Chapter 2

Liz's feet hit the pavement hard as she ran, earphones stuck in her ears, trying to block out the world around her. Running was her thing. It cleared her mind and allowed her to think. Running was her alone time.

It had been a week since Gabby had dragged her out into the middle of the old cemetery and shown her something that should've been impossible. Her best friend was a witch. A real live witch! She would've said stranger things had happened, but that was as strange as it got. Not even a ten miler could help her work out that one.

She was a block from her apartment when she slowed to a jog, rounding the corner and smacked right into a brick wall. At least that's what it felt like as she stumbled back a step, her earphones falling out. A pair of strong hands grasped her shoulders and she realized she'd been so distracted, she'd smacked right into a man walking the other direction.

“Whoa,” the guy said, holding her steady. “Careful there.”

Looking up, her gaze met the most swoon worthy set of green eyes she'd ever seen in her entire life.

“Are you okay?” the guy asked, a frown creasing his forehead. He looked about her age, a head taller.

“Um, yeah,” she muttered, looking away, realizing she'd been staring at him like some kind of idiot. He was hot. Like, there were hot guys and then there were hot guys. He was in the latter category. Amazing eyes, short brown hair, chiseled jawline, hard chest… Definitely hot.

Why the hell did she have to be all sweating and gross in her running gear right now? It was like the universe had conspired against her. The guy was still looking at her, a grin pulling at his lips. Shit, she was staring again.

“Are you sure you're okay?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah. I'm fine,” she retorted, beginning to get irritated. “You just surprised me.”

“Sorry 'bout that.” He shuffled from foot to foot before saying, “I'm Sam.”

“Liz.”

“I just moved here with my brother. Nice place.”

“Why would you want to move here?” She was trying her best to get out.

Sam laughed at her reaction and ran a hand through his hair. “It's as good a place as any. Helps we own a house here.”

He had money and was hot. Nice combination. “You own a house?”

“Yeah,” he said like it was the most normal thing in the world - a guy that didn't look a day older than twenty owning a house. “The plantation manor over by the lake.”

“The Degaud manor?” Her mouth almost dropped open. Nobody had lived there since the Civil War - since the alleged massacre.

“Yeah. I know what you locals think of the place, that's it's haunted. But I haven't seen a ghost yet.” He gave her a wink that almost melted her insides.

“But nobody's been in there since…”

“The Civil War.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it's our families ancestral home, so you know.”

“You're a Degaud?” she asked, letting her surprise show.

Sam nodded slowly, cocking his head to the side.

“It's just,” Liz began, “there hasn't been any Degaud's around here since the place was abandoned.”

“Well, some are still alive and kicking,” he said with a laugh. “Where are you going to? Liz…”

“Evans.” She gestured to her clothes and pointed down the street. “I'm going home to change. Then I'm going to work.”

He looked her over, letting his gaze drag slowly over her body and despite herself, she shivered. “Well, I won't keep you. It was nice meeting you, Liz. I'm sure we'll run into each other at some stage.”

As he stepped around her and continued down the sidewalk, she called out after him, “Nice meeting you, too.”

When he glanced back and caught her checking out the rear view, she turned away, her face beginning to flush. It had been a crazy week. First Gabby and her amazing witch abilities and now a hot guy to drool over…and he was a Degaud no less. A Degaud with a brother. Damn, she was in trouble.

If there was one thing Zac was good at, it was sniffing out the closest bar.

The only place that seemed to exist in a twenty-mile radius was a hole called Max's. It seemed to be part TGI Friday's mixed with a dose of rough biker bar. But it was the South after all. If it wasn't mental and off the wall, then it didn't belong.

Setting himself up at one end of the bar, he settled in for the long haul. A glass of scotch wasn't anywhere near adequate, so he bought the bottle and kept topping up when it got low. Never mind that it was only four pm and not even dinnertime. Zac drank enough booze to send any normal human to hospital ten times over, but it never seemed to be enough. Control was something that was constantly out of his grasp...and he wasn't talking about the drinking. The thing about being a vampire who was turned against his will was that he was never taught or never learned when to start or stop.

He died in the Civil War like some kind of cliché, was turned when he was as good as dead and taught to hunt and kill the people he used to share DNA with. And then there was Sam. It was his fault that his little brother was turned and did he pay for it every fucking day. It took every ounce of his will power not to chow down on the population of Ashburton, the town they once called home. The town that they wanted to call home again.

Scratch that. The town Sam wanted to become human in again and as usual, he was along for the ride. Did he want the same thing? He wasn't human anymore. Hadn't been for a very long time.

Zac Degaud was the definition of the word monster.

He caught movement out the corner of his eye as someone came up to the bar near where he'd set up residence. He straightened up when he got a whiff of something tasty. Something female and tasty.

“What'll it be, Liz?” the bartender asked.

“Gimme a plate of fries and a jug of beer.”

“Comin' right up.”

Zac eyed the girl out the corner of his eye as she waited for her order, and as expected, she glanced his way, giving him the once over. She wore those little denim shorty shorts that women were so fond of this decade and a cream blouse. When her gaze met his, he found himself staring. There were blue eyes, then there were hers.

“Hey, I'm sorry to stare,” she began, turning to face him, “but you kinda look familiar.”

“I don't think so,” he said with a smirk, swiveling the stool around to face her. Familiar or hot? ”I just moved here with my brother.”

“Brother?”

“Sam, the high and mighty. Maybe you've seen his big head.”

“Oh, Sam? Yes, I've met him then,” she exclaimed. “This morning.”

Zac was tall and lean with a head of messy brown hair. Sam was a lot more heavy set than he was, his hair lighter, but they shared the same green eyes and bone structure. Simple way of putting it, they looked like brothers.

“Really?” he asked. It wasn't like Sam to smell out a pretty girl day two, but then again...

“I didn't know there were any Degaud's left. I mean, any that were related to the founding family.”

“Well, there's two of us.” He took another mouthful of scotch to soothe the burning that was rising in his throat.

“I'm Liz,” she declared, holding her hand out.

Zac let his gaze drop and wondered if he should touch her. That would be dangerous, considering he was already wondering what her blood tasted like. It was getting to the point of awkward, so he held his breath and took her hand.

“Zac Degaud. Older brother. Bad boy.”

“Oh, so you're one of those.” She laughed as he held her hand for a moment too long.

“This is your first warning,” he said, his lips curving into a lopsided grin.

Pulling her hand away, Liz laughed, shaking her head, but he knew different. Her heart had sped up slightly and his already massive ego inflated to bursting point.

The bartender came back at that moment, interrupting their interlude and put her order on the bar in front of them.

“Well, I'll see you later.” She slid off the stool, taking her plate of fries and jug of beer and walking across the room just so. Damn.

“Well, I can see you're working fast as per usual.”

Zac looked up and found Sam sliding into the stool on his other side and shrugged. “A bar and a pretty girl. You know what I'm like.”

Sam glared at him. “She-”

“Smells nice?” Zac asked with a grin.

“Get lost.”

“Helps she's pretty, too.”

“Don't you dare touch her Zac, or I'll-

Turning in his seat, Zac narrowed his eyes in warning. “Or you'll what?”

Sam let out a sharp sigh. “Just don't cause any trouble. I want to settle here for a while. Don't ruin it before its even begun.”

“Let me guess.” Zac tapped his temple, pretending to think. “You saw her first, so this is your way of saying hands off? You know you can just say hands off, right?”

“I'm getting some contractors out at the manor tomorrow, so keep clear, okay?”

“Subtle change of topic, Samuel.”

Sam's jaw tensed, but he didn't rise to the bait. “It's the difference between no hot water and electricity, so just play along.”

Zac shrugged and turned back to his scotch.

“I'm going home...and Zac?”

When he didn't reply, his little brother shoved his shoulder. “What?”

“No eating the locals.”

Before he could retort, Sam was striding across the bar, giving a little wave to Liz as he went. Since when had his little brother become his parent? Shit.

That's when he realized Liz wasn't alone. Probably served him right, fixating on the first pretty girl to cross his path. He watched that newbie witch, Gabby, talking with her and rolled his eyes. Tabitha was friends with the girl? Figured.

When the witch turned and caught his eye, she scowled. Giving her a little wave, she rolled her eyes and turned back to Liz. Zac cast his hearing out, already knowing exactly what they were talking about and groaned.

“I'll be right back,” Gabby was saying and a moment later, he felt her approaching. This place was suddenly extremely aggravating.

“Stay away from her,” Gabby hissed in his ear.

Zac took another mouthful of his scotch before raising an eyebrow at her. “Or you'll make my head explode?”

“I'll do more than that.”

“I can smell a bluff a mile off, Tabitha, so save yourself the hassle and go back to the minor leagues. Something tells me you can't cut it in the majors.”

“Eat shit.”

“Eat shit? Eat shit?” He laughed, slapping his had on top of the bar. “Kids these days.”

“You keep your filthy fangs to yourself, Zac Degaud, or I'll rip them out myself.”

Downing the rest of his drink, he got up from his stool and leaned in close to the witch's ear and whispered, “Try me, Glinda.”

He felt the telltale hum in the air that signaled the newbie witch was about to get all voodoo on his ass.

Eyeing her he said, “Gabrielle Marie Cohen. Twenty years old. Works as a clerk over at the real estate agency across the square. Lives at the top of that eyesore of an apartment block on Sycamore. Crazy absentee grandmother, who I'm guessing was a witch and had her secret exposed. Parents Judith and Thomas. Mommy is a teacher at Ashburton Primary. Daddy dearest is a lawyer at Everton and Cootes Legal in Baton Rouge. They live over on Everton Street, right?”

“Asshole.”

“Meh,” he said with a shrug. “It's called insurance, sweetheart. You make my head pop, I make someone else's pop right off.”

“Leave Liz alone.”

“Look at you getting all territorial and foamy at the mouth.”

“Fuck you, Zac.”

“No thanks, brunettes aren't my type.”

“She doesn't know what you are and it's staying that way. You don't touch her, you don't even look at her, understand?”

“I don't think you understand what a threat entails, little witch.”

“I'm calling your bluff.” Gabby crossed her arms over her chest.

“I love a dare,” he snarled. “Push too far, Gabby and I'll push back ten times as hard. You really want to play this game?”

“The next time you go near Liz, we'll see who's really bluffing then, won't we?”

Zac's lips curved into a wicked grin as his blood began to quicken. He loved living life on the edge. A newbie witch versus a one hundred and seventy year old vampire with a blonde beauty as the prize.

“Bring it on, Tabitha. Bring. It. On.”