BLOODLUST

by Phoenix Daniels

  “She’ll be back. Just wait,” he told her.

  Margo sat down and waited like she was told, but she didn’t possess the virtue of patience. The five minutes that went by felt like hours. The half-hour that went by felt like days. Then, with a sharp inhalation of oxygen, she finally woke. Her eyes flew open in a panic. Gideon swept her up and pulled her in his arms.

  “You’re okay,” he whispered.

  He whispered.

  “You’re okay. I’m here, darlin’. I’m here.”

  Margo sighed with relief when Enola calmed. Behind them came a chorus of sighs. Enola raised her head from Gideon’s chest. Margo studied her, double-checking to see if she was alright. Enola gazed at her through tears.

  “I saw them,” she breathed. “I saw them.”

  Margo studied her cousin through squinted eyes.

  “Who? Who did you see, Nola?”

  A tear ran down her cheek onto Gideon’s arm.

  “I saw em all,” she revealed before passing out.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  MARGO

  Since her mother rode back with Gideon and Enola, Margo traveled in the other direction. Once she was allowed through the gate, she sped down the road to the house. She parked in front, jumped out of the car, and ran to the door. It wasn’t locked, but that didn’t surprise her. Who the hell was going to break into a house full of vampires? Just Margo.

  Vampires looked at her like she was crazy as she ran through the foyer. She didn’t see Bishop when she reached the living room.

  On her way to the parlor, Margo ran into Basile- literally ran into him. She bounced off his body, but he caught her before she fell.

  “I’m sorry,” Margo apologized, out of breath.

  Basile held her up by her shoulders.

  “Is everything alright?” he asked.

  “Yes. Is Bishop-.”

  “I’m here.”

  Margo looked past Basile’s shoulder. Bishop was behind him with a worried look on his face. Margo pulled away from Basile and ran to Bishop. He cocooned her in his arms.

  “What is it, chéri? What’s happened?”

  Margo didn’t respond. She just held him tight. She was still freaking out about what she witnessed in the woods and what Enola said about seeing their grandmother, her Aunt Olivia, and Auriette Moreau.

  To Margo, Voodoo was about spirituality, spells, and herbal healing. She’d been around it her entire life, but it was getting to be too much. Too many rivals, too much magic, and too many creatures. It was scary. Yet, there she was, hiding in the arms of probably the scariest being of them all.

  Bishop didn’t ask again if she was okay. He just lifted her in his arms and carried her away. He carried her out the back door, across the lawn, until they were entering his rainforest. With little effort, he carried her up the stairs. Soon he was gently laying her on his bed, he slid in beside her and pulled her in his arms.

  They lied quietly until a knock on the door tore through the silence.

  “Come!” he commanded gruffly.

  Basile stuck his head inside. In French, he told Bishop that Beth had arrived. Margo’s French was bad, but not that bad. She understood enough to feel the sting of jealousy.

  Bishop responded with, “Merci.”

  Basile left and closed the door. Bishop moved to get up, but Margo held him, preventing him from leaving. He looked down at her with confusion.

  “You’re not going,” she declared.

  Bishop sighed and looked down at her.

  “Marguerite, I’ve had a long day, and haven’t fed.”

  Margo shook her head. “You’re not sucking on her.”

  Bishop raised a brow. He seemed perplexed by her protest.

  “I’m sorry, chéri. It’s her or you.”

  After everything Margo had witnessed, how bad could a bite be? It wasn’t like she hadn’t been bitten before. That biter didn’t have fangs. For Margo, it was simple. She didn’t want Bishop sucking on another woman. She knew she didn’t have a claim on him, and she had no right to tell him what to do, but it worth a try.

  “It’s me,” she responded in a tiny voice.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he prodded.

  Margo cleared her throat.

  “I said it’s me,” she repeated with conviction.

  Bishop pushed her on her back and climbed over her. He turned serious, looking her directly in the eye.

  “I need you to understand something, Marguerite. Feeding on you would differ greatly from feeding on Beth. I want you. I want you very much. And I need you to understand that when I taste you, you will belong to me... and only me.”

  Margo wanted him too. She didn’t want him to be with anyone else. That, she didn’t need to think about. So, Bishop’s days of sucking on other women were over.

  Bishop hovered over her, studying her through a squint. It was as if he was trying to read her mind.

  “I don’t want you to do anything you-.”

  Margo rolled her eyes.

  “Oh, my God. Would you shut up and eat me,” she fussed playfully.

  Bishop’s lips curled into a sexy smirk. He lowered until his soft lips brushed hers. A gentle moan against Margo’s lips drew an instant reaction. His tongue, licking hers, sent jolts of need to every nerve ending. Her nipples perked, sensitive even to the soft material of the white garment she was wearing.

  Margo melted into the kiss, relishing the feel of his mouth making love to hers. Soon it was she, who was moaning against his lips. The beat of her heart seemed to have moved between her thighs.

  Margo groaned when Bishop pulled his lips from hers. He kissed along her jaw and then her neck. As he peppered her neck with tender kisses, she held her breath and prepared herself for the bite. But it never came. Bishop grabbed the hem of the white smock and pulled it up. He moved downward as if he was preparing to eat her pussy, but Margo grabbed his head and pulled him back up.

  “Hey!” she squealed. “I said you can feed off me. I didn’t say you could eat me out. I thought you were gonna bite my neck.”

  Bishop’s brows knitted as he looked on, confused by her rejection.

  “Bishop, I have been rolling around in the dirt all night!”

  Margo waved her hand over the dress.

  “You see how dirty this shit is! I need to wash my ass!”

  She pushed him off and jumped out of the bed. On her way to the bathroom, she added, “And you need to change them sheets.”

  Margo could feel the heat from Bishop’s glare burning into her.

  “Well... watch your mouth!” he barked at her back.

  GIDEON

  Gideon glanced back at the house, tempted to go back inside. He’d put his wife to bed and left her in Ruby’s care. Leaving her was hard, but necessary. He and his brother had urgent business to attend to.

  “Gideon!” Gabriel prodded.

  Gideon reluctantly climbed into Gabriel’s pickup truck. When he looked over at his twin, he was smiling.

  “What are you smiling about?”

  “The afterlife.”

  Gabriel raised the volume and rocked back and forth to Blake Shelton’s ‘Happy Anywhere’. Gideon frowned and lowered the volume.

  “Gabe, what the hell are you talking about? And why are you so goddamn giddy?”

  Gabriel slammed on the brakes and looked over at him. His smile disappeared and there was a world of emotion in his eyes.

  “She saw her, Gideon. Enola saw her- spoke to her. My love, my beating heart, she lives on in the afterlife.”

  There was a time when all Gideon wanted was for his brother to move on - to find happiness. Watching his brother suffer for so many years was nothing short of torturous.

  Auriette Moreau was the love of Gabriel’s life, and for more than a century, he mourned. She consumed his every thought, even invaded his dreams. Gideon also mourned; with his brother, and for his brother. Because when Auriette died, she took a big piece of Gabriel with her.

/>   “Here’s the thing, brother... Auriette is waiting in the afterlife, which means I will see her again.”

  Gideon looked on with confusion. He had no idea where the conversation was going.

  “Gideon, everything must die. So, until then... I can live.”

  Gabriel chuckled and slapped him on the arm.

  “I can live!”

  His brother was so happy that Gideon was hesitant to ask him what it all meant. So, he kept quiet and turned up the volume. For the entire ride, Gabriel bobbed his head to country music.

  When they pulled in front of their hotel, Boone was waiting. They climbed out and walked over to him. Gideon read the look on his face. He recognized it. It was the look of a wolf who was ready to tear through flesh.

  Boone turned and entered the hotel. Gideon and his brother followed. Gabriel’s joyful grin had disappeared as they strode through the lobby. After a few halls, a private elevator, and a secret set of stairs, they were entering a place they called, “The Pit.” The Pit was a dark chamber of horrors where they settle grievances with their enemies.

  Gideon walked over to the cell that was holding the creature that went by the name, Emma. Chained to the wall by her wrists and feet, blood and sweat trickled down her face. Physically, she was tattered, but in her eyes, Gideon saw defiance and hatred. Alice must have worked her over well.

  Emma must have thought she could come to town and post herself at Margo’s restaurant without being noticed. Gideon was notified the moment she arrived. While she was watching Margo, they were watching Emma. But with his wife’s evil twin running around Louisiana, Bishop couldn’t risk losing sight of a potential enemy.

  “What did you get?” he asked Alice without looking away from the prisoner.

  “Nothing. She won’t say a word.”

  “I will to you,” the prisoner rasped. “I don’t talk to the help.”

  With a salacious grin, Emma looked from Gideon to Gabriel.

  “The two of you really are quite handsome,” she purred “Oh, the things I would do to you both.”

  “Maybe later,” Gideon quipped.

  He grabbed a chair from a corner and dragged it in front of the cell. He sat, crossing one leg over the other.

  “I can smell your wolf, but there’s more. What exactly are you?”

  Her smile evaporated, and disgust marred her face.

  “I am nothing!” she spat. “I am neither wolf nor vampire.”

  Cassius, a young wolf, approached Gabriel and whispered in his ear. Which made absolutely no sense in a room full of wolves. Now, they all knew that the vampire Basile had arrived. Gideon returned his attention to the female.

  “If you’re not a wolf or a vampire, what are you?” he asked.

  “I am a science experiment; a lab-created monstrosity.”

  Gideon exhaled a frustrated breath. He was losing his patience.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  She closed her eyes and groaned as if she were bored.

  “It means, Mr. Big Bad Alpha... I am both. I am and wolf and vampire.”

  Gideon frowned and turned to his brother, who was just as surprised. A hybrid? They’d lived a long time, and crossed paths with many beings. But in all their years, Gideon and Gabriel had never even heard of such a creature- never even a rumor. Gideon turned back to the female.

  “How is that possible?”

  “Witches,” she hissed. “I was a vampire, sired by the vampire warlock, Bartholomew Batiste.”

  With a wicked grin, Emma turned to Gabriel. “Your mortal enemy, if I’m correct.”

  Maybe she thought she would get a rise out of him, but she got nothing. If the hybrid knew his brother like Gideon did, she’d know that Gabriel was too disciplined to react to such petty provocation.

  “When your wife murdered him, the witches imprisoned me. They continually performed experiments on me until they turned me into this.”

  Gideon shrugged.

  “Then your beef is with the witches. Why are you surveilling Margo?”

  “No!” she screamed.

  The hybrid fangs descended. Her eyes turned dark and murderous.

  “Your wife... that Voodoo bitch killed my maker! He was all the family I had in this world!”

  Gideon stood and put the chair back where he got it from.

  “How sad for you,” he muttered before leaving.

  The stupid woman had to know that making his wife a target ensured that she would never leave The Pit alive.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  BISHOP

  “Yes, Bishop! Umm!”

  Bishop closed his eyes and grabbed Marguerite’s ass. She was straddling him with quivering thighs, riding him like a prize bull. Her wet pussy was choking his cock with every roll of her hips. Bishop drove into her from below, wanting nothing more than to explode in the deepest part of her womanhood.

  “Fuck!” she gasped.

  Marguerite was close. She leaned forward and dug her nails into his chest.

  “Oh, my G- Oh Bishop!”

  It was time. Without missing a stroke, Bishop flipped her over and powered into her until she was clawing his back. Marguerite screamed but wasn’t from pain. She was coming. Bishop gripped a handful of her thick locks and pulled her head back until he had access to her slender neck. As soon as her inner walls pulsed around his dick, he extended his fangs and pressed them to her neck.

  Marguerite flinched and inhaled a sharp breath when he pierced her skin. The first quirt of Marguerite’s warm blood on Bishop’s tongue was pure bliss. Sensing her fear, he created a diversion by lunging into her and fucking her through her orgasm.

  A carnal sigh escaping her lips was a green light for Bishop. He drank from her neck until he was satiated. And when he was done, he licked her wound to hasten her recovery.

  When Marguerite moaned and sank into the mattress, Bishop raised his head and looked down at her. She was breathing softly with her eyes closed. He pulled out and raised to his knees. Bishop looked down, inspecting her with a knitted brow.

  “Marguerite?” he called, caressing her face.

  Her eyes fluttered open for less than a second before closing again.

  “Hmm?”

  Her lazy response concerned Bishop.

  “Are okay?”

  “Yess,” she purred with a smile.

  “Are you sure?” he pressed.

  “Mm-hm. Lay down.”

  Bishop did as instructed and laid down. Pulling her to his chest, he held her in his arms. He laughed, concluding that Marguerite was going to be quite the handful.

  MARGO

  Margo twirled in front of the mirror and laughed.

  “Please, thank Vampire Barbie for the outfit, for me.”

  She was in pink, from head to toe. The pleated short fuchsia skirt and the soft pink blouse actually had a Prince-like ruffled collar. Margo tried hard to remember if she’d ever seen a female vampire in Bishop’s coven, dressed like a character from ‘Clueless’.

  “Her name is Paula,” Bishop corrected. “And I like it. You look sweet.”

  Margo grinned and walked over to him in borrowed pink pumps.

  “I have a hard time believing Paula didn’t have a pair of sweats in her wardrobe. So, I’mma assume that you had a hand in this bubble gum, schoolgirl outfit.”

  Bishop pulled her close. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her forehead. Like no man before him, he’d captured her attention. Margo had always characterized dating as boring and for a purpose. She was, after all, a woman with certain needs. Bishop fulfilled them all. And boring, he was not.

  He ran his thumb along the bite marks on her neck.

  “How is this?” he asked her.

  Initially, it hurt. She’s assumed it would feel like a shot with a hypodermic needle, but fangs are much thicker in width. So, it was much worse. But before Margo could change her mind and run, the pain dissipated.

  “It’s fine. Really, it’s not painful at all.”
>
  Bishop nodded.

  “It wouldn’t be painful. There are healing components in my saliva. But I meant something different. How do you feel about me feeding from you?”

  Margo took a step back and looked up at him.

  “How do you feel about me feeding from you?” She waggled her brows, referring to the blowjob she’d given him less than an hour before.

  Bishop chuckled. He grabbed her and pulled her body to his.

  “I’d feel even better about it if you fed more,” he quipped.

  “Mm-hm, I’m sure we can work out a way for you to earn that,” Margo muttered.

  She stepped out of his grasp and grabbed her purse. “But, right now, I gotta go. My mother said Nola is still out. She’s concerned.”

  Bishop nodded. “Basile is having your car brought around. I’ll walk you out.”

  They left the greenhouse and walked hand in hand across the grounds. Instead of walking around the house, Bishop walked through the house. He insisted that she grab a quick bite before leaving.

  They entered through the lanai went into the kitchen. The aroma of whatever was cooking on the stove lured her like the Pied Piper. There was a man stirring something in a large pot.

  “Smells delicious,” Margo complimented. “What is it?”

  He turned and smiled.

  “Gumbo,” a vampire standing at the stove said proudly.

  “Marguerite, meet Stinger. He’s a superb cook.”

  Stinger used a ladle and scooped out a good portion of gumbo. He poured it into a bowl and offered it to Margo. With nothing short of excitement, she took the bowl.

  “Be careful, Marguerite. It’s hot,” Stinger warned.

  Margo handled the hot bowl with care.

  “Thank you. Please, call me Margo.”

  He nodded. Margo took the bowl to the island in the center of the kitchen. Bishop handed her a spoon. Stinger waited with anticipation as she took the first sip of the roux. Without having to lie, Margo told him it was delicious. The color, the density, and flavor were spot on.

  Margo was hungrier than she’d thought. It took no time at all for her to devour the mixture of chicken, okra, and seafood. Stinger seemed pleased by her empty bowl.