Queen of the Dead (The Dead and Not So Dead Book 1) Read online

  Unfortunately, when you have a family that lives extended time periods you get insight into society. Insight that would probably have you cringing and feeling like we fucking suck.

  It was nearly noon now and the street was picking up. I reached my hands above my head, hitting Raphi on the nose. He let out a small growl. So growly. I tilted my head up and smiled at him, those eyes melting to honey as he nipped at my nose.

  “Ow,” I complained as Dorian lifted an eyebrow and offered Raphi an indecipherable look. I was about to ask for a translation when the balcony building doors opened and my face broke into a big fucking smile.

  “To what do we owe the pleasure?” I grinned up at a very handsome and familiar face.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Little Rose.” Zachariah offered. He dragged out a chair as my men tensed. They didn’t like Zachariah and I’ll give you one guess why.

  The Voodoo priest was absolutely above the law in every single way. Even mine. He was the only priest in the area and one of the scariest motherfuckers I knew. No one knew how old he was or just when he had come to New Orleans. He just had always been here to control the things that my family couldn’t. I didn’t mind in the least and the view was an added benefit because Zachariah was hot. Like melting hot. Bat shit crazy, so rumors say, but hot.

  Yet, none of those reasons were why they didn’t like him.

  “I am watching hellhounds talk about sexual assault prevention to the same drunk Bourbon street population they have been harassing,” I grinned and took a sip of my drink. One of the perks of being Queen of the Dead? The local supernatural venues didn’t even attempt to stop my underage drinking. The humans did, but that hadn’t worked out very well for them either. After one minute of compulsion from my vampires I was able to legally drink in any establishment I wanted within the French Quarter.

  Zachariah just smiled in response and I watched as he leaned forward,studying me intently. I knew he had a question but instead of pressing him, I just took my damn time drinking in the sexy man before me.

  He was dressed in an unbuttoned white short-sleeve shirt which gave a full-access view of his dark, solid abs. Forget 6-pack. He had like an 8-pack or something equally ridiculous and his arms were massive. The rich color of his skin glowed brilliantly against the white. It made his odd silver eyes stand out so much more. As usual, he was barefoot but his feet and hands were adorned with silver tattoos that matched the small ring holding back his shoulder length ebony dreads. Around his neck was a small, polished necklace of animal skulls that diverted a lot of attention to his built chest. At least my attention.

  Christ, there was something so different about him. The power he radiated didn’t feel mortal but it didn’t feel dead either. It felt primordial and powerful. He seemed so much more supernatural than everyone else. The way his full lips turned up, the bastard knew it.

  “What’s on your mind?” I finally asked him as Raphi began to play with my hair once again. Zachariah tracked the movement and then focused back on me.

  “Have dinner with me tonight,” he demanded softly. My eyes widened as my boys silently tensed. Well, shit that was unexpected.

  I tilted my head to the side as his eyes glinted with something dark and amusing. I took another sip of bourbon.

  “Where would we go? It might be dangerous to have the Queen of the Dead and the only Voodoo priest in America wandering around together in public.”

  “My house,” he spoke softly, his voice like a song.

  Raphi let out a low growl but Zachariah ignored him and kept his eyes on me. I was insanely curious why he wanted to go to dinner with him. However, despite the boys concerns, I didn’t think this was just about Zachariah liking me. That was why they disliked him, by the way. I know. Big surprise.

  No, I knew this was larger than that. If Zachariah wanted to flirt with me, he wouldn’t schedule a dinner to do it.

  “What time?” I responded. The table shuddered as someone attempted to loosen their grip on it. I almost snorted as Alaric nearly broke it. I supposed it could have been Dorian, but I knew my boys pretty well. I wanted badly to gauge their individual reactions but kept my eyes on the priest.

  “Eight,” he responded. “I’ll send a car.”

  Those mercury eyes glinted with something absolutely devilish. I started to nod in reply, but he was gone that quickly, leaving me with the boys. I barely turned before Dorian bore down on me, caging me in the chair and forcing me to lean against Raphi. The incubus’s eyes smouldered as he studied my face for something. What the fuck was his problem?

  “What is your problem?” I snapped. Full disclosure, though, I had to admit I loved how close he was to me right now.

  Dorian shook his head in disbelief. “You really don’t know?”

  Alaric spoke next. “Why are you getting dinner with him?”

  I looked at the both of them. “Why are you two acting so much weirder than normal about this?” I purposely avoided his question because, frankly, I just fucking wanted to. It wasn’t as complicated as they were making it out to be, and I was curious as hell to know what he had to say. Zachariah didn’t make casual plans. Ever. So I had to assume it was important.

  Abel spoke softly, the voice of reason. “She has absolutely no idea. Stop complicating shit, brother. Unless you are planning to discuss it.”

  “Know what?” I demanded. Raphi grasped my hair again and began to twist it gently. Twist. Untwist. Twist. Untwist. I met his eyes and he seemed to be struggling with an inner turmoil.

  “Don’t get dinner with him,” Raphi mumbled through a clenched jaw.

  “Why?” I asked out loud.

  All four of them seemed to still at my question. A discomfiting silence ensued. Alright then. Fuck it. I stood up and shook my head. I wasn’t positive who pissed in their cheerios this morning, but I didn’t have to eat it.

  “Don’t leave.” Abel stood up, his eyes soft and concerned.

  I turned to Alaric who looked furious but remained silent. It was so unlike his usual cold and formal personality it freaked me out. Almost as much as Abel looking disheartened. My eyes trailed to Dorian, his eyes filled with pain and a small honest-to-god pout on his lips. When I looked to Raphi, I found his walls up in full force, the animal inside backing away.

  What the actual fuck?

  Sometimes I questioned how these men were considered so scary and badass. Right now, it was more of a kicked puppy vibe.

  “Alright,” I spoke softly,standing by the door. “Someone needs to explain what it is that I did wrong here. I’m not a mind reader boys.”

  “Do you like him?” Abel asked quietly.

  Was I really having this conversation right now?

  “I’m not sure,” I answered honestly. “I don’t know him well enough.”

  “Exactly,” Alaric said in a clinical, yet heated voice. Odd contrast.

  “So wouldn’t I want to get to know him if I liked him…” I trailed off, very confused. I mean I liked these boys more but I wasn’t exactly placing all my money on believing two decades-old vampire hotties, a century old succubus, and a super powerful shifter liked little old me. Especially since they had never tried to turn our relationship romantic. Plus, I couldn’t choose between them… like could not, would not. So, yeah.

  I really did like Zachariah, but I just didn’t know him. My magic loved his power though, so I felt comfortable around him. If a kitten could be comfortable around a massive lion. I have to imagine most people felt intimidated around him. He played his own game and no one knew the rules. It wouldn’t matter if you had them because you would still lose. His experience far outmatched anyone I had ever met.

  “No,” Dorian exploded up off his seat. “That is a terrible idea!”

  Age made some people very dramatic.

  “Why?” I asked. Raphi met my gaze, his eyes flashing to almost black.

  I felt the vibration and heat in the air before I heard it. In a move that was probably going to cause them pain, but the lesser of two evils, I let my power slip out to wrap around them. I knocked the boys to the ground as a massive burst of hellfire hit the spot where my head had just been. Fucking shit.

  “What the fuck?” Dorian snarled and rolled to his side as we looked over the balcony. It seemed the hellhounds had grown tired of their punishment.

  “Bad move you overgrown mutts.” I stood up on the railing and jumped down. The drunk patronage screamed and ran away from what probably looked like a fucked up magic show. Luckily, whatever made me be able to hang with the dead also made as agile as a motherfucking cat.

  Yes, I am positive I could have found another analogy there but I didn’t. We’ll get to why I don’t have a cat later but suffice it to say it has to do with a certain wolf and his canine predisposition toward the feline species.

  “Fuck off, bitch,” the stupid hellhound growled. It looked like they weren’t going to cut it in my town. I had a feeling some of the new hellhounds would have to die. Without pretense I let my power curl around him as the air stilled.

  Now, how would I describe my power? I felt like it deserved some description since it could either suck the life out of someone or give it back. It felt like smoke to me, if that made sense. It felt wispy and warm against my skin and when it lashed out against others it felt like leather whips. It could also feel like snakes or metal shackles. Whatever you found uncomfortable, I could make a reality. I wondered what this guy was feeling. All the hellhounds locked down into place as I smiled widely. The fucker who threw the hellfire was panting and trying to struggle against it. Shame it wasn’t the same man as before, I wouldn’t have felt bad about killing him.

  “It likes you struggling,” I whispered as I neared him, my eyes hooded from the power I was using.
/>
  Now you might be thinking death was a bit over the top. The guy was an asshole, sure. But death? Really? You have to remember though, these guys wouldn’t actually die. They would be sent back to the demonic realm and pop back up here again eventually. So, yes I killed them but the death was temporary.

  Moral lines got very blurred in this field of work.

  I watched as I drained the life out of him and the hellhounds grew silent. The Alpha stood with a torn expression on his face as I reached the point where the hound would be sent back to the demonic realm. I stopped and looked at the Alpha with a cocked eyebrow.

  “I’ll send him back to the realm,” he stated softly, his body vibrating with tension. I released my power and let some of his essence back into the guilty hound, leaving him weak and useless. I walked toward the Alpha and looked up at him. He had made the right move. His decision would ensure the hound could still function in the demonic realm instead of being a useless spirit waiting for their body to heal from the injuries I had inflicted.

  “Be sure to do that, Alpha,” I stated softly. “Next time I won’t hesitate to kill one. I understand it’s hard for some individuals to accept being under a young woman’s rule.”

  He met my eyes for a minute, neither of us backing down until he finally broke his gaze in submission. I stepped closer to him and placed a hand against his muscular chest. I grinned at his frustrated, heated expression and whispered.

  “Good doggie.”

  Then I walked away.

  I was tired of all this nonsense today and I needed some space. Raphi whispered something to another of the offending hellhounds as he held him by the neck. The man nodded wordlessly. Abel watched with interest as if the moment was his own personal show. Sometimes he could be a tad detached from reality. Dorian observed the unconscious man with disdain. Alaric, on the other hand, retained complete control of his expression. Whatever had been going on in the balcony had disappeared.

  “Now, what?” Dorian asked as the five of us left behind the mess the hellhounds needed to clean up.

  “Well,” I sighed looking up into the sunny bright blue sky. “I suppose we get the rest of the day off.”

  “We have no one else to meet with?” Abel asked with a slight frown. He placed a hand on my lower back that warmed me.

  “Nope!” I popped my “P.” “We have been ahead of schedule because I’m no longer in school.”

  “Thank the maker!”

  My phone rang, the public one, as a groan sounded from everyone around me. I had spoken too soon.

  Cruel universe, why can’t I have one goddamned Saturday to myself?

  I flipped it open. Yes. Flipped. I still use a crap cellphone for all these motherfuckers to get in touch with me. My other cell phone remained unused and very fancy. Who was I going to text? All my friends were with me nearly round the clock.

  “Hello.” My voice drifted out tired and bored.

  “Narcissa!” An Irish brogue filled my ear. “Yer feckin’ vampires are startin' problems in me boozer.”

  Oh, dear maker.

  I tried to not roll my eyes and attempted to adjust to his accent.

  I spoke with frustration. “Declan, you are a fucking demi-god. Of luck, I might add. There is nothing you can do to break up a vampire bar fight?”

  His laughter rolled softly. I could tell he was smiling. “You’re probably roi, lass. I cud stop it. but I won’t.”

  He hung up.

  Motherfucking leprechaun bastard.

  “Let’s go,” I snarled and turned the corner to head towards another main street, this one filled with far more supernatural businesses.

  Declan Flannery had made New Orleans his home sometime around the Irish potato famine. As a leprechaun in Ireland, he had been rather run-of-the-mill. Now, in America? Well, the bastard had inspired your very own Lucky Charms cereal and every other St. Patrick’s Day-inspired product. All leprechauns were demi-gods in their own right, having been born from a union between the god of luck and a fortunate human. It just so happened that Declan was the most powerful, oldest, and oddest in America. He was also a lazy piece of shit.

  A sexy, brash, unapologetic piece of shit.

  I let the twins enter ahead of me as I stepped through the dark wood bar that smelled of cigar smoke and whiskey. It was a nice pub actually. Served great food but was ruined by the cheesy fucking name. “The Pot of Gold.” I still loved it.

  “What the fuck is the problem?” My power surged as it made all of the patronage, all the monsters, freeze and take notice. Including the vampires.

  As I mentioned, my twins weren’t part of a clan but these guys...were. Specifically, two opposing clans. It was sort of like gangs. The only difference here was that one originated in Egypt and the other South America. Unlike shifters who had very strong female representation, vampires tended to only have powerful males. It always made me irrationally annoyed.

  I stepped up to two very familiar men and leveled a glowering stare at them. Both were wide-eyed and rigid, a pair of nearly black eyes and a pair of soft amber eyes staring fixedly. I could tell from the pallor of their skin they had recently fed. So, what was the fucking issue? Vampires only got testy if they hadn’t eaten. Unless, of course, you had powerful lineage like my twins.

  As mentioned, there were two different type of vampires. Those born a vampire and those turned a vampire. My twins were born vampires and were very much alive. They did drink blood but it was coupled with a human diet of food and water. These men had been changed. There was always a difference in their power, a cold dread that made them feel more like the dead. I mean technically they had died so I had more control over them than most.

  “Your Majesty,” the South American clan member spoke. I could never remember their fucking names. “We were simply having a disagreement.”

  “That resulted in him draining one of our men,” the other spat. He pointed to a man on the floor being fed blood from one of their pet humans. Yeah. They kept humans around to feed off them.

  And you thought slavery died out with the Sixteenth Amendment.

  They were apparently willing though. Orgasmic bite and all. I still made the vamps file official paperwork with me once a month that stated the humans had signed consent before any of the feedings. I probably needed to look further into that process in my downtime.

  “What was the argument about?” I demanded. A deep laugh sounded and the scent of clover filled the air. Original, right? I looked up to briefly see a brilliant smile flash as Declan strolled towards us. He bounced on his toes as he looked between the two men. The excitement on his face was impish.

  Declan loved violence. At least as much as he loved sex. Rumor has it he loved that as well, although I’d never seen him with anyone. Something about that niggled at my brain. Something I didn’t want to analyze at the moment.

  “Tell 'er what it was about,” he goaded. He flashed a smile at me. “On St. Patrick’s staff, Lass, you’ll love this.”

  Silence.

  Declan shot a dark look at one of the vampires insisting upon the answer.

  “We were talking about which of your men fuck you.”

  Saints and beggorah. Bad move dude.

  Now, I understood why Declan wanted us here. Before I could even step out of the way, Raphi, my very protective shifter broke both their necks. He let out a primal snarl and stepped back with a lupine grace I envied.

  The vampires would live but not without a sore neck for a few days. I know, you probably think it’s odd that I keep reassuring you that they will live since I’m essentially death. I just am trying to underscore the point that we really aren’t that bad. It’s not like anyone else would listen to me about it.

  “Anticlimactic,” Declan scolded.

  I looked at the rest of their group and offered blank, dark expressions. “Anyone else have questions about my sex life?”

  I didn’t add the much needed “lack-thereof” descriptor. Kept that disappointing tidbit to myself.

  Everyone shook their head and I smiled. “Good. Now, get the fuck out of here.”