Tall, Dark and Paranormal: 10 Thrilling Tales of Sexy Alpha Bad Boys

by Opal Carew

  I walked through the living room into the newer part of the house. Through the french glass doors at the back of the room, I spied Henrietta as she knelt in front of some rose bushes and clipped long stems for her basket. She had long black-brown hair and sparkling silver eyes. She and Griffin looked like the couple they were, matching in beauty, stature, and demeanor. I pushed through the door.

  She glanced up and smiled. “Lucien.” Even if I couldn’t have felt it, she communicated so much love through just that one word.

  “Hello, Henrietta.” I threaded my way through the garden toward her. She stood and brushed her hands off on her jeans. The combination of her long dark hair and short-sleeved red shirt was striking. “Your garden looks wonderful. You really have the touch.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she reached her arms out to give me a hug. “Oh, it’s so good to see you again.” Her healer’s touch soothed me immediately, as it always did. It also made her able to sense my inner turmoil. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you mind if I don’t say just yet?”

  “Okay, of course.” She hugged me tighter and held on longer than normal for a regular hug. She knew I needed her touch. Even after she pulled back, she continued to hold my right hand casually. “What brings you to see us?” She added quickly, “Not that you need any special reason…”

  I chuckled. “I just needed to get away for a few days. To think. You know.”

  She nodded, then looked up. “Hey. Do you want to take a quick run over to the cemetery before the sun rises? We could take some of these cuttings.”

  “That’s a nice idea. Thanks.” I knew some part of my trip here would entail a visit to the family cemetery. I needed to talk to Lena, although I didn’t want company when I did it. Henrietta bent down and grabbed a thick bouquet of roses of all colors into her hands, and we took off.

  Before long, we walked through the iron gate of the cemetery. Most of the remains dated to 1792, the year an Indian attack devastated this part of New York. Griffin saved a number of the victims by changing them and forming his—my—family. Though my human family had died far away in New York City, Catherine had tried to ease me by bringing their remains to rest with everyone else’s families. That act was one of the many things that bound the two of us together so closely.

  Unsurprisingly, bouquets of white roses already decorated each of the plots. I had arrived at Orchard Hill days after my change in 1895 and stayed for forty-three years before circumstances necessitated my departure. My last request to Rebecca had been to look after my family’s graves.

  Henrietta handed me the freshly cut stems. I selected a handful of roses for each of them, then knelt and leaned them against the headstones. I sat back on my heels. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you and Rebecca have done this all these years.”

  She sat down in the grass next to me and crossed her legs in front of her. “You’re welcome, Lucien. But you should know the others do it, too. It’s not just me and Rebecca.” My eyes widened in response. “We all miss you, Lucien. Bringing the flowers out to your family feels like a way of being closer to you. We all want that. So everyone has helped.”

  The warmth of her affection was obvious; she was not trying to make me feel guilty, but I still looked down at the ground. She took my hand again. The sense of peace was immediate. I smiled up at her.

  “Hey, guess what I’ve been doing?” she prompted.

  “What’s that?” I shifted my position to face her, smiling at her excitement.

  “I’ve been volunteering at the Ithaca Free Clinic. For about eight months now. I decided to finally put the medical degree to some use.” She beamed. She’d finished her medical degree more than twenty years before but always feared the idea of practicing, feared that if she spent time in the presence of humans, someone might find her out.

  “That’s incredible, Henrietta. Congratulations.”

  “It’s only two days a week, but it’s been really great. And it’s easier to pass than I thought.”

  I was so comfortable with her I almost blurted out she and Samantha would have a lot to talk about. The thought stuck in my throat like a swallowed canary. She noticed and smiled patiently. We talked for a few minutes more and then returned to the house before we pushed our luck with the sun. Minutes later, the five of us sprawled out on the couches and chairs in front of the flat screen in the great room.

  “Let’s watch a movie,” Rebecca declared as she walked over to a built-in cabinet and popped open the door. “Thoughts?” She scanned the DVD cases. Everyone called out suggestions as the front door opened and closed.

  We looked up to see Catherine standing at the top of the great-room steps. She was a beautiful creature, her long brown hair sleek and thick and her ice blue eyes a dazzling contrast. Her trim body and unusual height made her appear statuesque, as did her flawless porcelain skin. She was seductive in a pair of skinny jeans tucked into ankle boots and a mostly unbuttoned button-down blue blouse with short fluttery sleeves.

  When she saw me, she paled and gaped. Her emotions were all over the place and washed through me: bewilderment, surprise, happiness, sadness, relief. The sensory overload threatened dizziness.

  She felt what I was feeling. Of course she did.

  She was an empath just as I was, only much stronger. Her power worked over greater distances, especially with those with whom she had had certain…connections.

  “You’re in l—” She registered my head shake and cut herself off.

  The others looked back and forth between us. Our shared gift was part of what had drawn us so close together for so many years. It allowed us to carry out nearly wordless conversations.

  I was torn. Part of me wanted to go off and talk to her privately and felt I owed it to her given our history, and part wanted to stay right where I was in the midst of the group so I didn’t have to talk at all.

  In the end, I just wasn’t ready to have this conversation. With anybody.

  She stared at me for a minute and registered my reluctance, then took a seat on the chair across from me. She kicked off her boots and wrapped her legs up next to her.

  In the meantime, Rebecca and Jed decided on some stupid humor movie about actors who thought they were filming a war movie but didn’t realize the director had been killed and they really were in hostile territory. It was over the top and hilarious. I laughed freely, which elicited several relieved and curious glances from around the room. My laughter wasn’t a sound they heard often. Catherine didn’t laugh once.

  I kept my eyes on the television, but my brain was expansive enough to register she never stopped watching me. Her patience wavered.

  When the movie ended, it finally ran out. “So, do you want to do this here in front of everyone or elsewhere with just me?”

  Everyone gaped and their surprise tingled in the pit of my stomach.

  “Come on, Lucien. You clearly came here to talk to us about this. You knew I would know.” Catherine’s voice sounded more calm and patient than her emotions felt.

  I ran my fingers through my hair and rested my hands on top of my head. The room was silent. “Yes.” I looked at Catherine and knew she would know which of her questions I was answering. A long moment passed.

  “Yes, what?” Rebecca, Catherine’s sister in life and death, glanced back and forth between us, frustrated at our ability to communicate this way.

  Henrietta gasped and threw her hands up in front of her mouth. Her eyes widened, but filled with love and happiness. She’d figured it out.

  Rebecca looked at Henrietta. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

  Taking a deep breath, I pictured Samantha and Ollie. “I…I have met someone.”

  “You’re in love!” Rebecca bounced on her knees on the couch. Jed hugged her into him.

  I nodded and failed to hold back a grin. The atmosphere vibrated with their excitement for me. Griffin smiled with satisfaction, while Henrietta and Rebecca radiated absolute delight. They knew I’d al
most never allowed myself happiness before for fear it would represent a betrayal. My gaze drifted over to Catherine.

  Her concern had been replaced almost entirely with her acceptance and happiness for me. Although she was still confused. “Why do you feel so tortured about this?”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Rebecca mouthing Lena’s name to Catherine. I smirked. “Uh, no, Rebecca. Well, yes, but no.”

  Catherine’s voice was nearly a whisper. “Oh, my God, Lucien. You are completely in love with this woman. Is she part of Laumet’s coven?”

  Suddenly, the sheer absurdity of my situation overwhelmed me. I laughed. Hard. I wrapped my arms around my waist and slumped over on the couch. Everyone looked at me like I was a complete lunatic, which of course I was, but I couldn’t help myself.

  I was having a hard time summoning the courage to admit she was human, and I couldn’t even begin to imagine a conversation wherein I admitted to her I was a vampire. Maybe this was one of those “if you can’t talk about it, you shouldn’t be doing it” things. That made me laugh harder. Altogether, I was nearly one hundred forty years old. Yet I felt like a teenager about to reveal to my parents I was dating someone from the wrong side of the tracks.

  “Dude. You are fucked.” Rebecca swatted Jed hard on the arm. “What? He is. Look at him. He finally went off the deep end. It’s not like we weren’t all wondering when it would happen.”

  “Jed!” Rebecca smacked him again.

  I pushed myself up. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d laughed that hard. It was physical proof of what I now knew I was feeling.

  I took a deep breath and looked at Catherine. There was nothing but acceptance there. In that moment, I was so grateful for the reconciliation we had achieved twenty years before that enabled us to go from being exes to best friends once again.

  Catherine smiled, then whispered, “Whoever she is, Lucien, I am so happy for you. I love her, because she has made you feel this way, because she has made you come alive after all these years.”

  I crossed the room to her, and she met me halfway. I embraced her and murmured low enough for her and her alone to hear, “Of all people, I so needed to hear that from you. Thank you, Catherine.”

  When we stepped apart, I led her back to the couch and pulled her down next to me. We continued to hold hands as I scanned the group.

  “Sorry. I realize I’m a bit of a basket case—”

  “A bit?”

  I threw a pillow at Jed as I smiled. “Trust me, brother. I am intimately familiar with my own insanity.” I looked down at my hand intertwined with Catherine’s. “Okay. Here goes. Please try to keep all editorial comments to yourselves until I get this out.” I glanced at Rebecca who feigned offense.

  “I am in love with a woman named Samantha Sutton. She is human. And she is the mother of a five-year-old girl named Olivia, although she prefers Ollie. And if that isn’t awkward enough, I started out stalking this woman with the intent to kill her. I ran into her at the hospital where she works—she’s a nurse.” I looked at Henrietta and could imagine how they would get along. “Her feelings were so joyous and brought me such pleasure, euphoria even.” I turned to Catherine then. “It was so intense.”

  Catherine nodded and squeezed my hand.

  “I couldn’t resist. I wanted her…that. I wanted more. I’m mortified to admit I planned to take her. But then I ran into her one day, and she talked to me. I told myself it was just another way to experience her as I planned her demise, but with each meeting, I got to know her. I convinced myself what I was feeling for her weren’t my feelings at all, but was the strength of her emotions within me. And maybe that was true. I don’t know. But then it hit me. I want her. But not in me. With me.” I looked down. “For as long as she’ll have me.”

  Feeling exposed, I clamped my mouth shut and waited for their reactions.

  The room was tense and still, but then all hell broke loose. Everyone started talking at once.

  Catherine’s raised voice claimed the floor. “My original reaction stands. I am happy for you. I get it’s complicated. But you deserve to be happy, Lucien. And if she is what makes you happy, then you should pursue her. Carefully.”

  Jed scoffed. “That’s easy for you to say, Catherine. You sleep with human men all the time. But having sex and having a relationship with them are two different things.”

  When Henrietta’s quiet voice interrupted, everyone stilled. “Have you met the child?” Henrietta’s young son died in the Indian attack, so I knew she would react to this part of the situation.

  “Yes.”

  She let my answer hang there for a minute. “And?”

  “I actually met her first. I didn’t realize she was Samantha’s daughter. I like her. And she really seems to like me. She looks at me, and meets my eyes. God, she hugs me. She held my hand the other day—”

  Henrietta tried to suppress a gasp. “You love the child.”

  I had been so focused on Samantha, I hadn’t thought as much about my feelings for Ollie.

  Catherine put her arm around my shoulders. “It’s okay to say yes, Lucien. It’s not a betrayal.”

  She was right. That was my fear, the source of my hesitation. I wasn’t convinced. I offered a small nod to Catherine, and then looked at Henrietta and did it again.

  “Forgive me for asking. Please. But are you in control of yourself enough to know you pose no threat to the girl?” Her question was not out of line. While some consumed the blood of children because of its purity and raw power, it was a line most vampires didn’t cross.

  “Don’t apologize, Henrietta. But she doesn’t tempt my bloodlust. I’ve been around her, even alone, numerous times. I would never hurt her. I’m in control—”

  “Lucien, how will you…what will you…ugh. Okay, they’re going to notice you don’t age or eat or anything.” Rebecca’s eyes were sympathetic.

  “I know.” I sighed as I tugged my hair out of my face. “I don’t know.” Thinking again of Henrietta’s question, I met her eyes. “The way Ollie looks at me. She has completely accepted me. I can’t begin to understand it. Samantha says she talks about me all the time—”

  “You don’t just love her…you feel fatherly toward her.” Henrietta placed her hand over her mouth. “Oh, Lucien.”

  I swallowed thickly and looked down, realizing the truth in Henrietta’s words.

  “Uh, sorry,” Jed interrupted, “I don’t mean to be overly negative. But Lucien can’t just start playing family with these people. They’ll figure it out. Or something will happen.” Jed looked at me. “Lucien, I get that the possibility of a family is appealing, but…” The rest of his words faded away.

  The possibility of a family. I had never thought of it like that. The possibility of a family. I let myself imagine having somewhere good to belong, having people who loved me. The possibility of a family. To have people who counted on me, people I could take care of. A sense of purpose. The possibility of a family.

  Then the ancient guilt hit.

  “You have to stop that!” Catherine glanced around. “He’s worrying he’s betraying Lena and Isabetta.”

  I winced as she said their names.

  “Lucien, you have punished yourself for more than a century. Enough is enough.”

  “Catherine’s right.” Henrietta squeezed my arm.

  Jed huffed. “Okay. I agree on this point. You’ve definitely taken the self-hatred thing too far. It’s time to let that go. And letting go doesn’t mean you’re forgetting or betraying them.”

  Just then, Griffin’s quiet voice interrupted. He hadn’t yet spoken a word. “Are you sure you can resist them?”

  I sighed. “Yes.” His face remained impassive. “I’m not saying the bloodlust isn’t there. But I know now I could never kill Sam. She is what is making me feel good. Being with her. Would taking her blood feel good? Undoubtedly. But then she would be gone. So, yes. I’m sure.”

  He nodded. “But, if her emotions feel that go
od to you, how can you be sure you’re in love with her and aren’t just…sedated by her? Isn’t it possible what you’re feeling is the relief of being freed from your grief?”

  “I know…I know because of how I feel right now. She’s not here. But I feel good. She’s not here. But I feel love. She’s not here. And she’s all I can think about.” I looked at him. Hard. “Griffin, I feel good.”

  Griffin rubbed his hands against his dark jeans. “There are a lot of reasons not to do this.”

  My shoulders dropped at his words. Of course, he was right. He wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.

  “But you deserve some love and happiness. Plus, who knows what this could end up being? Maybe, just maybe it could be something. That makes it worth exploring. Slowly and cautiously.”

  I sat up a little straighter, hoping for his approval even though I didn’t need it.

  “But promise you will leave her if you cannot resist her blood. You don’t want to lose her to that. And we don’t want to lose you.”

  “Not necessary. But I promise nonetheless.”

  Griffin extended his hand and gripped mine, helping me to my feet. Then his face broke into a big grin. “I’m happy you’re happy, Lucien. It’s about time.” He pulled me in to him, and we clapped one another on the back. Everyone else rose and started talking and laughing. The tension in the room melted away.

  Catherine came up behind me and gripped both of my shoulders. “So…did you dress in the dark or is wearing your shirt inside out the new fashion?”

  I met her laughing eyes and looked down. It was not only inside out, but backward.

  I glared at everyone. “I sat in front of you for hours looking like this. Somebody couldn’t have said something?”

  I’m not sure they even heard me over their loud guffaws. I pulled the green tee off, flipped it around, and slipped it back over my head. They all laughed harder. Rebecca had thin pale red tears running down her face. Dio, I was a mess, but I joined them. It felt too good not to.

  My family celebrated the rest of the day. Jed and I obsessed over a guitar-playing video game I had never played before but turned out to be good at. Jed said my violin playing gave me an unfair advantage. But then Rebecca beat him too—he kept his mouth shut after that. Jed’s mention of my playing reminded Rebecca of my earlier promise to break in my new violin, which I kept. It really was a striking instrument.