Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 4

Sahvrin took the couch to get some sleep so he wouldn’t be useless. When he woke and looked over the couch at his bed, he found it empty. Sudden panic hit him, and he shot up, hurrying to the bathroom. He knocked on the door. “Beth?”

He looked around when he got no answer and hurried to the front door. “Mon Dieu!” he said at seeing her sitting at the end of the pier. But she was in a yellow dress, and he wondered if he was dreaming or seeing a vision. “Ma Petite, are you okay?” he called as he went.

She turned only her profile from where she sat and nodded before staring out again. He lowered next to her in open wonder and worry. “You had a bad dream?”

She looked over at him and shook her head. “I actually feel a lot better,” she said, sounding relieved. “Wanted to get fresh air. Guess your tea is working. And food.”

“Ahhh, mercie Dieu,” he said in relief, still wanting to touch her to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He remembered his Mah-Mah brought clothes and let out a breath. “You changed.”

She looked down. “I found the clothes your mom brought. Love this dress.”

“I thought you were an angel,” he said, seeing she might be worried over what he thought. The risky comment paid off with her genuine laugh. He looked out across the cove, realizing it was the afternoon. “Mon Dieu, I overslept.”

“You needed it,” she said, her concern coming through. “How long have you lived out here? I have never seen a more beautiful place. It’s like another world.”

He regarded the look on her battered face and the sincerity in her voice as she studied his paradise. “All my life, Ma Petite,” he said, looking out where the sun lit up the water beyond his little cove. “Glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she said. “So different from where I live.”

He looked at her, remembering. “Ah yes, you are an ice princess if I recall correctly.”

“You remembered,” she said, smiling a little, like that made her happy. “Lots of cold and snow.”

“Mon Dieu, I would not survive.”

She gave a small grin and brought her finger to the split in her lip.

“I put alligator grease on your cuts while you slept, I hope it’s okay.” She turned curious eyes and he laughed. “I tease, Ma Petite. It’s just herbs and oils Mah-Mah left.”

She grew serious. “She came,” she said. “Thought I dreamed it.”

“I asked her to come look at you. Seemed good for a woman to do this.”

She regarded him only a second. “That was thoughtful. Thank you.” She added a small smile. “I thought your Mah-Mah was an angel, and I was dying. She’s very kind and gentle and beautiful. Like you.” He fought not to laugh at her words and now distress. “Kind like you, I meant. And gentle. Not that you’re not…handsome…”

He let out his laugh now. “Ma Petite, you are digging yourself into a grave with this.”

“I am,” she gasped, seeming glad he wasn’t bothered.

And he wasn’t, at least not like she probably thought. He’d never met a person like her and was more fascinated with that difference than anything.

She touched her lip with her finger, casting shy glances toward him. “That’s why it’s so much better?”

“My great ma-ma’s recipe. For sure, good stuff.”

“I want to repay you for all your help.”

“Repay? Mon Dieu, that is not how it works.”

She regarded him, appearing confused. “Then… how does it work so I can repay you?”

He couldn’t stop his laugh at her sincerity. “You do not repay something like this,” he said, wondering over the customs where she came from. “Do you expect payment for saving a person’s life where you come from, Ma Petite?”

The sharp look she gave him reminded him of the woman with that pride and spirit he’d ran head into that night. “No, of course not. I guess repay was a poor choice of words. How do I…do something nice to say thank you?”

“I didn’t mean to imply anything bad on your part,” he assured with a smile, liking that fight in her. “I know customs can be different.” He gestured with an arm around them. “Breathe the fresh air in my paradise is a nice gift to me?” He studied her a moment. “You are repaying me every second you draw breath. Now, I’m rich.”

She lowered her head, and he noticed the difference in her hair then. “You have so much hair, Ma Petite, how do you manage?”

The worried look she gave made him laugh.

“I mean it gets everywhere when you try to…live and such?” he explained. She looked very different with her hair clean. Nothing child-like about it on her.

“I usually wear it up in some way. Or braided.”

“Really,” he said, surprised. “In the North Pole, I think you would want to let that beautiful fur cover you.”

She laughed and he pointed at her. “See, Ma Petite? You give me more payments with your joy.”

She shook her lowered head and looked out over the water. “You are too kind Sahvrin.”

“When I’m not being a prick,” he agreed, casting a look at her, needing to see what she thought of that.

She might have smiled before muttering, “And a Bishop prick at that.”

Laughter ripped out of him at that priceless comment. “Mon Dieu, you are more right than you know.”

She eyed him, smiling with a shy look. “I thought of all the people to approach, you seemed the safest since you were dressed so nice.”

He considered how to tell her the truth without scaring her. “I’m not bad. Not in the way you might think.”

“Oh really,” she said, smiling. “How are you bad?”

Her disbelieving tone and look had him ready to repent of all his sins just to make her world as pure as she saw it. “I’m only bad to bad people,” he said, feeling like he’d just dirtied her with the confession.

“So, you’re a mean bishop who does bad things to bad people.”

He stared at the water below their feet, not able to look at her. “Something like that, yes.”

“And you’re mean to stupid women,” she added.

Her words clobbered him. “Mon Dieu, you gut me.”

“What? No,” she cried. “I’m…I was teasing, I know you were angry because of how foolish I was. You were right to be, and I just wished I had understood that and...taken more precaution.”

“I shouldn’t have left you alone, Ma Petite,” he said, forcing the words past the self-loathe in his chest. “What I did was unforgivable.”

“Oh my God, no, please, you can’t do that, you can’t blame yourself for my stupidity.”

“You were innocent and na?ve.” And sweet and kind.

“I’m twenty-four!” she cried. “I should have had more sense, don’t you dare say otherwise. And fine, you could’ve been nicer and made it harder for them to…do what they did but that doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have at the end of the night when you were gone.”

He knew this was true but… “My anger and reckless decision increased the odds.”

They sat quiet for several moments and she sighed. “Fine, you’re part to blame, is that what you want?”

“No. It’s just what it is,” he said firmly.

“Then you’ll have to find ways to make it up to me, I guess. A year of private fishing lessons? Cooking lessons!” she shot out, pointing at him with a smile that stole his breath.

“I would do that for free, Ma Petite,” he said grinning out at the water.

“Oh, what a discount,” she said, pretending to write on her palm. “The very gallant Sahvrin Bishop—not the Mean Mr. Bishop—agrees to teach Beth how to fish and cook for a year.” She held her hand out to him. “Sign on the dotted line.”

He grinned and took her hand in his, looking at how small it was then traced the lifeline in her palm.

“That’s a strange signature,” she said, the delicate softness in her voice making him release her.

“I was measuring your lifeline,” he said, angling a look at her. “Can’t have you dying before the year is up.”

Her huge laugh shattered the darkness enveloping him, making it suddenly easier to breathe. Mon Dieu, the power this woman had.

“Sahvrin Bishop is also a comedian,” she said finally.

He smiled and shook his head.

“What? You are.”

“I like the way you say my name.”

“Oh?” She grew worried and studious. “How do you say it, I want to say it right.”

He had to look at her, amazed with her need to care so much about a thing. “I just said I like the way you say it, Ma Petite. Tell me what you do in North Dakota.”

She let the name issue go. “Well...I just only graduated college a couple of months ago, so, everything was school until recently.”

He nodded, remembering about her college. “What did Ma Petite go to school to learn?”

“I…started out with one major then switched halfway through to digital mapping.”

Digital mapping? How interesting. “I have never heard of this.”

She explained to him everything, and he nodded in approval at seeing her passion. “You love maps, this surprises me.”

She smiled and nodded. “Why does it surprise you?”

He shrugged, looking out onto the water. “I guess I imagined it something women would not be interested in. But I know the world is different than it used to be.” He angled his head at her. “I think it’s good you learn anything you set your heart on to learn.” He wondered then. “Why did you change your first major halfway through?”

“Ah, yes,” she began, gathering her hair in both hands and twisting it into a thick rope. Her slow movements reminded him she was hurting and bravely pushing through the pain. “I started out majoring to be a therapist.” She gave a little half-laugh, and her blush showed through her battered cheeks. “The story is kind of embarrassing.”

Sahvrin was immediately curious and tsked three times. “I am very nosy Ma Petite. I’m afraid I must know this.”

He smiled that she knew he joked and even laughed at him. “Fine, I was old fashioned. My mother and my father were…not so happily married, and growing up, when I figured that out, I decided as a young girl I wanted to help them.”

Sahvrin was beginning to wonder if she was an angel. “Why would you be embarrassed about wanting to do such an angelic thing, Ma Petite? And what made you change your mind?”

“My mother died two years into my studies, and it suddenly felt pointless, I guess.”

“Ahhh, Ma Petite,” he whispered, so sad for her. “But why on earth does this embarrass you?”

“Ah, yes,” she said, indicating there was more to the story that she didn’t want to tell.

“You hold back information. Not nice to do with nosy people.”

Her laugh was worth his antics as he waited for the missing details. “Well…the embarrassing part is what kind of therapist I decided to become.”

He raised his brows with that, waiting. “You want me to beg for this information?”

“Uuugh, no, I don’t. It was stupid. Is stupid. I was glad to switch and that’s enough information, really. As you have said to me before, it’s not important.”

It was his turn to laugh and tsk again. “But I am nosy, Ma Petite,” he reminded her. “You are not.”

“Nooo, I’m nosy too,” she assured with a light laugh. “I just know how to respect people’s privacy when I see they want me to.”

“Really,” he said, tickled with her insult while placing a hand on his chest. “See, I have no respect for such things.”

“Now is a good time to learn,” she laughed, nodding.

He looked out at the water, perplexed now. “I am trying to understand what sort of therapist would warrant such shame.” He looked at her. “Shall I guess?”

“Sexual therapist. Okay?”

Mon Dieu.

“See what your nosy got you? I tried to spare you.”

“You did, yes. But now this information brings more questions.”

“What made me choose that, I know,” she mumbled without looking at him. “Because I learned that particular thing is usually at the bottom of all marriage problems, or somehow connected. And I was serious about helping them and wanted to choose correctly.”

Thatparticular thing. He smiled, liking that she didn’t want to say it. “And helping yourself, yes? Because we are products of our parents?”

“Yes, for myself,” she said, like the residual benefit was welcomed. “I certainly do not want to become like them or end up like them.”

“Mon Dieu, how bad was it? Lots of fighting?”

“Oh, not at all,” she said, staring into the water near their feet. “They were the most…civilized people you’d ever met. They could have easily been brother and sister and you wouldn’t have known otherwise.”

“Ahhh, no la-passion?”

She shook her head. “Not a drop. No hugging, no touching—other than the occasional peck on the forehead by my father.”

“Mon Dieu, like a child?”

She gave a humorless laugh and nodded. “Like a child. Although he never kissed me that way. So, more like a stepchild.”

This news added to the anguish he already had with her. “He never kissed you, Ma Petite? What about your other siblings?”

“I’m an only child,” she said seeming unaware how tragic these things were.

He redirected, curious. “And when did you figure this was not how marriage was supposed to be?”

“When I was thirteen. I had friends with parents who were in love.” She gave a deep sigh. “I knew right away when I saw it.” She swung her legs a little as she thought. “I realized I always knew. Deep inside, I knew something was missing. And when I saw the missing piece, I said there it is.”

“And you wanted to help them. Such a sucree fille.” She looked at him, cheeks flush with curious eyes. He realized they were gray, with flecks of dark blue. “A sweet daughter,” he translated. “And you are terrible at receiving compliments, Ma Petite.”

She nodded, not denying it. Such purity. How far did this purity go, he was very hungry to know. “So, your mother died before you could help?”

He watched her lowered profile lift and stare with that quiet strength he’d seen in her. She took in a huge breath.

“It’s okay, Ma Petite, I’m not really nosy, I was teasing. I can piss off.”

“No, it’s okay. I did help them, I think. Passively.” She offered him a small smile and coming from a face filled with cuts and bruises and tragic childhood, it made it that much more potent to him. “I dropped things I learned to my father and mother. They’d call to check on me, ask how my studies were going and I’d tell them all the amazing things I was learning.”

She looked at him, then at his smile. “What?”

“I like this. You are a sneaky snake and a harmless petite dove at once. And you seen a difference in them?”

She nodded, seeming sure. “I heard it, really. I never got a chance to see it. My mother died when she got pneumonia one winter while I was at college. I should have gone home to visit but I just didn’t realize how sick she was.”

The idea made him ill to imagine. “I am so sorry about this, Ma Petite.”

She gave him a small nod. “Thank you for that, Sahvrin.” She stared at him for many seconds. “I think you may be the nicest man I have ever met. I’m serious,” she cried lightly, seeing his need to beg to differ.

But he wouldn’t do anything but accept her beautiful gift without arguing.

“I have a question for you,” she said suddenly.

“Anything you want to know, Ma Petite.”

“I know your last name is Bishop, but…are you…like…a priest?”

He let his laughter go at that as she nodded with a smile. “I guess that’s a no.”

He finally angled his look at her, shaking his head. “I tell you I do bad things to bad people and yet you wonder if I’m a priest?“

“I honestly don’t think it’s so bad to do bad things to bad people. I mean, God did it.”

“Oh Ma Petite,” he muttered, shaking his head. “There is nothing godly about who I am and what I do. There is a fine line between a righteous judgment and revenge. God knows the exact sins of a man and I have to guess at those. I always assume the very worst even while knowing I will receive the same manner of judgment one day.”

The Twelve actually judged the guilty by a set code that involved rolling dice. But only members were allowed to know that even if he’d likely trust her with his soul.

He eyed her troubled look, suddenly unable to break free from her intense gaze. “Then you need to quit that.”

The soft words rode over his skin, making him smile. “That’s it?” he asked, amazed. “Just quit it?”

Her eyes roamed his face before giving a nod. “Yeah.”

She’d paused and thoroughly double checked her answer, further confirming his angelic suspicions. “Now I have a question for you.” He eyed her expectant gaze. “Are you…a nun by any chance?”

She gave another one of those dark shattering laughs and this time it was contagious. “A cherub perhaps?” he said, chuckling with how funny this was to her. “Ma Petite, so much laughter over these sincere questions. You meet a Biship who is La Captain Prick, and still, you are an angel to him?”

Her laughter subsided and he decided he had to know. “Tell me this. Do you have someone special waiting for you in North Dakota?”

She shook her head, carefully dabbing the happy tears from her bruised eyes. “No,” she said.

What a shock. And another tragedy. And yet not. “You are still very young. There’s time.”

“I’m not in a race about it. What about you?” she asked.

“Me?”

“You have someone special?”

“I do, yes. Gras Jean, my pet alligator is madly in love with me.” She erupted in more laughter. “Ma Petite, this is not meant to be a joke, I am serious.” More squeals of laughter. Such good medicine for her. “Truthfully, I choose not to date in my line of work.”

She sucked in a breath, giving a concerned look. “This is why you’re so grumpy,” she diagnosed, making him laugh.

“There isn’t a woman I know that would put up with the likes of me.” It was half true.

She gave a cute pfft sound. “Then you need to find other oceans to fish in.”

“Not worth the trouble,” he said, shaking his head.

She drew back a little, staring right at him. “You’re going to sit there and tell me you’re better off alone?”

He laughed heartily at that, nodding. “I have been alone, as you say, for fifteen years.”

Her jaw dropped with that. “Why?”

“Because of my line of work,” he reminded with a grin.

“So you can’t have a girlfriend and work?” she wondered, perplexed. “We’re made to be with a soul mate, you know” she added, sounding truly disturbed with his situation.

“A soul mate,” he said, regarding the setting sun. “If you say so.”

Her frustration came in a tiny huff. “I do,” she said, like she was trying to convince him.

“Ma Petite, I’m glad you think this. It’s a very good thing to think but it’s not for everybody. You understand?” And even though his celibacy was no longer required for him, old habits died good and hard in that department for him.

She’d turned away finally, the pout on her lips making him smile for some reason. “You are going to be angry if I don’t share this belief?”

“No, just…sad for you.”

“Mon Dieu, I saved an angel who won’t be happy until I have everything her heart desires? What if I’m not that kind of man, Ma Petite?”

“I don’t…care if you believe differently and I’m totally fine if you never have a girlfriend for the rest of your life.”

The anger in her mutter said otherwise and he really needed to change the subject while knowing what was likely in that pretty head of hers. If he’d ever be with a woman, it should never be an angel like her, but she would argue and say she was no such thing.

He focused on the ugly reality, namely the people he needed to hunt and kill slowly. “Can I ask you some serious questions, Ma Petite?”

She regarded him with that eager sincerity. “Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell you. I want to catch these people. Not for myself,” she said, somehow knowing the direction his thoughts had taken. “For those who didn’t escape or won’t escape. There were other girls with me that didn’t get away, you know.”

Fuck, that was bad. He gazed forward, thinking. Whoever abducted her would know all about who she was and where she lived by now. She couldn’t go back to the same place. Her father was not safe now, either. It was a sad thing to be thankful she had no siblings but in this case he was.

“I need names, Ma Petite.” He glanced at her. “Any name you might remember would help.”

“I remember three names.” She focused a moment then gave, “David… Blanchard… and Brisco. I don’t know if it’s first or last names. And I can probably draw you somewhat of a map of where they kept me.” She looked at him. “If you think it would help.”

Sahvrin was desperate to know who these names were but came up with nothing. “How long did they have you?”

“Two days. And I really need to call my father.”

“You understand that these people know who you are and where you are from. This means they know where your father and any other family is.”

The look she gave said she’d already thought the same thing. “I know. I need to warn him.”

“They’re already looking to see what they can find out.”

“Who is?”

“Like-minded people in the business I work for is looking, Ma Petite. This is not the first time we’ve dealt with this evil and we take it very seriously. We will find out everything that we can. Our men are preparing to hunt these demons. We will find who did this, I promise you. I am meeting my father and brothers this evening. You will give me your father’s name and I will call him personally.”

She suddenly moved to stand, a painful feat judging by her stifled groans. He stood too, watching the panic in her face. “I need to talk to him.”

“Listen to me,” he said, holding her shoulders carefully. “You have to stay here where it’s safest. I will not risk you being seen.” Or possibly calling her father after they got to him and set him up as bait. “Trust me, please.”

She suddenly appeared dizzy, and he stepped into her, holding her steady. At feeling her sag, he lifted her in his arms and made his way into the house with her, glad she didn’t protest. Laying her in his bed, he said, “You need more rest, you’re still too injured for all of this.”

She pulled his arm when he straightened. “Please don’t leave yet. I don’t want to be alone.”

He sat on the bed next to her and smoothed the hairline along her forehead, something he needed as much as she did. “Get some rest, Ma Petite.”

“Please lay with me,” she mumbled, tugging his arm.

Mon Dieu, he really shouldn’t.

Until she fell asleep.

He lay down, keeping plenty of distance between them. That plan fell apart when she scooted herself closer and pulled his arm over her shoulder and clutched it tight. His plan to get up when she drifted off also fell apart when he slept too.