Blood Ties (Creole Nights) Read online

  BLOOD TIES

  By

  Phoenix Daniels

  Contents

  Prologue

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  EPILOGUE

  Blood Lust

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  ABOUT ME

  Blood Ties is presented by Phoenix Daniels

  © 2018 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 authors imagination and is used fictitiously. This is an explicit and erotic publication intended for the enjoyment of adult readers only.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedication to my extremely supportive family, the diehard readers, and my literary mentor, Jessica Watkins of Jessica Watkins Presents. Without her guidance, I wouldn’t have been able to write a grocery list. I’d also like to thank LaVerne Thompson for bullying me into stepping out of my comfort zone long enough to dip my toe into the paranormal pool.

  BLOOD TIES

  By

  Phoenix Daniels

  Prologue

  1884

  New Orleans, Louisiana

  The crowd parted like the Red Sea, giving Gideon and his brother, Gabriel, a clear path to the woman that was bound by thick rope to a tall wooden stake. Gideon stood with a small group of weeping brown women as angry whites shouted accusations of witchcraft.

  If Auriette Moreau was afraid, she didn't show it. She appeared dispassionate and unemotional. Her hazel eyes burned red as she urged her followers, in French, to stifle their tears. Auriette held her head high and glared defiantly at the crowd, intentionally avoiding eye contact with Gabriel. Bright rays from the sun caused her dark skin to glow, making her appear almost angelic. Her thick, curly mane, draping her slender shoulders, blew wildly in the wind. Even then, she was beautiful.

  Auriette pursed her full lips thin as Father Batiste approached. The pasty, white skin on his neck wrinkled over a white collar that was meant to symbolize one’s devotion to God. But not even the clerical collar could disguise the clergyman’s evil intent.

  “Auriette Moreau, you have been tried and found guilty of witchcraft. Having whored yourself to Satan, you are sentenced to death!”

  Hatred lasered from Auriette’s burning irises as the hypocrite shouted, more so to the crowd than to Auriette. For the priest, it was definitely a performance.

  “Before you burn at this stake, I implore you to confess your sins and repent so that the fire may purify your tainted soul.”

  Auriette narrowed her eyes and struggled against the rope. “I will confess my sins, priest!” she spat. “When you confess to your unholy affection for little boys!”

  The priest clutched his bible and nodded angrily to the executioner. As the executioner placed his log in the small bonfire, Gideon could hear the thunderous beat of his twin’s heart. When Gabriel’s breathing hardened, he turned to his brother and stilled him with a look. Sorrow washed, empathetically, over Gideon as his brother struggled, painfully, to watch the woman that he loved helplessly tied to a stake. He placed his hand on Gabriel’s shoulder, urging him to exercise patience.

  “Witch, since you have no remorse, I condemn your soul to hell!” the priest bellowed over the mutterings of the crowd.

  “As if you have the power to condemn my soul, corrupt priest,” Auriette chortled.

  The bottom of her tattered smock danced in the wind as the executioner placed the burning log into the timber that surrounded his brother’s lover. A distinctive howl reverberated from a distance, signaling the time to strike. Within seconds, Gabriel had snatched the coat from his body, and Gideon could hear the cracking and reforming of his brother’s skeleton as he shifted. His clothing was ripped from his body as he turned to beast. Because of the need for opposable thumbs in order to free Auriette from her ties, Gideon remained in human form. It was Gabriel’s choice to shift. He had a strong desire to rip those that he considered transgressors to shreds.

  Gideon’s pack tore through the onlookers as he and Gabriel sprinted towards Auriette. No one would be left alive, but the priest would be given a special death; one with unimaginable pain.

  Black smoke surrounded Auriette as the twins raced to her. Gideon leaped towards her, but slammed into an invisible wall. The yelp from his brother’s wolf indicated that he had run into the barrier as well. Gideon attempted to break through by force, but the shield was impenetrable.

  “WHAT MAGIC IS THIS?” Gideon roared as he punched against the forcefield.

  “Gabriel!” Auriette screamed as the flames grew. “I love you, Gabriel! My love will live long past me!”

  Gabriel’s canine cries resonated through the air as he scratched against the invisible wall. Gideon pounded against the wall, ignoring the screams of the crowd as his pack tore them apart. Just as the fire began to overtake, Auriette screamed, “Hypocrites, whores, and demons, all of you! Je déclenche le feu sur vous tous! I unleash these very flames upon you all!”

  Auriette’s curse echoed for miles.

  Gideon watched, helplessly, as his brother’s lover burned. He inhaled a deep breath. The smell of burning flesh invaded his senses. Gideon turned to find his brother lying naked in the dirt. He wept as a man whose soul had just been ripped from his body, a wolf that had lost his mate. Gideon dropped to the ground and pulled his brother into his arms. A tear fell from his own eye as he held his broken twin.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Present Day

  Enola reluctantly opened the door and allowed Antonio, her cheating ex, to enter her condo. She pointed to the box filled with things he’d left at her place.

  “Damn, babe, can we talk for a minute?”

  Enola folded her arms and looked at him like he was crazy. “What we got to talk about?”

  Antonio threw his hands up as if he had the right to be frustrated. “Nola, baby, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

  “To be honest, Antonio, I wish you’d stop it. I don’t need, nor do I want your sorry ass apology.”

  “So…that’s it, Nola? It’s over? You’re just gonna walk away from everything we had?”

  “Yes, it is, and yes, I am,” Nola said plainly.

  For the life of her, she couldn’t understand why he was looking at her with sad, brown eyes, pretending to care. He clearly didn’t care enough not to cheat on her in the first place. He didn’t care enough to take his skank to a hotel, instead of his apartment when he knew he’d given her a key. And he definitely wasn’t caring about their
relationship when he hopped up with a wet, uncovered dick. But somehow, unbelievably, he wanted Nola to care.

  “Nola, baby, I made a mistake. I’m only human,” he whined. “I swear it’ll never happen again.”

  “Oh, yes it will, but not to me. Get your shit and go,” Enola replied, calmly.

  Antonio closed the distance between them and reached out to touch Enola’s arm.

  “Don’t touch me,” she warned, stepping out of his reach.

  “Come on, Nola. You know you gonna miss all this good loving. Por favor, mamí, let me touch you.”

  Was this motherfucker serious?

  Enola laughed at his audacity. Antonio really likened himself some sort of amazing Latin lover. He was mistaken.

  “You’re delusional,” she chortled. “Antonio, the only reason I put up with that tiny little dick of yours was because I thought you were a good man. Now that I know you’re not, you can take that thumb you call a cock, and get the fuck outta here.”

  Antonio’s eyes filled with rage. He lunged at her, and before Enola could get out of the way, he wrapped his fingers tightly around her neck. She clawed at his fingers as she struggled to breathe.

  “Bitch...who the fuck you talkin’ to like that?” he gritted.

  Enola was shocked by his reaction. Antonio had never laid a hand on her before. She was finding out that she didn’t really know him like she thought she did.

  Enola’s eyes began to water and she became light-headed. She balled her fists and swung wildly at Antonio, catching him in the eye. Unfortunately, the punch didn’t cause him to release the Kung Fu grip he had on her neck.

  “Stupid bitch!” he snarled. “Between your fucked-up attitude, and that dry ass pussy, I had no other choice but to cheat on yo ass!”

  Pure rage bubbled inside at Antonio’s taunting. Enola was literally seeing red. Everything in the room turned red. Enola stopped struggling and stared Antonio directly in the eye. She allowed the fury to take over.

  For some reason, Antonio’s expression changed instantly. He narrowed his eyes, as if studying her. Enola was relieved, but confused, when he howled in pain and snatched his hand from Enola’s neck. She hadn’t even touched him.

  Antonio clutched his hand and stumbled backward. “What the fuck was that?” he gasped.

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” Enola screamed.

  Without a word, Antonio scurried out the door, leaving behind his box of shit.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “2524?”

  “2524, go ahead squad.”

  “24, we have a call of shots fired on 47th and Princeton. The anonymous caller states that she heard four or five gunshots. I have no further information.”

  “10-4, squad. En route.”

  Enola shifted in her seat and adjusted her headset.

  “2532?”

  “2532, go.”

  “32, do me a favor and take a ride with 24. They’re rolling on a call of shots fired.”

  “10-4. On the way.”

  “Thanks, 32.”

  “Enola, can you come with me?”

  Enola looked up from the screen at Karen, her supervisor. Standing next to Karen was her good friend, Crystal. Neither were smiling.

  “I need to see you in my office. Crystal is gonna take over for you.”

  Something was definitely wrong. Enola never got called into the office.

  “Oo-kay,” Enola mumbled as she pulled off her headset and stood. “Is everything okay?”

  “Please, just come with me,” Karen urged.

  Enola shared worried glances with Crystal before nodding and following Karen to her office. They walked in silence, and only spoke once the door was closed.

  “So, what’s up, Karen?”

  “Enola, your aunt Ruby called. You need to get to New Orleans. Sweetheart, your grandmother is dying.”

  Karen spoke softly, and her tone was sympathetic. Enola actually felt bad for her for having to deliver such horrible news.

  “D–did my Aunt Ruby say anything else?” Enola asked.

  “No, just that you need to come right away. Don’t worry, I’ll handle the paperwork for your time off. You just go be with your family.”

  Enola fought the tears that threatened to escape as she thought about the wonderful summers she’d spent with her grandma, Marie. From cooking, to healing with herbs, she had taught her so much throughout the years. As a child, Enola couldn’t wait for the end of the school year because it was the preamble to her spending time with her grandmother in the quarter, as well as the bayou.

  “Enola?” Karen called out, interrupting the moment of nostalgia.

  “Y-yes. Sorry,” Enola recovered.

  “Go. Go see your family. The crime in Chicago will still be here when you get back.”

  Enola forced a chuckle. “Okay, thanks, Karen,” she responded softly before leaving the office.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Enola walked, with her luggage, through the airport. Just before making it to the exit through arrivals, she noticed a tall, white man resembling Herman Munster, holding up a sign that read: ENOLA ROUX.

  She walked towards the giant of a man and said, “I’m Enola,” while handing him her luggage.

  She followed the man out of the sliding doors into a more than luxurious limousine. Neither the car, nor the driver was a surprise to Enola. Even with her down-home swamp values, her Grand-Mere Marie was a wealthy woman. She had created a haircare line that was used by whites and blacks alike. Once she became bored with “Corporate America”, she went public and retired. Marie LaRue was a shrewd businesswoman and a true child of Louisiana. No matter how much money she made, she could still be found tending her crops or shelling peas from the rocking chair on her front porch.

  Thankfully, on the way to her grandmother’s house, the driver avoided the French Quarter. At seven o’clock at night, getting through the traffic in the quarter would have been nearly impossible. Enola relaxed in the backseat as they drove through the busy city, until they were just outside of New Orleans. They were in Destrehan, where the large plantations were located. Memories flooded Enola’s brain as they pulled into her grandmother’s massive plantation. They drove through the greenest of crops, and the most colorful floral brocade that appeared to be an army standing at attention.

  And it felt like home.

  It was home. Her Grandma Marie had instilled the entire history of their colorful family in Enola since she could remember. Their entire line had lived on the enormous plantation since their arrival from West Africa; first as slaves, then as free people, and ultimately proprietors. The large, white mansion, with refurbished slave quarters in the rear, on the outskirts of New Orleans, was her family’s legacy.

  The driver maneuvered the circular driveway and stopped in front of the plantation’s large front porch. Enola’s aunt, Ruby, along with a host of the house staff were waiting out front. Looking at her well-dressed aunt and the very proper staff, Enola wished that she had dressed better. Once the limousine came to a complete stop, Enola hopped out and hurried to her aunt.

  The sight of Ruby, with her arms outstretched, was comforting. Her yellow sundress and long braids were blowing in the wind, and her bronze skin was glowing under the warm sun. Ruby was beautiful, and she knew it. Ruby could play almost any man like a fiddle. She used her looks and charm to bring the most stubborn of men to their knees.

  “Welcome, baby girl,” Ruby breathed as they embraced.

  “It’s good to see you, Ruby.”

  Ruby stepped back and inspected Enola with signature family hazels. “You lookin’ good, girl.”

  Enola smiled, shaking her head. “Naw, you’re the one. You look amazing.”

  “Ah, stop,” Ruby dismissed, waving her hand. “My best days are behind me. Come. I’ll take you to your room so that you can freshen up. Gary will bring your bags up.”

  “Okay. Hey, where’s Margo?”

  Marguerite, or Margo as the family called her, was Ruby�
�s daughter. She and Enola were close to the same age. Since children, she and Margo were thick as thieves. Not even the distance between Chicago and New Orleans was enough to cause them to lose touch. They talked on the phone, at the very least, three times a week.

  “Hell, who knows?” Ruby scoffed. “She’s hardly ever home. She works hard, but parties harder. She’ll be rolling her ass in sooner or later.”

  Ruby linked their arms and escorted Enola past massive pillars, into her grandmother’s enormous home. As soon as she entered, memories of her happy childhood flooded her thoughts. Unfortunately, so did the not-so-happy memories.

  Enola was suddenly confronted by images of her beautiful mother, Olivia. She’d died a few years back from complications stemming from Lupus. Sadness washed over Enola as she entered the elegant, old world parlor. As if reading her mind, Ruby stopped walking and pulled Enola into her arms.

  “I miss her too,” she whispered.

  Enola mourned silently as she held tight to her aunt. The warmth of Ruby’s touch was comforting, but she must have held on too long because her aunt was suddenly struggling to get away.

  Enola stepped back. Ruby inhaled and blew out a harsh breath while wiping sweat from her face. She appeared to be having some sort of panic attack.

  “Ruby, are you okay?” Enola asked, reaching out to her aunt.

  Ruby took a quick step back, avoiding Enola’s touch.

  “Aunt Ruby?”

  Enola was concerned. Her aunt seemed completely frazzled.

  “I’m fine, sweetie. These damn hot flashes…whoo!”

  “Oh,” Enola said, still concerned. “You sure you're okay?”

  “Yeah, girl. Now, come on. Let me get you to your room.”

  “O-okay.”

  Ruby led Enola up the stairs and to her room without touching her once. Once she was inside, Ruby quickly retreated down the hall.

  Damn! Hot flashes ain't no joke.