Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series) (12 page)

The popular reference to Harry Potter had Conall groaning in
embarrassment, “I deserved that.” He smiled at her, making her stomach flip and
offered his arm courteously, “Shall we then go find that bar and drink to blood
and brooms?”

The warm, sultry evening wrapped around her, like a soft
baby’s blanket caressing her skin. Snuggling into its comfort she made her way
down the alley. She came here, seeking perspective, rest before she faced the
heat again. The live oaks were so old, they made her feel young and humbled.
They’d seen slavery, war, hurricanes and pirates yet still stood strong with
purpose and well-deserved pride.

She willed herself to calm as she sat on the bench where the
trees opened up to the Mississippi. The wild nature beneath the surface of
still river, occasionally illustrated through a sharp splash, a guttural wail,
was the perfect mirror of her emotions.  The past few days had been
frustrating as they’d continue to rely on Miss Suzette and the human staff to
help out so that they could maintain their nocturnal pretence. The nights had
taken on a hectic pace – dinner with their guests and Raulf followed by
escorting them to the various vampire homes, businesses and hot spots. All free
moments were given to ensuring that their business continued to run. 

Raulf – bless him – was of enormous assistance in managing
their business during the day. In between running his pack, his own successful
businesses and guarding them at night, Raulf assisted in resolving issues that
had to be attended to during the day. He had become their knight in shining
armor. You’d expect him to look ragged but he seemed to set tingles off in the
same alarming way he had before and by the smirks he sent her way, he knew it!
The guilt she felt at rejecting him was choking her. Fuck – why did he have to
be such a gentleman? Well, she shrugged to herself, he was a complete asshole
to Conall. It was extremely noticeable when he provided true Southern
hospitality to the other two witches yet all Conall got were glares.

An approaching heartbeat and the intoxicating smell of blood
wafted towards her. Great – the hot witch was on his way. Anticipation for the
oncoming man scuffled with chagrin at her interrupted solitude; anticipation
triumphed.  “I thought you’d gone to bed?” she enquired as he neared,
hoping he’d skedaddle and take his tempting assets away from her.

“Couldn’t sleep. A bit hot this evening.” Conall replied,
dropping onto the bench.

Anais could smell a lie as well just as she could blood. She
didn’t doubt that he’d sought her out. “No hotter than any other since you’ve
been here.”

His lips curved – caught. “It certainly feels hot over here
sitting next to you.”

God, that was cheesy. Cheesy but cute, she gave a husky
chuckle, wondering why it turned her insides to mush. “Nothing a jump in the
river wouldn’t cure,” she retorted. 

“This river might like me, I don’t think I’d like it much.”
Conall laughed a low, lyrical sound.

“A big man like you scared of some teeny gators?”

This was a different side to Anais – playful, teasing.
Enjoying her chiding, he let the blow to his ego slide and allowed the banter
to continue. “There are more inventive and pleasurable ways of putting out
heat.” He had the satisfaction of seeing her surprise and intrigue; she hadn’t
expected him to call her bluff.

Conall picked up the scent of her desire, scooted over so
that their thighs were flush, his arm pulling her closer. Gently taking her
chin, he moved her face inches away from his. He caught a flash of red in her
eyes before she willed it back to chocolate.

“Don’t,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers,
“when that happens, I feel sane.” At the unspoken question he leaned in closer,
a breath away; “It lets me know that I’m not the only one wanting.” Entranced,
he watched red flood her irises. “Red’s becoming my favorite color.”

She recognized that she was hooked and gave in as his lips
descended onto hers. Tentative, soft kisses gave way to the frustrated
scorchers as they stroked and smoldered. She was completely captured in the
moment, instinctively pulling him closer, riding the fire as it consumed them.
His shirt sleeve was ripped by vampire hands; she didn’t hear the material rip,
their moans didn’t register; she only felt heat flooding her, sinking her
inhibitions.

Her fangs descended with the overwhelming need to taste his
blood, nicking his tongue. Blood, magick and lust filled her mouth and she
moaned, wanting more, needed to take him as he took her. She pushed him back
onto the bench, her desire intensifying at the disheveled look of passion as he
lay sprawled in front of her. Her skirt ripped as she climbed and clawed,
straddled him and blazed when her core met his, searing through silk and
cotton.

Moving, she set a rhythm taunting him as soft breast brushed
hard muscle, letting the center of their desires meet, only to move away again.
Spurred on by moans and grinds, their hands found each other under their
shirts, sending them spiraling towards the sweetly dangerous edge of madness.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Conall ground out, teeth
clenched as he struggled against the need to plunge into her; foreplay be
damned. “Goddess, I haven’t wanted a woman before the way I want you. I’ve
lived for centuries and yet you make me feel like a randy teenager, desperate
to lose his virginity.”

Anais’ lips curved in satisfaction, “It’s refreshing to find
that we can still be surprised after centuries.” Smiling mouths met again and
consumed with fervor. 

Abruptly, Anais was wrenched away from Conall and found
herself fly before she hit ground, inches from the dark waters. A growl filled
the air as Raulf, alpha wolf epitomized, leapt towards Conall, ready to shred
his throat. 

“Raulf, no!” Anais shouted. Panicked, she rushed towards
them. Conall may be powerful and the crème de le crème of magick but he was not
physically matched to an angry werewolf.

Before she could put herself between them, a blast of magick
shot from Conall, suspending Raulf in mid-air. Just as a surprised Anais was
going to ask Conall to put him down gently, Raulf emitted a blue hue and howled
breaking Conall’s hold on him. Before she could respond, she witness wolf and
witch battle over a vampire. Even her enhanced eyesight could not detect more
than a flurry of fur, bolts of magick.

Cursing, Anais looked at the crowd that had gathered.
Everyone had come running to investigate the activity. “Don’t just stand there
– do something. Use your magick,” she shouted at the other witches.

“I’m on it,” Sylvain responded. “The best way to solve this
is the old-fashioned way.” He conjured huge buckets of water and with a
resounding splat, the wolf and witch were left to glare at each other, Anais
having swiftly stepped between them.

“You,” she pointed to a wet, naked Raulf, “and you” she turned
to Conall wiping the smirk off his dripping face, “are fucking morons.”

Anais was yelling, ignorant of the gaping stares from the
crowd and sheepish looks from her suitors. She was furious! “I am not a toy
that two little boys fight over on the playground. Grow the fuck up.” She
turned and ran into the house, seeking solitude yet again.

--------

“You can’t pretend that it isn’t there, boo,” Miss Suzette
interrupted her thoughts. She looked up, pushing away the irritation at being
interrupted yet again. Miss Suzette came armed with comfort and love.

“Huh?” Anais lifted her head from where she lay them on her
arms and took the steaming mug of milk laced with honey. “Thank you,” she said
gratefully, taking a sip and detecting some brandy in it.

Miss Suzette entered the library, which doubled as Anais’
office, her feet thudding against the wooden floors. Plonking herself into the
large leather sofa, she beckoned Anais to sit next to her.

“Raulf went home,” Anais offered.

“I know. He came to say his goodbyes. He’ll be back though –
just needs some time to cool off.”

“I asked him to go home,” Anais explained. “He’ll probably
be back tomorrow – he basically lives here – but he’s not sleeping over
anymore.”

“Some space will do y’all good.”

Anais nodded, “I know why he reacted that way so I accepted
his apology but there’s just too much going on at the moment to worry about him
having a witch take-out.” Anais searched Miss Suzette’s face and didn’t find
any censure. “He’s still a moron, though. Understanding why doesn’t change
that.”

“That he is. People in love usually are.”

Anais contemplated that observation. “Do you really think
he’s in love with me?”

“He thinks he is,” was Miss Suzette’s cryptic answer.

Miss Suzette noticed Anais’ guilt. “No, boo, it’s nothing
you did to him. You’re doing it to each other. I’ve been watching the natural
lust grow between you two for some time now – it was only a question of when
something would happen. I reckon y’all would be doin’ it to each other. And now
there’s the complication added by your witch.”

“He’s not my witch,” Anais responded.

“No, not yet. But you wouldn’t mind if he was.”

“I’m such a slut – at least mentally or hormonally.” Anais
looked with such agony at Miss Suzette that she woman drew her close and patted
her shoulder soothingly; much like a mother would an anxious child.

“You’re not a slut. You’re a woman and any woman, hot or
cold-blooded, would feel torn when two such fine men were wantin’ her.”

“You think I should make a choice?” Anais questioned.

“Yes, I do. But I’m not talking about Raulf or Conall. You
choose either or neither.” Miss Suzette looked down at the woman, the vampire,
she’d come to think of as hers. “You need to choose between existing and
living.”

At the silence Miss Suzette carried on, “Do you remember
Nicholas?”

“The architect?” Anais enquired, thinking back to the man
that helped them refurbish the old slave quarters and the doctor’s house that
was where Miss Suzette lived. Anais wondered where this was going?

Miss Suzette nodded, “I kept it from all of you; it didn’t
serve no purpose for y’all to know.” Miss Suzette’s expression was nostalgic,
bitter-sweet. “He and I spent a lot of time together when he worked here. We
fell in love. But, I had to choose – go with him, get married, have babies and
swap the life I lived for a different one or stay here and live the life I was
born to. I was lucky – both were good options.”

“Now don’t get me wrong. I am happy in the life I have and
was then too. Maybe I would’ve been happy with him – I don’t know that.” Miss
Suzette shrugged, not illustrating any regrets and Anais relaxed again. “I
loved him. Lord did I love him – still love the man he was. But, I loved y’all
more. I loved – love,” she corrected, “this land, my family and I needed to,
for me, to be able to practice my religion.”

Anais understood, “It would have been difficult for you to
practice voodoo and Catholicism together elsewhere the way you do here.”

“That was one of the factors, yes.” Miss Suzette nodded. “Maybe,
the love just wasn’t enough.” She shook her head as though to dust away the
cobwebs of the past and looked down at Anais whose head now lay on her lap as
she stroked her hair reassuringly. Miss Suzette secretly thought of Anais as
her ‘vampireling’.

“You’re at such a crossroads now, boo,” Miss Suzette’s voice
was wise and gentle. “I’m happy with the decision that I made and making it
allowed me to live the way I wanted to. So, I live, Anais but you exist.”

“But I do have a good life – at least until recently,” Anais
countered.

Shaking her head, Miss Suzette drove on, “No, you exist now
and you’ve always done so. Your sisters were right when they told you that you
haven’t stopped in centuries. I haven’t known you that long and yet, in the
decades I’ve been with you, I agree with them. You don’t experience the joy,
the agony of life. You just get down and get through it.”

Anais lay still, not liking what she was hearing but
recognizing the truth in it. “How does that relate to Raulf and Conall though?”

“Like my Nicholas, they’re the prod. They’re presentin’ you
with the opportunity to make that choice. The choice to live or exist – to take
risks with your heart, to experience things that go deep.”

“When he left, did it hurt?” Anais’ voice was small and
vulnerable.

“Like hell. But I made the choice and I don’t regret it. I
don’t regret him either. It’s all part of the colors of my life. Getting’ your
heart broken and breaking a few is part of livin’. You didn’t care enough about
the men you were with before and you didn’t have the chance to build the bonds
you have now with family, so the emotional risk wasn’t as great as it is to you
now.”

“I get what you’re saying, Miss Suzette,” Anais responded
wearily, “but I’m not yet sure what to do about it.”

“Being open…” Miss Suzette began and was halted as Anais
suddenly got up, alert. 

“Yves is coming. He’s entered the gates.” Anais quickly sent
a mental siren to her sisters then got them all prepared to welcome him just as
Claude’s knuckles rapped on the door.

“Yves,” Anais went forward to greet him, not a sign of any
of the earlier drama showing. “What a welcome surprise. Please come in.”

Anais led them all into the formal drawing room and
requested warmed blood for them all from Miss Suzette who smoothly slid into
the role of subservient help.

Yves sat down, dominating the atmosphere. The last time he’d
been in this room, he’d been master of the house. Fortunately, that was over a
century ago; as irritating as he was, they preferred to deal with his lackey.

“I see that you’ve redecorated,” Yves waved an elegant hand
at the room, the Vampire Council ring of membership, an exquisite creation of
warm gold, black agate and ice-blue diamonds glinted from his finger – as
though he were betrothed to the race.