Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 5

At the main house, Lesion was faced with a simple and yet huge dilemma. Was he to hold her hand? It felt right to do, even necessary, but with her idea to not give him anything to put in his hands and devour with his mouth, he wasn’t sure.

“Tully,” he said when he helped her onto the dock. “I know you’re giving me time to…sort through my stupidity and said you would help me by not allowing me to touch what I might devour, but…” he glanced at the main house, then locked his gaze on hers. “I don’t want another man thinking you’re available.”

Her brows rose. “I can tell them I’m not if I see the need to?”

He considered that, followed by the vision of Patches or Bacon getting chatty with her. “I don’t want it to get that far,” he said, finding it hard to say, much less imagine.

“Are you being…possessive?” she wondered with a soft smile.

He studied her face as the possessive term toyed with his logic. Possessive meant not wanting to share and, in that sense…. “Very,” he decided to say, wanting to be transparent with her.

She smiled more. “I don’t wish you to touch me still.”

He regarded the mischief in her eyes. “This is not a game to me,” he warned, keeping his words careful, getting more of a smile from her.

“I know,” she said simply, then turned and headed up the pier like she owned the whole world.

“Madam Hag,” he muttered, quickly following her. This was on her for leaving him a complete moron in these things. She should have insisted, like she did with the putrid beets he detested eating as a boy.

He caught up to her and kept a close, non-touching distance, noticing the angelic white dress she wore. Her hair was still in a single, now messy braid, but as she suddenly darted ahead and tossed a smile over her shoulder, she looked like an angel that had a busy day bringing sunshine and joy to all those who were worthy to receive it. He had been deserving until he’d opened his stupid mouth about arrangements. Who else would be found worthy while he figured out if he was in love or even capable of it?

Lesion realized the party with the many women was no longer in progress but they seemed to all still be there. He caught up to Tully and directed her toward Beth near Eveque next to the wrap around porch. “Let me introduce you to The Belle Eveque.”

“The what?” she whispered.

“It means The Beautiful Bishop, she’s the…soon to be wife of our Eveque.”

“Your Eveque?”

“He’s the leader of The Twelve,” he reminded. “The authorities that govern the swamps.”

“Like a King and Queen?”

Well… “Something like that,” he murmured.

“So romantic!”

Romantic. He added the term to the mess he was in, sure it wasn’t a neurological tic dating back to Rome. He glanced around and found Bacon headed their way with Patches and Bullets.

“Leezayon!” Bullets called as they all arrived at the Eveque and his fiancé at the same time.

Beth came forward with a smile at seeing them. “Is this Tully?” she asked, embracing her like family.

“I am,” Tully answered before Lesion could. “Lesion told me you’re the Queen of the swamp!”

Beth’s eyes got wide with a laugh and Lesion couldn’t find a way to clarify without sounding guilty of something.

“She is,” Bishop assured.

“And you’re the King, he tells me.” She held out her hand and Bishop shook it, appearing briefly scattered at the gesture, making him sure it was wrong as wrong could be.

There was a round of big laughs but Lesion couldn’t remember what might be funny.

“I know you!” Tully said, smiling at Patches. “We met at Lesions.”

“It’s nice to see you again Tully,” he said, while Lesion watched where his eyes went. They met Lesion’s as he shook Tully’s hand and he didn’t appreciate the twinkle in it. Too much like Tully’s.

“Are you here to sign up for the available maidens?” Bullets asked, eyeing her like a food he was ready to eat in that second while Lesion realized the available issue had come quickly.

“Oh, what is that?” Tully wondered, as the Belle Eveque shot Lesion a glance.

“Well,” Belle Eveque explained. “It was voted that The Twelve would find wives and we’re planning to invite all the eligible women to join our selection process.”

“Oh,” Tully said, panic hitting Lesion at hearing her confusion. She was no doubt wondering why he had a problem choosing her if he’d agreed to marrying. Mother-of-fucking-nature, he was burying himself. “That sounds… fun!” Tully’s smile beamed, but the pain she hid felt like acid in his gut. “How do you play?”

“Well…” Another glance at Lesion. “You just have to…not be married or in a relationship,” she said, smiling.

“Oh!” Tully cried. “Well, I’m not taken! Lesion wants me but is still deciding if it’s the forever kind of want. He’s a scientist and doesn’t know a lot about the love stuff.”

Lesion found himself caught in another brand-new urge he’d never had before. To fucking disappear.

“Well, then, sign her up!” Patches cried. “Let The Twelve fight over her. Or the eleven since Leezyon has something wrong up here.” He tapped his temple, setting off another round of laughs from his brothers.

“More like nine,” Bullets said. “Our Eveque and The Seer are a-goners.”

Lesion met Tully’s sparkling gaze, finding way more than mischief in it. She was pissed-hurt and ready to retaliate. “Yes, sign her up,” Lesion agreed. “Let all the devil’s fight for the angel. Last man not crippled and blinded by venom wins.”

While the laughs roared, Nitro came up from behind with, “Well, looks like there’s a lot more than one angel here. He joined their circle of hell, standing on Tully’s right while scouring the female buffet all around before his eyes returned to her. They moved down then back up. “Though none as beautiful as you.”

“I’m Tully,” she announced with her exuberant joy, making Lesion’s muscles lock up at the hint of more touching. She held out her hand. “I’m Lesion’s friend. Are you one of The Twelve?”

Nitro glanced at Lesion for a couple of seconds before grinning at her. “I sure am.” He shook her hand and Lesion was back in the fucking Gauntlet Trials with these fucks making it their single goal to stop him from succeeding at something. Did he want her as much as he’d wanted to be in The Twelve? Judging by the murder in his blood, maybe more so. And judging by all their jubilant grins, they still prided themselves on striking while you bled out after you fell into one of their clever traps.

“And Bacon is?” she asked, adding more fire to Lesion’s blood.

“I sure am,” he said, bravely joining Nitro’s side.

“So who all are The Twelve? Are they all here?”

Seeing an escape opportunity, he hooked his arm in hers. “Let me introduce you. Be right back, swamp skeletons.”

Their laugh followed them as Lesion found Traps, Spar and Hurricane. Tully pulled from his arm as she announced herself with handshake out and ready. “I’m Tully. Are you also part of The Twelve? I’m signing up as an eligible maiden.”

Watching them trip over themselves to shake her hand would’ve been comical if he wasn’t premeditating their murder. His art of war instincts finally kicked in when he realized she was fighting him with her games. She asked him not to touch her while he figured things out. Fair. But provoking him like this meant she was a lot smarter than she let on, surely more than he was which made her game foolish.

“If you don’t mind, brothers, you can keep her company while I check in with My Eveque.”

He turned before she could even get a look in and headed back to the porch. He saw The Seer and Spook talking to his Eveque right as the Belle Eveque spotted him and hurried to meet him. “What on earth is going on, why is she acting like you’re not together?”

“She’s…” Lesion struggled to organize the wreck of words in his head.

“Angry?” the Belle Eveque helped.

“And hurt,” he added, looking far enough left that he could see her white dress in his peripheral vision.

“Bishop told me,” she whispered.

Now he looked at her.

“Would you like some advice?” she wondered, empathy pinching her forehead.

“I’d sell unspeakable things for it,” he admitted as she glanced around him.

“Okay so…you mentioned an arrangement with her. She got offended?”

“More like had an emotional break down,” he recalled.

She nodded, appearing pained. “It’s a very sensitive thing,” she explained.

“How?” he asked, starved for any kind of facts.

“Well, what she gave you is…it’s similar to…” She angled her head, eying him. “I’m trying to find scientific constructs you can understand.”

“Thank you,” he thought to say, practically holding his breath as she returned to finding her words.

“Something you can physically live without but makes you wish you couldn’t because of how painful it is?”

He searched for such an experience. That run in he had with a water moccasin had made him wish he was dead. He struggled to link it to this. “She’s in physical pain?”

“It is very physical yes, but it’s…more a mental anguish and emotional that is so strong it affects the physical. Like a fear that causes the muscles to freeze up, or a mental craving that causes you to act on it, secure whatever it is you are mentally crazing over.”

He immediately thought of his mapping obsession. That was surely a mental craving that reached muscle and bones to a point of torment at times. He quickly swapped the subjects with emotional craving to physical and his brain created a match. “I understand,” he whispered. “I have this relationship with my urges to map things. It drives me.”

She nodded with a smile. “And when you feed those needs, you get fulfillment and peace and…not sure what else it is for you, and if you don’t feed it, you get…whatever it is you get. The same obsession you have for studying things happens but with another human.”

He realized. “I have an obsession for two things. Having her and having her to study. But the kind of studying I want to do is…the kind that requires a special arrangement and I understand that, I’m…struggling to figure out what sort of arrangement that is.”

“Well,” she whispered, glancing around him before getting serious. “It’s called marriage but clearly there’s a disconnect for you with this…term so maybe if you explain to me what marriage means to you, we can figure out a solution.”

“It means forever and it means you have to love each other enough to sustain that. I love her enough to sustain it today but it’s the tomorrow’s I can’t promise. I don’t live beyond today because I don’t know if I’ll even be here tomorrow. Madam Hag trained me this way,” he explained. “And I find it a very logical way to live. Even if I wanted to change that, I don’t know how to.”

“And do you want to give her every bit of yourself? Today?”

“Every single drop and bit,” he assured.

“So…you can commit to a forever arrangement for a day.” She put her finger at her mouth, thinking on the absurdity of the problem. She eyed him then. “So… when you committed to being a member of The Twelve, did you commit for only a day?”

The loophole jumped into his brain and began to sizzle. “No, I committed indefinitely.”

“So…you seem to be capable of visualizing open-ended commitments under certain circumstances. Perhaps it’s…the principal you’re committing to, rather than the people involved?”

He thought about it. “It’s both,” he realized.

She nodded. “Can you…perhaps include Tully and you into this commitment concept. Already, she would technically fall under your services with The Twelve. You’d just be adding an addendum to the commitment. That yours and hers involves a second layer where she becomes a partner with you in this commitment to The Twelve, serving with you as…your apprentice and partner…or subject when you need. Basically, Lesion…” she said, requiring him to lean in to hear. “You’re committing to doing your best with those things that exist in you. And that whatever unforeseen changes life brings, you will continue being the scientist that you are and applying everything you can to ensuring you are able to sustain your daily commitment. You’re committing as much as you can commit, in the capacity that you can and truly, this is all any of us can ever do.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded with the realization. She’d just solved the impossible problem in a single, short conversation.

“Oh, she’s coming,” she whispered. “As Belle Eveque, allow me to help with this negotiation?”

“Please,” he gushed, still in a state of shock and marvel.

“Tully!” The Belle Eveque hurried forward and hooked her arm in hers, stopping next to Lesion. “I was having a conversation with Lesion and wanted to ask your permission to speak to you both privately.”

“About what?” Tully wondered, guarded.

“About all the amazing plans for the eligible maidens and The Twelve. I need all the female help I can get!”

“I would love to!” Tully gushed, adding more awe for the Belle Eveque.

“I’ll show you the Swamp Dragons while we’re at it!” She tossed an afterthought glance at Lesion. “You coming?”

Coming? He was having a fucking mental orgasm. “Right behind you.”