BLOODLUST

by Phoenix Daniels

  “It’s time for us to take our seats.”

  “Okay.”

  Margo unbuttoned her chef coat and handed it to Bernard.

  “Thanks for everything,” she told him. “Thanks, everyone,” Margo repeated to the rest. “Great job!”

  She turned to Bishop. “I’m ready.”

  “Yes, but first...”

  Bishop stepped to the side, revealing a surprise. Margo’s mouth flew open at the sight of Beth’s bright smile.

  “Beth,” Margo breathed, rushing forward for a hug. “Oh, my God! Oh, Beth!”

  Tears pooled in Margo’s eyes as they hugged. Joy filled her.

  “It’s so good to see you, Margo,” Beth sighed.

  “It’s good to see you too. I thought you were dead,” Margo whispered.

  “I am,” Beth replied softly.

  ENOLA

  Enola looked around the table and smiled. Her family, along with some new friends, gathered for dinner at August, one of the fanciest restaurants in Louisiana. The area for private dining was called the Blue Room, but it wasn’t blue. The room was mostly gold and a velvety burgundy, with extremely French décor. Elegant china and flatware were strategically placed about, surrounding a fresh floral piece in the center.

  Enola leaned over and whispered to Gideon.

  “This is what we needed.”

  It had been three weeks since the battle on their front lawn, and Enola was still trying to put the pieces together. One minute, she was floating in an ancestral abyss. And the next, she was lost in darkness. Then she heard Margo’s voice in her head. As her cousin prayed for death, Enola followed her voice to a speck of light. Eventually, that tiny bit of light grew to an awakening.

  Enola woke to the sound of her family in agony. She had gotten into Vivienne’s head and learned that she was taking immense pleasure from torturing her own family. After destroying her army of witches and warlocks, Enola tried to appeal to Vivienne in her mind. She told her that the witches had brainwashed her, and she begged her to stop hurting her own family. But Vivienne was vile, hateful, and determined to kill them all.

  Vivienne hadn’t realized Enola had been chosen by their ancestors. They’d given her all of their collective powers and taught her how to use them. Vivienne was no match for Enola. She wasn’t even close. So, binding her magic was easy. On the other hand, killing her was not. Unlike Vivienne, Enola didn’t have it in her to kill her own sister- even if she was evil. So, she sent her on her way, powerless and alone.

  “Finally!” Gabriel blurted. “We’re starving here!”

  Enola looked up just as Margo and Bishop entered the room.

  “Sorry. My bad,” Margo apologized. “Bishop made us late.”

  Bishop threw Margo a look for what everyone assumed was a lie. As soon as they took their seats, servers came out with trays of food.

  “Hold on,” Enola protested. “We haven’t ordered anything.”

  Gideon placed his hand over hers. “It’s a specially chosen menu.”

  Enola raised a brow. “Chosen by who?”

  “Me!” Margo blurted. “Shut up and eat!”

  “Well, damn,” Enola mumbled with a frown.

  A few people at the table laughed, and for the first time, Enola noticed the girl that used to hang around Bishop all the time.

  “Y’all told me she died,” Enola whispered to Gideon.

  Enola froze when the woman nodded and mouthed, “I did”, from the other end of the table.

  “Nola, darlin’, you’re in a room full of wolves and vampires whispering is pointless.”

  “Oh, shoot. Sorry, y’all,” she whispered again.

  So, she could put something other than her foot in her mouth, a smiling server placed a really pretty salad in front of her. Waiting for Margo left Enola starving. So, without another word, she dug right in.

  GIDEON

  Gideon put away his dessert and handled Enola’s when she was too full to finish it. Margo cooked a delicious meal, but she always did. She actually thought she’d fooled everyone into thinking she was some kinda lazy party girl. Little did Margo know, Gabriel had a pair of eyes on her most times.

  “Whooh! I am so full. That was amazing,” Enola crooned.

  “Girl, wasn’t it?” Margo poked with a giggle.

  Enola might have been the only person at the table that didn’t know Margo prepared the meal.

  “On that note...” Bishop began.

  He stood and raised his glass.

  “I would like to propose a toast to the magnificent chef.”

  “Here! Here!” Enola shouted, lifting her glass. “Go get him!”

  Bishop chuckled and held his hand out for Margo. She placed her hand in his and stood up next to him.

  “Yes, baby, thank you for the wonderful meal,” Ruby chimed.

  Margo blinked over at her mother with confusion.

  “Wait... What?” she questioned. “How did you know I cooked this food?”

  Enola’s head whipped around until she was gawking at Ruby. “WHO COOKED WHAT?” she screeched.

  Gideon couldn’t restrain his fit of laughter.

  “Mamma, you knew I was a chef?” Margo asked.

  Ruby laughed. “Child, I’m the one that paid for all your education and travel. How am I not gonna know? You thought I was sending you all that money, not know what you were doing with it?”

  “WHO COOKED WHAT?” Enola repeated.

  Margo looked over at Enola and blew out a frustrated breath.

  “I cooked the food! I’m a chef! Now, would you shut yo drunk ass up!”

  Enola rolled her eyes. “A LIE!” she contradicted. “Margo can’t even make Ramen noodles.”

  She was a little drunk, Gideon noted.

  “But she can make Beef Wellington,” Gabriel blurted in Margo’s defense.

  Laughter and applause broke out in the room. The evening turned into the perfect celebration for the end of what seemed to be a never-ending war. For the rest of the evening, they enjoyed each other’s company over a significant number of drinks.

  By the time they were walking out of the restaurant, it was well past closing. One staffer held the door open as they exited. As soon as Gideon stepped outside, Alice ran up to him. The look on her face was troubling. Out of instinct, he grabbed Enola and pulled her close.

  “I have been calling you all night!” Alice admonished.

  Gideon patted his pockets until he found his phone. He pulled it out and discovered the battery had died.

  “What’s wrong? Why didn’t you call Gabe?”

  Gabriel raised his hands in defense. “My phone is in the truck,” he confessed before she could yell at him.

  “I have been looking all over the place for you guys!”

  “Alice, what is it?” Worry ate through Gideon.

  “She got away,” she said in a hushed tone.

  “Who- who got away?” Enola slurred.

  Suddenly, a shot rang out of nowhere. Gideon stepped in front of Enola. He pulled his 45 out of his waistband and looked around for the shooter. He blew out an agitated breath when he realized it was Vivienne, his wife’s evil twin.

  Gideon wished he could have killed her. But killing her would be killing his wife. However, he would wound her to disarm her. He aimed his weapon and placed his finger on the trigger. Then he heard a thunderous growl, just before someone or something knocked his target out of his sights.

  The vampire/wolf hybrid had pounced on her. She locked onto Vivienne’s neck and ripped out her throat. Emma was the “she” that got away.

  “No!” Margo screamed, running toward the beast. It was Bishop that held her back.

  Gideon gasped and whipped around to Enola. He grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. He held her tight as if holding her would keep her from dying. Tears welled in his eyes at the idea of losing his wife.

  “Oh, God, Nola,” Gideon gritted, painfully.

  Gideon looked up at the monster that was essentially tak
ing Enola’s life. She was a large, ugly beast, half-human, and half mangy dog. She was standing on her hind legs, howling at the moon as if pleased with herself. Only, Emma’s celebration didn’t last long when she looked over and saw Enola, realizing she’d attacked the wrong person. And if that didn’t end the celebration, bursting into a ball of flames certainly had. His wife would have the last word.

  Gideon’s tears fell in Enola’s hair as he kissed the top of her head. Ruby ran over and wrapped her arms around them both. She was crying hysterically.

  “Nola, baby? Oh, my Lord, no!”

  Enola pushed against Gideon’s chest, struggling to get out of his hold. Her face twisted with confusion as if she didn’t understand their hysterical reaction to the attack.

  “What is wrong with y’all?” Enola questioned with a grimace.

  “Nola, darlin’, you are magically linked to that woman,” Gideon gently reminded her.

  “No, I’m not!” Enola squealed.

  Margo stopped struggling against Bishop and looked over at Enola.

  “What?” she asked through a heavy breath.

  Enola shrugged. “I broke that link three weeks ago.”

  “Nola!” Ruby shouted. “Why didn’t you tell us that?”

  Enola shrugged. “I thought I did.”

  “WHAT?” Margo screamed.

  Thankfully, Bishop was kind enough to maintain his hold on Margo, but Ruby’s hands were free to do damage. So, Gideon picked his wife up and got her the hell out of there. He could hear Margo shouting threats at his wife the whole way to the truck.

  Epilogue

  Five Months Later...

  “Your drink, Mademoiselle Roux.”

  Margo opened her eyes and accepted the tall glass of rum punch.

  “Merci, Samuel.”

  She took a sip and sat the glass on the table next to her lounger. She and Bishop were vacationing on his superyacht, he renamed ‘Siren’s Cove’.

  Margo had been having the time of her life. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were prepared by a talented chef. For the last three days, they’d spent their days enjoying the sun, and their nights enjoying each other. Margo took another sip.

  Since lunch, she’d been drinking and relaxing on the sundeck. Margo wasn’t trying to tan; she was just being lazy. But it was time for her to cool off. She got up and walked to the edge of the pool. She dove in without hesitation, loving every bit of the cool water on her skin. Margo maneuvered through the water as comfortably as she moved on land. There was a peace to be found in the weightlessness.

  Through the clear water, she could see Bishop. Margo kicked to the surface and popped her head out of the water. She swam to the edge and grabbed the concrete edge.

  “You getting in here?” Margo asked him.

  “In a little while. Come, chéri. I would like a word.”

  Margo ogled Bishop like a bitch in heat as he walked over to a pool chair. His long, muscular body in swim trunks was the gift that kept on giving. She swam to the pool stairs and climbed out.

  Margo adjusted the bottom of her tiny bikini as she walked over to him. The heat of Bishop’s gaze on her exposed skin was searing.

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  Bishop patted his thigh for her to sit. When she did, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her back to him. Margo shivered when his lips pressed the sensitive skin of her neck.

  “Marguerite, you have no idea how special you are,” he muttered against her neck.

  His breath tickled her skin. “How special am I?” she giggled.

  Bishop stood from the chair, lifting her with him. He gave her a soft pat on the butt, set her down, and said, “Walk with me.”

  Bishop wrapped his big hand around hers and led her to the rail. He pointed toward the sea.

  “Do you see that land out there?”

  Margo nodded. “Yeah.”

  “That’s Haiti.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  “Marguerite, what do you know about your father?”

  “Nada. Well, all I know is he out there somewhere, not worrying about me.”

  Bishop turned her to face him and looked into her eyes.

  “I did some research, chéri. Your father is not alive.”

  Margo felt her brows knitting as she looked up at him.

  “Bishop, why would you research my father?”

  “Because you have no idea who you really are.”

  Margo shrugged.

  “And, I’ve been okay with that.”

  Bishop rubbed her arm. The tender way he was handling her was making Margo nervous.

  “Your father was Haitian. You’re Haitian.”

  “What?” Margo asked with a frown.

  “Do you remember Sabine and Garcelle?”

  “Yes, Bishop! You’re making me anxious! What is this about? What do Sabine and Garcelle have to do with me?”

  “They’re your cousins. We’re near your father’s homeland.”

  Bishop placed his hand against the small of her back and urged her toward the back of the yacht, just as a smaller boat approached. Inside, the boat was Sabine and Garcelle. Margo turned to Bishop.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me they were my cousins when they were at your house?”

  “I could have, yes, but, something very special happens in the sea that surrounds your homeland.”

  “Bishop, this is not my homeland! I have never set foot on the island of Haiti, and I’ve never been in the sea that surrounds it.”

  Margo’s paranoia was growing. She trusted Bishop, but it felt like she was being set up. She looked from him to the two women in the boat and wondered if she was in danger.

  “I don’t like this, Bishop. The shroud of mystery is scaring me; you’re scaring me.”

  Margo saw regret in his eyes when he looked at her. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

  “I’m sorry, chéri. I would never hurt you, Marguerite. The thought of you being afraid of me is excruciating.”

  Bishop’s words were comforting. Margo wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

  “I love you,” he whispered.

  Margo inhaled a sharp breath. Bishop’s declaration caught her totally off guard. When she looked up at him with disbelief, his eyes were filled with emotion.

  “You love me?” she breathed.

  “I do,” he confirmed with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

  Margo took a step back. Something was definitely not right.

  “Bishop, please tell me what’s going on? I mean it! Spit it out!”

  “Okay,” Bishop agreed with a nod. “There is a reason why men lose their minds when you sing, and there is a reason you’re so at home in water. Mythologically, the siren are sea-dwelling creatures that lure sailors to their death with an enchanting song.”

  Bishop to a deep breath.

  “I’m sorry, mon amour. I just really nervous.”

  Bishop and nervous didn’t even fit in the same sentence. “What are you nervous about?”

  “Marguerite, you are much more than a woman who can tell men what to do.”

  Margo was tired of the riddle, wrapped in a mystery, inside an enigma. She threw her hands up.

  “Bishop, what the f-.”

  She couldn’t finish her sentence, because Bishop pushed her into the water. Margo hit the water without grace and sank. She kicked angrily to the surface, intending to swim back to the boat, but she couldn’t. Her body seized with pain. From head to toe, Margo felt like she was being stabbed with sharp objects. Like acid, the water burned the skin from her body. Margo even felt pain in her eyes. The excruciating pain of her bones snapping caused to her scream. Her lungs filled with water, but she wasn’t drowning. She just wasn’t that lucky.

  Margo jerked uncontrollably as her body was torn to pieces from the inside out. She could actually feel her organs shifting. The lids of her eyes had stretched so wide that she thought her eyeballs would pop out. E
ven her vision changed. She could see underwater as well, or maybe even better than on land.

  Once Margo was able to focus, she saw Bishop. He was treading directly in front of her. But when she tried to reach for him, her spine snapped. Margo cried out for him, but the sound that came out of her sent fish swimming away.

  “Nola, help me!” she called out with her mind.

  “Enola can’t hear you in here,” a female voice responded in her head.

  The skin on her hands had stretched painfully and she could no longer feel her legs. Margo’s vertebrae tore through her back like spears. The pain sent her flailing. With her eyes, she begged Bishop to stop the pain.

  “Margo, just relax and let it happen. You’re almost there,” the female voice said.

  There was no relaxing. Margo was dying, in the most painful, unimaginable way. Bishop was still treading in front of her. She looked into his eyes and saw pain. Before she realized it, Margo was moving toward him. The pain had vanished as quickly as it came. She reached out to him but was stunned by the sight of her webbed fingers.

  “Margo, follow me.”

  Finally, able to move, Margo flipped around toward the voice. It was Sabine. And if she were breathing, what she saw would have taken her breath away. The top half resembled Sabine, but the bottom was fish. Margo wiggled away with fear.

  “While you’re trying to skirt away from me, I suggest you take a good look at yourself,” Sabine said in Margo’s head.

  Scared of what she was going to see, Margo looked slowly from Sabine to her own webbed fingers and scaly fishtail. Had her transformation not been so painful, Margo would’ve thought she was having a nightmare.

  “Oh, shit!” she cursed.

  Bishop kicked to the surface and Sabine followed him. Margo peddled with her hands, but she didn’t know what to do with a tail. So, she wiggled awkwardly until her head breached the surface.

  “That’s your tail fin, Margo. It does what you make it do.”

  “Well, you teach her what she needs to know,” Bishop said. “I’m getting out. I can do a lot of things, breathing underwater isn’t one of them.”

  Bishop turned to Margo and nodded his head toward the boat. Garcelle had boarded and was leaning over the railing.