Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series)

by Supernatural Seduction (mobi)

  “Jeez, Miss Suzette,” Sophie admonished playfully. Miss Suzette’s tongue might be sharp, but her heart held a place for each of them. “I don’t need a man. I’m quite happy with the family I have.”

  “Every beautiful woman needs a man, Sophie, and you certainly fit that description,” Sylvain stated, factually, as he entered the kitchen.

  “And a good morning to you, Sylvain, or don’t you know how to properly greet someone? Or is sticking your nose in other people’s business your way of saying ‘hi’?” Sophie responded sarcastically. She really didn’t need Mr. Smooth’s dissembling flattery this early in the morning and especially not this morning. She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d told them of his sister. A part of her felt guilty at her bitchiness, but she didn’t have the energy to hide the myriad of emotions he sparked within her.

  Sylvain regarded her with astonishment. Sophie was the sweet, gentle, and caring one and her waspishness was unusual. And then he noted the dark circles under her eyes—another anomaly. Sophie had an ethereal beauty to her. Nearly elfin in looks with huge, slanted blue eyes. He’d often wondered how dark those blues got in her moments of passion. Her long, golden hair that carelessly tangled at her waist had tempted him to break his promise of distance countless times as he itched to run his fingers through it. He noted her lips pressed together in the fashion of a displeased school marm. The action prompted his desire to nibble the cherry-reds apart.

  Sophie must have sensed his desire because she looked up at him in sudden surprise. Damn! He’d momentarily forgotten that she was an empath. Shielding his emotions, he sat down at the chair opposite her and accepted the steaming mug of coffee Miss Suzette handed him. He sneaked a glance at Sophie and saw her brows knitted in confusion followed by a shake of her head. He’d gotten the result he wanted; she obviously thought that she’d imagined what he’d felt. Feeling like a lecher, he made up for it by flattering Miss Suzette—Miss Suzette was a safe bet. The voodoo priestess might be a chronological infant compared to his immortal age, but was biologically much older and as such, saw herself as the mother of the household and its guests. Her resulting brusque, yet loving maternal manner was another attraction of this home, and contributed to his continued visits to Papillion Plantation.

  “Miss Suzette,” Sylvain called out after taking a sip of the heavenly taste of the New Orleans styled caffeinated milk beverage. “If I was a younger man, you wouldn’t stand a chance. I wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  To Sophie’s disgusted embarrassment, Miss Suzette tittered like a teenager. “Oh, go on with you,” Miss Suzette swatted the air in Sylvain’s direction, “I know a player when I see one.”

  “I prefer V’s term for him,” Sophie interjected, “man-whore." Sophie mentally admonished herself for the verbal slip. He might be a flirtatious gigolo, but he was also their friend and had helped them eagerly, on many occasions. Most recently, when he caringly served them warm blood and most notably when he’d fought alongside them in a battle that had little to do with him. But, he also had the tendency to get all sorts of rises out of her—including the scintillating kind that she didn’t need or want. As Prince of Fae, he was used to women falling at his feet and not just to bow or curtsy or whatever the fae term was for subjugation. Nope they literally threw themselves at him. If he'd been unattractive, she could put it down to them gold-digging, but no, he had to go and look like a flippin' movie star with his honey-colored hair and those gorgeous baby blues of his. She’d argued many times with herself that she'd found him so attractive, because he was so different from her late husband. He wasn’t as handsome or as brawny as Pierre had been, but he was devilishly, ‘naughty boy’ gorgeous with a body that was toned and sylph-like in grace.

  Sylvain regarded Sophie again in surprise. She was definitely not in the best of moods as her eyes shot daggers at him while she sat in sullen silence. Instead of being irritated by it, he found it amusing and decided to give it a prod. “Ah, but then V could say that because she spoke from experience. You cannot, which is something that can most certainly be remedied ma petite chérie.” Sylvain noted her lips pressed in disapproval again at the mention of the kiss V and he had shared in front of their friends. The kiss had not been one that stemmed from lust, although it had been enjoyable. Sylvain had used the kiss as the quickest means of providing V with the secret to locating the bayou fae hollow. He’d literally transferred the information from tongue to tongue.

  When Sophie didn’t succumb to his goading, he pushed a bit further. “You get up on the wrong side of the bed, Sophie? Back to Miss Suzette’s earlier point, a beautiful woman, left long unattended by a man will succumb more easily to well … petulance. Maybe you should experience this man-whore for yourself. It might make you rise and shine instead of rise and screech.”

  Sophie observed Miss Suzette’s shoulders shake in silent laughter and bit out, “Miss Suzette, you might just as well let that out. I can see that you’re enjoying this.”

  “Well, boo,” Miss Suzette got out in between barks of laughter, “looks like you met your match. Someone to rattle you up a bit, and I’m darned if I can find fault with his argument.”

  Sophie glared at the woman she was usually fond of, then turned that glower onto Sylvain, unaware that her eyes had turned vampire red or that her pearly white fangs had descended from annoyance. “Sylvain,” she began in a venom-laced tone, “I do not need a man, and if I did, it would not be you. I do not date jackasses.”

  “What dating?” Miss Suzette grumbled quite audibly. “Haven’t seen any dating.”

  “Who said anything about dating? Surely you’re not still living in the colonial times? Ever heard of a one-night stand?” Sylvain countered. “I’m just talking about getting you out of your filthy mood with a good roll in the sheets.” Sylvain quirked an eyebrow in mock seriousness at her glare, “Bed doesn’t suit you? I’ll leave the choice of the environment to the lady - pleasurable release can be found in many ways and many places.”

  “For your information, Sylvain,” Sophie rose up majestically from the table, moving around it to tower over him where he sat nonchalantly sipping his coffee, “my mood has nothing to do with intimacy as you infer. I had a nightmare. One, which I was trying to forget, but by harping on about the cause of my ‘bad mood’, you’ve now, thankfully reminded me of it again. And,” Sophie barked, noticing the sudden concern that vibrated off the other woman, “you’ve got Miss Suzette worried about it too—something that irritates me even more.”

  As glad as Sylvain was at getting to the crux of her bad temper, he felt guilty knowing that he helped re-ignite the pain he saw flashing in her eyes. The pink-tinged tears that pooled in their depths nearly unhinged him. Fighting the urge to hold and comfort her, he dropped his shield a bit and let the concern he felt for her through. He also didn’t want her to think that he was the jackass she’d called him earlier. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I didn’t mean to cause you pain. I just wanted you to admit to what was bothering you. You’re always so poised and serene, but not this morning. As a friend, I was concerned.”

  Sophie ignored the tender apology and the care she felt coming from him. “Well, now you know. Mission accomplished,” she replied defensively.

  “No,” responded Sylvain stopping her from leaving, “my mission is not complete." Throwing caution to the wind, he took both her hands in his, disregarding the jolt of awareness. “I’m sorry I prompted a painful memory. You’re an empath Sophie, a largely untrained one. There are those amongst the fae who possess that gift, too. From what I’ve seen, if not properly managed, it can turn into a curse.”

  “You’re preaching to the converted here, Sylvain,” Sophie butted in.

  Sylvain nodded, “I’m aware of that.” Extending an arm out to hers, he requested, “Let me explain.” Sophie barely masked her agitation, but kept quiet. Taking that as a sign of acquiescence, he continued, “Nightmares are symptomatic of untutored empaths who have not yet learned how to cope
with all the negative emotions flooding them. I’m making assumptions here, but if that is the case, then it must be dealt with before it deals you.”

  “I’ve always had nightmares,” Sophie interjected, “but they do become more prominent during traumatic times.”

  “Let me guess,” Sylvain stated. “It’s the traumatic experiences of others that bring them up. The nightmares are so vivid they could be real and sometimes they dig up a past that you’d rather forget?”

  “How do you know?” Sophie asked.

  “I’ve been around for a long time, Sophie. I’ve seen and heard many things – I know a bit about empaths,” Sylvain shrugged, “Like I said, some of the fae have empathic abilities. It is necessary that I understand those that I lead. It was a wild guess that that was what was going on with you when I saw you this morning. I put two and two together, as they say.”

  Not one to be angry for long, Sophie sat down. She grudgingly admitted that what he said held some truth. Until two months ago, she’d lived in blissful ignorance with her vampire sisters. They’d all known that they weren’t the garden variety vampire because they could function fully in daylight, had to eat human food as well as feed on blood and had unexplained, decidedly non-vampire powers. Her empathic ability was one of those powers. Then along came Sylvain, Conall, and their friend, Niul. The entrance of those men in their lives had led to one misadventure after another until they’d ended up finding out that they all were in fact witch-vampires with untapped, untrained powers. They were a rarity within the paranormal world. Sophie had always known she had witch’s powers, because her mother had held the same. She also knew that her powers had never been honed, and that her mother would’ve seen to, if she hadn’t been so brutally massacred. But, she’d been under the assumption that when she’d turned vampire that the witch part of her had been laid to rest with the exception of some remaining empathic skills. If what Sylvain said was true, she needed to address the gap in her education. It wouldn’t take care of her past, but it might help her deal with the now. Dieu! The nightmares were torturous! After every occurrence, she felt physically and emotionally drained and exceptionally waspish. Curbing them would help. But how? How would she ‘deal with it', as he said?

  “I can see the wheels turning in that clever mind of yours,” Sylvain interrupted her thoughts. He caught the look of approval Miss Suzette threw his way and smiled back. The girls’ Cajun mama had been worried, too. “There’s no need to be overwhelmed, Sophie, because you don’t need to do this alone. I can easily arrange for Arianna to teach you. She’s the best empath we have in the bayou hollow. Plus, you already know her and have worked with her.”

  Sophie nodded slowly, her mind flicking back two months earlier when the fae sorceress, Arianna, had helped them rescue a group of captive witches. The young witches had been continuously drained for their magickal blood by a now disposed of malevolent vampire. Arianna was like the rest of the fae - beautiful and powerful. Just as Sylvain had worked with the other Coffin Girls, Arianna had worked, hand-in-hand, with Sophie when they’d teleported the rescued witches to safety. She had observed Arianna tirelessly tend to the traumatised girls. It was quite a feat for an empath as the painful emotions from the young witches could easily have crippled the empaths. Arianna had in fact, helped them deal with the emotional and psychological violations they’d experienced, using her empathic ability. She could hardly have a better teacher, Sophie mused.

  “Okay, I’ll accept your offer. Thank you.” Sylvain’s lips curved in a relieved smile. The smile shortly brushed away her thoughts of all empath matters and sent a bolt of awareness through her. Sophie bit her own lips in response. Mon Dieu! It would mean spending more time in the hollow, which meant seeing him more often. Flip!

  Chapter 4

  “Witches have used plants and herbs for magickal or medicinal purposes for as long as we’ve existed,” Sophie addressed the group of teenage girls, not-so-eagerly crowded around her at the entrance to the hothouse for their lesson in magickal herbology.

  The girls were scholars at the secret school for female witches and weres that the Coffin Girls had begun after they had been rescued. The school served to combine secular education with the teachings of the craft of magick to enable learners to care for themselves and more importantly, control their powers. Sophie had born witness to the fatal consequences that ignored or unknown powers could have on a witch’s physical body when her sister, Anais, had nearly died a few months ago.

  The school also provided a home for the girls. An ancient vampire had been using the girls as bloodstock - literally - to produce special, organized blood drinks; much in the same manner a vintner makes a fine wine. They’d managed to find the families of most of the captured young witches, but a few were orphaned. Most of their parents and siblings had been slaughtered when they'd been kidnapped. Some of the young she-weres had been held captive with the witches as their blood also contained magick, albeit a different kind. Other she-were learners were there because they were eager to learn and belonged to the pack led by their family friend and Miss Suzette’s nephew, Raulf.

  To curb the curiosity of the human co-inhabitants of the bayou and New Orleans, they presented the school as a hospitality academy for young girls, which fitted in nicely with their wedding planning business. Combining secular education with practical experience helped the girls learn skills that could aid them in their search for employment and thus enable their independence in the human world. Magick training added to that, made for a heavy curriculum, but it was the only approach available. Some of the girls held hopes of joining the Coffin Girls in their fight for the good, but they had to finish their education first and then undergo a test and trial period. The girls weren’t happy about it, but Anais had been firm, believing that the girls required education, choice, and the time to mature before committing to such a heavy burden.

  Glancing at them, Sophie could detect the myriad of emotions being emitted from them that she imagined good human teachers intuitively gaged from experience. Some wished to be anywhere, but in the hothouse. Others had their minds on another end goal - that of joining the Coffin Girls and avenging their parents. To them, this was a tick-box exercise, and then there were the odd few that actually wanted to apply their minds to magickal herbology.

  At their age, she had already been forcibly shipped across the ocean to New Orleans. She’d arrived as a young, virgin bride to a bleak future in a French colony far away from the only home she’d ever known. She knew that the majority of the girls would vehemently disagree, but she condoned Anais’ decision and wished that she’d had the same opportunities and choices presented to her.

  Hiding a grin when one of the girls visibly shuddered at a lingering spider trapped in a humidity-moistened web, she addressed them, “It’s not hocus-pocus, you know.”

  At the sceptical stares, she hid another grin, lips curving slightly in appreciation. Good, she could work with minds that wanted a challenge. “Ever heard of a homeopath?”

  “Aye,” answered one of the more eager girls. “It’s a doctor who studies natural substances such as plants, herbs, and spices to treat illness.”

  “And so it is, Mary,” Sophie replied. Then glancing over the rest of them, she focussed on the most sceptical of them all. “How do you think it differs from what we’re doing then?”

  The girl scowled, unhappy to be singled out. When Sophie didn’t let her off the hook, she shrugged, unperturbed outwardly, but Sophie’s vampire hearing picked up a thudding heart and her inner empath picked up an anxious, insecure little girl.

  “I guess,” replied the girl, “that I can see that it’s the same, but then the homeopath doesn’t use plants for magick, does he?”

  “He or she,” said Sophie, under her breath. Dieu, but even in this ‘enlightened’ age, the masculine was still automatically referred to.

  “What is magick, but the belief and will for something to change or remain the same? The sustainment of good heal
th or healing? Protection against harm or removing harm?” Sophie probed further.

  “So, you’re saying that even the homeopath uses magick?” asked the girl.

  “Perhaps and perhaps not. That depends on the practitioner. But they use natural substances to heal and the difference is that we add ‘oomph’ to our process by adding will, paying respect to the Goddess, and by calling on our natural talents, be it earth, air, water, or fire.”

  “So, we have a little something extra?” clarified one girl.

  “Yes,” affirmed Sophie. “That’s exactly it. But having magickal talent is not enough. You have to know what to use too, otherwise there is no ‘extra oomph’ as you put it. Think of peppermint.” Sophie handed out a fragrant, dark green leaf to each girl. “Smell it and tell me what you feel.”

  When each of the girls had a turn to share, Sophie nodded, lips curved gently in satisfaction. “Medicinally, drinking peppermint tea is known to arouse our senses and boost metabolism, while burning peppermint magickally is said to promote happiness in self and home. Now, I don’t know about you, but when I feel sluggish, I’m not that happy. Same plant. Similar end goal, but a different way of using it. I’m not saying that all plants have similar magickal and medicinal outcomes if used. Maybe in future these will be found when magick and medicine, or rather alchemy, meet each other once more, but for now, there are some that have similarities and others that don’t.”