by Donna Grant
WILD
FEVER
A CHIASSON STORY
DONNA GRANT
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
WILD FEVER
© 2014 by DL Grant, LLC
Excerpt from The Craving copyright © 2014 by Donna Grant
Cover design © 2013 by Leah Suttle
ISBN 10: 098899478X
ISBN 13: 978-0988994782
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit this book, or a portion thereof, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
www.DonnaGrant.com
Available in ebook and print editions
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
A special thanks goes out to my family who lives in the bayous of Louisiana. Those summers I spent there are some of my most precious memories. I also need to send a shout-out to my team – Melissa Bradley, Stephanie Dalvit, and Leah Suttle. You guys are the bomb. Seriously. Hats off to my editor, Chelle Olsen, and cover design extraordinaire, Leah Suttle. Thank you all for helping me to keep my crazy schedule and get this story out!
Steve, Gillian, and Connor, thanks for putting up with my hectic schedule of writing and for knowing when it was time that I got out of the house for a spell. And for Lexi, Sheba, Sassy, Tinkerbell, and Diego who love to walk on the keyboard or demand some loving regardless of what I’m doing.
Last but not least, my readers. You have my eternal gratitude for the amazing support you show me and my books. Y’all rock my world. Stay tuned at the end of this story for the very first sneak peek of The Craving, Rogues of Scotland book 1 out March 10, 2014. Enjoy!
Xoxo
Donna
CHAPTER ONE
Southwest Louisiana
June
Vincent Chiasson closed his eyes and remained hunched down at the end of the dock. The air was heavy, the heat oppressive even at midnight.
He heard the telltale splash as a gator on the other side of the bayou entered the water. Off to his right was a hiss from a water moccasin, and all around him the sounds of the bayou filled the night.
But none of that was what he searched for. It was the creatures of the night that he hunted, the beings that people only thought lived in imaginations and movies.
It was what the Chiasson’s had done for centuries. It all began in France, continued in Nova Scotia, and followed them all the way to Louisiana.
A scream split the air. Vincent’s eyes snapped open as he jerked his head to the left. He stood and rushed back down the pier until he reached solid ground. He knew the land as well as he knew himself.
He knew every stump, every curve in the swamp. Vincent ran as fast as the wind to find the woman before the creature could attack again.
Another scream rent the air, this one full of fear...and death.
Vincent pumped his legs faster. He jumped over a log and slid to a stop next to the water’s edge. Every instinct told him that he had to hurry to the woman, but stealth was all that would get him close to the creature.
With his breathing ragged, Vincent silently stepped into the bayou. The water was up to his knees, but didn’t make a ripple as he entered.
A gator eyed him off to his right. Vincent moved farther to the left, hoping to come up around and behind the creature he hunted.
“Please!” a woman yelled. “Someone help!”
Vincent ground his teeth together, and reached down where his machete was attached to the outside of his right thigh. He pulled out the blade and kept his gaze ahead. His three brothers would be closing in on the beast as well. It would end this night.
The woman and the creature were about fifty feet from him on a small outcropping. The full moon shed enough light that Vincent could make out the woman trying her best to climb to her feet. Her hands clawed at the earth, and she kept looking behind herself.
Vincent was determined to kill the being tonight. He crept to the left where a grove of cypress trees nestled. As soon as he climbed out of the bayou, he was ready to kill.
He slunk closer, keeping his legs bent and his body in the shadows. When he was only twenty feet away he saw the creature. It was hulking, with dark fur and unimaginable claws, yet he couldn’t get a look at its face.
It loomed over the woman, and Vincent knew it was now or never. He burst out of the trees, his machete raised as the woman’s scream echoed through the bayou once more.
Vincent skidded to a halt when he came to the woman. The creature was gone, and blood coated everything. He knelt next to her and winced.
“Molly Guidry,” Lincoln’s voice said from behind him. “That makes three in a week.”
Vincent stood and faced his brother. “I don’t need a recount, Linc. I know exactly how many have been killed.”
“Son of a bitch,” Beau mumbled as he came out of the bayou.
Lincoln ran a hand down his face. “I thought we had it for sure this time.”
“So did I.” Vincent had set everything up perfectly. They should have had the creature.
Beau looked around. “Where’s Christian?”
The three began to look for their other brother until a whistle had them turning to their right.
“There,” Lincoln said.
While his two brothers went to Christian, Vincent remained with Molly’s body. He had known her since the day she was born. Their parents had been close, and consequently they were often together. At one time, Molly had been infatuated with Christian.
Vincent looked over at Christian. Did he know it was Molly? Damn, but this mess was getting out of control. They had known all three victims.
That wasn’t too difficult in their small Cajun town, but it didn’t make things easier. Just like contacting Molly’s parents was going to be one of the hardest things he had ever done.
Lincoln walked back over and squatted beside him. “I told Christian it was Molly. Did you know they went out just last week?”
“No.” Vincent didn’t like the unease that rippled through him. Was it coincidence that Molly had been killed? “I thought she had given up on Christian.”
“We all did.” Lincoln blew out a breath. “He’s not taking this well.”
Vincent stood and shook his head at the gruesome sight. “What did Christian find?”
“Claw marks.”
“We’re hunting a creature we haven’t even identified. We’re completely fucked.”
Lincoln slapped him on the back. “We’ve always figured it out in the past. We will this time as well.”
“I have my doubts. We were in perfect placement to find this bastard. How the hell did it get away without us seeing or hearing it?”
Vincent didn’t wait for his brother to respond, because there was nothing to say. He bent and gently lifted Molly in his arms.
“Want me to go with you?” Lincoln asked.
Vincent shook his head. “You three see what else you can find. I’ll meet you at the house.”
“Mom and Pop always knew what to say to the families. You’ve got their gift as well.”
He sincerely doubted it. Most in the parish knew what the Chiassons did, but that didn’t always mean they were welcomed into houses. Chiassons were respected, but feared. It made for a lonely life.
It was a long walk through the bayou to the Guidry’s. He heard crying before he even saw the house. When he moved out of the tree line where the edge of the light caught his shape, a man stepped forward.
Hank Guidry, Molly’s father. Vincent drew in a deep breath and co
ntinued until he reached Hank. On the porch the crying grew louder, wracked with pain.
“I knew something was wrong when she didn’t come home from locking up the store,” Hank said brokenly as he stared at his daughter. “She’s never late.”
Vincent looked at the ground. How he hated this part of the family business. No matter how many times he did it, it never got easier.
“Did you kill it?” Hank asked.
It was the viciousness in his voice that drew Vincent’s gaze. The need for revenge, the yearning to hurt something as he had been hurt, shone in Hank’s eyes as clearly as the moon in the sky.
“We almost had it.” Vincent knew it wouldn’t be enough. It never was.
“Almost!” Celine screamed from the screened porch. “You almost had it? Isn’t that your job, Vincent Chiasson? Don’t you hunt these evil things? How could you have let it get my baby? My only child?”
Each word was like a knife to his gut. Vincent moved past Hank and made his way to the porch. He shouldered open the screen door, walked past Celine, and then into the house.
Vincent carefully set Molly on the couch and turned to leave, only to have Hank block his way.
“This was never supposed to happen to my baby girl,” Hank said as tears coursed down his face. He pulled off his glasses and shook his head. “I’ll help in any way that I can to kill this creature, Vincent. I helped your father on occasion. I’ll do the same for you.”
Vincent rested his hand on Hank’s shoulder. “Be here for your wife. Bury your daughter. If God’s willing, we’ll have killed this thing by then. If not...I’ll give you a shout.”
He walked to the doorway and paused. When he looked back, Hank and Celine had their arms around each other as they mourned their daughter.
By the time Vincent returned home, he was in a foul mood. He let the screen door slam behind him. Next to the door were three sets of boots, one for each of his brothers. The only ones missing were the smaller pink pair.
That was his doing though. Vincent had sent Riley off to college in Texas in order to give her a chance at a normal life, one that didn’t include hunting in the bayou in the middle of the night.
That had been three years ago. It felt more like three lifetimes, but it had been for the best.
Vincent began to remove his muddy boots when the door opened. Beau walked out to the back porch, handed Vincent a bottle of beer, and took one of the rocking chairs.
There were no words as they both took a long drink of the beer. Vincent sprawled out on the swing with one leg hanging down.
“Tough one. You should’ve let one of us go with you,” Beau said.
“Did y’all find anything else?”
“Not a goddamn thing. I tell you, Vin, this thing knows us. It knows what we’re looking for.”
Vincent squeezed the bridge of his nose with this thumb and forefinger. “Let’s hope to hell you’re wrong.”
“We haven’t even figured out what it is.”
He wasn’t saying anything Vincent didn’t already know. “We need a new plan of attack. If we can find where this thing is hiding out, we can kill it before it hurts anyone else.”
The door to the house was thrown open, and Christian walked out followed by Lincoln. They each took a chair, though Christian chose the one farthest from them all.
Vincent didn’t know how close his brother had been to Molly. It was rare that a Chiasson dated anyone from the parish because of the family name. It was even more rare when a Chiasson actually found a woman that he wanted to ask out. But as their father had often said, they had to keep the line going so more creatures could be killed.
“Riley called,” Christian said to break the silence.
Lincoln let out a string of curses while Beau just shook his head as he peeled off the label to his beer.
Vincent looked at Christian to find his brother’s gaze on him. “What did she say?” Vincent finally asked.
“She was checking in.”
“You didn’t tell her about what was going on, did you?” Beau asked.
Christian gave him a droll look. “Do you think I’m that thick? I was in agreement about sending her off. Of course I didn’t tell her anything.”
Vincent scrubbed a hand down his face. He was the eldest, the one who was supposed to keep everyone in line and focused. It had seemed like an easy job when he was younger.
And when their parents had still been alive.
“What’s the plan?” Lincoln asked.
Vincent drained the rest of his beer and looked at the amber colored bottle. “We go back out at first light. We split up and search every inch of the bayou. That thing is somewhere out there. I won’t rest until it’s dead.”
For the next hour, the four of them discussed which sections of the bayou they would each take, as well as individuals they knew they could get to help.
Lincoln was the first to call it a night, and Beau soon followed. Vincent rose from the swing and stood at the edge of the porch staring through the screen to the bayou beyond.
“I didn’t know you had found someone, Christian. I’m sorry it ended the way it did.”
Wood creaked as Christian rose from the chair and came to stand beside him. “I liked Molly. I’d probably have asked her out again, but I wasn’t in love with her.”
“It doesn’t make it hurt any less. You knew her.”
“Do you ever wish we had been born to a normal family? The kind that goes to the movies, bails their kids out of jail for buying beer underage, and stays out past curfew on Friday nights?”
Vincent rested his forearm against a wood beam and chuckled. “For most of my life. It’s not easy being a Chiasson.”
“Dad was married and had you and Lincoln by the time he was your age. How long until you marry, Vin? Do you think you ever will? Hell, will any of us?”
Vincent wished he had answers for his brother, but he didn’t. “Let’s focus on one thing at a time. We need to find this creature and see what it is so we can kill it. We also need to go to Molly’s funeral, and then over to Deb’s for lunch on Sunday after church.”
“That’s a lot to do in three days,” Christian said with a hint of a smile. He raised his beer bottle to Vincent before he lifted it to his lips. “Do you really think we can catch this creature?”
“Yes.”
“Always so sure of things. That must make sleeping easier for you. Me, I’m not so certain. This...thing...is quick. It attacks differently every time, and we’ve barely gotten a look at it.”
Vincent ran his thumb around the mouth of his empty beer. “Everything can be killed. Remember that, little brother.”
CHAPTER TWO
Olivia Breaux adjusted her hands on the steering wheel as she took the exit off of I-10 toward Crowley. The closer she got to the small town she had left behind the night of her high school graduation, the more she felt as if someone were sitting on her chest.
She drove through Crowley taking in the sights, and was amazed to find that very little had changed. To her, Crowley had been the “big town”. She hadn’t understood just how small Crowley was until she saw Dallas for the first time.
Olivia had sworn then and there never to go back. Yet nine years later here she was, going home.
With Crowley behind her, the buildings gave way to pasture and rice fields. Life seemed to slow to a crawl in the bayou, matching the movement of the water.
She noticed several new homes built on what was once farmland. Fewer of the fields had rice growing, but other than that, it all seemed the same.
As she drove, her thoughts returned to the life she had once led. It seemed an eon ago, and yet she remembered Vincent Chiasson with a clarity that was startling.
She had always been infatuated with him, doing just about anything to get his attention – to no avail. Vincent, like his three other brothers, kept themselves apart from others.
The only Chiasson who didn’t was Riley. The youngest of the five, she was wild and bea
utiful – and completely protected by her four older siblings.
Olivia smiled as she recalled a party her senior year where someone had brought Riley. The best part of that night had been when Vincent had shown up to take Riley home.
He had looked like an avenging warrior, glaring his bright blue Chiasson eyes at anyone even close to Riley. Olivia would have done anything to have him protecting her like that.
She wondered what he was doing these days. She knew he and his brothers would never leave the area, but after all this time, she was sure he was married with children. And yet, she held out hope that she’d get a glimpse of him, to look from afar as she always had.
Olivia frowned when she saw traffic stopped ahead. With only one main road to and from Crowley, what little traffic there was could get backed up quickly.
She stopped the car and put it in park before she rolled down her window and leaned her head out. There was a group of people standing together and looking farther up the road.
Olivia recognized two of the women, which stopped her from getting out to see what was going on. She rolled her window back up so she wouldn’t waste the air conditioning, and inwardly groaned at her cowardice.
She was going to have to face everyone eventually. It wasn’t as if she could live there and not come in contact with others, especially those she went to school with.
With a puff of her cheeks, she blew out a breath and lowered her visor to look at herself in the small mirror. She ran her hand through her board straight black hair and grimaced.
Olivia pulled her sunglasses down her nose so she could see her black eyes as she asked herself, “What do I tell them? Do I just say that I wanted to come back?”
She snorted. “Yeah. That won’t work. The truth? Nah. I’d rather not. I’ll have to come up with something.”
A shriek flew from her lips when someone knocked on her window. She fumbled as she raised the visor, and tried to find the button to lower her window.