Wild Fever

by Donna Grant

  “Beau, yes,” she replied with a nod.

  He glanced behind him and shifted his basket from one hand to the other. “Sean will be occupied long enough for you to get in and out. Good to see you, Olivia.”

  She watched him walk away before she pulled out her list and hurried through the store grabbing the items her grandmother needed.

  ~ ~ ~

  It was Beau’s whistling that alerted Vincent that he was up to something. After another unsuccessful night, he was in a foul mood. It didn’t help that the three deaths weighed so heavily upon him.

  Vincent poured a cup of coffee and lifted the steaming liquid to his lips. He had barely taken his first sip when he saw Beau glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

  Beau deftly cut the onions, bell peppers, and ham into pieces for the omelets. “You’ll never guess who I ran into this morning.”

  Vincent didn’t need to guess. He knew. Olivia Breaux. The few hours of sleep he had gotten had been full of Olivia. Her black eyes, her midnight hair, her full lips.

  He refused to play Beau’s game though. Without a word, he turned to the table where a map of the parish drawn by their great-great grandfather lay spread. A clear sheet lay on top of it for protection so they could mark the areas they had been without marking the map.

  “Olivia Breaux,” Beau said. “Damn, Vincent, she looks hotter than ever. Didn’t you have a thing for her in school?”

  Vincent picked up the black pencil and marked the areas he had searched the night before. “I’m going to head out shortly and check the southeast side of the bayou. There are some gator nests there, so the creature shouldn’t be anywhere near that, but I want to check anyway.”

  “Olivia,” Beau persisted.

  “That’s nice,” Vincent responded. “It’s about time she returned to her grandmother. Maria is a good woman.”

  Beau grunted. “Is that really all you have to say? Isn’t it time for your weekly visit to Maria?”

  Vincent straightened and faced his brother. “Do you really need to ask? Look at Christian. If you need a reminder about our lives, think back to Dad when he found Mom. That’s what our family endures. Do you want that? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

  “We need sons and daughters to carry on the family business.” The smile was gone as a serious note filled his voice.

  Vincent knew all too well about having to carry on the family name, but he was weary of it all. “The Chiasson’s have protected this parish for over three hundred years, and in all that time we’re scorned and disparaged. Is that what you want for your children?”

  “I want children. I want a wife, a family. I want more than what I have now.”

  Vincent set down his coffee. “Then take it, Beau.”

  “Because you won’t?”

  “Because I can’t. I won’t go through what Dad did. I won’t have children and put them through what we did growing up.”

  Beau cracked two eggs at once into a bowl before tossing the shells into the garbage. He grabbed two more. “Mom went out hunting with us. She knew what could happen. So did Dad. I won’t allow my wife to hunt.”

  “Good luck with that,” Lincoln said as he walked into the kitchen from outside. He went to the sink and began to wash the grease off his hands. He dried his hands and looked from Beau to Vincent as he pulled up the sides of his long hair to secure it at the back of his head with a piece of leather. “Both generators are fixed now.”

  “Good. There’s already a hurricane headed to Florida,” Vincent said, his mind still on what Beau had said.

  Lincoln was glaring at him when Christian walked in, his arms loaded with weapons. “Damn. You’ve been busy.”

  Vincent and Lincoln exchanged a look as Christian laid out the various weapons on the dining room table that hadn’t been used since the night their parents died.

  “It’ll kill tonight,” Christian said. He lifted his favorite weapon, the crossbow, and met Vincent’s gaze. “You know it will.”

  Lincoln ran a thumb over the edge of his axe and smiled as blood formed. “Not if we have any say in it.”

  “We searched all of yesterday into last night, and didn’t find its lair,” Beau pointed out. “How are we to get the drop on it tonight?”

  Vincent pointed to a spot on the map. “I lost the beast here. That’s where I’m going to start.”

  Christian leaned over and looked at the map. “That’s the Breaux place.”

  “Olivia,” Beau said.

  Vincent nodded woodenly. “She was outside last night. The creature saw her. I thought it might attack, but then it just disappeared.”

  “Well, hell,” Lincoln stated angrily. “How did the damn thing just disappear again?”

  Christian threw a thick book down atop the table. “I think I know.”

  Vincent gazed at the leather bound book that held all the creatures that the Chiasson’s had killed through the decades. It also listed how to kill certain beasts, and just what might have brought them to the parish.

  “Start reading,” Beau said as he turned back to the stove.

  Vincent placed his hand on the book. Atop the leather was the Chiasson family crest that dated all the way back to France where their first ancestor originated.

  As children, they had poured over the entries learning all they could while their parents hunted. Once they were old enough, their father taught them how to code the beasts, and how to add pages to the books.

  “I’ve been updating the book ever since...that night,” Christian said.

  Vincent nodded in approval. “That’s good. It needed to be done.”

  There was a hiss behind them as Beau dumped the eggs into the pan. Vincent opened the book to a random page in the middle to find a detailed drawing of a banshee.

  “What did you find, runt?” Lincoln asked Christian.

  “I think someone is summoning this thing.”

  Vincent jerked his hand away from the book and took a step back. The last time a creature had been summoned was when his parents had been killed. It was their mother who had figured out the summoning.

  That night, she had been killed. Their father had gone to confront who he thought was responsible. And within hours, both of their parents were dead.

  Vincent had been the one to find their father. He had also been the one to tell his siblings. That night had left a scar inside him that still bled.

  Whoever killed his parents was back to their old tricks again. This time they wouldn’t get away with it. Vincent didn’t care how long it took, but he would kill whoever it was.

  That’s the only thing that would heal him. And bring closure to his parents’ deaths.

  “I knew they would come back,” Lincoln said with hatred dripping from his lips. “I’ve waited years for a piece of them.”

  Beau flipped the omelet over. “Stand in line, dickhead.”

  Vincent lifted his gaze to Christian. “What else did you find?”

  Christian’s brow furrowed. “Y’all aren’t going to like it.”

  “Spit it out,” Lincoln demanded.

  Christian locked gazes with Vincent. “Mom thought the person was targeting our family and friends to kill. I think it’s happening again.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  No!

  The word exploded in Vincent’s head, but he didn’t say it. His three brothers were all talking at once after Christian’s announcement. All he could do was thank God that Riley was nowhere near Louisiana at this point.

  “Vincent,” Lincoln said.

  It snapped him out of his thoughts. None of them lived that night like he had, and they all knew it. He swallowed and leaned his hands on the table as he closed his eyes, wishing he could close out the past as easily.

  “Evil was here eleven years ago. It infested the bayou until people were scared to venture out once night fell. Linc and I hunted with Mom and Dad while you two stayed with Riley.”

  Christian nodded as he pulled out a chair and sat. “I r
emember it all. I was so pissed that I couldn’t go with y’all, but Dad wanted me here to guard the house.”

  “There are times I wish I hadn’t seen what I did,” Lincoln confessed.

  It was the first time Vincent had heard such words from his brother. “I wish you hadn’t either.”

  “Riley was asleep,” Beau said. “I had just looked in on her when I heard Dad. I ran out onto the porch and saw...”

  Vincent knew why he couldn’t finish. None of them could. Not even him, and he had been with his father when they found his mother.

  She had been brutally beaten before something clawed her and then ripped her heart from her chest. After all these years, Vincent could still hear his father’s cry of grief and anger. He could still see his father rocking his mother against his chest as tears fell.

  Then the rage had taken his father.

  Vincent had done his best to keep up with him. He had known that the evil could take both of his parents that night, but he hadn’t been quick enough.

  “It’s not your fault,” Lincoln said as if sensing where Vincent’s mind had been.

  Beau cut into the omelet and took a bite. “You came back to us. Without you, the state would’ve sent us into foster care.”

  “If this thing is back, the only target that’s come close to us is Molly,” Vincent said, changing the subject. He couldn’t stand to think back to that night.

  Beau cleared his throat. “That’s not exactly true. The first victim – Lindsey – I had asked out. She was new in town.”

  “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Vincent demanded as anger began to spread inside him. “We could have connected the dots sooner if you had.”

  He then looked at Lincoln. “What about Breanne, the second victim. Did you know her?”

  “We hooked up every now and again. We were friends with benefits.”

  Vincent grabbed the plate with the omelet and threw it against the wall. He hadn’t felt this anger in eleven years. There was nothing more to say to his brothers, not when he was this infuriated.

  He stormed out to clear his head and try to figure out who was after his family. And just why they had waited eleven years to finish what they started.

  ~ ~ ~

  Olivia was so startled by the sound of her cell phone ringing that she fell off the couch. She grappled for the phone that had fallen with her, and hastily answered before she looked at the caller ID.

  “You sound groggy. Did I wake you?” Ava Ledet asked.

  Olivia leaned against the cushion and laughed. “Actually, you did. I didn’t sleep much last night, and I thought to just lay down and chill.”

  “I guess you were sleepier than you realized.”

  “Obviously.” Olivia climbed back on the couch and tried to push aside the butterflies wrecking havoc in her stomach. “I didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”

  Ava covered the phone as she spoke to someone else. “Sorry. My assistant had a question. Yeah, nothing to worry about. I wanted to check in and see how you were doing.”

  “That’s not what attorneys normally do, is it?”

  Ava chuckled, the sound rich and seductive. “No, but then I don’t consider myself a normal attorney. You were a wreck the last time I saw you.”

  “Wow. Thanks for putting it so mildly.” It was no wonder Olivia liked Ava so well. The woman put it all out there, but in a way that you adored her for it.

  “I’m not one of those women who have lots of girl friends. Well, to be honest, I don’t really have any. I’m more of a loner, which works well with being a workaholic. It’s weird, but as soon as you walked into my office I felt as if I’ve known you my whole life. As if we had always been friends.”

  Olivia smiled as she leaned her head back against the cushion. “I felt the same. I had a lot of friends at one time, and yet the more we talked, the more I realized none of those women had really been a friend.”

  “Great. So now you don’t think I’m some kind of freak or anything.”

  “I broke down in your office, Ava. I let some butt lick sway me so that he committed a crime and framed me. I’m the freak.”

  Ava made a sound through the phone. “Not even close, hon. I do have some news about Calvin.”

  That made Olivia sit up straighter. “What?”

  “You know your company had cameras all over, right? Well, I got a court order to obtain the video for the times that the computer says you were stealing the funds.”

  Olivia rubbed her eyes. “Why didn’t the company do that when I said it was Calvin?”

  “I think that’s exactly what they were doing when I arrived today with the order. I’m still waiting to get the footage from them. They have until five. Oh, and look. That’s just five minutes from now.” There was a commotion through the phone. “Gotta go. I’ll call you as soon as I know something.”

  The phone went dead before Olivia could respond. She set down her phone ran her hands through her hair. It had come loose from the ponytail.

  With a yawn, she rose and walked to the bathroom where she stared at herself in the mirror. There was nothing special about her black hair, black eyes, and dark skin so common in the Cajun culture. At just five foot two, she was on the short side, and top heavy.

  Her only redeeming feature was that her eyelashes were long and lush. At least she didn’t have to get extensions like so many of her co-workers.

  “As if that matters now,” she muttered.

  She pulled out her ponytail and let her hair fall down to the middle of her back. With a huff, she blew the long, slanted bangs out of her eyes.

  Maybe she should go out with Sean. It might be good to move on with her life as her grandmother said. At the thought of her grandmother, she realized she had been gone all day.

  Olivia walked back into the living room and looked through a window. Her grandmother’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. It wasn’t until she checked her phone that she saw the message waiting.

  She let out a sigh of relief when she heard her grandmother’s message saying she was going to stay with Grace that night since Grace wasn’t feeling well.

  That meant Olivia had the entire house to herself. She had longed for such things as a kid. Now, she didn’t relish the prospect of being alone.

  Two hours passed as she flipped through channels catching bits of shows and the news. At seven she finally fixed a sandwich and popped in Horrible Bosses. She was shocked to find her grandmother even had that movie, but she was glad, since she needed a good laugh.

  By ten, Olivia couldn’t stand to have the TV on anymore. She grabbed a beer and walked out onto the porch to inhale the sultry night air. The heat of the day still lingered long after the moon rose.

  So many nights had been spent sitting at the end of the dock with friends imagining how their futures would be. In all her dreams, her life had never turned out like the one she led.

  She hadn’t expected to live a glamorous life in front of the cameras, but she had thought to be a successful accountant, wife, and mother. The only part of that she had gotten was the accounting degree.

  Even her job hadn’t been as prestigious as she had wanted. Working for one of the top companies in Dallas had paid well, however, and she thought she was about to get the next title in her dream life – wife.

  Calvin dashed all of that in a heartbeat.

  Now there was a chance she could go to jail. Over something she didn’t do. Olivia trusted Ava to help her, but she wished she were still in Dallas to be right there through it all.

  All but ten thousand dollars of her savings had been used to remain in Dallas for as long as she had. At least she had a home to return to.

  She looked longingly at the water. After the night before, she wasn’t going out there alone. Whether it was her imagination or not, it had been a creepy experience.

  Goose bumps rose up all along her skin as she felt something behind her. She had been alone on the porch, she was sure of it. And yet, she knew without
a doubt that someone – something – was with her.

  She turned around to see a dark, hairy shape come out of the shadows and slam her into the side of the porch. Olivia fell heavily, unable to move her limbs where she wanted.

  Her eyes couldn’t focus on the thing that had hit her. She tried to call out for help. The...thing...loomed in front of her as she blinked to try and see it clearly.

  There was a low growl as it grabbed her arm. She winced when something cut her, but it paid her no heed as it began to drag her to the porch door.

  She could feel herself falling into the blackness. Olivia fought it, instinctively knowing that her life was on the line. Dimly, she heard someone shout.

  The grip on her arm tightened, and she felt something warm and wet slide down her arm. Suddenly, it released her so that her head once more banged on the wooden porch.

  “Shit!” a male voice growled.

  She heard the squeak of the porch door as it was thrown open. Large hands, tender and soothing, smoothed back the hair from her face. “Olivia? Olivia, can you hear me?”

  She forced open her eyes long enough to see a familiar face. He had hair so dark a brown it was almost black. It brushed the tops of his shoulders with a soft wave that begged to be touched.

  His face was hard and rugged. A dose of handsome that gave him a dangerous air with a scar that ran across his right cheek, and brilliant blue eyes ringed with navy that snagged her.

  Vincent was protecting her just as she had always wanted.

  Perhaps she had hit her head too hard. Vincent would never be there.

  “Olivia,” he whispered.

  Was it her imagination, or had there been a bit of longing in his voice?

  A tearing sound pulled her from the darkness. She opened her eyes again as he gently lifted her arm. The pain pulled her out of unconsciousness enough to realize she was hurt, and that it really was Vincent with her.

  Olivia looked at her arm, but all she could see was red. Was that blood? Her blood?

  She was mesmerized by how Vincent diligently wrapped her arm and tied the black bandage that looked suspiciously like his tee shirt.