Coffin Girls (Elegantly Undead: Book 1 of the Coffin Girls Witch Vampire Series) (26 page)

“Life is hard, Anais,” Conall stated solemnly, “we have to
take our pleasures as and when we get them. They’re the bits that will get us
through the challenges we have yet to face.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Anais acquiesced, “and the thought of
that helps ease the guilt.” She shrugged the guilt away, focused on the feel of
his fingers on her soles and changed the subject. “The fae hollow is a
wondrously strange but beautiful place and I’m glad for both the assistance and
hospitality. In fact, the girls and I were thinking of stealing some ideas for
future events – sans magick of course, but with special effects, lighting and a
bit of imagination we could recreate some of it. Do you think Sylvain would
mind?”

“Not at all,” replied Conall, “you’ll be putting on an
event, a show – recreating what others will think of as fantasy. As long as no
one finds out it’s based on reality, he’ll have no problem with it.”

“Dinner did seem surreal, though. Beautiful men and women,
abundance of delicious food – some that I can’t pronounce and frankly I don’t
think we have the ingredients to make it and such a beautiful setting, brimming
with magick.”

“Aye, that it is,” Conall loved the shine her eyes took on
as she recollected the night’s events. He’d become a bit jaded over the
centuries and it was refreshing to see things through her eyes. “And if you
like this so much, it gives me hope that you’ll be impressed by my home too.”

“Is that so, Your Royal Highness?” Anais teased.

“I was wondering when that’ll come up,” Conall commented.
“I’m not one for formality but it was necessary for Sylvain to make a fuss as
the fae can be a stuffy bunch.”

“But Sylvain’s not and neither are you,” observed Anais.
“That’s one of the things I like about you both.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Conall stated.

“So,” Anais prodded, “what’s your home like? Is it a
castle?”

“I’m not telling you,” Conall teased. “I want to see your
surprise and reaction without any coloring from me beforehand.” Her resultant
pout drew a laugh from him. “It’s nice to see you relax some and have fun. The
girls seemed to have fun too. They needed it after all they’ve been through
lately,” Conall commented. “And the wolves seemed to fit right in.”

“You forget,
cher
,” Anais teased, “you’re in New
Orleans, if there’s anything we know how to do, it’s how to fit in and have a
blast!”

“Good to see your wolf. No,” corrected Conall, “I’ve noticed
that he’s not your wolf anymore. Good to see Raulf relax too.”

Anais pondered that statement. “It’s good to see the bromance
between the two of you two,” she observed ignoring Conall’s scowl of
embarrassment. For the mercy he was showing her feet, he deserved a break from
her teasing. “Raulf did seem taken with a certain faery. And she with him. I’m
glad about that. He needs to get out there, have fun, date and then settle
down.”

Conall laughed, relief echoed in the sound, “I’m so glad
that you sound like a proud mamma right now and not a near ex-lover.”

Anais grinned back, “God, I do, don’t I? I was too old for
him! Huh, the irony! The cougar and the wolf,” she stated before bursting into
gales of laughter.

Conall joined in, “Don’t go there. I’m centuries older than
you and if you’re a cougar to Raulf I don’t want to think what I’m to you.”

Anais considered that, tipping her head to the side
thoughtfully, “You’re right, sugar daddy. Let’s not go there.”

“Thanks,” was Conall’s sardonic remark. Hell - that had made
him feel old. He continued with the conversation about the dinner, wanting her take
on the events, “Miss Suzette lightened up eventually and let herself be
pampered.”

“That was random,” Anais grinned, “and a poor attempt at
changing the subject but I’ll entertain it. After all,” she threw him a grin,
“one’s elders must be respected.”

“I hear a challenge in that, love,” Conall’s eyes glinted
mischievously. “Conall leaned in and delivered a smoldering kiss, leaving her
breathless.

Apparently he was teasing her too because he pulled away and
left it at that. “I loved Miss Suzette’s reaction to the jambalaya!” Anais
smiled. Two could play that game – and the anticipation would drive them nuts.
Conall’s hand was moving to her calves now and Anais felt the pain heels
inflicted on them ebb away under his expert hands. “She swore it wouldn’t taste
better than hers but when it did, she said that it was a good try. Huh! The
first time I’ve ever seen her put in her culinary place, the poor darling.”

“And you adore her,” Conall commented.

“Yes, I do. We all do. She’s the mamma we never had.” Anais
responded.

Conall stopped massaging her legs and sat down on the chair,
scooping her onto his lap. “What of your own mother?”

“Vampires don’t like to talk of their past. The time before
turning, even if it is just the moment before, is often one that’s painful. But
for you, for what you’re becoming to me, I’ll make a special concession.”

Conall didn’t respond. He was intrigued by what she said;
dying to know what he was becoming to her but knew that if he pursued that, she
might not share of her past. So, he let the silence urge her on.

“I was born in Rouen, France. My family was devoutly
religious as was common in those times. Except I wasn’t like the others. I was
different. I know now that it is the royal magick. Back then, I was seen as
devil spawn – literally. So, when the nuns looked for new coffin girls to take
to the New Orleans colony, my parents shipped me off. Well, after they unbound
my powers so the nuns wouldn’t find out and could maintain the belief that I
was virtuous and pious.”

Conall didn’t interrupt; he listened, holding her in his
arms. Perhaps it was the warmth of them seeping through their clothing that
comforted and made her feel safe enough to continue.

“I met my husband when I was brought to Papillion
Plantation. It had another name and another life within it then. It was the
time of slavery, racism and prosperity for the plantation owner – before the
wars of North versus South. Disease was rife in New Orleans – not just the
fever but the disease of arrogance. My husband suffered from that. And I’ve
come to realize that it was the root of his insanity.” At Conall’s lifted brow,
she explained, “To me, racism and slavery isn’t normal and neither is rape and
torture. He was guilty of all of that.”

“The night I was turned, I’d interrupted his raping of a
young slave girl. She hadn’t even reached puberty. Apparently it was a favorite
pastime of his and although I suspected something untoward, I never could put
my fingers on it until then. To the genteel society, he was the epitome of the
gentleman a pillar of the community. In fact, that’s how I met Yves. Yves was
one of his many business partners and my husband was even better at business
than cruelty.”

“That night, I’d been experiencing cramps – I was pregnant
you see and worried. I tried to find him. None of the servants would call him
and none would say where he was. Maybe it was my magick that intuitively led me
to him or maybe it was fate – whatever it was, I was grateful, am grateful
because I saved that girl’s life. I interrupted him just as the sadistic
bastard was strangling her. I found out later that it was a sex-game he liked
to play and the early deaths of so many female slaves on the plantation was not
due to sexual disease and promiscuity like he often ranted about but because of
him. The girl I saved is a direct ancestor of Miss Suzette’s. When I found
them, I was overcome with rage and lashed out at him. He lashed back and beat
me to near death. The girl had escaped and found the strength somehow to run
for help. Fortunately, I was good to the slaves and the free slaves and the men
drew a line that night. They came, saved him from finishing me off and finished
him off instead.”

Conall was filled with anger at what she’d been through,
wishing he could go back and kill the bastard all over again. “You lost the
baby?”

“Yes,” was her soft response, a lonely pink-stained tear
slid down her cheek.

Conall pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head and
used his thumb to gently wipe the tear away. “I’m sorry, Anais.”

“It’s in the past, Conall,” Anais gently lifted her hand to
his face, accepting his over hers as he gently took it and held it.

“But it still haunts you,” Conall stated.

“What haunts me is that I never knew my daughter and as a
vampire, I can’t have children.”

Again, Conall didn’t respond. He knew that he didn’t need to
and held her instead. After a while, he asked, “Where does your fear of snakes
come from?”

“Your deductive skills never cease to amaze me,” Anais
smiled through the pain of the memories. “The slaves didn’t know how to save my
life so they took me into the bayou to the nearest voodoo queen. The bayou is
filled with snakes and other creatures attracted by blood, and while the slaves
kept them away from me, I could still hear the noises, the hissing – feel their
predatory hunger.”

Conall kissed her brow in response and allowed her to finish
the tale. “That’s when Yves came into the picture. He was like a knight in
shining armor, helping me deal with the pain and get on my feet again. Later, I
found out that he’d secretly coveted turning me and was just waiting for the
opportunity, which he thought was inevitable. He knew what my husband had been
doing and did nothing to stop him. That’s when I saw Yves truly for what he was
for the first time and over time, I managed to irritate and disappoint him
subtly enough to not punish me but sufficiently so that he left me alone. I
believe that when I turned Sophie and V that it fueled his irritation. He’s a
conceited man and the fact that I wanted female companionship and saved the
lives of friends I had as a human did not sit well with him. There was nothing
he could do about it though so he eventually left my life. Over the last
century and a half, we’ve added to our family, always at the request of those
we turned, whom I now consider as my sisters, and we’ve grown our business.
We’ve survived and thankfully, have love and happiness.”

“What of another type of love? Have you ever been in love?”
Conall asked.

“I thought I loved my husband and then Yves but I realize
that it wasn’t real love. It was the responsibility a young girl feels to love
her husband and with Yves, it was the hope for love, if that makes any sense.”
Anais looked up at him, finding empathy in his eyes.

“Aye, it does,” responded Conall, “I thought I’d loved a
woman once too. I was engaged to one of the most beautiful witches in the race
and as I was crowned the reigning prince after my father’s death, it was time
to marry and ensure the line. But it turned out to be a classic case of a prince
falling for a beautiful gold-digger. It broke my heart but with the help of my
own sisters and mother, I got over it well enough. I’m not after ensuring the
line, Anais. I have sisters enough that can provide the throne with heirs.”

They sat in silence for a while, digesting each other’s
confessions. Conall broke the ice. “Now, after that, I think we needed a bit of
a pick-me-up, don’t you?”

Anais laughed when he stood up with her and threw her on the
bed. “I love how corny you are.”

“Corny and horny
cher
,” Conall mimicked a New Orleans
accent, wiggling his brows at her.

“Jeesh, and the corniness just went up a notch,” she
retorted. She laughed when he feigned hurt, “Yes, Conall, I love your horn and
horniness too.” Another burst of laughter, “God, I think it’s contagious.”

“Good. Now strip.” Conall’s eyes were glinted with predatory
purpose.

“Excuse me?” Anais responded, feigning shock. She could get
into this game.

“Not what you think,
cher
,” he mimicked her, his
Irish accent making the word sound nothing like it was supposed to. “I’m going
to give you a full body massage. I heard that women like those things and pay
good money for it.” He took his fill in gladly as she began to slowly undress
on the bed, had to clear his throat to speak. “You can pay me in kind later.”

“Deal,” said Anais. God he had good hands, she melted into
mush, luxuriating in the feel of them working the kinks out. This was the most
romantic experience she’d ever had. He was giving her a lot of those – best sex,
best romance and even more important, he was proving that he was there for her,
holding her up without censure when she needed it.

“I’m not doing a good job, if it’s that hard that you’re
thinking,” Conall’s voice came out gruff, husky with want.

“Oh, believe me,” Anais responded, “you’re doing a brilliant
job.”

“Good to hear.” Conall couldn’t help the self-satisfied
grin. “Now stop thinking, love, and just feel. Let me help you relax.”

There was that word again. Anais thought that she’d heard
him say it a few times before but she’d been preoccupied with the drama of the
moment and had put it down to auditory hallucinations. There was no way she’d
just imagined hearing him call her ‘love’ again. She felt discomfort intrude on
relaxation. She used what she had at her disposal to chase it away. Turning to
face him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, loving the feel of the strength
of it. Fuck, she thought, was she falling in love with him? Anais mentally
shook the thought away. She didn’t want to go there, so she opted for peaceful
ignorance instead.

“Conall,” Anais threw him a sultry look, “it’s kind of hard
to relax with your hands on me when I want more.” She let her hand trail down
the muscles clenching in his neck, his arm, his chest and gently rubbed the
hard evidence of his need. God, she thought, I am falling for him. But Conall
chased those introspective thoughts away with his mouth and hands as he leaned
in and gave her what she’d asked for.

Anais dove in, in the mood for sex, hot and fast, to chase
the emotions away. But, Conall pulled back, kept things slow, taking the pace
down every time she pushed, ripped and growled.