Wild Fever (8 page)

It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t treat it as such. “I have my reasons.”

“Because of your parent’s deaths?” She tapped his chest with a finger. “It didn’t take much to put two and two together. The story around town was that your parents died in a boating accident, but I gather it was one of these things you hunt.”

He nodded, unable to voice the words.

“I’m so sorry, Vincent.” She tightened her arm across his chest in a half hug. “I lost my parents as well.”

“You don’t remember me being there, do you?”

There was a beat of silence before she rose up to look at him. “At Maman’s. Yes, you were there when they came to tell her about my parent’s car accident.”

He waited, knowing she was smart enough now to put it together. Would she hate him for keeping the truth from her all this time? He wouldn’t blame her if she did.

“Oh, God,” she said as she jerked upright. “My parents didn’t die in a car accident, did they?”

Vincent sat up and tucked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face. “They happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. The demon didn’t target them. It ran from us and headed straight to the road where your parents were on their way to dinner.”

Her eyes swam with tears. “Did you kill the demon?”

“That night before we notified Maria.”

“I’m glad.”
 

CHAPTER EIGHT

All these years she had thought her parents died in a car accident. In a way they did, but not by running off the road because of a blown tire as she had been told.

Then there were the Hoodoo symbols on her grandmother’s house. So many secrets. What else was being kept hidden from her?

She turned her gaze to Vincent who watched her carefully. “What is it about our parish that brings these creatures?”

The relief on Vincent’s face was plain to see. He leaned back against the headboard. “I asked my father that same question when I was eight years old. The truth is that the creatures are everywhere. We’re one of the few families throughout the States who protect an area.”

“There are more families like yours?” She couldn’t imagine there being anyone like the Chiassons, with their vivid blue eyes and warrior attitude.

“A few.”

When his eyes dropped to her chest, Olivia realized she was still naked. Her breast swelled and her nipples puckered under his gaze.

She swallowed loudly and gathered the sheet in her hand. Vincent looked at her as if she might shatter at any moment. And she just might after everything she had witnessed and learned that night.

How could she not believe it though? The stories of strange sightings had made their rounds through the small town often. Olivia herself had heard peculiar sounds late at night, but her grandmother had told her it was just the animals of the bayou.

Olivia leaned into Vincent’s hand when he cupped her cheek. She wished they had all night to themselves, but there was something dark and dangerous after her.

“I wish my life was different,” he said, a small frown marring his forehead. “I wish I had asked you out years ago. I wish...for so many things.”

He was telling her that they didn’t have a future, that what happened between them wouldn’t happen again. Olivia hadn’t been looking for a relationship, but she had never expected to end up in Vincent Chiasson’s arms.

She pulled his hand from her face and smiled. “I’ve been out in the world, and I’ve seen what it had to offer. I thought I had found the man who would be my husband, but it turns out what I was looking for was right here at home.”

“Olivia, no,” he said and rose from the bed. “Don’t do this. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t be in any kind of relationship.”

It took her a minute to realize why he was pulling away. “You’re afraid.”

He paused in the process of pulling on his jeans. “I’m not scared to give my heart to someone.”

“No. You’re scared of losing someone.” How could she not have seen it before? He kept a wall between himself and the world, a protection from the wickedness that invaded his life.

Vincent fastened his jeans and grabbed a shirt from his closet before he pulled it on over his head. “I care about you. Because of that, I won’t subject you to what every Chiasson woman endures.”

“The love of their men.”

His face hardened. “Death. Most by the hands of the creatures we hunt.”

She opened her mouth to reply, but he left the room before she could. For several seconds, Olivia stared at the doorway hoping he would return.

When he didn’t, she dressed and ran her hands through her hair before she stepped into the hallway. Only to draw up short when she spotted Lincoln nonchalantly leaning against the wall.

He pushed away and slowly walked to her. “Vincent is a complicated person. He’s stubborn as hell, and he thinks he has to shoulder everything himself.”

“He won’t ever let me in, will he?”

“That’s the thing, Olivia. He did let you in. That’s why he’s pushing you away so hard. Vincent hides many things, but the one thing he could never hide was his fascination with you. He got drunk the night you left Lyons Point.”

Olivia’s mind reeled with the news. “He never even looked at me before tonight.”

“Oh, he looked. Always. We followed you home many late nights just to make sure you arrived safely.”

Was that why she had never been afraid in the bayou? Did she know that someone watched over her? Thinking back, she remembered her grandmother often looking into the trees after Olivia got home.

“Did my grandmother know what y’all did?”

Lincoln nodded and gathered his long dark hair at the nape of his neck to tie it off. “She knew it was Vincent who looked out for you.”

“Why didn’t he ever say anything? If he only knew the outrageous things I did to get his attention.”

“Our parents died on the same day, but the hours between when our father found our mother and his own death has stayed with Vin. We were both there, but he saw much more than I did. Though I can still remember the sound of our father’s yell of grief. That’s what keeps Vincent from telling you of his love.”

That drew Olivia up short. Lincoln smiled sadly as she gawked at him.

“You didn’t expect that, did you? Vincent won’t admit it to anyone, but he does love you. Why else would he look in on Maria every week and ask about you? Why else would he follow you home every night before you left town? Why else would he think to save you first, rather than kill the creature we’ve been hunting? Why else would he bring a woman to our home – and his bed – for the first time?”

With each of Lincoln’s questions, more arose in her head. She remained in the hallway long after he walked away. Vincent had admitted to her that he cared, but love?
 

Then again, who was she to think she knew Vincent? Lincoln knew him better than anyone.

Olivia made her way back downstairs. She glanced in a doorway as she passed and halted when she saw Vincent with his back to her. He stared at a picture of his parents that hung over the mantel.

There was only one light on, and it came from a large desk off to his right piled with books and papers. To his left were bookshelves stuffed to the brim with books.

Movement caught her eye, and she spotted Lincoln as he came to stand next to Vincent. Olivia knew she should let them know she was there, but she wasn’t sure what to say to Vincent, especially after the bombshell Lincoln had dropped.

She was deciding on whether to stay or go to the kitchen when Lincoln said, “You’re a fool if you let her go.”

“Leave it alone,” Vincent said dangerously.

Olivia stepped to the side against the wall so they wouldn’t see her. Eavesdropping was bad, and yet, she couldn’t make her feet move away.

“Olivia has finally returned, and you’ve given in to your desire for her,” Lincoln stated. “If you let her walk out of your life, you’ll spend the rest of it miserable.”

Vincent blew out a long breath. “You don’t know that.”

“You’ve had a taste of her. Tell me that you could forget her, and I’ll drop the issue now.”

Olivia squeezed her eyes closed hoping that she had made some kind of impression on Vincent. She strained her ears to hear.

“I couldn’t forget her if I tried,” he admitted, his voice low and full of pain.

“Then hold on to her, Vin.”

“I can’t.”

Olivia frowned as Lincoln let out a slew of curses. She might be hurt by Vincent’s words, but all it did was make her want to fight for him. She had dreamt of finding the perfect man, but it wasn’t until she had been held in his arms, kissed by his lips, and loved so tenderly that Olivia knew her perfect man was none other than Vincent Chiasson.

“You figured something out,” Lincoln said, drawing her out of her thoughts.

“The creature that killed our parents simply vanished once they were dead. Now, eleven years later it’s returned and has been focusing on any woman connected to us. I do believe someone has a vendetta against our family, and they won’t be happy until all of us are dead.”

“Then why haven’t they attacked us directly? Why kill people we know?”

“Because they want to hurt us first.”

“Shit,” Lincoln cursed. “And once we’re dead, Riley will return home and be an easy target.”

“The Chiasson’s will be wiped out. Leaving the parish open to all sorts of evil.”

Olivia had heard enough. She darted into the kitchen and found the phone. It might be almost two in the morning, but she knew her grandmother would answer her cell phone.

Her grandmother answered on the second ring, “Hello?”

“Maman,” Olivia said and faced the doorway so she could see when someone walked in. “I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s an emergency.”

“Olivia?” she asked, her voice rising. “I thought you might be occupied with Vincent. What are you doing calling me?”

“I’ll tell you all about it later. Suffice it to say that they saved me tonight.”

“Lincoln phoned earlier to tell me. I still can’t believe something came after you.”

She sighed wearily. “Maman, you know everyone in this parish. Who do you know that would have a grudge against the Chiassons?”

“Sha, you shouldn’t get mixed up in that.”

“I wasn’t given a choice, since I was attacked simply because I happened to speak to Beau at the store.”

Her grandmother let loose a string of Cajun French that was mumbled too low for Olivia to comprehend. “Once you start digging, sha, you’re liable not to like what you find.”

“You mean like the Hoodoo symbols on the house?”

“Exactly like that,” her grandmother grumbled. “I know the things that are out there, Olivia. I did what I had to do to protect you and myself.”

Olivia rubbed her neck. “I can understand that. Right now we need to stop whoever is after Vincent and his brothers. They’ve already killed three girls. I was almost the fourth, and I seriously doubt they’ll give up so easily on seeing me dead.”

“I won’t lose you,” her grandmother vowed solemnly through the phone.
 

“Then tell me what you know.”

There was a long pause, and then her grandmother said, “When Vincent’s father chose Yvonne as his wife, she wasn’t the only woman he had been dating. Once married, however, he was faithful, no matter how many times others tried to lure him away from Yvonne.”

“Who was the other woman he dated?”

“Years went by, and no matter the rumors, Yvonne and Bran remained happy and devoted to each other. They brought four sons and a daughter into the world, all while keeping the parish safe.”

Olivia drew in a calming breath. “Who was the woman?”

Instead of answering, her grandmother asked, “Did Vincent tell you about your parents?”

“Yes.”
 

“I should’ve done that years ago, but when you moved away I didn’t see the point.”

Olivia looked down at her thumb to see her nail broken to the quick. She pulled off the rest of the nail and toyed with it. “Did you know that Vincent –”

“Followed you home all the time? Yes. I’ve also known of his love for you. Whether you’ve known it or not, you’ve held a good man’s heart in your hands.”

Olivia let the nail drop to the floor. “I know it now.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Well, I’m not walking away if that’s what you’re asking.”

She could practically see her grandmother’s smile through the phone as she said, “That’s my girl. We Breaux’s are fighters.”

“Yes, we are.”

“The woman you need to look for is Patricia Hebert.”

Olivia nearly dropped the phone.
 

“Listen to me carefully, sha,” her grandmother said. “There have been stories of Pat practicing a mixture of Voodoo and witchcraft for a long time. She’s powerful, powerful enough to call forth a golem. The boys are going to have their hands full.”