Crimson Bayou (Things that go Bump in the Bayou Book 1)

by Alizabeth Lynn

  Between the information she found on Ryan’s computer, and Aden’s condescending tone, Carissa was goaded beyond her limit. Her hand was halfway up to slap him before she could think it through. Laughing, Aden whipped his arm up to grasp her wrist before she could connect. He held her arm loosely as she stared at him, jaw slack with shock.

  “How the hell did you move so fast?” She closed her eyes for a moment. “No, E.T., scratch that—let’s just get to the meat of this. Are you an alien? Or a werewolf?”

  Aden stopped dead at her words, spinning on his heel, eyes wide and bright blue with agitation. “Wh— No! And how do you even know about werewolves?”

  Carissa ignored his question, slapping her hands on her hips. She tapped an impatient foot. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “No.”

  Carissa rolled her eyes. “Is that all you can say?”

  Aden’s mouth twitched. “No.”

  Carissa crossed her arms over her chest, mimicking his stance. “Fine. Then I’ll just follow you and find out for myself.”

  Aden dropped his arms. “I could make you go home,” he told her with a sigh.

  “I doubt it,” Carissa said with a smug smile.

  Aden sighed again, eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Fine. You can follow me, but don’t say anything. If I tell you to run, don’t ask questions.”

  His voice was terse enough to have Carissa reconsidering her choice. Aden looked deadly with his muscles bulging, the glint of the moon making his silhouette glow. Carissa gulped.

  “Well, maybe—” she began, but he cut her off with a grim smile.

  “No. You followed me for a reason. Now you’re stuck with your decision.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her after him before she could utter another word, and she was so shocked she didn’t attempt to stop him.

  “Where are we going?” she whispered when they’d walked for another ten minutes.

  “Shhh!” he hissed without slowing.

  It took only twenty minutes more for them to reach the swampy bank. The locals called it Crimson Bayou for the red tint of the water. Looking at it made Carissa shudder. The exact cause was unknown, but most suspected it came from a combination of the red Louisiana clay – like the Red River that stretched across the Northern part of the state – and the large number of alligators that populated the area.

  Aden came to an abrupt stop at the edge of the water, flinging out an arm to keep Carissa from walking any closer. A shiver climbed up her spine at the realization that he was shielding her from something she couldn’t yet see. There was enough moonlight that if Carissa moved around him, she knew she would be able to view whatever it was that stiffened his spine. Before he could stop her, Carissa quickly ducked under Aden’s arm and walked closer to the bank. What she saw brought her up short, and had her immediately stepping back, eyes wide and worried.

  “Are those—? Are they–?” She took a deep breath. “Are they dead?” she whispered.

  Aden didn’t answer her right away. Instead, he crouched down to get a better look at the women in the water. They were slumped, one on top of the other, against the bank, and although they could see alligators in the water, the reptiles seemed to be avoiding the bodies. Carissa didn’t know what that meant, but Aden leaned even closer, ignoring the stench of dead flesh. She followed his line of sight, a little less than grateful that the moonlight was brighter at the water’s edge. She spotted two tiny puncture wounds surrounded by the purplish hue of a hickey on the neck of the woman on top, and the arm of the woman below, but what she was seeing didn’t make sense.

  Could they be vampire bites? Carissa shook her head—that should be impossible, but recently she’d learned that nothing was. Her feet shuffled forward, morbid curiosity growing. Aden suddenly jumped to his feet and started dragging her back toward town. She struggled against his abnormal strength, wondering again what breed of fantastic monster he was—surely he wasn’t human, as quickly as he moved.

  “Aden! You’re hurting me! What are you doing?”

  He loosened his grip slightly, but kept moving. “Just trust me. I need to get you out of here. Now!”

  Fear radiated in his tone, and he sped up. Carissa ran along in his wake, trying desperately to keep her feet beneath her. Unfortunately, she knew her anxious companion wasn’t nearly as graceful as the woman he was pulling along behind him. As they rounded a shadowy curve, Aden tripped over a tree root, sending them both sprawling. He turned at the last moment, and Carissa landed on his chest, his arms cradling her so she didn’t hit the ground.

  The breath whooshed from her lungs. On unsteady arms, Carissa pushed herself up, lifting her head and looking into his eyes as she moved. In the moonlight, they seemed to swirl, brightening as they had that night outside her house. Captivated by his eyes, she had the overwhelming desire to kiss him again – right then – regardless of what spooked him. Possible vampire bites flitted through her mind, but the warning was lost to her senses as she felt Aden’s heart beating beneath her body. He stared up at her, barely breathing, his eyes glowing faintly, and she understood that to move away, or give in, to her desire would be her choice. Her tongue skimmed her bottom lip in unconscious invitation, and she slowly lowered her mouth to his.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Carissa purred deep in her throat. Aden raised his head from the ground, millimeters from meeting her halfway when suddenly his eyes darkened, alert and worried. He grabbed her around her waist, jumping to his feet effortlessly. Dizzy, her vision wavered as he shoved her behind him. The path before them was poorly lit, but she could hear footsteps and growling from the darkness. The closer the unknown figure came, the louder and more menacing it sounded. The deep timbre of the growl sent shivers of fear surging down her arms, making her hair stand on end. Carissa gulped.

  She tugged on Aden’s hand. “We need to get out of here,” she whispered urgently. The strange tingling sensation on her skin grew, almost like the feel of fingers brushing lightly. The figure stepped into the moonlight, leaving her with no more doubts about Ryan’s werewolves. The wolf was at least twice as large as it should have been. Its coat dark brown and shaggy, it bared its teeth, growling at them. Aden wrapped his other arm behind him and pulled Carissa closer, doing his best to shield her from view. She appreciated the gesture, but it did nothing to alleviate her fear. The wolf moved closer, and she would have fainted if Aden hadn’t been supporting her.

  “I know she’s there, bloodsucker,” the creature announced, and Carissa’s breath hitched.

  Ryan’s information didn’t say anything about werewolves being able to talk! It had a voice like water over gravel, gurgling and coarse. The chill that skittered up her spine was so intense her whole body shuddered, and the tingling intensified—like an electric wire in her veins. She peeked around Aden’s body, her curiosity overcoming her fear. The gilded eyes of the creature glinted in the moonlight, glowing with an inner fire similar to Aden’s—but with a more sinister undercurrent.

  Those glowing orbs locked on her, and suddenly she wobbled, her knees giving out. Carissa was increasingly grateful for Aden’s reflexes as he spun her in front of his body and sat down with her in his lap. Unfortunately, while that position kept her from hurting herself as she fell to the ground, it also put her face-to-snarling-face with an even greater danger. Pain speared her temples, her mind spinning as if she was on a never-ending merry-go-round. Carissa closed her eyes and lowered her head, unable to focus on the werewolf anymore. The wolf produced a barking chuckle, the twisted, mirthful sound grating like shards of broken glass on her eardrums. She looked up, her heart pounding in her ears.

  He stepped closer, positioning his snout inches from her left arm. “This will only hurt a moment,” he growled.

  Carissa didn’t move, too stunned to think clearly. Her other hand gripped Aden’s jeans with tense fingers, digging in for a better grip as she braced for whatever might happen next. The wolf opened his mouth wide, saliva drip
ping to the muddy ground in a putrid stream of wet stink. She watched in horrified fascination as his mouth moved in slow motion, inching toward her. Then, without warning, Aden shot to his feet with Carissa cradled in his arms. The wolf’s jaw shut with an audible snap, his eyes flashing.

  Arms in a vice-like grip around her waist, Aden ran full out, using more of that strange speed. Nauseated, Carissa closed her eyes again and held on. Caught between two men who shouldn’t exist, she was in the arms of the safest one. She looked up at Aden. His face might as well have been carved from stone, such was his concentration on saving her from the monster she could hear bounding behind them on the path. He glanced down at her, eyes flashing with warmth...and something deeper.

  Uh oh.

  With that one look, her heart broke free and fell at his feet. Oh God. She didn’t even know what he was, and she was completely in love with him.

  At that moment, Carissa realized two other things simultaneously: One, Aden’s super speed didn’t work so well when carrying another person, and two, clumsy was his middle name—and he wore it well. He stumbled, and they fell to the ground once again, one of Aden’s hands under her head to protect her skull from the sticks and stones on the ground, and the other at her waist to absorb the impact. In his haste to protect her, Aden was left with nothing to prevent his own injury.

  Carissa watched helplessly as Aden was propelled forward and to the side as they hit the ground. His head slammed into the base of a cypress tree, knocking him unconscious. Unfortunately, he didn’t roll far enough, and most of her body remained pinned beneath two hundred plus pounds of possibly alien muscle. Terror thrummed in her veins as she tried to move him with her free left arm, but her efforts were ineffective. She could hear the predator’s footsteps coming ever closer. She tried to scream, but the gurgling whimper that emerged was as futile as her attempt to dislodge her protector’s body. Unable to see with Aden on top of her, Carissa pounded her fist on his shoulder.

  “Get off me, you big, alien brute!” she snarled, terrified.

  Carissa punctuated each word with another thump of her hand, and he finally opened his eyes. Those gorgeous blue orbs were unfocused, and glowing so bright, she couldn’t look directly at Aden’s face. She turned her face away as he leaned his head down and nuzzled her neck, murmuring something she couldn’t quite hear. It sounded like, “just a taste,” but that couldn’t be right.

  “Aden!” she hissed. “You have to move. The werewolf is getting closer. We need to run!”

  She pushed at him as the footsteps grew louder, but he refused to move. His grip tightened around her body, robbing her of breath. There was sharp pain in her neck, followed by a steady static tremor that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. His lips moved against her skin, and as she felt Aden swallow, a vision of the women flashed into her mind, along with the words of the wolf. The implication was loud and clear. Bloodsucker. Aden, the man she loved, wasn’t an alien or a werewolf, no, but he was something just as scary, something Ryan’s texts labeled as mindless and evil.

  Aden was a vampire.

  Shock stiffened Carissa’s body as her mind tried to come to terms with this new realization. A werewolf was stalking them, and she was more than halfway in love with a vampire. Why can’t he be a normal, run-of-the-mill alien? She choked on a slightly hysterical sob, and tears gathered in her eyes as Aden’s grip finally loosened. He raised his head, but refused to meet her gaze. Instead, he stared out at the night over her right shoulder while his body writhed with barely restrained tremors. He groaned, the sound so full of pain, Carissa’s tears dried as quickly as they began. She remained silent, afraid to call attention to herself while Aden was in such a harrowing state.

  Lying there, pinned beneath the weight of him, Carissa was brought back to reality with a jolt. Her left arm was free, and there was no way for her to hide completely. The wolf stalked over to them, his advancing footsteps menacing in the otherwise silent woods. Unable to turn her head with Aden’s arm still beneath it, her only warning was a short growl before her world exploded in pain. The wolf sank his teeth deep into her wrist, holding tight while his pungent saliva pooled on her skin, dripping to the ground mixed with her blood.

  A burning pain seared her flesh, and the last thing Carissa heard before the darkness overcame her mind was the wolf growling, “You’ll thank me later.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Seconds later, Aden regained his feet – the act of retracting his fangs before he finished a feeding still sending tremors throughout his body. Even so, he gathered Carissa back into his arms. The wolf had already disappeared into the night, his last words hanging in the air—a fearsome prophecy that made Aden’s blood run cold. You’ll thank me later. The sentence drifted through his mind alongside his own self-destructive thoughts. Murderer. He scoffed under his breath as he looked down at the tear-stained cheeks of the woman he was falling for. Overwhelmed with concern, he berated himself all the way back to his house for his lack of control and failure to keep her safe. When they arrived, he laid her gently on his couch, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. He smiled sadly.

  He would make it up to her, even though he could never have her now.

  A quick trip to his bathroom gave Aden the chance to grab supplies to dress her wound. The bleeding had already stopped, but the skin was still red and raw. He cleaned it up and covered it with bandages. His heart fell as the truth landed on his soul with the weight of a thousand moons. With all the research he’d found when looking up her husband’s name, he knew that once the saliva entered the bloodstream that was it. A werewolf bite was incurable. And he was a vampire. And a murderer. He was also already half in love with her, but his own actions had made her unattainable, and there was nothing he could hope to do to change that.

  T rushed into his sanctuary, breath heaving. “It’s been done, sir.”

  The sorcerer looked up from the cloudy images in his crystal ball. T was the only one who could do such a thing without reprimand. “The pack master followed through?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And she’ll be prepped for breeding by the time of the ceremony. He’s already got a werewolf selected.”

  “Who?”

  “Ryker Blaine. He’s loyal to our cause.”

  “As well he should be. He’s been sleeping with Jasmine for eight years, now. Will that affect how he does his job?”

  “No, sir. I have spoken to him, as well, and he’ll do whatever we say as long as he eventually gets the pack.”

  “He does realize the pack master’s daughter will be sacrificed, as well as the child, doesn’t he?”

  T nodded. “Yes, sir, and he has pledged both to you.”

  “Then go back to your post, and we’ll let the remaining plans fall into place.”

  Carissa woke to the sun streaming brightly through the window with no clue where she was. She raised her left hand to push her hair from her face and caught sight of the bandages on her wrist. With that glimpse, the night before came speeding back with perfect clarity. She closed her eyes, collapsing against the couch cushions as her breath whooshed from her lungs and tears stung her eyes.

  Oh. Shit.

  Carissa’s hand flew up to her neck. The tiny pin pricks in her skin sent shivers through her body, dimming her vision for the briefest of moments. Barely settled in back home, and she managed to receive a bite from a werewolf and a vampire, all in one night.

  As she surveyed her surroundings, she realized she was in the vampire’s house.

  The room spun in a dizzy whirl of color and white noise as Carissa jumped to her feet. Aden rushed into the living room, but the sunlight gleaming across the floor brought him up short, and he came to a halt just outside the beam of light. Shocked, Carissa sucked in air to scream, but stopped at the look on Aden’s face. Sadness wrinkled his forehead, drooping his eyes at the corners. Were he a woman, she would have expected him to cry, but he didn’t, simply resting his pain-filled gaze
on hers without uttering a sound. Scared or not, she couldn’t bring herself to hurt him more by screaming. He looked so damn miserable, and his eyes held more hurt than she’d physically experienced the night before.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he whispered softly as he retreated into the hallway.

  Carefully, Carissa inched around the couch, closer to the front door. She’d hoped for space, but wasn’t sure what he’d put between them was enough. She loved him, but feared the truth.

  “You’re a vampire.” She’d meant to ask, but the words came out flat – unforgiving and blunt.

  Aden opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He swallowed and tried again, but still nothing. Finally, he nodded.

  Carissa sighed, her throat constricting, even as she forced her next words past her lips, “And the bite on my wrist is from a werewolf.”

  Again, he nodded.

  “Are you going to say anything at all?” Carissa asked, eyeing him with her narrowed eyes.

  An audible gulp sounded from across the room as Aden swallowed loudly. The sadness in his gaze deepened. He took another step backwards and whispered, “I’m sorry.” He shot her one last mournful look, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the dark hallway before Carissa could say a word.

  Mouth wide open, she stared at the place where Aden stood a few seconds before. She didn’t know how to describe what he just did. Running suddenly seemed like such a slow word. She shook her head. Try as she might, she couldn’t make sense of him. Vampires were supposedly bloodthirsty fiends, but Aden was something else. Nothing about the man seemed typical. He was a vampire, but he didn’t act like folklore described, or like Hollywood portrayed. He wasn’t full of sparkly teenaged angst, or murderous rage. No, he was more like the ones in the paranormal romance novels Carissa enjoyed reading—sexy beyond comprehension, intelligent, and charismatic. And clumsy. Endearingly clumsy. She couldn’t forget that. He was the perfect man—but he was a vampire.