The Red Veil Diaries (Volumes 1-4)

by Marianne Morea

  “Bucket list? I thought we’d see a Broadway show or walk around Times Square on our last night in Manhattan, not hit an overpriced tourist trap trending on twitter.”

  “Wow, you thought of that all by yourself or just practicing your skills in alliteration?”

  “Ha. Ha.”

  “You said you wanted a true taste of New York.” Aimee spread her hands. “Well, we’ve got the best seats in the house for watching clueless humans pant unawares over supernaturals.” She inhaled, feigning a shiver. “Smell those pheromones, and I don’t mean the mortal variety. Every Were in this place is revved and ready to howl.”

  Daisy took a sip of her drink, ignoring Aimee’s comments. She glanced at the same purple-haired girl still flirting with the vampire behind the bar. “That twit has no clue. She’s hoping for a hookup, and he’s sizing her up for a midnight snack.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Dais.”

  “Okay, so maybe he’s the one vampire in undead history not looking for a hot lunch, but my guess is given half a chance, he’ll nibble more than just her ear.”

  Aimee put her drink down and eyed her friend. “Why do you care?”

  “I don’t. Not really,” she shrugged.

  “Then why let it bother you so much? Look around, Dais. She’s not alone. This place is sex and the forbidden wrapped in red velvet and concrete.”

  Daisy lifted a hand and let it drop. “And we’re back to my original question.”

  “What?”

  “Why we came here,” Daisy replied with a huff.

  Aimee laughed. “Because it’s fun. Remember fun?”

  “Vaguely.” She smirked, draining her martini.

  “At least that’s a start.”

  At Aimee’s satisfied smirk, Daisy shot her a cautious look. “What do you mean start?”

  “Nothing, really.” She angled her head. “It’s a healthy sign you remember what it was like to let your guard down and relax.”

  “Aimee…no.”

  She nodded. “It’s time you got back in the game, Daisy. It’s been way too long.”

  “I’m not interested. NOT.” Daisy shook her head.

  “You mean you’re afraid you’ll get hurt again.” Aimee signaled a passing waitress for another round. “You may not care if you miss out on life, but I do. You’re my best friend and way too young to be old and pinch-faced.”

  “Hey!”

  “Whether you admit it or not, we’re not in Texas anymore Toto. That means no more bending over the back fence unless it’s to grind your ass against a hot cowboy. You’ve spent too much time otherwise, and that’s no way to live. Especially when that time involves the town church ladies.”

  “That’s not fair, Aims. I have a daughter to raise. I can’t run around in full moon heat just because I’m young and have a wild itch to scratch.”

  Aimee looked at her. “I know you have a daughter. I’m her godmother, remember? And it’s completely unfair to compare you to a dried up old gossip, but like it or not, that is exactly where you’re headed if you don’t shake things up, pronto.”

  Daisy blinked at the wetness stinging her eyes. “You didn’t get left at the altar, Aimee. You don’t know what it’s like to be that humiliated in front of everyone you know, and then find out your pregnant on top of everything else.”

  Daisy watched the bodies on the dance floor, their frenetic pace keeping time with the sexual thump, thump of the bass.

  She sighed. “I know you’re right, Aims, but I still feel people staring and whispering behind my back every time I go into town. I hate their pity, and for Jenny’s sake I have to keep myself above reproach.”

  “Bullshit.” Aimee slapped her hand on the table. “Let ‘em talk. You’re a terrific mother, and everyone knows you’ve had the devil’s own time. It’s been five years and Jace hasn’t shown his face once. Even his parents haven’t seen or heard from him. For all anyone knows, he could be dead.”

  “Don’t say that.” Daisy’s voice caught.

  Aimee’s lips parted as she stared at the emotional battle in Daisy’s eyes. “Oh my God! You still love him.”

  Daisy’s jaw tightened as a practiced mask fell over her expression.

  “Oh no you don’t, missy. It’s written all over your face, Dais. After all’s said and done. You do. Ghost or not.”

  Daisy opened her mouth then snapped it shut when the waitress approached with their drinks.

  “Here, you go. Two lemon drop martinis.” The server put the drinks on the table.

  “Thank you.” Daisy smiled at the woman, watching her walk far enough away before glaring at her friend.

  “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Aimee Dunne. You may be a big deal doctor back home, but you’re supposed to be my best friend. I do not love Jace Matthews.”

  Aimee opened her mouth to argue, but Daisy shook her head putting her off.

  “I’ll block every ‘but’ you’ve got stacked and ready to argue if you don’t drop this, Aimee. Jace may be ancient history, but he’s my history. Did he handle what happened between us in a shit-ass, infantile way? Absolutely. Do I wish I could give him a piece of my mind? Sometimes.

  “But I would never wish him dead. He’s Jenny’s father, plus it would crush his parents and they’ve been nothing but loving and supportive ever since he left me standing alone in my wedding dress.”

  “Okay, but what about the ranch?” Aimee asked.

  Confused, Daisy looked at her friend. “What about it?”

  “Excuse me, but aren’t your father and his schemes the reason we escaped on this excursion north?” she prompted.

  Daisy exhaled. “I’m trying not to think about it.”

  “I gotta say, Dais, in my practice I’ve seen people with control issues, but demanding you marry Seth is the most manipulative thing I’ve heard in a long time. You really believe this dude is some long lost cousin? It’s creepy, not to mention shadily convenient. You wouldn’t even have to change your last name.”

  Daisy sighed. “My dad believes Seth’s legit. He’s not a Were, though. It’s strange, because as far as I know everyone on the Cochran side is dual natured. It was obvious on our first date. There was no concentrated musk, no jitters skittering across the skin when we were together and the moon crested.

  “Then again, his connection to us is so far removed I ignored his single nature, chalking it up to diluted genetics. The Matthews side is usually the one with random Were traits. It’s part of the reason they’re so possessive about Jenny. She’s a pure blood.”

  “Still.”

  Daisy sighed in acknowledgment. “My dad can’t get past my brother’s death. In his eyes, this is the only way to keep the bloodline and the Cochran name intact.”

  “If you ask me, it’s more like he can’t get past your brother being a traitor,” Aimee said over the rim of her martini glass.

  Daisy shook her head. “I won’t believe that.”

  “Dais, your brother sold his own for a promise of power. You and your father are lucky the Alpha of the Brethren didn’t sanction your entire pack. If you ask me, forcing this marriage is a coping mechanism, and in his eyes it expunges the stain your brother put on the family.”

  “I know.” She exhaled.

  “Life is too short to go on living in the past. Your dad needs to move on from your brother, and you need to move on from Jace. It’s as simple as that.”

  Daisy fidgeted with the damp napkin under her drink. “If only it were that easy.” She looked at her friend. “Jace’s family will inherit the ranch if there’s no male Cochran heir. My brother really screwed us when he went on his misguided power trip. The day he was accepted into the Alpha’s core of Hunters, we were so proud, but as always, it wasn’t enough.”

  “I know, honey, and I’m sorry, but I still don’t understand what this has to do with you and Jace,” Aimee pressed.

  “If I don’t marry a Cochran male, then the bloodline is broken and the ranch and all the property transfers to the
Matthews pack.”

  Aimee shook her head. “Why? That makes no sense. Your dad was over the moon about you and Jace, and he’s not a Cochran by blood.”

  Daisy met Aimee’s questioning gaze, and Aimee froze with her drink halfway to her mouth. She put the glass down and stared at her friend.

  “Are you telling me you and Jace were related? I’ve heard of kissing cousins, but this is getting ridiculous, and with your father forcing your current situation with Seth, it’s sounding a lot like back country incest.”

  Daisy threw her crumpled napkin at her. “Oh my God, Aims! Get a grip. Jace was a distant cousin. Even more distant than Seth claims. Seriously distant. As in generations ago, but enough of a recorded connection to satisfy the pact.”

  “Pact? What pact?”

  Daisy exhaled, putting her glass down. “The entitlement clause bound to our deed that keeps the ranch and all the land intact.”

  “Wait.” Aimee puffed out a breath, waving her hands in disbelief. “Are you telling me your family abides by the laws of primogeniture? I never heard of anything so archaic.”

  Daisy fidgeted with the crumpled napkin. “If you mean an inheritance passing to the first born male, then yes, otherwise the property is entitled away.”

  “Entitled away?” Aimee slammed her hand on the table. “What? Are we suddenly living in a Jane Austen novel? Daisy, I can’t believe you agreed to this. You have an heir. Jenny is half Cochran and half Matthews. Done. You need to hire a good forensic attorney to look at this so called pact.”

  “Wow, Aims, what a novel idea.” She blew out a breath. “Don’t you think I already tried that? No one disputes the contract is unusual, but they all agree it’s binding.”

  Stunned, Aimee looked at her friend. “I’m so sorry, Daisy.” She lifted a hand and let it drop. “What now?”

  Daisy shrugged and then straightened her shoulders. “We finish our drinks and then head back to the hotel to pack for our flight home.”

  “Daisy—”

  “What do you want me to say, Aims? If I don’t marry someone with a drop of Cochran blood, we lose everything. At least with Jace, I was happy. I loved him and I thought he loved me.”

  Aimee stared at her drink, flabbergasted before lifting her eyes to her friend. “This makes no sense to me. Your families are linked. You have common ancestry.”

  “You don’t understand. We’re the Hatfields and McCoys of the Shifter world, but Jace’s disappearing act blew a hole in the barn door on any kind of truce.”

  Aimee leaned forward in her chair. “It doesn’t matter. Not enough to make the price of poker go up. Your life is too high a price to pay for a piece of real estate. Do you even love Seth?”

  “He’s good to me, and Jenny needs a father.”

  Aims pressed her lips together. “Jenny doesn’t like him.”

  “Jenny is four.” Daisy shrugged. “She’ll like who I like. It’s enough for now.”

  “Enough?” Aimee’s voice rose. “That’s your father talking, not you. As for Jenny being four years old, children are more perceptive than most adults and rarely given credit for seeing what we either miss or refuse to see. Hence the phrase, out of the mouths of babes. Besides, I don’t care for him either, so that’s saying something.”

  Daisy nodded. “You’re right, but you’re forgetting I haven’t agreed to anything yet. The price attached to this fix is not just real estate, as you put it. It’s my heritage. We settled the land over a hundred fifty years ago. The Cochrans and the Matthews.

  “My great-grandfather, Noah, his wife, Sarah, and Jace’s great-grandfather, Micah Matthews and his wife, Eva. It’s how Jace and I are related.”

  “I don’t follow.” Aimee shook her head, confused.

  “Jace’s great-grandmother Eva and my great-grandfather Noah were brother and sister.”

  “So what happened?”

  Daisy frowned and glanced at the undead bartender. “Vampires happened. One vampire in particular.” She lifted her martini and took a sip. “It’s a long story.”

  “I like long stories. Spill.”

  “This isn’t the time Aimee, and if you knew the whole story you’d agree this isn’t the place to discuss the details. Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  Aimee put down her drink and folded her arms in front of her chest, giving Daisy a fixed stare.

  Daisy met her gaze and blew out a hard breath. “If we get sharp fangs aimed our way, I’m shoving you first.”

  Aimee smirked. “Nice, now out with it.”

  Daisy spared another glance at the bartender, discreetly noting any other members of the undead too close for comfort.

  She looked at Aimee and leaned in, lowering her voice. “A female vampire showed up looking for shelter one winter. Noah wanted her to leave from the get go, but Micah didn’t.

  “He gave my great-grandfather an excuse about supernatural species needing to be more Christian when dealing with one another, but Noah didn’t buy it. He didn’t trust the woman or Micah’s fascination with her. It didn’t make sense.

  “Within a month, the vampire had seduced Micah, turning him dark, and then leaving him with nothing but a thirst for blood and a lust for flesh. Noah threw Micah off the land. Ashamed, Micah wandered for a bit, but as he was half-owner of the property, he didn’t need an invitation to return.

  “He came back one night, but Eva wouldn’t let him in. When Noah found out, he begged his sister to stay with him and Sarah, but she refused. In the end, Micah raped and killed her, murdering two of their three kids before the morning sun fried his sorry undead ass.

  “Noah blamed himself for not saving his sister and the children. He took in her surviving child, a baby girl, and raised her as his own until she ran off at sixteen. He spent years tracking her down, but the damage was done. As much as he blamed himself, she blamed him as well.”

  Stunned, Aimee stared slack jawed at her friend. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

  Daisy shrugged. “I don’t know. I suppose I thought everyone already knew.”

  “So what happened next?”

  “Guilt ate at Noah for the rest of life. He set the inheritance provisos as a result. It was his hope the lure of land and security would reunite the family for his sister’s sake. that it would be enough.”

  Daisy shrugged again. “So now you know why this is more than a simple matter of land ownership.” She paused, meeting Aimee’s attentive gaze. “And why I didn’t want to come tonight. Vampires ruined my family.”

  Aimee covered her hand with hers. “No, Daisy. One vampire did. Not all. Times have changed.”

  Daisy shook her head. “Times may change, but vampires never will. They are predators. Selfish and superior. To them you’re either prey or a servant species.” She lifted her hand in a hollow gesture. “I don’t expect you to understand, and I get that. Old taboos, new pacts, new tolerances—whatever. I’m tired, Aims. I’m going to the ladies’ room and then catching a cab back to the hotel. Being this close to so many bloodsuckers is making me ill.”

  “Daisy, don’t be that way. It’s barely midnight. Stay.”

  She leaned over to give her friend a quick peck and then pushed her chair away from the table.

  “Dais, we came together, we leave together, right?”

  She nodded, grabbing her purse. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”

  2

  Daisy turned toward a side alcove and froze halfway through the entrance. A tall, lanky vampire stepped from the shadows, his hollow cheeks and yellow fangs making him more graveyard than Goth.

  “You don’t belong here, daylighter.” The man’s gravelly voice was as forbidding as his appearance.

  He stopped beneath the neon exit sign only steps from her, blocking a door marked private and the turn for the restrooms on the opposite side.

  “I am looking for the ladies’ room,” Daisy replied, keeping her tone steady and her eyes trained on the vampire.

  She ignored the tric
kle of nervous sweat between her breasts. “I didn’t mean to trespass,” she added, quietly slipping two fingers into the side pocket of her purse for her UV flashlight. This was exactly what she wanted to avoid tonight.

  “No one enters without an invitation.” The pallid-skinned man took another step closer, his thin greasy hair, limp and stringy against the white of his scalp.

  Whipping her hand up, Daisy flashed a beam of bright ultraviolet light into the bloodsucker’s red eyes.

  Hissing, he threw his arm up to shield his face, but Daisy didn’t stay to watch the fallout. She ran, not looking back until she collapsed onto the edge of a plush couch in the crowded safety of the closest bar. She gulped down air, trying to collect herself.

  “Are you okay?” a female voice asked.

  Daisy nodded, pressing her wrists against the railing, hoping the cold chrome would stop her from retching.

  “Are you sure? You don’t look so good.”

  She turned to give the concerned girl a halfhearted smile, but stiffened at what she saw past the woman’s shoulder.

  She’d recognize his profile anywhere. The curve of his strong jaw and the way his blue-black hair skimmed the back of his neck above broad shoulders.

  Jace.

  He sat across the bar at a small table near the steps. People milled back and forth, laughing and talking, complicating her line of sight. She excused herself, and moved her seat to be sure. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Or could it?

  Jace was as gorgeous as ever. His black T-shirt clung to his chest, and his flat muscular torso was just as she remembered. He sat the same way, too, with one long leg crossed flat over his knee, the edge of his favorite silver-toed boots gleaming in the light.

  Stunned, her breath locked in her throat. She wasn’t dreaming. Resting on his thigh was the cowboy hat she’d given him at their engagement party. A black suede Stetson with the ranch’s crest on the matching leather band—a sterling silver wolf’s head carved into a full moon—a symbol marking the end of a century of bad blood.