Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1)

by Alizabeth Lynn

  With a curse for her own forgetfulness, Carissa grabbed her keys and walked out to her SUV. As soon as she opened the door, she saw the phone in the right cup holder in the center console. Cursing again, she leaned in and grabbed it, shutting the door and leaning against the side of the vehicle as she opened the device. That was when she noticed the time. Eleven was too late to call her nana. She’d just wait and talk to her in the morning.

  The wind picked up, as did the sensation of being watched, but when Carissa peered across the street, the lights were off again, and the curtains were still closed. Whoever had eyes on her didn’t want to be seen.

  Aden McTarver stood silently in his darkened living room staring out at the nearly empty night. His gaze settled on the woman standing in the driveway of the house across from his. Thanks to her porch light, he’d caught a glimpse of her face when she walked out, eyes downcast. Her hair was a wavy waterfall of glossy brown that settled just below her shoulders, and judging by the height difference between her and her vehicle when she reached it, she probably wasn’t much shorter than his own six foot two. He watched her lean into her SUV to grab something, and he couldn’t help but admire the cute rear end framed enticingly in tight blue jeans.

  Even though his friend was due any moment, Aden didn’t move away from his window. His neighbor’s house had been vacant for the past year. The woman was the first person he’d seen other than the painters who had visited a few weeks before. His innate curiosity was the only thing that tempered the monotony as his years flew by, so he was naturally interested in the woman’s story. Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets. If snooping on his neighbor was the only thing he could do to temper the boredom, he needed a new night job.

  He finally started to turn away, but before he could, she emerged from the driver’s side, and after she shut the door, leaned back against the vehicle. She turned her face to the sky, and although the night wasn’t quite bright enough to see the color of her eyes, the structure of her face was breathtaking. High cheekbones highlighted almond-shaped eyes, a pert upturned nose, and full, top-heavy lips. Her ears were small and dainty. The left earlobe sported two small earrings: one was a dangle, and the other was a stud. She suddenly turned that pretty face in his direction, and Aden sucked in a breath. If he didn’t know any better, he could have sworn she knew he was there.

  As he backed deeper into the shadows, the strength of the woman’s gaze was like a punch to the gut, shaking him to the core. For the first time in too long it seemed that his life had the potential to become interesting again. Filled with new hope, he watched her walk back toward her house, throwing one cautious glance in his direction before entering and closing her door. The night was once more silent and empty, leaving Aden feeling hollow and alone. He crossed to his couch and sat down in the dark to await the arrival of his friend, already wishing the night was over.

  Chapter Four

  White gloved hands sat folded atop a polished mahogany meeting table. His apprentice, T, sat to his right, as he stared down his guests. Leader Pembelton, the High Master of the Vampire Council, and Christopher Breckenridge, the werewolf clan’s Supreme Pack Master, sat side-by-side. Rubbing his gloved hands together, the sorcerer smiled at the two men.

  “Where do we stand, gentlemen?”

  Leader Pembelton gained his feet and bowed. “We have our sights on two women that should be passing through Jaune in a matter of days.”

  “And what do you plan to do with them?”

  “Drink them dry, sir, and collect their magick for you.”

  “And the other issue?”

  Leader Pembelton took his seat as Christopher stood, inclining his head toward the sorcerer. “The local pack master will be lending his services to help catch them.”

  The sorcerer sighed, and his assistant leaned forward. “The other issue, Mr. Breckenridge,” T said through clenched teeth.

  “Oh, yes. Garrett is preparing for the ceremony, as instructed.”

  “And his daughter?”

  Christopher scratched his neck and shuffled his feet. “His eldest isn’t breeding yet, and his youngest doesn’t know what she is.”

  Red sparks flew from the fingertips of the sorcerer’s gloves singing them black. “See that he rectifies that, Mr. Breckenridge. I will not tolerate his failure. Or yours.”

  Carissa wondered what the world was coming to. It had been four days since she’d seen Mr. Magnificent, and that visual scrumptiousness was proving to be the only good thing to happen that week. Today would certainly not be making her list of The Best Top Ten Days Living Back Home. Two different women had attempted to shoplift within the first half-hour of having the doors to Baby Steps open. She pegged them as out-of-towners, but that didn’t lessen the frustration. The police response was prompt, but the sheriff didn’t seem to care too much about the attempted robbery of a little second-hand store. Although he did keep checking his watch and muttering about the sun going down. It was two hours after their attempted robbery before Carissa finally had a chance to sit down.

  The sheriff hung around longer than his deputies, and some of his queries still had her scratching her head. More than once he’d questioned the appearance of the women, but not their faces, or even their height—no, he was more interested in how they spoke to one another, if they’d talked in odd phrases, or about anything supernatural. Carissa was inclined to chalk it up to him not caring, but there was the memory of Ryan’s odd behavior, then Ophelia saying he might not have been nuts, and then this…maybe the whole damn town was loony.

  Frustrating though it was, it wasn’t something that should surprise her. Jaune was a small town in the middle of nowhere. Their closest neighbors were the alligators in the swamp and the men living in shacks on the water—not part of Jaune or Springhill—but in the murky unknown in between. Strange was the name of the game.

  Carissa didn’t hate the town, but as the police wrapped up their questions and left, she wondered if coming back had been such a great idea.

  She had enough savings to not work for a while, like she’d been doing in Shreveport, but then again…what if something like this happened again, and it was only her nana in the store? No, she couldn’t take that chance with Eleanor’s safety. For better or worse, she was home, and she would see everything through to the end.

  A few miles across town, Bernadine Forrester looked askance at her sister, worried about the silence of the other woman. She noticed Nadia’s hands gripping the steering wheel until her knuckles were practically white.

  “Slow down! The cops aren’t on our tail now, but they will be if you don’t calm yourself. Just a few more miles and we’ll be out of this town and out of Louisiana.”

  Nadia trembled. “I don’t know how you ever got me wrapped up in this. I’m not a criminal, Bernie. I never have been.”

  Bernadine laughed. “Don’t be so naive! If we don’t take what we want, we’ll never get anywhere. The economy is shit, so we don’t have any choice.”

  She glanced at the hand-drawn map pinned to the dashboard in front of her. Bernadine gestured to the trees and the road before their truck. “There should be a little dirt road up there. This truck has four-wheel drive, so we can take a shortcut through the woods. It’ll shave a few miles off our trip, and put us over the Arkansas border a lot faster.”

  “I don’t know, Bernie. Something doesn’t seem right.” Nadia’s voice shook as violently as her body. “Where’d you get that map, anyway?”

  “From a boyfriend,” Bernadine answered in a clipped tone. “What does it matter?”

  Nadia pulled onto the road her sister indicated and came to a complete stop. “I still don’t feel right about this. You should drive.”

  Bernadine thought about arguing, but with the way her poor sister was shaking, the girl would be more likely to run them into the bayou than to safely get them across the state line.

  Bernadine switched seats with her sister and shifted into gear. Half a mile down the winding
, swampy road, they came to a narrow, rickety, wooden bridge over the water. The front tires barely touched the wood when, suddenly, there was a loud “POP!”

  They both jumped in their seats. Cursing, Bernadine leapt out, followed shortly by Nadia. Walking toward the tailgate of the truck, they discovered both back tires were flat.

  Nadia glared at her sister. “See? I told you I didn’t feel right about this, and now we’re stuck in the middle of nowhere, on the run from the friggin’ cops! What about this sounds like a good thing to you?”

  Bernadine tried to hide her growing fear. “You worry too much. We’ll just keep walking. With our talents, we should be fine.”

  Nadia shivered, though the air was humid and still. “I don’t think being able to talk to animals is going to help us.”

  “Why not? We are in the woods, you know!”

  “I know we are, but Bernie, there aren’t any animals here.”

  Both women stood still, listening, and Bernadine finally gave in. Unable to hide the fear anymore, she said, “Okay. Let’s go back to the main road.”

  Unfortunately, their luck had just run out. Two men stepped onto the dirt road between them and their escape. Both strangers appeared to weigh about two hundred pounds and were each at least six feet tall. They wore hunting clothes and had every inch of available skin covered in camo paint.

  The slightly taller of the two turned to his companion. “Would ya lookie here? I think we found ourselves just what we were lookin’ for.”

  The other man pulled out a photo and studied it a moment. “I reckon yer right.”

  Bernadine grabbed Nadia’s hand and ran, slipping and stumbling, across the bridge. They didn’t make it far. The minute they stepped off the other side, something heavy landed on them from above, knocking both women to the ground.

  The same heavy something hit them in the back of their heads, and the world went dark. Bernadine’s last thought was that she should have listened to her sister. The shortcut was a very bad idea.

  When she came to, Bernadine was groggy and her eyes wouldn’t focus. From what she could see, she and her sister were tied up in a very tiny cabin, and the sun was going down outside.

  “Nadia! Nadia, please answer me!” she pleaded.

  Her sister groaned, but didn’t move. Bernadine wept, her shoulders shaking with fear and sadness. It was all her fault. Their mother told her nothing good would come from the way she lived, but she hadn’t listened. She hadn’t wanted to. Now, as she listened to footsteps in the darkness, all she wanted was the chance to apologize.

  With an eerie squeak, the door in front of her opened to two people wearing long, dark cloaks that hid their features. The figures walked to the women, saying nothing, and Bernadine could no longer see her sister. It was too dark.

  “Please don’t hurt us,” she whimpered, as a gloved hand shot out and grabbed her by the hair.

  Bernadine peered up to where the face should have been, but saw nothing more than a glowing pair of red eyes. She screamed, but the figure did not react.

  It slowly tilted Bernadine’s head to the side, caressing her neck with its free hand. Fear skittered along her skin, a cold trail wherever those gloved fingers rested. The eyes held her still, hypnotizing in their power. She didn’t even flinch when she heard Nadia scream.

  Red dots danced before her eyes, but Bernadine couldn’t tear her gaze away. The being lowered its face to her neck, scraping something sharp across her skin. Once, twice, then suddenly, pain like a spear of ice shot through her veins.

  Then it was hot. So hot, she thought she’d actually burn from the fire of it. Her arms went numb, and she blacked out with the sound of her sister’s pleading in her ears.

  Chapter Five

  Carissa awoke half an hour before her alarm went off. She was shaking, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees. She hadn’t had a nightmare in months. Heartsick, she wondered when, or if, they would stop for good. They threatened the resolve in her heart to move on.

  Doing her best to stem the flow, Carissa scrubbed her hands over her face. She needed to get herself together. Crying wouldn’t bring Ryan back. It wouldn’t enable her to gaze into his amber eyes, or run her fingers through his soft black hair. She’d never again see the quick flash of his dimples when he flirted with her. She’d never again question his motives when he talked about his interests.

  Her last thought brought her up short. Carissa blinked the remaining moisture from her eyes with a frown. She got out of bed and headed into her bathroom to take a shower. She let the hot water soothe away the dregs of the bad dream. With her mind clearer, she realized she’d identified the real problem, the true reason she still became upset when she thought of him. It wasn’t that she missed him, or that she’d once believed her love for him was something that would last forever. No, she was upset that she never had closure, that he never told her the actual truth, instead saying everything was “work related.”

  Ryan had been a very talented photojournalist, and even though he worked for the local news station and newspaper, they frequently assigned him to news stories all over the state. In fact, he’d been traveling Interstate 20, on his way back late at night from a business trip in Monroe, when the accident happened. The best that anyone could tell, Ryan had somehow lost control and run off the road. Officials found his truck upside down in the trees along the side of the highway. Mercifully, they believed he’d died on impact and hadn’t suffered, which was a very small consolation to the wife he left behind.

  Carissa worked shampoo into her hair. Two things went through her head the moment she got the call. She was thankful he hadn’t suffered, but she’d also been upset that she’d never have the answers she craved. At the time, she’d pushed that idea from her mind, chastising herself for being so callous, but now, reflecting on that moment, she realized she should have seen the signs, then. She’d been falling out of love with him for a while, and when he died, reconciliation on the horizon or not, she knew, deep down, they wouldn’t have lasted, and that truth made her feel guilty.

  After rinsing out the shampoo, Carissa massaged the conditioner into her scalp and took a deep breath. Her heart didn’t feel as heavy anymore, now that she was able to be honest with herself. After rinsing her hair again, Carissa switched off the water and stepped out of the tub. She wrapped herself in a big fluffy towel and walked back to her bedroom, where she turned off the alarm she’d forgotten to take care of before her shower.

  She dressed in a teal-blue summer dress with matching strappy sandals before returning to the bathroom to hang up her towel. After brushing her hair, she clipped the brown locks messily to the back of her head and called it done. The look left tendrils down to frame her face, but kept the bulky weight of her hair off her neck. It was the best she could do to combat the sticky Louisiana air.

  Forgoing makeup, Carissa made her way to the kitchen where she poured herself a steaming cup of overly sweet coffee. That pick-me-up was exactly what she needed to dispel the lingering clouds left over from her inner revelations. Then, struck by inspiration, she retrieved her phone from her purse and sent her best friend a text. A girls’ night was exactly what she needed.

  She ate a quick breakfast while standing at the counter and looking out the kitchen window toward her neighbor’s house. She’d seen him on his porch a couple of times after she’d come in at night, but never more than a glimpse before he disappeared back inside. She still wondered who he was, and she was fairly certain his were the eyes she felt on her whenever she spent too much time outdoors after dark. She’d walked over one morning, with the intention of introducing herself, but she’d received no response, which made the possible spying even creepier.

  With a shake of her head, Carissa cleaned up from breakfast and grabbed her purse. The police would be following up on the attempted theft, and she wanted to get to the store before her nana, just in case they came by early. She checked her phone before leaving th
e driveway, but there were no new messages. She tossed the device into her purse, and headed to work.

  Carissa made it to nightfall without any incidents, but no text back from her friend. Then again, with the significant amount of paperwork generated from the attempted theft keeping her busy until an hour after the sun went down, a girl’s night out was no longer something she wanted. She grabbed takeout on the way home, which she ate in the car just because she could.

  Her cell phone chimed as she pulled into the driveway. Thinking it might be her friend after all; she slid the SUV into park, and checked the caller ID.

  It wasn’t her friend, but she answered with a smile. “Hi, Mom.”

  “Rissa! I just heard about the shoplifting. Your grandmother said it was nothing to worry about, but I just had to call you!” Teresa Mouton spoke quickly, as if all the air in the world would run out before she finished.

  Carissa laughed. “Nana was right. They didn’t get away with anything and I have no doubt the cops will handle everything.”

  “But baby! Did you at least give them copies of the surveillance tapes? We don’t want those criminals to get away!” Listening to her mother talk, Carissa reached up and unclipped her hair, letting the long locks flow over her shoulders in a glossy brown wave.

  Between that and her mother’s obvious concern, her own tension faded slightly as she responded, “Mom! Calm down. If they do get away, it’s all right. They didn’t hurt anyone and they didn’t make off with our merchandise. No harm. No foul.”

  Carissa knew her mother didn’t like to overstep her boundaries when it came to the business, so it was no surprise when Teresa huffed out a breath, but didn’t argue, “You’re right, of course. I just worry about you, Carissa. With your sister off to God-knows-where and your grandmother living in the swamp, you’re the only person I have around here. I only called because I care.”