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

by Opal Carew

  “Oh, we grabbed Ollie’s bike. It’s in the trunk of Griffin’s car,” Jed added.

  “Thanks. Listen, sorry to ask you to go back out. But they need food and clothes, and I could use a clean shirt.”

  Without hesitation, William handed me the button-down he had on over a T-shirt. I stripped off my bloodied thermal and ignored the collective groans and grimaces as the others reacted to the ragged hole in my gut. Tugging on the offered shirt with a nod to William, I rattled off a list of things I wanted for the girls and sent my brothers in the direction of a store not too far away.

  Back upstairs, Ollie had fallen asleep on Henrietta’s lap. I showed Henrietta to a room down the hall. She carried the child there to sleep. We rejoined the others in Samantha’s room.

  My phone startled us when it rang. I recognized the number. “Langston?”

  “Lucien, are you all right?”

  “Yes.” I glanced at the others, knowing they could hear both sides of the conversation.

  “Man, I thought you might be freaking out a little. The guard found Jacques’s body.”

  I lowered my head. There was no way they wouldn’t smell my scent on him.

  “What the hell happened?”

  I growled. “Jacques is what the hell happened. He fucking brutalized Samantha.”

  Langston hissed. “Shit, I’m sorry, Lucien. Hold on.” Over a long minute, muffled exchanges sounded in the background on his end. “Antoine doesn’t have time to talk right now, but he wants me to tell you he understands. He is furious at Jacques for going after the woman and creating this situation. We’ve all known Jacques’s rashness was going to catch up with him sooner or later.”

  “Antoine’s not calling for my head?” My gut tingled with everyone’s surprise.

  “Of course, he’s upset about Jacques, but you know he always liked you better. He always considered you like a son. His first reaction was to inquire about your and the humans’ fates. How are they, by the way?”

  “I don’t know yet. Samantha’s critical.”

  “I’m really sorry, Lucien. Hey, tell me where you are. I can bring you some supplies.”

  I frowned. “Uh, I think I’m okay for now. I’ll give you a call back if I think of anything.”

  “All right. Keep in touch. I’ll check back in with you soon. Antoine will be in touch after all this blows over. He has to focus on damage control right now.”

  “Okay. Thanks for your call, Langston.”

  “No problem.” The tension in the room ratcheted down at the news Samantha and I weren’t being hunted. Now I could put my full concentration into getting her better and creating a cover story.

  Jed and William returned a while later with bags of food, drinks, and clothes. I thought about waking Ollie up to give her something to eat—she hadn’t eaten since lunch time at school—but decided if her body was letting her sleep, than sleep was what she most needed.

  We settled in the living room to talk and left Henrietta upstairs in the arm chair to keep watch over Samantha in case she regained consciousness.

  “Okay,” I began, “when Samantha wakes up…” Catherine looked at me and spoke gently.

  “Maybe this is the time to tell her, Lucien.”

  Everyone remained quiet and watched as I sat thinking. “She’s going to be too fragile. I can’t ask her to deal with that on top of recovering from these injuries. She was already unwell before this.” I didn’t even know what’d happened at her doctor’s appointment. “Plus, then I’d have to tell her about the Laumets and all the rest of it. It’s too much at all once, even for someone as strong as Samantha.”

  Griffin sat forward and leaned his elbows on his knees, his measured tones full of the same thoughtfulness he always brought to his words. “Lucien, you have done an astounding job of walking in her world. But the reality is your world and her world exist together. They’re the same world. Jacques demonstrated that forcefully last night. If you’re going to be with her, she deserves to know the truth.”

  “What about Ollie?” Rebecca asked. “She knows about us.”

  “I don’t know what to think about Ollie.” I rubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger. “I charmed her before. She was almost able to resist it. And then she pulled herself out of it after we got here.”

  Henrietta appeared in the doorway to the living room. “She’s a special little girl, Lucien.”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’ll go up and sit with Samantha,” Catherine said as she rose from her chair. I tried to smile at her as she left the room.

  Henrietta sat down on the arm of the couch next to Griffin. “I think I agree with Lucien. His blood will heal her injuries, but she’s going to be weak for a while. I don’t think it will help her recovery to have the added stress of knowing about him, us.”

  “Henrietta’s opinion is enough for me.” I rose and paced behind the couch.

  Griffin disagreed, but nodded at the both of us. “You’re going to have to charm her then, Lucien. You need to make sure she won’t recall anything supernatural about last night’s events.” He paused. “Did Ollie see the attack?”

  “I don’t know what she saw. When I found her, she was hiding underneath a car farther up the street. There’s a line of bushes that should’ve blocked her view of Jacques’s biting Samantha and my…killing him.” Those words were hard enough to think, let alone say. I hadn’t been responsible for taking a sentient life in over a decade. “Oh.” I swallowed. They’re not going to like this. “Um, but she saw me pick up the car she was hiding under.”

  They gaped at me. “Lucien.” Griffin’s voice was full of disapproval.

  “I know, Griffin, but she was too scared to crawl out, and I couldn’t wait. I know.”

  “She chalked that up to your being an angel, too, though, right?” Henrietta looked thoughtful. “What’s the harm in letting her continue to think that? She’s clearly believed that about you for a while. It hasn’t caused any problems.”

  I sighed. “For some reason, it feels worse to let her think I’m an angel than to think about telling her the truth.”

  Soft footsteps padded down the stairs. I walked out of the room into the foyer. Ollie was nearly at the bottom of the staircase. “Hey. What are you doing up?” I lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I carried her into the living room.

  “I don’t know. I woke up. Then I heard voices.”

  I lowered us onto the couch and smoothed her hair back from her face. “Okay.”

  Everyone’s anxiety tightened in my gut. What had she heard?

  She lay quietly on my shoulder for a few minutes. The room relaxed. When she spoke, her voice was small but calm. “The truth about what?”

  I froze. Everyone looked at me. In that moment, I made the decision. I pushed her body back gently, so I could see her face. “You’re a smart kid, Ollie, do you know that?”

  She nodded, but her face remained serious. “You know how you think I’m an angel?” She nodded again.

  “Well, I’m not. I’m not an angel. But you are right, I am something different.”

  “What are you, then?” She met my eyes.

  “I’m afraid I’ll scare you if I tell you.”

  She fiddled with a loose thread on my shirt. “I can be brave.” She took a deep breath.

  I took her small hand in mine and squeezed. “I know that, Ollie. You are very brave.” I thought for a minute while she searched my face. “Do you remember when you asked me if the man that…hurt your mom was an angel of death?”

  “Yes.”

  “You said not all angels were good, there were good angels and bad angels, like him. Remember?”

  “Yes.”

  I tasted the faintest hint of her anxiety, but overall she was remarkably calm. It felt so wrong to burden her with this information. She shouldn’t have to know about things like this. I looked around. Griffin nodded at me.

  Ollie watched me intently. “Lucien, you’re good.” She surv
eyed the others and rested her eyes on Henrietta a beat longer than the rest. “And they’re good, too.” She looked back at me and whispered, “You don’t want to tell me.”

  “I’m afraid to,” I whispered back, meeting her eyes.

  She cupped her little hand around my cheek. “Can’t I just call you angels, even if you’re something different?”

  The love I felt for her in that moment—that came from myself and the others—was overwhelming. None of us had ever experienced that kind of unconditional acceptance in our long existences. I nodded and swallowed hard. “Yes, Ollie, you can. You are right about one part of it though. We are your guardians. Do you know that?”

  She nodded.

  “I’ll always protect you. Do you believe me?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Us, too,” Griffin added softly.

  She nodded. “Will you take me to see Mommy now, Lucien?”

  “Yeah, baby, come on.” I lifted her and carried her up the steps to Samantha’s dim room. She’d shifted positions a little. That small evidence of movement gave me the hope I so desperately needed.

  Catherine left as I sat with Ollie in the armchair. She lay her head down on my shoulder, but tilted it at an angle that allowed her to see her mother. Within fifteen minutes, she was sound asleep. I focused on the feeling of her heart beating against my chest and imagined for a moment it was big enough to beat for both of us.

  I closed my eyes, not intending to rest. Before long, my ears tuned in to the conversation taking place in the living room. The consensus held I’d done the right thing by not telling Ollie the truth. It had felt right in that moment, but I remained unsure. There really was no right way to tell someone you’re a monster. I shut the conversation back out.

  Maybe that was the problem. They wouldn’t have to know if I wasn’t around them anymore. The weight crushing my chest nearly suffocated me.

  The next instant, Catherine stood in front of me trying to understand the cause of the emotions she’d just sensed. Her flight from the living room had startled the others, who filed in behind her. Catherine knelt down in front of me and kept her voice low to avoid waking Ollie. “Lucien, I’m guessing by the sense of loss and grief you’re feeling you’re considering leaving them. Maybe that’s the right thing, maybe it isn’t. But I don’t think it’s your place to make that decision for Samantha without her having any input. Maybe one week into your relationship it would’ve been, or even one month. But you have been with her now for seven months. Their lives are entirely oriented around their relationship with you, am I right?”

  I nodded.

  “Samantha has no one else now, no family.” She hesitated, then added, “And you’re sleeping with her.”

  I winced. While I knew in a house full of creatures with heightened aural abilities our intimacy at Christmas wouldn’t have gone unnoticed, I still didn’t want it to be a topic of general conversation.

  “My point is you’ve allowed the relationship to progress beyond where you can just make a unilateral decision without her.”

  “But—”

  “No, listen to me. I know you’re worried she’ll be devastated by the truth and hate you for it, but I can guarantee you she’ll be devastated and hate you if you just up and leave her or make up some hollow lie about not loving her anymore.”

  I heaved a breath and hung my head back against the chair.

  “At some point, you’re going to have to trust her with the truth and let her make her own decision. You owe her that much.”

  “She’s right, Lucien,” Henrietta offered.

  Griffin had said it best. Our worlds had collided. Samantha had been walking in my world all along, every bit as much as I’d been walking in hers. Only I knew it, and she didn’t. My shoulders fell, and I sighed. Ollie stirred but settled back down.

  “Okay, you’re right,” I murmured.

  Catherine found my hand and squeezed some reassurance into me. I offered her a weak smile.

  One by one the others left the room. Henrietta walked to the bed and placed her hands on Samantha.

  “She’s getting stronger, Lucien. It won’t be too long now.” She sat on the foot of the bed and leaned her back against the low footboard.

  As I sat there with Ollie cradled in my lap, I could only hope and pray Henrietta was right.

  ***

  Henrietta and I sat in silence for a long while. The morning had dawned just enough that the blackness at the windows turned dark blue. As the room continued to brighten, I realized the movement I was seeing through the curtains was snow falling. A storm front had passed through overnight. The normal cold of Detroit’s winter had returned.

  Ollie mumbled in her sleep. I pushed out of the chair, then carried her back down to the bed where she’d slept earlier. I was thankful she stayed asleep when I laid her down. Miraculously strong though she was, her little body needed whatever rest it could find after the events of the last fourteen hours.

  I pulled the door shut and walked back down to Samantha’s room. Henrietta inhaled to speak when Samantha’s hand jerked. I flew to her side and grasped her hand in mine. Her eyelids fluttered, then fell closed again. Her cheek twitched.

  “Samantha?”

  A barely audible moan whispered from her chest. Her eyelids opened again, though her eyes remained unfocused, unseeing. Her mouth attempted to form a word, but it got caught in her throat. She turned her head to the side and with effort pushed her eyelids up again and struggled to make sense of what stood before her. She forced some air out of her mouth. “Thirsty.”

  Henrietta left the room and came back a moment later with a glass of water. The others gathered in the hallway, and I thanked them silently for giving her privacy. They always seemed to know the right thing to do.

  I took the glass from Henrietta and, with my free hand, gently lifted Samantha’s head. I tilted the glass against her lips and allowed a little of the cool water to pour in. She kept her eyes on me while she drank. Then she lay back down and shivered.

  Too low for Samantha to hear, Henrietta quickly explained she would likely experience fever-like symptoms for the next six to eight hours as her body burned off the remainder of my blood. I pulled an extra blanket up over her body. She attempted a smile.

  “Where am I?”

  “At one of my houses. Don’t try to talk, dolcezza. Just rest.” I kissed her forehead.

  She nodded and her eyes drifted shut, then flew open suddenly. “Ollie?”

  “She’s here. Sleeping. Don’t worry, now, rest.” Herhead fell to the side as she lost consciousness again. She’s okay. Oh, thank God. I closed my eyes as the realization swept over me.

  The others quietly celebrated with me in the hallway. Henrietta smiled and nodded, then left the room.

  I pulled the armchair close enough to the bed I could rest my weight in the chair but laid my head on the mattress near Samantha’s hip. I gripped her hand in mine and closed my eyes. Four hours later, her respiration changed, quickened. I opened my eyes. Samantha was looking down at me.

  “Hey,” I said as I lifted my head.

  “Hey,” she managed with a hoarse voice.

  I picked up the water glass and brought it to her lips again. She drank greedily, then pulled back. I returned the glass to the nightstand. She pushed herself up a little and grimaced.

  “What happened?”

  “What do you remember?”

  She frowned. “I took Ollie for a bike ride. She was too impatient to wait for you to get home, so I agreed we could go early. It was so nice outside. I let her go over to the playground, but the equipment was still too wet, so we left. And then…” Her heart rate accelerated. “I don’t know. I think I fell.”

  “You don’t remember anything else? Why did you fall?” Was it really going to be this easy?

  “I…I don’t know. One minute I was talking to Ollie, and the next…I was…my head hit the ground.” She worked her hand out from under the blankets and reached for her head.


  “Does it hurt?”

  “It feels numb and throbbing at the same time.”

  Ollie walked through the door. She looked at me, and I nodded. “Mommy!” She ran up to the bed and pushed her body tight against mine. “Are you feeling any better, Mommy?”

  “Yeah, baby, I’m okay. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I was scared for you though.”

  I tensed.

  “I’m sorry, Ollie. I’m sorry I scared you.” Samantha looked between us. “What happened? I just can’t seem to remember.”

  “We were going around the block and—”

  “Ollie—”

  “—you got wobbly and fell down. Your head hit the sidewalk hard.”

  “Shhh, it’s okay, baby. I’m so sorry.” Samantha worked her hand free of mine to stroke Ollie’s cheek.

  Ollie threaded one of her hands into mine and squeezed. If I lived a thousand years, I wouldn’t be worthy of this child.

  “Stupid,” Samantha croaked. “My doctor’s appointment…I’m anemic.” She rolled her eyes. “I actually found out yesterday. There was a blood drive at the hospital. I got turned down because my iron was too low. The doctor confirmed it with some blood tests this afternoon, which made me feel a little woozy. I should’ve taken the time to eat something when I got home, but I figured I wouldn’t be out that long with Ollie, and I wanted to go before it got much darker.”

  Her anger was a pang in my chest, a sensation made more uncomfortable by my guilt and betrayal at letting her blame herself.

  She looked up at me. “You found me?”

  “Yeah. You were just down the street across from my house.”

  She looked around, recognizing the house this time. “Why did you bring me here?”

  Damn. She’s sharp even when she’s out of it. “Um, there was a snowstorm last night.” True. “We lost power in our neighborhood.” Not so true.

  Her face relaxed, then she yawned. “You should rest some more.”

  “Yeah.” She turned onto her side and brought her knees up. “Just for a couple minutes,” she said as she closed her eyes.