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

by Alizabeth Lynn

  Carissa didn’t want to be there, and it didn’t matter one iota whether everyone was happy with her or not. She drank the coffee while standing in front of the window, and wished it were a Coke. Hell, she just wished she were back home.

  Back with Aden.

  He was the perfect man. He didn’t push, and called her bluff before she could make a fool of herself. Three weeks alone with him hadn’t been enough. She wanted more—an entire lifetime—and the security to raise their child in peace. She placed a hand over her belly. A smile graced her lips as she thought of Aden’s reaction. He’d be thrilled, she was sure of it. Carissa sighed, the smile fading. Chances were slim that she’d be able to see him again, not without a werewolf trying to kill him.

  Sighing again, she placed the empty cup on top of the dresser and leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. Carissa heard voices drifting up from the living room and thought about closing the door, but she knew that wouldn’t stop anyone from invading her privacy. Sure enough, she spotted her sister walking toward her, carrying a chair and a length of rope. Her heartbeat sped up, the taste of fear coppery in her mouth. She tried to stand, but her body was heavy and hot. Her gaze snapped to the cup. The bitch drugged me again!

  Without speaking, Gwen made short work of tying her to the chair, standing behind her to hold her upright. Carissa wanted to ask why, but the answer was soon obvious. Garrett came toward her from the stairs, followed by Ryker, his thin lips spread into a smirk as they moved closer. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. This was way too much for one day.

  “Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she whispered.

  “Because the ceremony is three nights from now,” her father responded, “And I won’t have you disobeying me in this, Carissa.”

  She glared at the pair of them, but their expressions didn’t change. Garrett pushed his shaggy red hair out of his face, holding her gaze until she gave in and averted her gaze, heart pounding at the complete lack of love in his eyes.

  “You can’t force me to love someone I don’t know,” she muttered, “You can’t force any of this on me and not expect me to resist.” She raised her eyes to Garrett’s once again. “When was the last time someone stripped your freedom from you?”

  Her father stepped over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder, but he ignored her question. “I really do understand how difficult this is for you. I thought being with Ryker would be helpful, and make the transition easier. You and Ryan made a lovely couple. I’m sure you’ll be just as happy with his brother—and feel just as at home with him within the pack.”

  Carissa barred her teeth and snarled at Garrett. “This is how you want me to feel at home? By flaunting the twin of my dead husband? By saying I need to mate with him, when the only familiar thing about him is his looks? Oh yes, Daddy, that was such a great idea,” she sneered with a toss of her hair, rolling her eyes since her head was the only part of her body she could move—this was probably a good thing—if she’d been mobile, she might have punched him, and with what she knew now, the latter didn’t seem like the smartest of ideas. Screw her three options; she wouldn’t mate with Ryker if he was the last fuckwit on earth.

  Ryker stepped forward, his hands outstretched in the symbol for peace—a gesture that wasn’t lost on Carissa. She knew it was only a show for the Pack Master. “I don’t know why my brother wouldn’t tell his mate—”

  “He wouldn’t tell me anything because he was a fucking coward,” she yelled, cutting him off, “and aside from that, from what I know of your society, mating has to be a mutual thing, and I never agreed to be anyone’s mate. I married the man, but as I had no idea he turned furry once a month, we never performed your little ritual.” She smirked, focusing on her father. “Now, I don’t know what you told this man, but after the fiasco at Chicken Park, I’m going to make this crystal clear: I’m not interested in mating with anyone, and I’ve read enough to know that you can’t make me. I really don’t give a damn that werewolves are going extinct. That’s not my problem. If you want more furry little were-babies, look to Gwen, but stop coming to me about it. I’m. Not. Interested.”

  With that said, Carissa closed her eyes, and refused to speak, keeping her silence until she heard their heavy footsteps retreat. Gwen untied her, lying her on the bed before also leaving. Carissa merely heaved a sigh when she heard the door close and the lock click. She may be stuck, but she was human—and drugged, she thought wryly—enough not to roll over and beg.

  As far as she was concerned, her were-family could go to Hell.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  A couple of hours later Carissa stood before the window yet again, dried tears staining her cheeks as she thought about her hopeless situation. She was grateful to be loose, and even more grateful the ceremony wasn’t for a few more nights, but she wanted to be free. Her wrists and ankles were chafed from the ropes Gwen had used to tie her to the chair for her meeting with Garrett and Ryker. She rubbed the skin of her arms absently, glaring through the glass at the figures standing at the tree line on the side of the house. Her father stood to the left, with her late husband’s brother on his right. They were facing away from her, standing before a group of at least twenty young men and women. The windows were thick enough that Carissa couldn’t hear them talking, but the air was charged with restless energy.

  The group fidgeted, the men bristling at whatever Garrett was saying. Ryker took a step forward, turning so the light of the moon illuminated his profile. A twisted smile under a straight nose and dark eyes—how do they not see him for what he really is? The man was evil incarnate, and it seemed only a few of the women in the group could tell. Carissa shuddered as she watched his smile widen. He beckoned to a small woman toward the front of the pack. She moved forward on rubbery legs, tripping and stumbling across the damp ground, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder as the rest of the crowd disbursed. Garrett stayed behind until everyone was gone, then leaned in to whisper something to Ryker, who continued to grin.

  The pack master followed the group, leaving Ryker and the woman alone by the trees. Carissa’s blood boiled. The woman was obviously frightened—her body was vibrating so hard she could barely keep her balance. She turned to say something to Ryker, and Carissa saw tears glistening in the moonlight. Ryker’s grin faded into a scowl as he jerked the woman hard against his chest. She pushed against him, but he didn’t budge. More tears tracked down Carissa’s face. She knew what was coming, and she was powerless to stop it. Unable to look away, she leaned toward the glass as Ryker spun the woman, pinning her back up against a nearby tree.

  The pine tree, in full-bloom glory, seemed to mock the young woman as she struggled. Carissa cursed under her breath. She knew the spectacle was for her—Ryker had warned her not to disobey—but she had no idea he’d go this far. She had to do something. Ryker turned those dark eyes in her direction and smiled. Carissa wanted to step back, but her feet refused to move. More tears leaked from her eyes as he reached out, grasping the neck of the dress the woman wore. With a yank of his arm, he ripped it off while she trembled against the tree, sobbing.

  Carissa glared at Ryker, venom dripping from her furious gaze. Her skin began to tingle, starting at her toes, and zipping through her legs. It sang up her arms, vibrating her muscles, and traveled up her cheeks to her eyes, zapping them dry. Her world took on a grayish hue as she held the werewolf’s gaze. His jaw dropped, but he didn’t let the woman go. Carissa pressed a hand to the glass and prayed for something—anything—to stop him before he could do anything to the poor girl pinned against the tree trunk. Warmth flooded the palm of her hand, the power of her wolf seeking release in a way she didn’t understand.

  Sounds swirled in her mind—musical notes that colored the gray glow with shades of blue, green, and pink. The extra colors twinkled in the treetops calling to…something. She glanced down at the pair on the ground. The woman had stopped trembling, her eyes transfixed on the window where Carissa stood.
Ryker’s gaze oozed hatred, and if she wasn’t mistaken, held the slightest hint of fear. Carissa felt her lips curve, the smile sinister upon her face. The tree branches began to sway, their motions in time to the music in her mind, swelling, cresting, filling her soul.

  The colors sparked with blinding brilliance as birds of every shape, color, and size alighted from the trees, as if from slingshots. Their chirps rose in a deafening crescendo that even Carissa could hear through the nearly soundproof glass. They rode her fury as deadly arrows, aiming for the arrogant werewolf, whose eyes were as wide as saucers. Feathers flew as they pelted the arms he raised to cover his head. The woman took off running through the woods as the birds continued their assault. Pecking, clawing, ramming, and biting—the birds tore into Ryker’s skin as if he were made of bread.

  With a roar, his body contorted, bones rearranging, as he shifted, smacking at the feathered bullets that were aiming, unerringly, at his skull. Blood matted the tawny fur of his wolf, and his eyes blazed red with hatred when he looked again in her direction. Carissa closed her fist against the glass, and the ground rumbled. The wolf fell back on his haunches as a dozen bucks with massive antlers stampeded from the trees. They surrounded the wolf, who threw his head back and howled for help.

  Carissa raised her hand to the side of her head, suddenly dizzy. The room swirled around her, with her fury dissipating in a silvery plume of smoke. The world tilted beneath her feet, and she collapsed on the ground. The tingling ceased, and the warmth faded from her hand as her head hit the floor. Everything went black as one last thought flitted through her mind—I hope those deer gutted your black heart, you son of a bitch.

  Chapter Forty

  When Carissa woke, she was unsurprised to find herself back in the bed with her hands tied to the bedposts. Gwen walked toward her on trembling legs. Carissa glared at her sister.

  “What are you afraid of? I told you I would behave, and I am.” She tugged on the ropes for emphasis, digging new welts into her wrists. “It’s not like I can do anything like this, anyway.”

  Gwen’s mouth fell open. “We didn’t think you could do anything from a locked room, either.”

  Carissa raised an eyebrow, and temporarily ceased her struggles. “What are you talking about?”

  Her sister pressed a damp cloth to her neck. “You don’t remember what just happened? The attack on Ryker? Anything?”

  She strained her mind, shaking her head. “The last thing I remember was standing in front of the window, looking out at the night.” She screwed up her eyes, trying to recall what happened afterward, but there was nothing but darkness. She glared at her sister. “If y’all wouldn’t keep drugging me, I would know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  Gwen pulled the cloth back, and Carissa caught a glimpse of blood. She gasped. “Why the fuck am I bleeding?”

  Her sister slunk away from her, eyes wide with fear. “I-I don’t know. When I found you on the floor, you weren’t conscious. I thought you hit your head, but the only injury I saw was the bloodsucker’s mark on your neck. It had opened and was bleeding.”

  Carissa gritted her teeth. “That bloodsucker has a name. It’s Aden. Use it.”

  Gwen shook her head. “I-I will not. It’s unholy. He’s unholy! You can’t mate with a vampire, Rissa!”

  “Well, I can’t fall in love with a hairy, brutish, werewolf, either!” Carissa scoffed, “So you might as well hang that idea up while you’re at it!”

  Gwen took another step back, sucking in a breath. Her eyes darted around with worry. “You can’t talk like that! You have to mate with Ryker. Daddy will be furious if you don’t. Don’t you realize what’s at stake, here?”

  Curious about what her sister would say, Carissa mumbled, “No.”

  Gwen smiled sympathetically, the corners of her mouth barely moving upward. “How much do you know of our history?”

  Carissa frowned. Other than the emails she wasn’t going to tell anyone about, she never got a chance to read more of the files on Ryan’s computer, and her nana had only talked about mating.

  “Not much,” she grumbled.

  Gwen took a seat next to her on the bed, finally relaxing. “Well, it all began with Lilith—you know who Lilith was, right?” Carissa nodded, and her sister smiled again. “Okay, well, Lilith created a race of unholy bloodsucking demons who would spend every night preying on innocent humans. God saw this, and decided to make a race of wolves with the power to shift into humans at will. Legend has it these shifters never graced the Garden of Eden, therefore came into the world already knowing right from wrong, and under His divine guidance, chose a path of goodness and protection.

  “Some of the Lord’s blessed wolves took on the human shape permanently, shifting at will, becoming three times as large as a normal wolf—a talent that has, unfortunately been forfeited over the course of time. They, along with various other were-creatures, spent many centuries defeating the bloodsucking plague until the evil beings finally went into hiding, somewhere around the birth of Christ. Humans and were-s lived in harmony for quite some time until, in the middle of the fourteenth century, a sorcerer decided to meddle in the black arts. He created his own race of werewolves, smaller than the ones God created, but still mighty in their own right. Unfortunately, his dabbling also resulted in a new race of bloodsuckers, which adopted the name vampire in homage to their creator, Lord Rolf de Vampeer.” Gwen paused then, frowning.

  Carissa bit her lip. If this story was headed where she thought it was, her nana’s explanation made a lot more sense. She narrowed her eyes at her sister. “If you’re about to tell me this is all about preserving our species, you can forget about it. Garrett already told me, and I. Don’t. Care.”

  Gwen’s jaw dropped. “But you have to care, Rissa! The only God-sanctioned were-s left in the world are here and in Texas. We are the only ones with a clear view of what is right and wrong, and although the humans no longer know it, they depend on us for their protection. We have to keep them safe from the vampires. That is our sacred duty, and you cannot deny what God has decreed.”

  Carissa focused her gaze on the ceiling. She didn’t believe for one second that God would require His followers to force couples to mate simply for the expansion of the species. Besides, if that was truly what God wanted, she wouldn’t have such strong feelings for Aden. A tear escaped to trickle down her cheek. Will I ever see him again? Will I ever have the opportunity to tell him how I feel?

  Her sister patted her on the arm, completely mistaking the purpose of her tears. “It’s really okay, Rissa. I’m sure, in time, you’ll come to love Ryker just as much as I love Rafe.”

  Carissa looked at her, then. “You’re wrong,” she whispered, “There’s only room in my heart for one.”

  Gwen smiled. “I know,” she said, again misunderstanding, “but Ryker looks just like his brother. Surely you will eventually love him just as much as Ryan.”

  Carissa shook her head. “You don’t understand, Gwen. I’ll never love Ryker. Never.”

  “You don’t know that!” Her sister jumped to her feet. “I didn’t think I would ever love Rafe, either, but it happened. It’ll happen for you, too. Werewolves really don’t make bad mates. You’ll see.”

  On a sigh, Carissa blinked back more tears. “No,” she said softly, “I won’t. You see, it’s not because he’s a werewolf—I am, too. It’s not even because he’s an arrogant, abusive, jerk. It’s because I refuse to give my heart when it’s already taken.”

  Gwen sighed. “Ryan is dead, Rissa.”

  Carissa’s eyes flashed clear as she pinned her sister with a steely stare. “I was never in love with Ryan, Gwen.”

  Her sister backed up, her hand over her heart. “What are you saying?” she whispered.

  Carissa smiled. “I will never love the werewolf, because my heart belongs to a vampire.”

  Aden waited impatiently for the moon to rise. He had a plan, but he also had yet to know if it was a good one. The first step
would be to take out the slayer. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but on the same hand, the Vampire Council employed some of the corrupted sorcerer-created werewolves, and they wanted him dead. He wasn’t about to let that happen—not when his second step was to rescue the woman he loved. He hopped into the shower at twenty minutes to eight, and made short work of getting dressed and prepared. Unfortunately, he found Daniel in his living room when he exited his bedroom. It took skill to keep his distrust to himself, but Aden thought he did pretty well.

  “What’s up, Daniel?”

  The older vampire leaned his hip on the edge of the couch. “Nothing for me. What about you? Have you found out anything new?”

  Aden mimicked his mentor’s movement while leaning against the wall. “Yeah. I found another slayer, and he’s staying in the same hotel as the last one.”

  “Do you have some sort of plan?” Daniel raised an eyebrow, looking him over from where he stood. “Since it looks like you wanted to go without backup.”

  Aden pulled the potion from his pocket, tossing it from hand-to-hand. “Yeah. I’ve got this.” He smirked. “Probably wouldn’t hurt to have something a bit more concrete, though.”

  Daniel stood up straight and gestured for Aden to follow him to the kitchen. “You’re right. It probably wouldn’t.” Daniel sat down at the table. “Give me a piece of paper and a pen. I’ll draw up something, so we aren’t going off half-cocked.”

  Aden grabbed notebook and a pen from the desk in his living room that he never used, and brought it back to his mentor. He still suspected Daniel was hiding something major, but at the moment, he had no choice but to trust him. He could be sure, at least, that his friend wasn’t leading them into a situation that would lead to their death—traitor or not, Daniel wasn’t courting death any more than Aden was.