Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series) (25 page)

“I second that,” approved Conall. “There’s a possibility –
slight but still enough to make me want to be cautious – with your witch powers
coming to the fore and being honed, that you might be an ideal picking for
Akeldonna’s ‘premium brand products’.” Conall used his fingers to indicate the
air quotes, sarcasm etched all over the movement. 

“You have a point,” responded Anais. “We not only have witch
blood but vampire too. Think of Yves’ reaction to the cannibal blood,” she
looked at her sisters. “If I had to think like the psychopath that Akeldonna
is, I would imagine that she’d love to harvest our blood and would label it an
ultra-premium brand.”

The idea of it had bile collecting in the base of Conall’s
throat. He automatically came to her side, his arm grasping her around the
waist. Anais leaned into him, glad for the comfort.

“That’s not going to happen,” Conall vowed.

“
Merci
, I have no doubt in your protection, nor
yours,” Anais looked at the rest of the men, respecting their inclination
towards being heavy on the testosterone, “but I would feel better if you taught
us how to fight too!”

“We have weapons, space and the freedom of safety to
practice that in the hollow,” stated Sylvain.

“
Merci
, Sylvain. Offering us the use of your home is
something that the Vampires of Papillion will not forget.” Anais felt hopeful
by the resources they offered.

“Screw Vampires of Papillion!” Marie’s voice echoed off the
walls, startling them.

“What the hell are you on about now, Marie?” asked V.

“If we’re going to kick-ass, then we need a kick-ass name,”
Marie explained. “We’ve always joked that we were the ‘coffin girls’, well, we
are the frikkin’ coffin girls. I say, we take that name and kick some vampire
butt back to the frikkin’ earth – ashes to ashes and all that.”

“Charming,” came V’s sardonic response. “We’re not
superheroes.”

“Actually, I like it,” responded Anais. “The Papillion
Plantation to the humans, the Vampires of Papillion to the vampire community
and Coffin Girls to us.” Anais waved a hand over the group to include them all.
When the men scowled, she laughed, “Not you – you’re special on your own. But
my sisters and I – we’re the Coffin Girls – I like it. It’s cheeky and to echo
Marie, it kicks ass!”

Visibly shuddering, Miss Suzette voiced their support.
“Y’all can call yourselves whatever you like – I’m still stuck on the premium
brand ‘organic products’ Anais spoke of. So, let’s get packing and going.”

“No, not yet,” interjected Conall. “It is too risky at
night. We can do it in the morning and reinforce our wards tonight to keep us
safe.”

“It’s a risk either way,” stated Raulf. “Let me call my
pack. I can have thirty wolves here in no time. You won’t find better
protection in the bayou. The pack knows it like no other and the vampires won’t
be sending out an army, so that should be more than enough protection.”

Thanks to their supernatural speed, they were gathered in
the hallway and spilling out onto the gallery moments later, ready for the trek
to the hollow. Sylvain had taken one look at the bags and had sent them all
back. “You won’t need any of that at the hollow, ladies. We have everything you
need and what we don’t have, we’ll get. That includes your designer boots,
Anais.”

“You’re serious?” Anais drew the line at wardrobe. Well,
there were a couple of other things but wardrobe was the critical one right
now. When Sylvain nodded, she looked aghast at the other women, avoiding the
smirks the guys were sporting. If she saw what she felt coming from them, she’d
be tempted to wipe it off their faces, and not in a friendly manner. 

“He’s serious,” confirmed V, lips drawn tight so Anais
wouldn’t see them twitch.

“But what’s the problem?” Anais asked dumbfounded. It’s not
like y’all need to carry it. We’ll just put it in the back of the SUV and take
it along. I’m happy, you’re happy and the clothes are happy.”

The guys burst out laughing at that. Anais glared at Conall,
who looked darn good with his eyes twinkling and cheeks showing of dimples -
not that that made a flippin’ difference when it came him poking fun at her
clothes!

Conall saw the look but couldn’t stop laughing, clutching at
his stomach. He’d found one of her weaknesses and it was as ridiculous as it
was adorable.

“The clothes are happy?” he mumbled in between guffaws.

“Yes,” Anais bit out, pissed off. It was her eyes that
stopped the mirth; red and angry.

“Note to Conall,” piped Rose, “don’t get between Anais and
her clothing.”

“Noted,” said Conall, trying hard to come across as
contrite. He went over to his pissed off lover and kissed her gently. “Sorry,
I’m a guy and a moron, so I don’t get the clothes thing. But, love, we’re
walking to the portal, not driving and Sylvain really can get you anything you
want – he can replicate the whole wardrobe you have packed here.”

“Already done,” stated Sylvain, also sporting a grin. “I’ve
reproduced your suitcases and their contents and they’ll be waiting for you at
the hollow.”

“Least you can do after making me the butt of your joke,”
Anais announced regally and trounced down the steps. She spotted Raulf,
grinning broadly, his pack behind him in human form.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Raulf or I’ll feed you to
the gators,” Anais threatened.

Conall caught up with Raulf who was appreciating a pissed
off derriere. After nudging Raulf in the ribs and getting a quick apology, he
commented, “I can’t believe she’s that angry about the clothes. She’s gorgeous
when she’s angry but that’s one quirky obsession.”

“It’s not just the clothes - although she is fanatical - it
was a trick to get us to take the cars,” Raulf pointed in the direction of the
garages. “She never walks in the bayou. Never.” At Conall’s look of confusion,
he explained, “she’s scared of any wildlife – snakes, rats, gators, frogs –
anything little boys like. If there’s a spider in the house, she won’t go into
it, no matter how small. She likes the plantation for its beauty and quiet but
it is full of modern conveniences. You won’t find her anywhere outside of the
built up parts of it.” 

“Fascinating,” was the only reply Conall could scrimmage,
earning him a sly grin from Raulf.

“Yep, it will be fascinating to watch Anais walk off in a
het and stop just short of the ends of the gardens.” Raulf looked ahead at
Anais, her sisters closing in on her.

On cue, a shriek from Anais brought Conall to her side in
record time. “What’s wrong?” he asked, grabbing her.

“Snakes,” Anais replied, “rattle-snakes. I can hear them.”

Conall sent out his psychic feelers and found the reptiles
but they were yards away. He was about to tell her that when he felt Sophie
probe his mind. He opened the link.

“She’s not just acting like a girl,” Sophie stated. “There’s
a real reason why she’s so scared. When you get a chance, when you’re alone,
ask her how she was turned.”

Conall sent a mental thanks back and then turned a near
hysterical Anais into the fold of his arms, consoling her with kisses and
promises of protection. It earned him Sophie’s mental congratulations for
giving her friend what she needed and a slightly calmer Anais. After that he
stayed close to Anais, ignoring the pain when she gripped his hand, nearly
breaking it with her vampire strength as she started at the sound of a bald
eagle’s cry, piercing the night or the rustle of leaves as a scared mammal
scurried away from its predator.

 “I’m saying this because we no longer have to trek
through the swamp but also because this is one of the most fascinating sights
I’ve ever beheld,” Anais said in awe when they reached the portal, letting go
of Conall’s hand. She reached out and ran her fingers through the sparkling,
filmy substance. One moment they were walking through the swamp, carefully
treading over tree limbs and slippery patches where dark water met dark earth,
and the next, Sylvain, who led the group, stopped and chanted something in the
faerie language and the portal appeared. It was a fantastical beacon of light
amidst the darkness of the bayou.

“I know,” agreed Conall, lacing his hands through hers as it
swept through the portal entrance. The substance didn’t feel like anything –
just the same as the air around them but it looked like pure magick and pulled
at you like a drug to a junkie. “I’ve been here before and to others like these
but the beauty of the fae magick never ceases to amaze me. Now, love, if you
find this fascinating, you’ll find many more wonders behind it. Are you ready
to get out of the swamp?” He linked his hand with hers again and at her, “Hell,
yes,” response, pulled them through the portal.

“
Mon Dieu
!” was all Anais could say when she beheld
the fae hollow. “I can’t believe we’re still in Louisiana!” It was an alternate
reality – picturesque, colorful and serene. “It’s like Disneyland but real.
Different homes, different worlds all combined into one space yet working well
together.” There were homes made of wood with charming window-boxes boasting
colorful petunias, sun-yellow daffodils and smiling pansies. Modern
mansions surrounded by landscaped concrete sculptures and every other type of physical
environment, architecture and lifestyle you could imagine amalgamated
harmoniously despite their differences. Anais even spotted an
honest-to-goodness farm with ranch house and quintessential barn in the
distance. Between the personalized fae homes, were what she assumed patches of
the real fae environment, where oversized, multi-coloured flowers blooming,
adorned with glistening dew drops as they flashed and swayed in the
non-existent breeze on a bed of emerald green grass. The fauna was just as amazing.
White stags, bunnies and all things children loved and dreamed of roamed
freely. Anais saw butterflies in hues of jewel tones and pastels she’d never
seen. A singular unicorn, pure, white and glistening, silently regarded her.
Pixies - little gossamer-winged creatures - fluttered amongst the garden beds
collecting pollen and petals into their shoulder bags. She followed one pixie
as it flew over the sparkling blue streams that she swore ran to the tune of
music.

“
Mon Dieu
!” Anais exclaimed again. “This must be what
paradise looks like.”

Conall just grinned, appreciating her wonder, remembering
his own reaction when he’d first visited Sylvain in his natural surroundings.
“This is just the beginning. Let’s go join the others.”

Sophie approached Anais when they reached the others.
“Anais, look up!” she exclaimed excitedly.

“Is that…?” Anais pointed skywards, eloquence abandoning
her.

Conall smiled at both of them. “Yes, that would be a Griffin
and Draig Goch, having a bit of friendly sparring.”

“What’s Draig Goch?” asked Rose coming up to them.

“Red Dragon,” answered Conall, “the fae hollows and my home
are few places where you can expect to encounter such magickal creatures.
They’re not mystical. They’re just gun-shy – literally. Let’s gather around
Sylvain. He looks like he’s about to get us acquainted with the rest of the
hollow’s residents.”

Sylvain was speaking to a member of the fae, who’d
approached him, bowing and stating the appropriate platitudes.  The man
was tall and beautiful, like everything else in this surreal realm – and by the
gleam in the eyes of her fellow Coffin Girls, they’d noticed it too. Anais
caught Conall’s frown at their ogling and pressed her lips together to prevent
the self-satisfied smile from slipping out. Sylvain turned to them, indicating
the group of waiting fae.

“My honored guests,” Sylvain began loudly. The authority in
his voice carried over the whole of the hollow stopping the bustling fae as they
made their way through the main street of the hollow; others opened windows to
peak out or leaned over balconies. “As Sylvain, Prince of Fae, we welcome you
to our New Orleans hollow. My loyal subjects, behold our friends and allies on
the Goddess’s quest.” Sylvain swept a royal arm over them. “They are the
vampires of New Orleans, the bayou wolf pack and esteemed alpha and of course,
our old friends, His Royal Highness, Prince Conall of the witches and Niul. Let
us show them that the fae hospitality is unrivaled and treat them as befitting
for my guests.” Sylvain addressed them directly, nodding towards the fae guy
they’d been giving the twice over earlier, “This is my head butler, Ailfried.
He’ll arrange for you to be shown to your rooms. If there’s anything you
require, please ask him. I suggest you freshen up and then we’ll reconvene in
the dining hall for a late dinner. Until then, please excuse me, I must speak
to my warriors.”

They all made the right responses to a Sylvain that they
were seeing in a completely new light and followed the fae to their rooms.

--------

“So what do you think of your first fae dinner?” Conall
asked, pushing Anais gently down into a chair in their room.

“Unbelievable,” replied Anais, lying back into the chair as
he took her leg, one by one, gently running his hands down their length before
removing her sandals. Rouge noir - red black – painted toes stood out against
the white of his hands. 

“And so is that - unbelievable,” Anais commented, moaning in
pleasure as he massaged her feet. “Who would’ve thought that even
fae-replicated designer shoes still made your feet hurt. You’d think they’d
magick that away for you.”

“There’s always plenty of magick here but even that has its
limitations,” stated Conall.

“You’re telling me,” Anais grumbled. “But it was an amazing
experience. I kinda feel guilty that we’re here in this beautiful room that
looks like it belongs in a five star hotel and that we had this culinary feast
while those girls are still trapped and being tortured.”