From the Ashes (Witches of The Demon Isle Book 8) (22 page)

She groaned and rolled her eyes. “Okay one-track-mind. We’d better get a move on.” She aimed her head to the road.

With a sharp inhale and exhale, he had the jeep back on tar, and a few minutes later parked in the driveway. Night was coming, the stone shapes of the gargoyles guarding the front porch would awaken. And as expected, Mack was already inside waiting.

They cast each other a wary glance, stumbling unwillingly into the house to speak of William Wakefield’s doom.

CHAPTER 15

Riley grabbed the empty bin and headed out to clear off the table recently evacuated by its guests. Annie had been correct in her assumption that Jean would offer Riley a job. But this evening he was off, and Annie was going to show him around the colony. She claimed it would take a few hours to walk around it all. From what he’d seen in short jaunts outside, it didn’t seem all that big. A few blocks he estimated.

He’d kept a low profile the first few days, to let the locals get used to him being around. Jean had a crazy amount of local traffic coming in for drinks, or food, to check him out with their own eyes.

Annie was right when she said they were quite the collection here. He’d met other vampires, witches, even a sorcerer, he wasn’t sure the difference but apparently there was one. He’d been cornered by a Siren; she didn’t attempt to feed off him, which would have been her natural instinct. He wondered how she lived without feeding. Or how she fed without going too far. He never had the chance to ask though, as like with all the others, she pouted and left when he’d turned down her advances.

Why on earth did there have to be so many hot women around this place? And why did they all seem so interested in him, when he was not? 

Were there any male
anythings
around this joint? It was like every woman living in Sorcier had to come check out the new meat. Being him… all Riley wanted was the one woman he’d run away from back on The Demon Isle. And she’d never want him back.

So why was he clinging to hope?

Another hour later, Annie called into the kitchen where Riley was putting away dishes.

“You ready? Jean says it’s slow enough we can go now.”

“Yeah, give me just a minute.” He finished up and met her out front.

“Have fun and stay out of trouble,” warned Jean with a warm smile. Mostly aimed at her daughter.

“Of course, Mother. When do I ever get into trouble?”

Jean humpfed and smirked as they left the pub.

The sun had lowered below the buildings, a light cloud cover high in the sky. Annie waved and greeted others as they ambled down the sidewalk. Riley  had been down this section of the street, but at the end of the block they stopped. He’d assumed the colony ended around this point, but he’d been way wrong. Annie pointed both to their right and left, each side going on for many blocks.

“For as long as your eye can see, this is our colony.”

“Wow. Much, much bigger than I thought.”

“Impressive huh? There’s thousands of us in this colony.”

“Wow. I never knew the supernatural community was so big. I guess not so much compared to regular humans. How do you keep this hidden? It’s like the French Quarter should be double the size it is.”

“We have powerful magic on our side.”

“At the risk of sounding repetitive, I had no idea something like this existed. No idea magic this powerful existed.”

Annie sucked in apprehensively. “You say you’re non-practicing? Can I ask why?” She aimed them to the right and they headed across the street.

Riley sighed. He supposed it was no great secret, or no point in hiding why.

“My brother mostly. He’s not a fan of magic and we just don’t.”

“So you have a brother? Is he hot as you? Does his heart belong to another woman?”

Riley grunted, unabashed by her boldness. She was a bit like Lizzy.

“You’re easy to rile,” she stated. “If I make you uncomfortable, you only need to say.”

“It’s fine. It’s refreshing actually. I prefer bluntness over holding back.”

She smiled. “Coffee?”

“Um, you don’t drink coffee.”

“No. They serve my kind too. But I know humans are hooked on the stuff.”

“Actually, a coffee sounds good.”

They ordered and exited the shop, with only a few odd stares in his direction. It was strange to know the cup Annie sipped from contained animal blood, not coffee. Regardless, it didn’t ruin his appetite.

“Don’t worry about all the stares,” said Annie as they kept moving down the sidewalk. “You’re the shiny new toy. They’ll stop wanting to play with you soon.”

He shook his head and followed her. “We heading anywhere specific?”

“Eventually. On our way there, I figured I’d let you get the lay of the land a little. For when you decide to venture off on your own.”

“So was this place always this big?” asked Riley.

“It’s grown some. But my father set aside a large space, hoping for growth. So far we have not outgrown it.”

“I imagine that’s because most people have no idea you exist.”

“Could be. We don’t brag about it often.”

“And why here? Why in the heart of the French Quarter?”

“That was Jean’s idea. She’s from French Canada. An Acadian.”

“I had surmised that. The accent is telling.”

“It’s also a magical hotspot. Magic is stronger here.”

“What causes that?” He wondered if they had their own version of a power source, like The Demon Isle.

“I’m not the one to ask about that. Jean would be able to explain it better. I only know there’s some sort of magical convergence and that’s why this place was chosen. Back in the mid-1700’s or so, the Acadian’s were forced to leave Canada. Some fled across the borders into the States. Jean was one of them and that’s where she met my
father.
He was struggling with his inner demons, and having recently created me. He and my mother forged an instant friendship.”

Riley listened, intrigued by the story, at the same time casting his gaze back and forth taking in all the scenery. It wasn’t unlike being in the French Quarter, except that some of the residents smiled in greeting with fangs protruding through their lips. Or outwardly practiced magic in the open.

“I’ve had only limited interactions with vampires,” Riley told Annie. “It’s hard to imagine them creating deep friendships.” He could only imagine William Wakefield’s hand strangling him. But Melinda always claimed the vampire was her closest friend. That familiar pang of jealousy drummed in his chest. He blinked a few times, realizing he’d stopped paying attention to Annie. She was still explaining how this place had started.

“After a time,” she was saying, “when it was clear the Acadian’s would not be so easily welcomed back to Canada, Jean and my father headed south, hoping for a fresh start. They wanted to find a place to live in safety, and as much peace as was possible.”

“And this place was born out of that idea.”

“Yes.”

“You claim your mother and father are close, and yet he never comes to visit?”

“As I said, vampires live on different timelines. We can go many long years without seeing someone and then see them as if no time has passed.” She hesitated for a moment. It was the first time she’d done that. “I did see him, fairly recently. Around thirty years ago.”

“So that means what? One vampire year?” he jested, eyes beaming.

“You’re funny when you want to be.” She laughed. “It’s not like measuring dog years. There is no certain number of vampire years being equivalent to one human year.”

“Yeah, I didn’t imagine there was. So what’s it like to see someone after that long? Is it awkward?”

“Not at all. But it’s always a bit sad… with him.”

“Because he leaves again?”

“No. Just seeing him. Seeing the self-loathing when he looks at me. He still sees me as his worst failure.”

“I don’t understand how the vampire/sire relationship works. Are you tied to him in some way? Do you become actual family?”

“No. It’s not really like that at all. My father, Jean, and I, are a unique case, in that the one who sired me didn’t just leave me to my own devices. He took me in and cared for me. And then when Jean came along, he was happy to have a mother figure take over. He’s not particularly the fatherly type, but he tries hard. And means well. And never shirks from responsibility. Ever.”

“Since he turned you at least,” Riley said.

“I guess you could say I was a
turning
point in his life,” she quipped with a dark chuckle.

“Ooh, good one. You can be funny too.” He rolled his eyes. Riley liked Annie’s easygoing nature. It was a nice break from his own brain and relentless thoughts.

“Still, I hope one day he can look at me with happiness. Forgive himself already. Because I never blamed him, once. I love who I am. Who he made me.”

“You seem very… settled in your own skin.” How jealous he was of that.

“And you’re not,” she stated, a hint of sympathy on her tongue.

New subject
, thought Riley. Wasn’t ready to go there. “So your mother, and father, they’re not a thing?”

“No. Not at all. Only good friends. More than friends, really… they have a deep kinship. And not that it matters really, but Jean is technically old enough to be mother to my father, if they were human. It’s all really nothing to do with mother, father, daughter… it just makes it easier in the real world to think of it in those terms. But being that I’m forever twenty, it’s nice to think I have them. It’s as real a family as I’ll ever have.”

“Family doesn’t have to be blood. Sometimes blood is…”
new subject,
he decided again. “Your mother holds her age well. Is that a vampire thing?”

“A little, but mostly no. And she’d take that as a compliment. She was fifty when she got turned. Stunning if you ask me. But once turned, we pretty much look the same. It doesn’t turn back the clock, but it makes a healthier, stronger, much less destructible version of yourself.”

Riley was learning more about vampires than he’d ever thought he would.

“So how does one find their way around Sorcier? Are there cars? Taxi’s? Maps?” He was already certain he was lost, having no idea how to find Jean’s pub from here.

“Just ask, anyone will give you directions. But the easiest way to remember is that we set up the town like a grid.” She pointed out the numbers on the street signs. They were on the intersection of three-hundred north and four-hundred south. “We started out a ten north and ten east, otherwise known as Sorcier Street. Otherwise named after our Colony.”

“Okay, yeah. I get it. Should be easy enough to find my way.”

“And if you have far to go, or get tired of walking, we do have carriages that will pick you up.” 

“Like horse and buggy?”

“Yes. I know, not very modern. But it works here.”

“It’s almost like being back on The Dem…” he cut himself off. No use talking about that place. He had no clue what these people knew about the Isle but he wasn’t about to start trouble.

Annie finished his sentence for him. “You came from The Demon Isle, didn’t you?”

He refused to reply, or at least, his vocal chords refused to.

“Don’t worry, Riley. The Howard Witches are well known and respected in these parts. They are possibly the most famous witch family around.”

“There’s another family, I’d say more infamous than famous,” alleged Riley.

“If you’re asking if I recognize the name Deane…”

He nodded uneasily.

She put her hand on his arm and grasped him in a kind gesture.

“We are not our bloodlines, Riley Deane. I am certainly not mine. Our ancestor’s deeds do not define us.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m not.”

“And there we get to it at last.”

“What?”

“The reason you’re here, I’d wager.”

“Why would being here make any difference?”

“To quote yourself, I have no idea. But I can see you’re itching to get out of your skin.”

“Not so much my skin, as much as the red curse that flows underneath it.”

She flashed her fangs with a hiss. “I could help you with that.”

Riley’s eyes stretched wide, breath catching on its way out. Annie’s fangs retracted with an amused crack forming on her face.

“Wow. You believed me there for a minute.”

“You can be very convincing.” He swallowed the shock of seeing her like that. “How do you live, not drinking blood? Human blood,” he corrected. “Do you ever get tempted?”

“Yes. I do. There’s been a few times I’ve come disastrously close.”
Intimate connections,
she kept to herself.

“But when you’re just walking down the street, with someone like me, with living blood rushing through his veins, how do you…” he cut himself off, seeing the temptation in her eyes, her lips licking at the fangs elongating.

“It’s not always easy. But when you put it like that…”

New subject,
he thought for the hundredth time that day.

“From this side of your skin, I dare say you’d taste a hundred times better than you smell.”

“What do I smell like?” he dared ask.

“Like sun warmed sweet tea spiced with cinnamon. Laced with brown sugar. Like life…”

“Maybe we should talk about something else…” Riley was getting worried about the gleam in her eyes. “I would really hate to be the guy that broke your no human blood vow.”