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Savage Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 2)

Page 9

by Alizabeth Lynn


  “Are you certain?” A female voice asked.

  “Yeah.” A male returned, his twangy voice grunting. “Tha werewolf bastard’s as good as dead; it won’ be long now. An’ we’re closer ta settin’ tha trap fer tha other one.”

  “What about the other werewolf, the bitch?” A new male inquired in a nasal voice.

  “She’s safe.” Twangy giggled. “She ain’t fightin’ much, either, on account a tha whelp she’s carryin’.”

  The woman laughed softly. “Good. How much longer does she have?”

  “Five months, but tha doc’s sayin’ we can take it in four. Then there ain’t gonna be no reason ta keep tha bitch aroun’, is there?”

  “No.” Nasal said. “No, there won’t.”

  Daniel heard a rustling sound, and he imagined Twangy rubbing his greedy hands together. “Will ya’ let me have ‘er then?”

  Nasal grunted in assent. “You assist the wolves with keeping her and her spawn alive and unharmed for the next few months, and you can do whatever you want with her after we take the child. Before she serves her other purpose, that is.”

  Daniel’s blood boiled but he kept his eyes on Ophelia. Her green eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth, but she couldn’t stifle her gasp. Suddenly, the conversation ceased, and they heard the figures rushing toward the window.

  Both Ophelia and Daniel plastered themselves against the side of the building and did their best to stay still. Praying the vampires wouldn’t catch them, they hardly dared breathe. Minutes passed like hours before the group finally moved away from the window.

  “It was probably some sort of animal,” the woman said. “I believe it might be prudent for us to meet somewhere else tomorrow night, however.”

  “Agreed,” said Nasal, and Twangy grunted his assent.

  They said no more, but Daniel could hear them moving about the building. Ophelia waved her hands in the reverse pattern of the original, causing the green light to glow and fade around her hands as her skin reabsorbed the power.

  She turned her gaze to Daniel, horror darkening her beautiful hazel eyes. “We can’t let them do that to Gwen,” she told him, her low voice frantic. “Not after they’ve killed her husband. We need to find out where she’s being held, and we need to find out now.”

  Daniel nodded. “You’re right.” He paused while he thought for a moment. “I have a couple of ideas about who I can talk to for information. If we can get the right lead, maybe we can find her sooner.”

  Ophelia moved away from the wall. “Right. Either way, we need to get out of here before they realize that wasn’t an animal.”

  “Too late, bitch.” Twangy sneered as he rounded the corner, closely followed by the other two vampires. The man and woman looked at one another, sharing a twisted smile.

  “Y’all heard a lil’ bit of our conversation, there, dincha?” He leered at Ophelia, lips twisting upward and baring his teeth. “You got a bunch a pretty hair. Want me ta show ya what I’m gonna do ta yer’ lil’ friend?”

  “Now, Jericho,” the woman purred, “we don’t have time for you to play with your food. Take care of her – quickly – while Bruce deals with the other one.”

  The man she addressed glared at her for a second before looking back at Ophelia. “Whatever ya’ say, ma’am. I’m gonna enjoy ‘er blood, anyway.” Jericho lunged toward Ophelia, but before he made contact, Daniel was at her side. He grabbed her roughly by the arms and flung her behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  Ophelia hit the ground so hard, the impact knocked the wind from her lungs. She gasped for breath as she twisted to watch the ensuing battle. Almost faster than her eyes could follow, Daniel pulled the ten-inch blade he’d hidden in the sheath built into his tall boot. Eyes glinting, he and the vampire they called “Bruce” circled each other, both gauging reactions, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Again and again they slowly revolved, Jericho and the female vampires calling to Bruce, egging him on.

  Roaring with impatience, Bruce surged forward, making the first move.

  Daniel spun just out of his reach, completing his turn and using his momentum to come up behind his attacker. His wicked blade made a sharp arc as it sliced through Bruce’s neck as if the skin and tissue was nothing more than bread and butter. Blood sprayed, soaking multiple bricks on the side of the building, the ground, and splattering across Ophelia’s face, drawing a surprised shriek from her. Bruce turned to dust.

  Squealing in disgust, Ophelia pawed at her face, smearing the blood across her cheeks, but her actions only succeeded in drawing the attention of the woman. Her skin crawled as she recognized her from some of her meetings with Jeremiah. Jericho, the one with the nasally voice, sneered and focused his sights on Daniel, charging forward and slamming into the man. Their bodies collided with bone-crunching force, the sound reverberating through the night.

  The woman threw back her hood, her bright red hair burning in the moonlight, a dark smile curling her lips, her teeth flashing. Her name was Meredith, and she was Jeremiah’s current lover and right-hand psycho. Great. “Perfect. I can finish you off while your man is busy,” the vampire hissed. “He may live–” Meredith grinned, gesturing toward Daniel and licking her lips– “but you won’t.”

  Ophelia scrambled backward, her frantic hands clawing at the damp ground, as her heart slammed against her ribs. Fear was acid on her tongue, an electrical charge that lit up her veins. It blurred her vision and stole the moisture from her mouth. A scream rose in her throat, lodging there as the vampire advanced, murder bright in her dark green eyes. Ophelia’s back hit the building behind her, trapping her against the cool bricks, and shocking her back to sense—she was not helpless. Jeremiah’s bitch had no idea who she was messing with.

  Ophelia smiled as she rose unsteadily to her feet, lifting her blood-splattered chin and tossing her hair back.

  Her eyes, hot with challenge, locked on Meredith, and she said softly, "You wanna bet?"

  Ophelia's hands blurred as she brought them up, inhaling a slow, steady breath. Green tinged her vision as her eyes began to glow, and she saw true fear on the vampire's face. Meredith stopped in her tracks, eyes wide, hands up in surrender—not that Ophelia believed that for a second. Without giving the vampire a chance to react, Ophelia threw out her arms, her power raking down her limbs and shooting forth as she released her breath. Her aim true, she hit Meredith squarely in the chest.

  A black spot bloomed between the vampire’s breasts, incinerating skin and cloth with equal fervor. With eyes glowing red, Meredith tossed her head back, screaming, while she clawed at the growing mark. Her skin greying, flames gathered in the center of the spot, growing, growing, until the vampire was a crackling ball of flame. Light flashed, bright as the day for a moment, followed by a loud bang.

  The vampire exploded in a puff of ash that coated Ophelia’s hair and clothes. Spots swam before her eyes as she swayed, lowering her gaze and panting for breath as she cautiously reigned in her power. She'd never produced anything so strong, and it was overwhelming. Shaking, she looked for Daniel, finding him locked in his death-dance with Jericho. The other vampire lashed out, his fist connecting with Daniel’s jaw with such force it snapped his head to the side.

  Daniel chuckled, rolling his neck and shifting his grip on the knife. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

  Jericho snarled as they circled around again, his body vibrating with impatience. Ophelia made eye contact with Daniel, her pulse raging in her temples. He shook his head, but she ignored him. She wanted to help. Steeling her resolve, she pushed off with her heels, rushing Jericho and kicking his feet out from under him, giving Daniel the opening he needed. He pounced, pinning the stunned vampire to the ground, his blade to Jericho's throat.

  Ophelia leaned over him. "Tell us where you're keeping Gwen, and who you’re setting a trap for."

  "Fuck you," Jericho spat.

  Ophelia shook her head, her power surging again as she placed her hand palm down
on his cheek. "Wrong answer.”

  Daniel cursed and jerked back, taking care not to allow his skin to touch Jericho’s. Steam rose from Ophelia's hand as the vampire’s flesh burned. He screamed out in agony, bucking and thrashing wildly. The sound of tires on gravel had Daniel’s head snapping up, and a spotlight illuminated the grass a foot away from where they sat.

  “Cops!” Ophelia hissed, yanking her hand away from Jericho and spinning around, her eyes widening in fear. Daniel raised his knife, preparing to stab Jericho through his heart. Unfortunately, the cop chose that moment to exit his vehicle. The officer walked cautiously in their direction with his gun drawn.

  Blinking in shock, the cop stopped, leveling his weapon at them. "Hands in the air!”

  Daniel sheathed his dagger before the cop could see it and raised his hands. He rose to his feet with exaggerated slowness, and Ophelia mimicked his stance, but the vampire on the ground ignored the officer’s order. Jericho shot to his feet and sped off faster than any human was capable.

  The cop's eyes widened, and he lowered his gun as his mouth dropped open in astonishment. "What the hell?"

  Daniel took advantage of his distraction, rushed over, knocked his weapon into the grass, gripped his chin and locked eyes with him. Ophelia had no idea what Daniel was doing, but the cop angled his head to the side as his eyes went glassy.

  Daniel turned briefly to speak to Ophelia, his voice filled with restrained violence. "Go to the truck, Phia. This won't hold him long."

  Not understanding what “this” was, Ophelia ran for the truck without question, assuming he followed her. When she opened the door to the truck, however, Daniel wasn't there. Ophelia frowned and debated going back, but before she could make up her mind, Daniel appeared around the corner. Relief washed through her, closely followed by disgust. With one look at the blood on his face, she knew what had held him back.

  They climbed silently into the truck. After twenty minutes on the road, there was still no sign of talking. Multiple times throughout the trip back, Daniel started to say something, but one glance in Ophelia's direction suggested he stay quiet. She looked pale, annoyed, and vulnerable, and he knew at least two of those feelings were caused by him.

  Carissa may have asked for Ophelia’s help, but Daniel was the one who insisted she keep her promise, and now she had killed someone. He knew all too well the effect that had on a person. Not too long before, Aden had killed Jasmine, one of the Vampire Council members, and a werewolf Enforcer under their employ, and it was something that still plagued Daniel's conscience. Neither Jasmine nor the werewolf would have been there, and Aden wouldn’t have killed anyone, if Daniel hadn’t been the one pulling the strings.

  The one thing Aden and Ophelia's situations had in common was him.

  Daniel pulled her truck into the driveway, cursing when Ophelia jumped out before it stopped moving. She hurried away so fast, he had to use his vampire speed to ensure she didn't lock him out.

  He wasn't surprised when she rounded on him the minute he closed the door, but the slap she delivered once he was within range sent him reeling – she was strong, and clearly, very, very angry.

  "You son of a bitch!” She fumed at him.

  Shocked, Daniel stretched his jaw and attempted to apologize. "I'm sorry for—"

  "For what? For leaving me to walk back alone while you fed on someone? While you fed on a cop? Are you insane?"

  Daniel stared at her, flabbergasted. "But I thought— you killed—" He paused and shook his head. That was not the direction he expected the conversation to take. "I'm a vampire, Phia! I must feed on humans to survive! Would you rather I went after you?"

  Ophelia stepped back, her eyes wide. "You wouldn't."

  Daniel sighed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Of course, I wouldn't. Phia, you've been with me all night. Haven’t I shown you that I won't hurt you?"

  "Well, yeah, but…you-have-blood-on-your-mouth.” She finished in a rush.

  Daniel blinked. So, that was the problem? He laughed. “My dear, Phia, I think you may want to check your mirror, as I’m not the only one covered in blood, here.”

  Her mouth fell open, and she raised one hand to her cheek. He saw the change in her eyes, but Ophelia said nothing before turning and retreating down the hall to her bathroom. After a moment’s hesitation, Daniel followed.

  He found Ophelia standing in front of the sink, warm water running over a washcloth, her eyes closed, with her forehead leaning against the glass of the medicine cabinet. Despite her animosity, and possibly because of it, Daniel wanted to gather her in his arms for a hug, but he knew she wouldn’t accept it…or him.

  He moved beside her, staying out of the view of the mirror. He didn’t want her opening her eyes and seeing his distorted reflection on top of everything else. He listened to her sigh.

  “Why did you start calling me ‘Phia’?” Her voice was low and weary.

  Daniel leaned against the doorjamb and crossed his arms, wondering how honest he needed to be. Then, ignoring the urge to be cautious, he told her the truth, the Cajun lilt he usually tried to mask peeking through as he spoke: “Your name is beautiful, classical, but your nickname is dark and sultry. Just like you.”

  Now her eyes opened, and she looked at him, suspicion on her face. Daniel shrugged. “You asked.”

  Ophelia shook her head. Clearly that wasn’t what she expected him to say, and Daniel didn’t bother trying to suppress his grin. It was fun to throw her off her footing. She’d made it quite clear being near to him was nothing more than a necessity to her, but he was a bit more open minded.

  Watching Ophelia kick ass tonight had sent his attraction into overdrive, and he couldn’t wait until the day she saw past his…condition. He wouldn’t allow himself to think that wouldn’t happen. He wouldn’t give up until it did.

  Ophelia watched Daniel leave with a mixture of relief and longing. He was just stepping out to use his phone, but damn it, she had the strongest urge to apologize for her reaction to his feeding on the cop. Hell, if she had been in his position, she may have done the same thing—he was doing as his nature dictated, and probably saving their lives in the process. Oh, to hell with it. She liked him, damn it.

  She had her hand on the doorjamb when his words floated back to her on the night.

  “I know she’s hiding something, and no, I don’t know what.”

  Daniel tapped his foot impatiently.

  “Yes, I’m aware of that.” Another impatient tap. “There was nothing wrong with the last shipment, so don’t give me that shit. I don’t care if you have a thousand new jobs to cover at night, I’m not hitting up Sean for more product.” Daniel shook his head. “No. The answer is no, and it will stay no until I know for sure you’re doing your part to keep her safe.”

  He was silent for a moment, even the tapping of his foot stilled, then, “Yes, I already knew she was your job, and you need to come clean before things get any worse.” He sighed. “Yes, I do, too. Do I have your word?”

  The tapping began again. “Damnit, you work for my brother. Do this, or I swear to God, I’ll spill your secrets, myself—to everyone. Nothing, I repeat, nothing is more important than Ophelia’s safety. Period.”

  There was another brief moment of silence. “Good. And C? Be careful.”

  Ophelia stomped away from the door, gritting her teeth with every step. The gall of the man! He was hiding something. And trying to protect me. She shook her head. No. It was a damn secret. She spun on her heel and threw out her hand, but before she could touch the door, he was there, blocking the entryway.

  “Get out,” the words spit out as if from a meat grinder, coarse, angry, and full of venom, but Daniel didn’t flinch.

  He took two long strides inside, and kicked the door closed behind him. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Try again, Phia.”

  Hissing like an angry cat, she flung out her hand. Bright yellow light flew from her fingertips. Daniel simply narrowed his eyes as it struck him in
the chest, doing absolutely nothing to faze him. Ophelia sucked in a shocked breath.

  “What the hell?”

  A smile touched Daniel’s lips as he moved forward, backing her down the dark hallway until the far wall halted her progress. He braced his hands on either side of her, caging her in. Ophelia swallowed hard. His eyes were glowing a bright, luminescent blue, and she was having trouble remembering why she was mad at him in the first place. There was something about…

  His lips caressed her jaw, bringing her thoughts to a stuttering halt. “You think too much, sorceress,” he muttered, moving up to nuzzle her ear.

  Closing her eyes, Ophelia fought the urge to melt against him. When did everything turn so far around? I’m supposed to be mad at him. “You need to back up,” she told him, but instead of her words sounding final, they came out breathy and unsure.

  Daniel’s breath tickled her skin as he made his way along the curve of her shoulder. She moved her arms, pressing the palms of her hands against his chest. Her push was feeble, and made him chuckle as he pulled back to look her in the eyes. His lips twitched.

  “Admit it,” he whispered, stroking his thumb over her cheek, “you like me.”

  Ophelia shook her head, not sure if she was trying to convince him or herself. “No,” she whispered back. He was protecting me…

  Daniel leaned his head forward. “Then stop me.”

  But she didn’t want to. The heat of him caressed her skin, the heat of them mingling between their bodies, and she couldn’t deny her feelings any longer. From the first moment she’d seen him in her dreams, all signs led to this moment. And she was going to take it as far as it would go. Her fingers tensed as she grabbed a fistful of his shirt, jerking his mouth to within a fraction of hers. Her tongue darted out in a teasing invitation.

 

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