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

by Alizabeth Lynn

  She held up her hand before he could continue. “You couldn’t possibly know how I feel. No one asked me what I thought about this. No one gave me a choice, and now I’m here, away from the life I want to live.”

  Her father didn’t move, and his tone remained mild when he responded. “I know this is difficult for you, but we’re dying out. We have to preserve our species. That vampire you were with—he’s not one of us. He’s an abnormal devil-spawn, too abhorrent to even think about touching the revered skin of a God-created lycan!” His voice rose to a shout with the last sentence.

  Carissa raised an eyebrow at him, keeping her voice calm. “And you just expect me to jump on board? Well, I have news for you! You may have donated your sperm to my mother, but you’re no family of mine.” She looked down her nose at him. “And I’d rather have that vampire’s touch than any of you.”

  Her father stepped closer, the mottled red of his face bright in the early morning light. “So, you prefer being with a bloodsucker to one of your own kind, do you?”

  “Yes! At least he’s honest with me!”

  “Really? How quickly did he tell you what he is, Carissa?”

  She smiled. “A lot quicker than the twenty-five years it took for you to come clean.”

  “You mark my words, Carissa. Vampires are parasites, sub-human monstrosities that don’t deserve their deranged existence.”

  Carissa sat down on the bed and glared ice at the man before her. “Well, at this point, I’d prefer the parasite over the mangy mutt who decided to change me against my will.”

  The shock on his face turned his skin from red to purple, clashing horribly with his hair. He smiled a grim smile. “Well, after the note Gwen left for him, he won’t even think about looking for you. You may test me with your defiance, but I always win. You will mate with Ryker three nights from now, on the night before your first shift, and before the end of the year, we will hear of your pregnancy, or your bloodsucker dies. Now, you can go anywhere in this house, but you are not allowed to leave until you can see things my way.”

  Carissa watched him walk out, the lump in her throat so big she could hardly breathe. She sank to the floor where she stood, wrapping her arms around her knees. She was less than a person to the man who should have cared the most—nothing but a breeding bitch for the sake of his pack—less than the vampire he hated so much. At least Aden gets to live, but what kind of life will I have? She wobbled to her feet to stare through the glass again. The water sparkled through the trees as her tears fell. Hugging her arms around her belly, she wished she had the courage to give herself to the mercy of the swamp, but there was one thing her father didn’t know—one thing even she only suspected—and it was enough to keep her alive, no matter her future.

  Aden awoke with a jolt a little after eight a.m. His heart was racing and he tasted—pancakes? He closed his eyes, trying to orient his senses. He smelled the woods, and then a bright flash of trees and water appeared in his mind, along with a vision of Carissa standing in front of a high window, crying.

  Aden sat up so fast he fell off the couch and rammed his knee into the side of the coffee table. “Shit! Fuck! Son of a bitch!” he cursed, trying to right himself on the floor. The clamoring in his head was akin to an orchestra percussion section on the opening day of the opera. He pressed a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. Even the dimmed light coming through his blackout curtains was too much to bear. With a groan, he struggled to his feet, jumping at the muttered, “Um-hum,” that issued from the recliner behind him. He spun around, head spinning faster than he could move, to see Eleanor smiling from the chair.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. "Sit down, Aden, before you hurt yourself...again"

  Ears ringing with every word, he did as she said before speaking, "What are you doing here?”

  She pulled a vial of lime green liquid from her purse, and held it out to him. “Other than rescuing you from your hangover, you mean?”

  “Yeah, other than that.” He took the vial from her, uncorking it to smell the liquid—the gelatinous muck was scented with something suspiciously like skunk musk.

  “Take it, Aden. It’s not poison.”

  “That’s not what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled.

  Upending the bottle in one quick motion, there was a slithering suction sound as a glob fell onto his tongue. Eyes watering, he forced the semi-solid concoction to the back of his mouth, coating his tongue with the taste of raw liver and garden slugs. Bile rose in his throat, causing it to take him four tries to finally swallow Eleanor’s medication. It slid like a snail, slow and slimy down his throat, to settle like a ball of mud in his belly—but the minute it hit, the effects of the hangover were gone. He looked up at the old woman, a grim smile on his ick-covered lips.

  “If this is what awaits me when I drink, I think I’ll be passing from now on.”

  Eleanor chuckled once before frowning. “Did you really think drinking was going to accomplish anything, boy?”

  Turning away, Aden rolled his eyes. “I was hoping.”

  The old woman reached over and tapped him on the back of the head. “She didn’t leave you, idiot.”

  Rubbing his scalp, he turned to face her. “What do you mean? I saw her letter.”

  “Yes, I saw it, too,” she told him, “But that wasn’t written by Carissa.

  “Bull. It was in her house, on her table.”

  Eleanor reached out to smack him again, but he jerked his head back, scowling. “That wasn’t her handwriting, Aden. She was kidnapped by the pack.”

  Aden sat back in his seat, and stretched his legs out in front of him, reaching up to scratch his ear. "Should I even ask how you know what’s going on?”

  Eleanor ignored his question. "You need to have your guard up, and you shouldn't be alone."

  Aden shrugged. "I already know I shouldn’t mess with the wolves—you don’t need to warn me about them."

  "I’m not so sure—you did think Carissa left you. Who’s the smart one today?"

  He raised an eyebrow. "You’ve made your point. So, what’s your issue? Other than her, why are you here?”

  "Another slayer arrived in town last night. At the same hotel where you and your friend found the other one."

  Aden leaned toward her. “And that concerns me, why?”

  Eleanor moved faster than he thought her capable, reaching out and smacking him on the top of his head.

  “Hey!” Eyes watering, Aden glared at her.

  She stood up and leaned down until they were eye to eye. “Hey, nothing, young man. Did you actually read the files from Ryan’s computer?”

  His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. “Do you know everything? Yes, I read them.”

  “Then you should already know. Put two and two together, boy!”

  He racked his brain, trying to see any kind of correlation. Ryan had been a slayer and a werewolf, and he’d worked for the Vampire Council as an enforcer, but that didn’t explain Aden’s part in it. He thought harder, rereading the werewolf information in his mind’s eye, while Eleanor tapped her foot impatiently. Werewolves looked almost exactly like real wolves when changed, and the only sign the person was a shifter was his scent. They smelled wild and a bit spicy, just like—Holy shit!

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “Slayers aren’t humans at all, they’re werewolves!” The old woman nodded her head, waiting for Aden to continue. “But why are they after me? I was on the hit list well before I ever knew Carissa.”

  Eleanor tapped Aden on the head again, a little harder than before. “Not there yet, boy.”

  He held up his hand to ward her off. “Sheesh, woman. Give a guy a break. I’m not even supposed to be awake right now!”

  He focused harder, knowing the old woman wouldn’t let him get up and look. Something about the scent was sitting right on the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t seem to grasp it. He could have sworn he’d heard that description before.

  Aden let his mind
travel back, back to when he was human. Someone once used the term “earthy and wild…with a kick” to describe—well, that part he couldn’t remember.

  Maybe if he remembered who said it, everything would finally make sense. He glared at Eleanor again, and she raised her hand.

  “I’m thinking. I’m thinking. Geeze.”

  Aden slumped down on the couch and closed his eyes. He pictured a woman, tall and slim with ruby lips, beguiling brown eyes, and teeth a little pointier than normal. She wore her long black hair plaited down her back, and embraced the night like a second skin.

  Jasmine.

  Aden’s eyes flew wide. She’d used those words to describe him every time they had sex, calling him yummy, and saying what a conquest he was. At the time, Aden thought she just really liked him, but once he awoke to his new life, he found out differently, and now he finally knew why.

  He scrubbed his hands over his face as the truth sank in. “I was supposed to be a werewolf,” he whispered.

  Eleanor tapped him lightly on his head. “You still are, Aden. If a werewolf bites you, it’ll trigger your natural ability to change, but it would be a bit more…flexible…than your typical lycan because of the vampire DNA you now have.”

  He looked up. “Flexible? You mean to say I could shift at any time, day or night?”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

  “Well, that certainly explains why the Vampire Council wants me dead.” He pulled on his ear. “I didn’t read anything about this in Ryan’s files. This isn’t supposed to be possible, is it?”

  Eleanor shook her head. “As far as I know, you’re the first.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Almost certain.” She eyed him curiously. “Just remember to be careful who you trust. I have a bad feeling your slayers and Carissa’s kidnapping are somehow linked.”

  Aden sighed and walked into the kitchen without responding. He heated a quick glass of blood. He’d been thinking the same thing—since the slayers were actually werewolves, of course they were linked. The Vampire Council hired lycans to protect them and to do their dirty work, which sometimes included killing other vampires. Werewolves were hard to kill, super strong, and immune to mind control—they were the perfect tools for war. Setting his empty cup in the sink, Aden prayed he was wrong about everything, knowing that because of the email proof, that wouldn’t be the case.

  When he returned, Eleanor was still in his living room. She looked at him, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

  “What?” he asked. “Do I have blood on my face?”

  Eleanor shook her head. “I’m glad Carissa has you, Aden.” She reached out to pat his knee as he sat down. “Now, what are you going to do to get her back?”

  Suddenly, he remembered what woke him up in the first place. He told her what he saw, and watched as she gripped the armrest, her knuckles turning white. At first, he thought it was out of fear, but then he saw the excitement on her face.

  He walked over and crouched in front of her. “Are you alright, Eleanor?”

  She smiled at him. “Oh yes. Oh, yes, absolutely. Not only does this prove her strength and love for you, I also know where she is.” She raised an eyebrow at him and smiled wider. “I’m also thinking y’all have a deeper connection than you realize.”

  Aden heard her, but couldn’t focus on anything but what she said first. “How exactly does this prove her love?”

  Eleanor continued to smile at him. “She recognizes you as a mate.”

  Sitting down beside her, Aden asked, “How can she do that if I’m no longer a wolf—and she doesn’t know I should have been in the first place?”

  “Aden, you were never a wolf to begin with. You had the genetic ability to change, but a vampire got to you first. However, you’re still a supernatural creature, and if a werewolf were to bite you, that could change things even further.” Eleanor waved her hand. “Either way, with your heritage, you’re still an acceptable mate for her, and your bodies know it.”

  “I thought lycan law stated werewolves can only mate for procreation—rendering me a bit…inept?”

  “Aden, you were a member of a supernatural species before you were changed. You never died! You slipped into a coma and woke up craving blood, but you could survive just as well on human food. Why else do you think you can stay awake during the day?” She eyed the empty whisky bottle on the coffee table. “Or why you can drink human drinks?”

  If he hadn’t been sitting, Aden was sure he would have fallen over. There was no way that was possible. All humans had to die to awaken as vampires—didn’t they? He stared at the old woman.

  “How do you know?”

  Eleanor laughed, the sound much younger than her gray hair and wrinkles, and reminiscent of tinkling bells. “Magick opens the eyes to many things, Aden. Your life is just one of many. Now, bring me a piece of paper, and I’ll tell you where to go to find Carissa.”

  Aden reached into his end table and pulled out a tablet and a pen. He handed it to Eleanor and she sketched a rough map leading from his house to the swamp. She tore the paper out and handed it to him.

  “The vampire virus still prohibits you from entering the light of the sun, but I guarantee they aren’t expecting you to know where to find them.”

  He studied the paper. “Who exactly are they?”

  “Carissa’s father, sister, and brother-in-law. Her father owns a home about four miles from where you found those women.” She slanted him a look. “Do you still have that potion?”

  He nodded, not even bothering to question her knowledge of his actions this time. “Yeah, but I don’t want to kill anyone else.”

  “Hopefully you won’t have to. It strips any supernatural creature of their preternatural abilities, turning them fully human, killing some of them. For instance, if you turn a two-hundred-year-old werewolf human, they would die because humans can’t live that long. In the wrong hands, it would be very dangerous.”

  “That explains a lot,” Aden said with a frown, looking at her suspiciously. “The Vampire Council knows you can make it, don’t they?”

  Eleanor didn’t respond to his statement, but she smiled and stood up. “I’d recommend you start figuring out a rescue strategy. Although most of them can’t shift at will, they are very strong, and if you don’t do something to change their way of thinking, they’ll kill you for being a vampire. I trust you, Aden.” She reached over to squeeze his hand. “I’m trusting you to bring me back my granddaughter.”

  Aden looked down at the dainty hand clasping his fingers and nodded. “You have my word.”

  He turned his eyes back to the paper, a plan already forming in his mind. Now all he had to do was get to Carissa, and bring her back.

  Carissa had no idea how long she stood at the window, but she didn’t move until Gwen silently brought in a tray of food, leaving without uttering a word. Mechanically, Carissa ate, knowing she needed to keep her strength up, but the chicken salad tasted like rubber and grass, and she couldn’t finish the meal. Pushing the tray to the foot of her bed, she stood up, leaving the room in search of the bathroom. After fighting an unwelcome bout of nausea, she looked curiously through the cabinets for a toothbrush. She found one next to a little white box with the words PREGNANCY TEST emblazoned on the front in bright purple letters.

  She took the box out, tossing it from hand-to-hand as she contemplated taking it. Mother Nature was late, but the only man she’d been with was a vampire. But you know he’s different, the little voice in her head told her, and since she already suspected…. She took a deep breath and tore the box open before she could change her mind—and the three minutes that followed were some of the longest of her life.

  Eyes half-closed, Carissa peeked at the testing wand sitting on the edge of the tub. She opened her eyes wider, blinking. She rubbed her eyes—she must be overtired. Picking up the test, she squinted her eyes and leaned in for a closer look, but there was no denying the bright pink plus sign. She w
as definitely pregnant.

  With a vampire’s baby.

  Carissa sat down hard on the toilet lid. Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared at the little piece of plastic and fibers. She’d suspected, but being the rational person she was, she’d really only thought her lateness was brought on by stress—but the real reason was right in front of her eyes. There was no way her father would let Aden live, now. Unless…

  The idea forming in her mind brought on another wave of queasiness, but if she couldn’t find a way out, it might be her only viable option. To her way of thinking, she only had three choices, anyway: Escape, throw herself into the swamp, or allow the mating ceremony and pass this baby off as Ryker’s. A cold chill skittered down her arms, and Carissa let the tears fall. As much as she hated it, she’d take the last option before the second.

  Unless she could escape.

  Taking a deep breath, she stood up, stashing the test box back in the cabinet, and placing the used test in her pocket. If she couldn’t find a way out, she needed to dispose of it where no one would find it. She looked around the room, hoping for another exit, but no luck. The window was crank style, and hardly big enough for a child, much less a full-figured woman – she’d need a lot more than Ophelia’s Crisco and crowbar to make that work. Frustrated, she walked into the hall, passing two locked rooms, before going downstairs and entering the living room, where she came to a jerking halt. Rafe was sitting on the couch facing the door, and reading a book, but she knew he’d be alert.

  Carissa didn’t say a word to him as she walked through into the kitchen, both hands shoved into her pockets, fingers curled around the test, as she tried to keep from shaking. There were plenty of windows in the large kitchen, a lovely glass back door, and her sister leaning against the counter, drinking a cup of coffee.

  Gwen pointed to the coffee pot. “There’s plenty if you want some, Rissa.”

  Cloaking herself in silence, Carissa grabbed a clean mug from the hooks over the sink, and poured herself a brimming shot of caffeine. She needed to figure out a plan, and didn’t want to risk fatigue—not now. Her hidden hand flexed around the test in her pocket. Avoiding her sister’s gaze, she carried the cup back to her room, feeling Gwen’s frown all the way up to the other floor of the house, but she didn’t care.