Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series) (6 page)

“Uhm, yes. I guess.” Anais felt trapped.

“You gonna spill or must we grill you?” Marie, though
concerned, was grinning. She may just as well have rubbed her hands in
anticipation.

“No need to look so happy, Marie,” Anais defensively
chirped.

“Can’t help it,” Marie patted her arm from across her at the
table, “good to have the shoe on the other foot. Not that I’m not worried about
you.” She hastily added as the others turned to glare at her. Chagrined, she
sobered. “So, spill. Sophie already filled us in to where the two of you got
to, what happened?”

“Lay off, Marie.” Rose came to her defence, or so Anais thought
until the emerald greens were leveled at her. “Anais, it’s not like we’re
torturing you for information. We just want to know what happened because we
care and we’re concerned. There’s nothing wrong with needing help, you
know.” 

“Well, then you know all there is to it. I don’t know what
set it off and I don’t know how to prevent it from happening again. I do know,
though, that I feel a lot better now. In fact except for the discomfort y’all
are causing me, I feel perfectly fine.”

At the looks from everyone else, Sophie confirmed Anais’s
declaration with a nod.

Always the practical one, V applied logic, “Then let’s start
at the beginning. What happened? When did it hit you, where you were and what
you were feeling?”

“Yes, General Veronique, ma’am.” Anais sarcastically
replied. V was taking her obsession with military intelligence to extremes. And
apparently, thinking it was okay to apply it to a conversation, or intentional
grilling amongst friends.

“And quit the military impersonations. They’re not going to
get you off,” V retorted.

“Pot, kettle, V” Anais stopped short at the look her
stalling was getting from Miss Suzette. She could and would chirp her ‘sisters’
as was her privilege as the eldest. She’d boss them around, love them, get
irritated by them and know that she’d get the same back. With Miss Suzette,
vampire or not, vengeance was swift and nasty and as she reigned in the
kitchen, Anais was not willing to tempt fate. There was nothing worse than
sunken soufflé or weirdly-spiced gumbo. Blaerg! She could still taste the
horrible concoction Miss Suzette had served them all the last and only time
she’d had the senselessness to give her attitude. It had resulted in lasting
memories of a unique foul taste in her mouth and the cold shoulder from the
rest of them for having had to share in what they deemed of as her punishment.
No, Miss Suzette didn’t get even, she got mad and mean.

Anais took a sip of the bourbon Sophie was handing out,
feeling the warmth slide down her throat, and giving her false courage. She
complied by relating the emotions and their corresponding events to her
attentive friends.  

“You had a panic attack.” Offered Veronique, the realist.

“Nope, sounds like you had an emotional premonition, a sign
of bad things coming,” offered Rose. “Y’all know, like when they say someone
walks over your grave?” Rose looked at the rest of them for confirmation.

“If there’d been any grave walking, I’d have known of it.”
Marie, the necromancer with her strong link to the dead, refuted.

“Sounds like someone gone and did you a bad one, boo. I
think it’s a curse. You upset anyone lately?” Miss Suzette’s offering sounded
as hocus pocus as Rose’s. Then again, they were witches, vampires and voodoo
priestess bundled together; you didn’t get more hocus pocus than that.

Sophie’s lips twitched, “Throw in a fairy, warlock and shape
shifter maybe?” At Anais’ look, she quickly retracted, “Sorry, you were
broadcasting that thought quite loudly.”

“Fine,” mumbled Anais, “what do you think happened, Sophie?
You were there so you know exactly what I was feeling.”

“I honestly don’t know,” as disappointing and unpalatable as
the truth could sometimes be, it was always best to serve it. “Maybe it is
something supernatural. I know that your powers were not really unbound when
you were turned like the rest of us but maybe, just maybe it’s emerging now. I
remember after I’d turned and come into my powers bit by bit, it was painful.
Sometimes physically but more often emotionally and even spiritually. It felt
like a ball made up of individual strings was being unwound and then piece by
piece, re-connected to the world.”

“I think I know where Sophie’s coming from,” Rose offered.
“Anais is the eldest vampire here, right?” Sophie ignored Anais’ disdainful
look and carried on seeing the nods from the others, “So, maybe age has
something to do with it. Maybe it’s linked to magick and maybe it was
exacerbated or triggered by how run down Anais has been lately.”

Anais was becoming increasing irritated, “Let’s say your
theory is correct, why now? What was the trigger?”

V sprung into the debate, “We don’t associate with the old
ones a lot and as a result, we don’t know what happens when we age. Maybe your
age, coupled with the enormous responsibility you’ve been carrying, is making
you more vulnerable to these emotions. It could be either supernatural or a
magickal version of a melt-down. Maybe it’s both.”

“
Exactement
! I couldn’t have said it better.” Sophie
smiled at Veronique.

“Okay, fine,” Anais threw her hands up in resignation, “but
I don’t get the whole meltdown thing. I might’ve been a bit more tired than
normal lately and a bit more irritable.” At their raised brows she chided,
“Don’t look so surprised, I’m not an emotional moron”

“No one is thinking of you as a moron.” Veronique, “we’re
taking the true Southern way of getting ‘round to the point the long way. What
we’re trying to say is that you have to consider taking things slowly for a
while. Give yourself a break.” 

“We’ve just had the VC ball and a wedding and now we’ve got
three witches coming here to play nice with us. Naturally, I’m a bit run down.
I don’t think it has anything to do with latent magick now coming to me,
though. That just doesn’t make sense.”

“True magick comes from the heart, from within. You’ll need
to open your heart to let it through,
cher
. I’m not criticizing you. I’m
just saying that you’ve had a lot of responsibility and in getting on with
that, you’ve pushed your emotions to the wayside.” Sophie’s comment hit target,
which, as an empath, she’d predicted.

It was getting way too uncomfortable for Anais. She was too
tired to think about all of this and she needed to conserve the little energy
she had for Conall and Co. “Well lucky for me, I’m a vampire; I don’t have a
heart to give.”

“You’re a witch too. Don’t forget.” Sophie countered.

“Apparently not.” Anais got up, irritable and no longer
inclined to allow the grilling to continue. “It’s been a long day and until the
ball is over, it will continue to be. So, if you’ll excuse me, my old bones
need their rest.” Anais stormed elegantly, dramatically, out of the
kitchen. 

“There’s some mad for you,” Marie observed. 

“She needs some of that mad too. Let her stew in the juices
of it. It might bring up what she’s got to work through.” Miss Suzette dropped
that pearl.

“What happens if she can’t work through it? She’s got that
heart of hers locked up with ball, chain, shackles and duct tape!” Rose was
concerned.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Miss Suzette got up with a
sigh. “Now off t’bed with y’all. Get the rest y’all need to be there for
her.” 

“Conall, welcome to Papillion Plantation.” Anais moved
towards her guest, extending a slender, white hand, adorned with a simple
emerald and gold antique ring. She’d purposefully dressed the part of the
plantation lady, wearing a vintage black satin, Jackie-O style cocktail dress
with killer, strappy Louboutin shoes. The emeralds at her ears flashing green
fire in sync with its matching ring – she’d stopped wearing her wedding ring
the day she’d been widowed and turned. Her rouge-noir lathered lips curved at
the impeccably groomed man.  Drat! She’d expected him to look good but not
this ravishing.

Being on the shorter side, she appreciated height and the
steel-gray pants he wore seemed specifically tailored to show case his
fabulously long legs. His shirt, black, made his blue eyes startling. His shoes
were Gucci. He was obviously a man of taste and means, the two qualities not
being mutually exclusive and one she appreciated. A dangerously alluring
combination of GQ meets professional hit man, danger with slightly disheveled
hair dressed impeccably. Yummy! She fought the urge to lick her lips and the
greater need to sink her fangs into him.

Conall was gob-smacked! His mouth went dry, swelling his
tongue, making it feel as heavy as lead, unwilling to move so that he couldn’t
respond to her welcome. He wanted his tongue to tangle with hers to slate the
aridness.

As soon as their hands connected, he felt a flash of magick
snake its way up his arms. More astonishingly, he could see the light move up
hers too. What the hell? That wasn’t supposed to happen! Vampires were magickal
creatures as well but their powers were limited to the more corporeal. What
he’d experienced had been actual magick. Or, had it? He looked at Anais.
Goddess! She was beautiful, sensuous, tempting - that must be it - his dick had
obviously decided to take the cognitive lead. 

“Are you unhappy to see me, Conall? Or don’t you like the
house?” Anais enquired, raising a haughty brow. “I must admit to surprise if it
is the house that has you frowning so. It usually receives gasps of
appreciation. So, that leads me to conclude that it is my company that
displeases you?”

Conall mentally dusted the cobwebs off, berating himself for
acting like a love-struck teenager and turned on his famous charm to maximum,
determined to loosen her guard. Anyone who could throw a party like last
night’s wasn’t the pretty airhead she was pretending to be. “No lass, it is
your beauty that astounds me – you (or your magick, he thought) made me lose
all thought for a moment. The house, although grand, pales in comparison.”

“Ah, you flatter me, Monsieur when there’s no need. My
family and I welcome you openly and invite you to make our home yours while you
stay here.”

“My thanks then to you and yours.” Conall regrettably let go
of her hand and the magick disappeared. He surveyed the room to hide another
frown from her. It was a large, formal and old-fashioned drawing room. It had
probably been the height of fashion when she did it oh, a hundred or so years
ago. “You did a wonderful job of this room. It’s warm and elegant at the same
time.” Thinking of warmth, her hands were not as cold as he expected a
vampire’s to be. Then again, he hadn’t touched many vampires as a rule.

“
Merci
, we’ve worked hard to maintain the plantation
and naturally are very proud of it. There are few of these homes left that are
privately owned and in good condition.”

“I’m delighted then to stay here for a while. I’m also
looking forward to learning of your ways and seeing this part of the States. It
is beautiful and exotic.”

Anais shrugged, indicating that they sit down, “It’s New
Orleans,” she pronounced it New Awlins, “beautiful and exotic is woven into its
DNA. Would you care for some refreshment?”

“I’d appreciate that as would my guards. I’m for sweating
bullets here, even at night. I’m afraid that Ireland is a tad bit cooler.”

“Of course, that’s to be expected but I’m sure you’ll
acclimatize shortly. If you’d like to call on your guards, I’ll take you to the
kitchen where the rest of our family is getting dinner ready and we’ll get you
that drink. We’re rather informal here.”

Conall followed Anais out of the calm of the drawing room,
across the huge foyer. It was a beautiful house, majestic and grand in the
antebellum way. He appreciated that the slight changes to accommodate modern
conveniences did not detract from its historical integrity. It’s exactly what
they strived for at home. In the kitchen, the smells of cooking and the chatter
of women, all simultaneously and passionately making a point, was a welcoming
sight. He smiled. Since he arrived in this strange and exotic land, something finally
reminded him of home.

“Hi,” Sophie slid forward gracefully, her light blue
summer’s dress emphasizing her etherealness. Soft, light blonde tendrils framed
her face, sweet in welcome. “You must be Conall. We didn’t get a chance to talk
last night but I do, of course, remember you. I’m Sophie.” She was charmed when
he took her hand and kissed it in the old-fashioned way, bowing slightly in the
act. Mmm… no wonder she was picking up an enormous spike in pheromones from
Anais. The man was ruggedly handsome, charmingly sophisticated.

“Let go, Sophie.”

Conall turned from Sophie towards the voice and saw a
vision. Was every woman in this place gorgeous? This one bore the mark of his
homeland. She was red hair and green eyes made in the way that Irish beauties
were stereotypically famous for.

Rose kept her distance, naturally suspicious. “I think the
entire vampire community knows who Conall is after last night.” She stepped in
front of him. Close enough to be friendly and far enough to scope him out. “Hi,
I’m Rose. Where y’at?”

Sophie rolled her eyes and caught Miss Suzette’s smirk.
Bayou Intimidation 101 – use localisms to confuse the tourists.

“I’m here of course.” Conall looked puzzled as the kitchen
turned into giggle central. “What? What did I say?”

“I’m just pulling your leg,” Rose dragged her gaze up slowly
from his toes until she met his eyes full on. “And a nice leg it is.”

Her gaze was so intense; it felt as though she had x-ray vision
and had assessed his toes through his shoes. The intent in her eyes was far
from seductive though. It complete contradiction to her actions, it screamed,
“Back Off! I’m watching you and by the way, I bite.” He projected a thought
into her mind, “Game on!” and had the satisfaction of seeing her flinch. He
vaguely heard Sophie explain that “where y’at” was a New Orleans term for “hi,
how are you?”