame’s tone is light, but a hardness has crept into it. Did she not want him to tell me? Not like I wasn’t gonna figure it out if she plans on me experimenting on him.