Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2)

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Love and Blood (Evening Bower Book 2) Page 2

by Sherry Rentschler


  The attacking forces failed. Rhea, the ancient scarlet phoenix, and Jean-Louis Riviere, the vampire born during the American Revolution, physically mated, shared blood and in a miraculous turn of events, had a son. They named him Destin Louis and Rhea said he was the completion of the prophecy and the one being who would forever alter the destinies of every supernatural creature. At least this is what the dragon sage from Atlantis inscribed in The Great Book. Who alive could doubt its validity? Where did it say that a vampire and a phoenix would cross time to unite spirts then share fire and blood? Who would believe that a vampire, thanks to a long-dead phoenix spirit, could wield fire or physically love a phoenix with all the lust and desire of a human? However, this is precisely what happened, according to witnesses.

  Today vampire and phoenix beloveds spent their time repairing the damage from the royal battle and reconstructing their sanctuary, this family home initially built after the American Revolutionary War. Plus now they nurture a young child, a son who lives as both vampire and human. A blood drinker who suckles milk, a prophecy in the flesh, a progeny to protect.

  Much to consider as Rhea and Amor-el picked up pieces. Only those familiar with the old house missed the more private parts of the antebellum plantation where betrayal turned wood to ashes. Amor-el felt the tragic loss of the original, historical timbers, but he understood the strength of his family home wasn’t in the wood but the steel of its occupants. And the love that bound them.

  Rhea temporarily set aside housekeeper duties and stole a moment to relax. Today she hosted Victoria, a young seer who claimed to have unearthed an incredible and unusual secret. Though human, Victoria’s herbal and visionary gifts proved useful during the recent battle and her tarot cards aided in the fight. Her herbal skills and quick thinking provided supernatural assistance and helped turn the battle in the lovers’ favor. As a result, the Riviere family thought of her as part of their family. Especially Rhea.

  While the mansion was eminently habitable and comfortable, Rhea hoped her new friend wouldn’t mind the more masculine library surrounds while they conducted their tête-à-tête. Fortunately, the seer wasn’t particularly caring of her environment as she pressed Rhea with her latest tarot reading the moment she arrived.

  “It is impossible,” Rhea shook her head and frowned, rocking Destin in her lap.

  ‘The cards don’t lie, Miss Rhea. I read them several times, and the story is the same.”

  “Victoria, you do not understand.”

  The young woman placed a hand over Rhea’s hand. “I’m sorry. I can’t explain how I know, but that’s not all I read. The Tower…” her voice dropped to a whisper as she swallowed.

  “The Tower card predicts a danger.” Rhea interrupted again as Destin pulled some hair, then reached for the seer.

  Victoria nodded and maneuvered out of Destin’s reach. “Danger yes, but not from where you would expect.”

  Before she could elaborate further, Franklin rolled in a teacart laden with warm shortbread cookies and a large, steaming china teapot. A silver water server sat high over doily napkins, sugar cubes, cream, honey and all manner of accessories. For Rhea, tea was a cherished event at any time of day, a custom that most cultures shared in one form or another. Tea was balm, meditation, or a formal intimacy practiced over a thousand years. Today, the tea was simple sustenance for the nursing Rhea, and she enjoyed sharing.

  “Madam, it is almost two, and you skipped breakfast. Forgive my presumption, but I thought you might like a hot cup of breakfast tea and that the young miss might join you?” Franklin poured a cup and doctored it without waiting for a reply.

  Rhea stood with Destin and let her afternoon gown fall around her. Though completely healed from the childbirth, for some unknown reason she found her usual choice of slacks inordinately uncomfortable. She eschewed them for more bohemian, free-flowing caftans like the gorgeous indigo and purple linen she chose today. But loose gowns also forced her to don a sweater or seek comfort by the fire, feeling every breeze and shivering. Never mind the sticky, humid day. She shifted her son in her arms and carried him over to the crib by the fireplace currently ablaze.

  Temperatures might be in the mid-80s, but Rhea’s heartfire begged for constant warmth. Ever since Destin’s birth, Rhea struggled to fan her inner fires. The embers flickered, and often Rhea buried herself in blankets. Amor-el claimed he was never warm, so a fire served both of them. Guests sometimes complained of the exceptional heat; however, they were most likely human and grew to understand the necessity of the constant fires. Still, Rhea’s need intensified and the household kept a sharp watch over her.

  Victoria’s beautiful smile returned as Franklin handed her a cup and saucer. “Thank you so much,” she gushed.

  The manservant nodded and turned as Rhea addressed him.

  “I thought you might serve us yet another pot of your Scottish Highland tea.”

  “I will if that is what you prefer, Madam. I did think it might be too stout and potent while Madam is tending to young sir. This pot is a taut English brew. ” He blushed lightly at having to mention the indelicate nature of his failure.

  “No, you are right, of course.” She accepted a cup brimming with milk and sugar and sipped. “Delicious. Oh, before I forget, is everything ready? You will be there?”

  “Your guest arrives just after five this afternoon. I shall be on time to greet her and deliver her safely. I prepared the room as you instructed.”

  “You are too generous, Franklin. But call her Cooke. By the way, thank you for the kitchen remodeling you managed. After our, hmm, incident this summer, I know how diligently you worked to see this distinguished old mansion reclaim her beauty. Though I am afraid part of the house will never recover, we will do fine until we build the new home, will we not?” Rhea sat back with her tea and a soft smile.

  “Indeed we will, Madam.” Franklin glanced around, his eyes loving the old room. “Master Riviere is also well pleased with the progress. Except for his mother’s old wing, the rest of the house recovered well.”

  “It is such a lovely old place,” Victoria said. “Did you lose much in the fire, Mr. Franklin?”

  The manservant turned and shook his head. “Fortunately no. A few things that cannot be replaced but overall, I managed. Thank you for your inquiry.”

  Victoria nodded and sipped, remembering the smoldering house after the vampires and demons attacked. The magical fires barely skimmed over some of the house, but Nathan had planned for complete annihilation and set fire to several rooms. Thankfully, he failed and died cruelly, as he deserved. Since then, so much had changed, including the rather large baby who stirred in the crib.

  “The afternoon sun is on the patio,” Victoria noted with a glance out the window. “Maybe we could sit outside? Might do you some good to bask in the sunshine.”

  Rhea hesitated. The patio where she killed the mimic fae who pretended to be the visiting Comtesse. The moonlit place where she and JL first kissed. The same patio where they first felt the attackers’ approach.

  “Unless you’d rather not?” Victoria suddenly offered seeing Rhea’s features pale.

  “No, we should take in this glorious weather. It must be a bit too gloomy in here for you. Lead on, seer. We will resume your preposterous reading.”

  Franklin moved the baby to a stroller, tucked him in, and followed the women.

  “I can’t believe he’s three months.” Victoria waved at an alert Destin. “He looks as big as nine months or more but what do I know?”

  Rhea smiled, but it was tight with worry. “I can hardly believe it either. He grows so fast and greedily demands milk as well as my blood. I struggle because I scarcely heal before Destin craves me again. A true phoenix does not feed as a human does and I am a little lost in this body. I don’t know what is worse, the constant weariness or the unending cold.”

  Victoria frowned, confident she knew the reason but wondered if she could help Rhea see the truth. The women sat at a wrought iron
table surrounded by deep cushioned teak chairs.

  Franklin paused in the doorway and faced into the bright sun. His gray hair set off his tailored deep navy coat. He cut an elegant if imposing figure. Victoria couldn’t help but cast an appreciative glance at him. He suited the old plantation and wore it as much as his clothes, and he rarely ventured far away from Rhea.

  “What is normal for a babe of yours, if I might ask?” Victoria set her empty cup down and squinted through the last of the sunshine.

  “I truly do not know. My fertile cycle never arrived before Atlantis’ destruction. I lost my mate, and we never completed the birthing rituals.” Though somehow my beloved found me and sent Amor-el to me. “I watched as other phoenix laid their eggs in the fire and the chicks emerged from the flames. They grew and matured over many centuries. With feathers,” Rhea added with a chuckle. “Destin is my little bird, but without feathers so I am clueless as to how he will mature. However, his vampire nature appears dominant.”

  The women refused more tea and Franklin pushed the service away. However, Victoria snagged a shortbread cookie before the cart disappeared.

  “Destin has your eyes and didn’t I see fires in them?”

  “The images come and go. I cannot be sure. His dark hair is unusual though.”

  Victoria laughed, “I’m a throwback, so maybe he is too.”

  The sun dropped lower in the sky. Franklin glanced at his watch and his brow furrowed.

  “Madam, I must leave now, or I shall be late.” He offered a slight bow and then disappeared into the house.

  “Friends visiting?”

  Rhea checked on Destin and then noted the darkening sky.

  “Cooke. She is a very close, dear friend and an Irish chef. Best popovers you ever put in your mouth. We have been together for a very long time, and she is moving here.”

  “Oh, popovers,” Victoria breathed, “my favorites.”

  Rhea settled back into her seat and then gave Victoria a measured look. “Now, about those cards. I think you should give me an actual reading and show me this impossible proof.”

  “I can do that.” Victoria jumped up. “But I’ll need to return to my shop and retrieve my oldest cards. I can be back in no time. Besides I have a present I need to bring you.”

  Suddenly, a massive wolfhound bounded onto the patio, surprising Victoria who squealed as she recognized Reaper. She cuddled the giant hound whose tail smacked the table and rattled dishes. The women laughed and grabbed for clattering china in imminent danger of exuberant demise.

  When the afternoon sun disappeared behind low trees and left the sky streaked in golden bands, Rhea knew the hound’s mistress was not far behind. As twilight deepened, the outside lights blinked on.

  “Where is Frankie headed? I saw him leave,” said a seductive voice as Drahomira appeared from the library shadows. Her thick red hair curled mutinously over her shoulders, tumbling over her black leather jacket. Red patent boots clicked on concrete as she stepped outside. She looked more like a Bond Girl than a dangerous vampire. Until she smiled.

  Victoria shivered and grinned at her favorite grim reaper while imagining Drahomira playing baccarat with Daniel Craig. That was one movie she’d pay to see.

  “To the airport. How did you get here? Did you drive your Ducati?” Rhea asked as she hugged her friend. Dra tolerated the embrace with a tight smile, but Reaper broke the moment when he butted Rhea’s leg and commanded equal attention. Rhea fluffed his ears then stooped so that her forehead could rest against his.

  “My friend. Have you been good?” Phoenix and wolfhound communed in silence. Rhea had a magical kinship with the overly large dog. Reaper’s tail wagged lazily back and forth while the two engaged in their mental conversation.

  “I can hear him, you know. Hey Vickie.” Dra winked at Victoria and leaned in to check on Destin who immediately gurgled with delight at his favorite aunt. “We came via crimson mist,” Dra added, baring her fangs at Destin who squirmed and mimicked her by barring baby fangs in response. “I didn’t think you’d mind but didn’t know you had company. How’s our li’l birdie?”

  “Hi, Dra! I’m just leaving. But I’ll be back!” Victoria gushed and glanced at Rhea who nodded.

  “Destin is amazing, thank you. Victoria needs to do a reading on me but has to make a trip back to town for her deck. Care to wait with me? Am should be here any moment.”

  “Back to town?” Dra turned to Victoria. “Why don’t I go with you, honey? I can check the club and then ride back. For fun. I don’t get to ride in cars much.” Drahomira laughed and the air filled with echoes of tiny bells.

  Rhea lifted an eyebrow at her redheaded friend but said nothing. Dra always did the unusual thing in any choice, regardless of the wisdom or lack of it.

  “Cool!” Victoria scarfed together her things and then did a sort of curtsey that made Dra’s eyes dance. “Back in no time!”

  “Plan to stay for supper,” Rhea called as the two headed out around the side of the house.

  “Yes, your Majesty!” The vampire quipped, dropped a real curtsey, and snickered when Rhea stuck out her tongue. “Come on, Reaper, car ride!”

  The wolfhound whined, licked Rhea’s hand and bounded off, just as an elegant gentleman stepped from the manse. Amor-el, dressed as a stereotypical plantation owner in his tan linen suit and white shirt, watched the activity from the doorway.

  “What have I missed, my angel?” He bent and kissed his beloved, lingering over her lips before forcing himself to pull away. “Mm, cinnamon,” he said running his tongue over his mouth. Then Am lifted his son who grinned and gurgled at his papa. “Who is staying for supper, eh, Destin? Anyone we know?”

  Rhea’s body posture visibly softened with Am’s arrival. Her eyes caressed him. There was no hiding the love she felt for the blonde vampire. When he took the chair beside her, she filled him in on Victoria’s visit.

  “Victoria needs her cards because I need proof of some wild reading that she insists I must believe. At the very least, it will be diverting. And unbelievably, Dra rode back to town with her, in the car. She may or may not return. Mercurial, that one.” With a smile, she added, “Franklin left not long ago to pick up Cooke. I confess, my love, I have missed her. Franklin’s cooking is good, but nothing beats Cooke’s goulash and popovers.”

  Amore-el nodded. “I wish I could indulge,” he said wistfully. “That is one of the few sorrows of my new life. I remember my mother did much of the cooking when I was a boy, and it was delicious. Her father, the Duke, hated to see her do any menial tasks. He beat me once because I learned to make cookies. And then he beheaded the cook. I find it hard to look at cookies these days.”

  “Oh darling, that is an awful story. Well, I am sorry to tell you that Cooke makes delectable cookies and if Destin does continue with human food, they will be a must-have for him, and will be Cooke’s delight to bake them.”

  Destin squirmed and snuggled in his father’s arms. “I agree, beloved. My youth and its horrors must not be our boy’s.”

  When Rhea shivered in a breeze, Amor-el hustled her indoors and back to the fire. He tucked a peaceful and drowsy Destin into the crib.

  “Let’s have a glass of wine while we wait, my rose. Something to warm that heartfire and put sparks back in your eyes, oui? You seem more tired than usual. If you are unwell, you must be honest with me. No secrets, c’est vrai?” He often lapsed into French when worry overtook him.

  Rhea exhaled with contentment as the fire’s warmth penetrated her body again and her heartfire swelled. She could feel the embers flowing through her, and she nodded to Am, grateful for his concern. She didn’t understand why she felt so odd, but according to Victoria, there was a very good – impossible – reason for her bouts of lethargy.

  Whatever the reason, being alone with Am returned her strength, and she gratefully accepted a wineglass, rewarding him with a radiant smile.

  “This will do nicely, beloved. I will be refreshed before Victoria ret
urns. By the time she and I have finished our business, Cooke should be here, and we can sit down to dinner. Will you stay?”

  Amor-el sipped his wine, a practice he learned soon after his vampire birth. Flavored with blood, it kept his urgings under control. A trick that he and Franklin could not seem to teach Drahomira but a tool he found he needed more often these days. Khnuman’s spirit may be gone, absorbed into him, but the nearly overwhelming desire for Rhea – body, and blood – remained. He used it to prevent him from doing the unthinkable.

  “I have some early business downtown at the solicitor’s office.” Am opened the evening paper and scanned the financials. “Then I will find my dinner. I thought I might run by Club Malachite and discover what yesterday’s paper claimed is the best new hot spot. I’ll meet Cooke later. I’m sure she will have enough to keep her entertained and busy. By the way, how is Franklin going to know her?”

  Rhea, half dozing in the chair, said, “I gave him a picture. I did suggest that Dra go with him.”

  “Oh no. You didn’t.” The paper shook with JL’s amusement.

  Rhea couldn’t help her chuckle. “He declined. Do not worry, my love. Franklin will be fine. I cannot wait for some of Cooke’s favorite dishes. No offense to your man but my appetite is unhappy with his Scottish cuisine. It is a little too heavy for me. I don’t think I have eaten well since Destin was born.”

  Amor-el frowned behind his newspaper, worry gnawing over Rhea’s illness. Then he quietly turned a page and said lightly, “I cannot wait to see how they get on. I predict they will bombard you with delicacies, my angel. You may even spark a competition. My man is not giving up his kitchen easily even if he does so willingly.”

  Rhea studied her beloved. “Did you ever have a family chef, Am?”

 

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