Supernatural Seduction (Book 2 of the Coffin Girls Series)

by Supernatural Seduction (mobi)

  He had felt an uncomfortable stab in the vicinity of his heart, but it confirmed that what he was doing was right. She needed a simple, honest witch, like the tutor. As much as it made him want to kill the man, he was a much better match for her. Life with Sylvain would only cause her more pain. This mission was going to be hell. Sure, he was prepared for the girls and the fury he would feel at what they’d been put through. The hell was going to have to be so close to Sophie when all he wanted to do was keep her safe and not have her go into danger.

  xxx

  They stood among acres of wheat, nearly hidden by the long golden shafts. “This isn’t quite what I was expecting,” Sophie stated in surprise. Sophie and Sylvain, accompanied by his warriors, had been given the magickal coordinates of the girls’ location.

  Sylvain grinned, “Definitely not the bayou’s kind of nature.” He nodded his head towards the north. “There’s a farmhouse a few miles up the road.”

  Sophie looked baffled. How the heck did he see that? He was certainly taller than her, but he wasn’t a giant.

  Letting out a soft laugh, Sylvain leaned in and whispered, “Faery sight. We see things that others want to hide.” Moving closer to Sophie had been a mistake, even if it had been an involuntary action. Despite the space between them, he could feel the heat from her body sear him and evoke a myriad of memories he wanted forgotten. Cursing himself, Sylvain abruptly stepped back from her.

  Sophie swallowed. Clearing her throat, she croaked out the first thing that came to mind, “Good thing I’m wearing the proper shoes. Let’s go, then.”

  Sylvain felt his warriors hesitate, staring in confusion at Sophie. Resigned to his painful fate, he grabbed hold of Sophie’s arm to stop her. “No need to walk. We can fly. It’s quicker and will allow us to scope out the area.”

  He didn’t give her an opportunity to protest. He swept her in his arms, crushed her against his chest, and took to the sky.

  Sophie experienced that uneasy feeling of taking off from the ground without anything to steady you on. She had no choice, but to hold onto Sylvain - with a death grip. “I thought you said you didn’t have wings - like Tinker Bell.”

  Now Sylvain roared with laughter; sputtering instead of speaking as he struggled to get the words out.

  “Stop that,” Sophie admonished, “I don’t want to fall for freak’s sake.”

  “Sorry,” he grinned at her - not sorry at all. When she narrowed her eyes at him, he quickly deflected the angry bout, “Do I look like Tinker Bell?”

  Sophie looked past him towards where enormous, glistening wings sprouted from his back. Like his true form, they were beautiful. It was like looking at the watery-mist surrounding a waterfall as the sun reflected a multitude of colors off it. Despite their fragile appearance, the wings whipped powerfully through the air, carrying them both.

  “Okay,” Sophie acknowledged, “not Tinker Bell. But definitely pretty.”

  “Warms my heart to hear you call me pretty,” Sylvain’s lips curved roguishly at her. “I’d prefer handsome or dashing but I can live with pretty.”

  It was one of the many masks of Sylvain, Sophie noted. The jovial fae prince was back - flirting and teasing in order to keep things going. The reticence she’d felt earlier was still there, but exceptionally well hidden beneath his current façade. She could, for the sake of the mission, and their friendship, go along with this. “You know darned well that’s not what I meant,” Sophie muttered. “Why didn’t you tell us you could fly?”

  “There wasn’t any reason to,” he shrugged. “There is much that I can do but just because I can, doesn’t mean that I always do it. And because I can see you’re going to ask it, the answer is no. I’m not keeping secrets - at least not from you guys. I’ve lived millennia, Sophie, there’s a lot I’ve seen, a lot I’ve learned, so swapping social stories about my background will take a long time to tell. I just let things roll and go with it - it’s easier that way.”

  The mask had momentarily slipped and in its place was sincerity. It was unexpected given their not too distant parting. But, the sky was not the place to probe, so she remained quiet until their descent and surveyed their surroundings. She saw the farmhouse that Sylvain had seen and sighed with relief. Unfortunately, with the relief came a lessening of her anxiety and an increase in awareness of his close proximity. She looked up and caught his eye, the dark look clearly communicating that he knew what she was feeling. Feeling uncomfortable, Sophie wiggled, inadvertently rubbing herself against his chest. A strangled moan escaped him and she felt an odd mix of both irritation and satisfaction.

  “If you don’t want me to drop you, you better stop doing that,” Sylvain warned through clenched teeth.

  Sophie abruptly stopped and looked around, rebuking herself. They were there on a mission. Somewhere on this property were a group of girls who needed to be rescued. But she knew that they obviously had to talk before they could move on as friends. Sophie grudgingly admitted her naivety in thinking that she could break things off and they would go back to what they'd had. Now was not the time to have that chat though.

  They landed softly, easily; taking refuge behind a row of trees that served as a fire barrier. Sylvain’s fae warriors, gorgeous specimens of manhood in their own right, came towards them. Sylvain's, demeanor was serious, and it showed her another side of him as he discussed their strategy with his men. He was an admirable leader. It was clear that they listened to him and respected him because he showed them the same courtesy and considered their input as much as they did his. Still, it was he that led - they’d followed him here unquestionably, going in blindly as Anais had not been able to identify the details of this environment - only its location.

  With him leading, Sylvain started towards the farmhouse. There were a number of buildings scattered around in what seemed to be a haphazardly manner - tall, wide, metal, wood, lop-sided, and straight. It was a picker’s haven. Sophie could just imagine the antique hunters that would descend on this place like mad in a bid to find hidden treasures among the heaps of junk. Heaps was perhaps inadequate to describe the sheer amount of stuff lying around, though junk seemed apt. Rusted pieces of metal, old cars that looked as though they wished they’d been taken to the scrap yard littered the yard along with fairground rides and an honest-to-Goddess steam engine. The buildings themselves were bursting at the seams.

  “Dieu!” exclaimed Sophie. “I don’t think we could find anything in this mess. Do you think that was the plan?”

  “Possibly,” Sylvain agreed. “Although, a bit of the right magick can fix this. More likely this place was chosen because it is eccentric - even madness to some. Humans tend to steer clear of peculiarity. This offers a good cover for vamps that don’t want to be stumbled upon.”

  “Your Majesty,” a warrior approached them. “The house is clear, but there’s something I think you should see.”

  Sylvain nodded and they followed him into the farmhouse. They found what he had referred to in the upstairs bedroom. Amidst thousands of stuffed animals, was the body of an elderly woman. The evidence of her gender was the visibility of one, torn breast that stuck out amongst the blood and tissue that comprised the remains of her body. A shotgun was clutched in one hand.

  “She must have heard them and tried to defend herself,” Sylvain said, gravely. He looked over to Sophie when she didn’t respond. Cursing and calling himself all kinds of fool, he gently spoke and probed until her eyes lost their glaze.

  Sophie came out of the trance and found Sylvain’s face etched with concern. “It’s okay,” she assured him. “It caught me off guard and I forgot to put up my shield.” Sophie shuddered.

  Silly girl, thought Sylvain, while admiring her bravery. It was precisely this type of reaction he feared. It could lead to death. Sylvain gave her a way out, “I’ve had enough of this room. Why don’t we go to the kitchen, Sophie? I could use a drink.” He gave orders for the room to be magickally scanned then cleaned of any signs of the murder. Ther
e was no point in drawing the attention of human law enforcement.

  “That was a really nice thing for you to do,” Sophie said as she sat down at the pine table. Inwardly she was grateful for the seat and the fiery spirits Sylvain handed to her. Drinking in the pluck the whisky offered, even if it was false bravado, she allowed herself a moment, and then faced him. “I saw her death in there - every moment of it. She was a widow and had just gone to bed after kissing her husband’s photograph goodnight. They pretty much came straight in after that. Like they were waiting for her to be at her calmest, her most relaxed before they unleashed their horrors upon her. They meant for her to get as big a fright as possible and they meant for her to fight back. They ripped at her flesh, drinking from her as they did egging her on to fight back so she wouldn’t die from shock and would see what they did to her.” Sophie took a deep breath, unable to help the shudder that went with it or the red-tinged tear that escaped her eyes, “I could feel what she felt, and it was everything they wanted - fear, rage, horror. But, what broke her was when one of the fuckers threw the picture of her husband on the ground and urinated on it. That’s when she gave up; she lost the will to live or fight.”

  “And, I imagine she found that she wanted to go to her husband too, Sophie,” Sylvain interrupted. “Perhaps her death was horrific, but her last moment was one of peace and fulfillment? A kind of acceptance?”

  Sophie smiled poignantly, “Yes, you’re right. It was fleeting, but I felt it. For a few seconds, she was emotionally separated from her body. The pull to join her husband was so strong that she no longer felt them feeding on her or what was happening around her. That’s when she died. You’re right,” Sophie repeated, sitting up a bit straighter, “we don’t see in her mangled face, but I feel her smile in her last moments. That’s it. I didn’t get much more than their original malice and her reactions.” Her voice took on a deadly, determined calm. “We need to find them before they do this to someone else.”

  “And we will, Sophie,” Sylvain said, gently taking her hand in his and squeezing. “I promise.”

  “I’ve heard that the fae don’t make promises lightly, but even if I didn’t know that, I’d believe you. Merci, Sylvain.” After all, a voice sneaked in, he couldn’t promise to love you and didn’t. He is nothing if not honorable.

  “I’m grateful, Sophie, that at least, in that, you trust me.” Sylvain got up from the table and moved towards the kitchen door. “There are a few hours of daylight still left. We have to find the witches before dark. Are you okay to come with? If you’re not, it is understandable, you know? You’ve basically just relived someone’s death as though it were your own.”

  Sophie saw, heard, and felt the absence of judgment and was glad for it. The smile she gave him was heartfelt, “Merci again for your kindness, but I’ll be fine. I need to do this.”

  Sylvain nodded, comprehending her intentions, and led the way out the door.

  xxx

  “Anais, there’s no one here - no sign of vamps, humans or witches,” Sylvain had called her the human way, via mobile. “Okay, we’ll do one more sweep, and then call it quits.”

  Dragging his hand through his hair in frustration, he eyed the sky. Soon it would be dusk and time for vampires to rise. Just because there was no sign of them now, didn’t mean that they weren’t on their way. Vampires neither scared him nor his warriors and Sophie, being one of them, would be okay. But, they didn’t know what might be coming - one or fifty. The fae were powerful and could hold their own, but the old adage of powers in numbers held true for a reason. Another adage, ‘to fail to plan is to plan to fail’ came to mind. He never went into battle without a workable strategy. That they didn’t have one now worried him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong.

  He looked at Sophie, who had compressed her cherry reds into a thin line again, a habitual activity she employed when anxious. He fought the instinct to kiss them until they plumped up. “Sophie, Anais is adamant that we’re in the right place.” At her look of bafflement, he tipped his head in understanding, “I know. I don’t see how they could be here either. We’ve literally ‘cleaned house’, and then put the mess back and found nothing. Not even a sign that they'd even been here.”

  “There is one more way,” Sophie stated. “We can combine magick and use your sight and my empathy to see if we can pick up anything. How about we use your empathy skills to see if you can pick up on any emotions from them?”

  Seeing no other way around it, Sylvain conceded. Sophie nearly sighed in relief. She wanted to find the witches as badly as she wanted to get out of here - though she’d never let on. “Okay,” Sophie said eagerly, “let’s do this.”

  Sophie quickly regretted her encouragement of urgency when Sylvain swept her up and again took her into flight. “Jeez - you ever gonna give me a warning when you do that?”

  Sylvain’s lips curved devilishly. “Would it make a difference?”

  Sophie shook her head from side to side.

  “I didn’t think so,” he replied, smugly.

  Despite the elevated position, Sophie managed a satisfying thump against his arm and was rewarded with a scowl. “What did you do that for?” He demanded to know.

  “You irritated me,” she glared back.

  “You’re becoming feisty,” he teased. “It’s only been a few days since you left the hollow.”

  “Yeah, well, I learned more than I bargained for while I was there.” Sophie shrugged, ignoring the flash of hurt she saw in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” Sylvain said, gruffly. He went quiet, ignoring her while circling the farmhouse and surrounding area.

  She’d touched a nerve, Sophie realized. Her bitchy retort was unlike her, but then again, she had been showing more of her emotions lately and whilst not ignoring those of others, she did not feel the strong need to take responsibility for them anymore. Dieu! This mission could not have come at a worse time - throwing her and Sylvain together like this. Jotting the latest issue on the list of items parked, she brought herself back to their duty. Taking deep, calming breaths, she sent herself to the place within her and opened up her third eye that enabled her to see beyond the obvious. Then, using the core of magick within some deep place inside, she again shielded against all, but the intent to find the witches amongst the rubble-strewn grounds below. Sylvain took her to each building, allowing her to methodically search and dismiss.

  Again, the agony hit her, making her lose her grasp on Sylvain’s waist and she fell. Vertigo hit, nausea bubbled in her throat, and then he caught her. She made to thank him, but couldn’t speak. Before she knew it, Sylvain’s mouth was on hers. What the heck?! But oddly enough, the kiss was mechanical, not intimate in the least, and as quickly as his mouth descended it left. Darn but she felt better - no nausea, no dizziness remained.

  Sylvain leaned down and whispered, “Don’t be disappointed, Sophie. That kiss was only meant to heal, not entice. Ever wondered where the saying, ‘kiss it better’ came from?”

  Sophie cleared her throat, ignoring the hot feeling in her cheeks. “Merci,” she mumbled.

  Sylvain cleared his throat. “I gather you’ve located them.”

  “Yes,” Sophie replied, “they’re in the house.”

  Sylvain raised a brow in surprise, “We’ve swept through the entire house, a number of times.”

  “Yes,” Sophie reiterated, “If it is Ayden’s magick then even digging up the entire place won’t reveal them. We’ll need to fight magick with magick.”

  Sylvain nodded. “Time to combine our magick.”

  Chapter 14

  Sophie prepared to cast a circle of protection. Sylvain stopped her. “No need for that. All we need with fae magick is intent. Think of what it is you want and when I link my hands with yours, I’ll send some magick to you.”

  Placing her hands in Sylvain’s, she focused on the young witches and the need to find them. At her nod, she felt a frisson of energy warm her hand
s. Looking at Sylvain, she noted that he was watching her closely, testing to see if she'd received it well. She nodded again to indicate that he could allow more. And then she got the shock of her life! Literally.

  Sophie was grateful that he held her hands because the magick shot through her system like an electric shock. Only Sophie doubted that an electric shock could feel so pleasant. She felt euphoric; happier than she’d ever been in her life. It made their ‘shocks’ of when they touched seem like the poorer cousin to this.

  Blue eyes met bluer as they both regarded each other in surprise. The magick connecting them progressed from splendid to intimate. Sophie felt as though a thousand hands were sweeping over her body in whisper-soft caresses; touching and teasing. Response to it was futile to resist as an unknown force drew her closer towards Sylvain. Gently, tentatively, their lips met, cementing the ecstasy that was forming in the pit of her belly. Sophie sighed into his mouth and pulled his head closer, the satin threads of his hair erotically tickling her fingers. Heady desire replaced all thought of their break up. They forgot where they were and even their purpose for being there. With his hands framing her face and hers still in his hair, they gave up everything to that kiss.