Bloodlust, p.1
BLOODLUST, page 1
Blood Lust
Phoenix Daniels
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by Phoenix Daniels
BloodLust is presented by Phoenix Daniels
© 2020 by Phoenix Daniels
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording, or photocopying without the permission of the publisher or author. The exception would be in the case of brief quotations embodied in the critical articles or reviews and pages where permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author. Although every precaution had been taken to verify the accuracy of the information contained herein, the author and publisher assume no responsibility for any errors or omissions. No liability is assed for damages that may result from the use of information contained within. This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. This is an explicit and erotic publication intended for the enjoyment of adult readers only.
Daniels, Phoenix. BloodLust (Creole Nights) Kindle Edition.
This book is dedicated to the diehard readers with the patience of Job, who waited for me to finish this project. Thank you. 😊
Chapter One
MARGO
Margo bent the circular driveway and parked in front of her family’s historic Louisiana plantation. She hopped out, knowing that parking her car out front was going to piss her mother off. But it was 8 AM, and she’d been out all night. Taking the time to put her car into the multi-car garage would make it that much longer for her to fall into bed. So, she turned off the engine and left the key in the ignition. If anyone had a problem with where she parked, they could move it themselves.
She climbed out of her Beamer and hurried up the front steps. As soon as she crossed the threshold, her mother’s voice rang out.
“Marguerite Roux, you go move that car right now!”
Margo looked around, but her mother was nowhere around. For a moment, she wondered if her empath mother had inherited her gran’s ability to communicate telepathically. However, since Enola rose to the head of their family, it was unlikely.
She looked toward the parlor to find her mother standing in the entryway with her arms folded, donning a very familiar look of disapproval.
“I’m going right back out,” Margo lied. She rushed to the staircase, knowing that as soon as she got to her bed, she would pass out.
“Yes, we are. So, get cleaned up.”
We?
Margo froze and turned to look at her mother. She gauged her attire and noted that she was head to toe business chic in a slimming, cream jumpsuit that flattered her curves, and baby pink high-heels.
“You look pretty.”
“Save it,” Ruby muttered in a clipped tone. “You need to get ready. We’re outta here in thirty minutes.”
Margo blew out a harsh breath, wishing she’d snuck in through the back door.
“What am I getting ready for, Ma?” Margo grumbled. “Where are we going?”
“The Council of Legends are meeting in The Quarter.”
“Nope. Not gonna happen.”
Margo jogged up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. Exhausted, the last thing she wanted to do was sit in a meeting full of freaks. Ever since her gran died and Enola married Gideon, their lives seemed to be all about Voodoo, wolves, and other magical creatures. Margo missed the time when no one, not even she, was aware that she had magical abilities. She was content with being underestimated and in the background.
It had been more than a year since their home was attacked by witches and vampires, and her beloved grand-mere Marie died. Margo longed for normalcy. She needed a breather. Therefore, a meeting of the magical beings was not about to happen.
“Marguerite!” Ruby shouted at her back as she reached the landing.
Ignoring her mother, Margo hooked a left and hurried down the hall. No longer a child, she wasn’t about to be told what to do, or where to be. Unfortunately, when she entered her room, there was another obstacle between her and her soft, warm bed. Enola sat in the middle of her canopy bed with her legs crossed.
“Rough night?”
“Ugh!” Margo grunted out of frustration. “Get out, Nola. I’m sleepy.”
“No can do, Cousin. I need you.”
Margo huffed and walked into her private bath. She looked in the mirror and cringed. Her appearance was frightful. Her amber eyes were bloodshot red and the golden African locs she sported had fallen from the bun she’d placed them in the night before. She swiped at the dark eyeliner that ran down her cheeks, but it wouldn’t budge.
“Raccoon eyes for real,” she mumbled to the ugly version of herself in the mirror.
“Margo,” Enola called out from the bedroom.
“What? You need me for what? What could I possibly contribute to this freak show?”
Enola, all fresh-faced and pretty, suddenly appeared behind her in the mirror. Her curly, auburn mane framed her freshly beat face. She wore a yellow wrap dress that complemented her copper complexion. Margo rolled her eyes at her energetic cousin. She was sleeping well. Must’ve been that good wolf dick.
“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re one of the most powerful freaks in this circus. Margo, you have the power to command anyone with balls. I’m new to all this shit, and that gift of yours could really come in handy. Without Gran, we’re vulnerable. This family needs you. I need you.”
Margo opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved her electric toothbrush. She rinsed it, slapped some toothpaste on it, and shoved it in her mouth. Without acknowledging her cousin, she pushed the power button, allowing the bristles to scrub the Vodka residue from her teeth and gums.
“MARGO!”
“WHAT?”
“Twenty minutes?”
“Fine! Get out of my room,” Margo relented.
Enola was right. With the loss of their gran, they were vulnerable to attack. There were still witches and vampires that considered them prey. Most assumed that their power died with her. No one, except for the wolf shifters, was aware of the powerful heir that rose in her wake. The vampires and warlocks involved in the surprise attack on their plantation perished in the flames of a phoenix.
As if not wanting to push it, Enola disappeared from view. When Margo heard the click of her bedroom door closing, she peeled the day-old clothes from her body and turned on the shower. After a quick wash off, she left the bathroom and entered her walk-in, in search of something easy and wrinkle-free. A black, fitted romper is what she decided on. She paired it with white stilettos with black polka dots. Without delicacy, she yanked it from the rack, grabbed the shoes from the shelf, and reentered her bedroom. She tossed the shoes on the floor and the outfit on the bed, peering at the ensemble through the blurry vision of sleepy eyes. The last time she wore the romper, it revealed a bit of cleavage. It wasn’t as business-like as her mother’s outfit, or as modest as Enola’s, but it would have to do. And if it wasn’t good enough for her family, they were more than welcome to leave her at home.
Thirty minutes later, Margo was sitting next to her mother in the back of a Cadillac Escalade driven by Gideon. Enola sat in the passenger seat next to him. They all seemed a bit annoyed by her tardiness, but she was unconcerned. Hell, they knew that she’d been out all night. Yeah, they were magical, but nobody said a chant or snapped a finger to help her get dressed faster.
The ride to The Quarter was silent. It wasn’t long until they were pulling up in front of La Maison d ‘Auriette, the historical French Quarter hotel owned by Gideon and Gabriel, his twin brother. Gabriel waited out front, standing next to Alvin Boone, a Bayou born, British raised, high-ranking member of the Louisiana Pack. His appearance was arresting—a giant of a man with vivid green eyes that were a striking contrast to his almost coal complexion. And as if being ridiculously attractive wasn’t enough, he had the nerve to have a panty-dropping English accent.
Margo could’ve stared at the sexy Brit all day, but the hot Louisiana sun burned her tired eyes. She fished her sunglasses out of her purse and shoved them onto her face. Gideon climbed out of the front seat as Gabriel opened the passenger doors.
“Good morning, ladies,” he greeted.
“Morning Grandpa,” Margo grumbled as she slid out of the back seat.
Gabriel chuckled softly while helping her mom step down from the SUV. Once the women were out of the vehicle, the men huddled up near the entrance. Margo joined Enola on the sidewalk just as a petite blonde ran up.
“Enola Roux!” the woman screeched, pulling her cousin in for a hug.
Judging by Enola’s expression, s he had no clue who the woman was. She gave her a cheap pat on the back before stepping out of her embrace. With a wrinkled brow, she looked past the stranger to Margo, but Margo simply shrugged. She had never seen the woman a day in her life. As if noticing Enola’s confusion, the blonde frowned and tilted her head.
“Enola, it’s me, Karen... Karen Harper. We worked together in Chicago.”
Enola took a minute to study her face, but it was clear that she still didn’t recognize her.
“I’m sorry, um... Karen?”
“Harper. Karen Harper,” she offered. “You don’t remember me?”
She seemed disappointed.
“I sorry, Karen. It’s been a while since I –”
“It’s okay,” the woman interrupted. “I guess I’m just easily forgettable.”
Margo narrowed her eyes at the woman. Was she really running that guilt trip on her cousin?
“Now, I’m sure that’s not true,” Enola refuted sympathetically.
“It’s cool. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
Enola frowned as if the blanket of guilt actually fazed her. But Margo was unmoved. To her, she appeared fake and needy. Who acts like that because someone doesn’t remember them? A normal person would shrug it off and keep it moving.
Margo moved closer, fully prepared to put the needy blonde in check, but her mother beat her to it. She pushed past Margo and shoved the woman. The stranger stumbled backward but didn’t fall. Her mom turned to Enola.
“This woman means you no good,” she warned. Then she returned her attention to the mysterious woman. “Bitch, you can’t fool me. I can see right into your black heart,” she sneered. “Who are you?”
Everyone present was staring at the woman, waiting for her to respond. The blonde turned anxiously and took a few steps back.
“I- I’m sorry to have bothered you. I-I,” she stammered before running away.
They stared at the woman’s back until she disappeared into a crowd of tourists.
“What the hell was that?” Margo blurted.
Unfortunately, she didn’t get an answer because “You’re late,” came from a voice behind them.
Margo cringed and slowly turned toward the raspy female voice. She grumbled under her breath at the sight of Madame Belfour, one of the oldest priestesses in Louisiana. The older woman was very skilled at casting and removing spells, and very well-respected in their community. She was also a pain in the ass busybody.
“You have just barely taken the position as a sovereign. This reflects badly upon us all.”
Madame Belfour’s comments made Enola sigh. “Yes, ma’am. You’re right. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,”
That Enola apologized without throwing her under the bus only agitated Margo. Besides, who the hell was Madame Belfour to chastise their leader? Margo wanted nothing more than to tell the lady to shut the fuck up. However, she wasn’t raised to be disrespectful to her elders, so she just rolled her eyes behind her dark shades and kept her mouth shut.
“You’re not from here. Maybe you’re unworthy of your new role,” the old lady goaded with a nasty smirk.
“Madame Belfour, you are mistaken. I am from here,” Enola corrected.
“But you left. Maybe you should return to the big city.”
“Whoa! Hold on,” Margo interjected. “Who the f–”
“Margo!” her mother scolded.
Even though she was still fairly young, her mom was old school, southern to the core. No matter how disrespectful the elder, she held her tongue. But Margo wasn’t her mother. She was itching to curse the old lady out.
“Learn your place, Madame,” Gideon cautioned. “Take care how you speak to my mate and your leader.”
Since Gideon was well over a hundred years old, disrespecting an elder wasn’t a concern of his.
“Heel, mutt,” the old lady hissed in a tone laced with contempt.
She was completely out of line, and Margo was ready to point it out. But, before anyone in the vicinity could respond to her nasty comment, Enola was on the woman. Her fingertips glowed amber as she wrapped them around the woman’s throat and pushed her back to the SUV. Margo actually felt sorry for the priestess as Enola’s hot fingers burned her flesh.
“Look here, lady. Don’t confuse the respect that I have for my elders for weakness.” The tenor of her tone was low and menacing. “You ever talk to my man like that again, you and me are gonna have problems.”
Madame Belfour’s eyes grew wide as she struggled to breathe. She attempted to pry Enola’s fingers from her flesh, but the heat radiating from Enola’s hand wouldn’t allow it. When her eyes fluttered in Margo’s direction, she could see the woman’s desperation. After all, she had to be desperate to look to her for help.
Margo sighed and rolled her eyes for what had to be the hundredth time that day. And it was only 9:15 in the morning. She cautiously placed her hand on her cousin’s shoulder, hoping she didn’t burn her fingers. Thankfully, the surge of heat was contained to Enola’s hand. Margo suddenly found herself proud. In a short amount of time, Enola had become exceptional at controlling her gifts. But at the moment, she didn’t appear to exercise any control.
“Do you understand me?” Enola sneered.
What Margo saw in her cousin’s eyes was pure rage. She actually worried for the woman.
“Cousin, how is she supposed to agree if you fry her vocal cords?”
With her hand still on Enola’s shoulder, Margo eased next to Madame Belfour. When she looked into Enola’s eyes, her irises were small balls of flames. Standing close by, her empath mother was clutching her head and her lids were tightly closed.
“Enola, darlin’,” Gideon whispered. “Sweetheart, you have to let her go.”
Gideon pretending to give a fuck wasn’t convincing, and Enola wasn’t listening anyway. She seemed entranced. Not wanting to startle Enola, Margo was careful how she touched her. The last thing anyone needed was for her to turn into a big angry bird of fire in the middle of the French Quarter, but Margo had no other choice but to intervene. She was nearly killing one of their elders. That wouldn’t go over too well in their community.
“NOLA!” Margo shouted, pressing her fingers into her shoulder. “Let that lady go!”
When Enola didn’t budge, she bypassed Gideon and Gabriel. For some reason, her so-called gift didn’t work on her ancestors, so she ran over to Alvin Boone. She looked him in the eye and whispered, “Grab her. Now.”
Without hesitation, the large man walked over to Enola, wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her off the priestess. Gabriel caught the woman before she hit the concrete and gently sat her on the curb. Margo frantically checked, praying that her cousin hadn’t seared the woman’s throat. She was choking and crying uncontrollably, but thankfully, other than mild burn marks, seemed okay.
“BOONE!” Gideon roared at the sight of Alvin’s arm wrapped around Enola’s waist.
With rage in his eyes, he growled, bared his canines, and leaped toward the other wolf. Luckily, Gabriel was able to get to his brother and restrain him before he could tear into their friend’s throat. The animal inside her cousin’s husband was scratching at the surface, clawing to get out.
Alvin suddenly blinked away his confusion. He must’ve realized that he was in imminent danger because he released Enola as if she was a carrier of the Bubonic Plague.
“I... I,” he stuttered.
Alvin seemed so disoriented, and Margo felt bad. But she wasn’t strong enough to get Enola off of the woman, and no one else was doing anything. So, it was left to her to do something. It was for the best, even if it offended the wolf in Gideon.
“Animals,” she scoffed before returning her attention to the person who was actually wounded.
