Bayou Bishops Box Set: Books 1-12

CHAPTER 8

Seer’s eyes opened and he sat up, looking around at the trees all around. He’d taken a walk to clear his head then sat a spell and dozed. Something woke him. He pulled his phone out and looked at his messages.

Eveque: Don’t forget about 8-Bit as soon as you can.

Shit. And the brother he was supposed to go see. He found 8-Bit’s number and pressed it, making his way to his feet, aching from the past days of non-stop spiritual warfare. He made his way back to his place, ready to touch and feel Cherie.

“Seer.”

Samuel paused at hearing 8-Bit’s voice as his gifts updated him on his past troubles. “It’s been a while. I hear you need me to come and see something. Was hoping to do that now if we can. I have a war needing waging sooner rather than later.”

“Anything I can help with?”

His eagerness was a good sign. He’d need that fight for what he sensed in him. “I have what I need at this time. But I’ll surely let you know if your technological genius becomes necessary.”

“Glad everything worked out with your father.”

Seer paused at the tug in his spirit. “When can we meet? Bring your girl with you. I need to see her too.”

“She was planning on coming.”

“Good. You wanna rendezvous at the Basilique?”

“Sounds good. See you in an hour?”

He nodded. “That you will.”

He stared at his phone after hanging up then glanced around at the peaceful fa?ade hiding the dark cloud encroaching their entire swamp.

He hurried back spotting Cherie on the porch, sweeping with a warrior’s vigor, determined to purify and protect their sanctuary however she could. She’d felt helpless while he sat with his father, he knew. But after learning she was one of his spirit warriors, he was thrilled to have her as his right hand in his Spirit Hatch. He’d prayed for more people, and they’d been standing right among them the entire time. Made him wonder who else they had hiding in plain sight.

The second her gaze found him, she paused, and he lit up like a power plant. He’d worried his flesh would weaken his spirit, but the opposite seemed to happen with her, and God was he grateful since he couldn’t deny the hungers she set anytime he laid eyes on her. She was literal food in so many ways and that he could feast to his heart’s content without jeopardizing anything was the greatest gift.

His need flared when she dropped her broom and hurried to meet him. She ran the last few feet and caught him in a tight hug. “Ma Cherie,” he gushed, hugging her back tight and petting her. “You okay?”

“I’m just worried about you,” she wept in his chest. “All I can do is clean and pray and feel useless.”

He took her face and held it tight. “Let your husband help with that.” He devoured her mouth, bringing those sounds he’d been craving to hear. He moved along her jaw, then neck. “I have you,” he whispered, sucking with a lustful intent that lit her up.

By the time they made it inside, a frantic clothing war broke out, their ragged, hot breaths communicating what was coming. He fell with her on the bed, hiking her leg up as he did. He entered her and her sharp cry brought a hurricane of desire that crushed their need. She called for her own devastation with non-stop “fuck me, fuck me” and he answered with a brutal passion. Her screams of pleasure crashed into his spirit, and he absorbed all of it, feeling it form an impenetrable shield in them. Fuck, his life of celibacy had hidden this powerful dynamic from him but now that he knew, he would without a doubt utilize every glorious bit of that gift.

Seer spent fifteen minutes kissing her forehead as the remnants of what passed between them dwindled to labored breaths filled with moans of awe and contentment.

“You have to go, don’t you,” she murmured.

He stroked his fingers along her hair line. “I do.”

“And I have to stay here.”

Hearing the sadness in her tone, he said, “I need to tell you something.”

She lifted up, staring down in his face, worry lining her caramel brow.

“When I spoke to Mon Piere, he said I wasn’t alone in preventing the darkness from taking him. He said there was a web of light between you and me. You were my strength, Cherie while I fought. So…do not think you are useless ever again.” He angled his head at her, loving the look of devotion on her face. “Will you serve as my right hand in the Spirit Hatch?”

Tears fell and she nodded, pressing kisses on his mouth around gasps. “Are you stupid? Of course I’m yours however you need me.”

He grinned and pulled her on top of him, watching desire melt her face at feeling his arousal again.

She raised up, sitting her perfect ass on his erection. “Let me fuck you now.”

His smile burned up in the instant inferno her words created. He looked between them, watching her rise up and guide him to heaven’s door. Then she shoved them both through in a sudden drop that brought his fingers digging with a blast of desire. He helped her fuck him as hard and fast as she wanted, his growls building with every plunge she took. “Fuck,” he gasped, staring at his cock moving in and out of her. “Oh fuck, Cherie,” he said, jerking her harder and meeting every descent with a vicious buck of his hips. The assault was magnificent, her shrieks bursting with every slam of his dick.

His orgasm came, otherworldly and powerful. He knew this was how they’d always prepare for war from that point on. What she created… no, what they created felt like diving into a pool of immeasurable power and light and he needed every drop of that. It was a truly holy fuck, and he’d never experienced anything more glorious.

****

Patches pried his eyes open with a groan, hearing voices. He recognized one of the nurses while trying to make out the other familiar one. Sounded like… Tegan.

He groaned his way to sitting, remembering he’d texted her in the zombie hours after Lesion’s hero boost wore off the night before. There was no way he’d make that ride to her.

He listened to the agitated nurse. “Well, ma’am, he’s recovering from an accident, and we have a hurricane to prepare for, your business will have to wait,” she said, sorry not sorry.

He made his way to his feet as he heard Tegan’s voice, making her own point, sounding like she’d made it a few times already and wasn’t budging. Was she on speakerphone? “And I told you I know about the accident and that’s why I drove here.”

Drove here. She was there? How the hell did she find her way to his hospital?

The nurse must’ve read his mind as Tegan said, “Well, I didn’t teleport to this exact location, I was driven by a very nice and helpful man named Jek,” she said, stressing the nice and helpful at the nurse. “I got the number on the Bayou Bishops Facebook page, my lord, can I just see him so I can drop off this equipment and show him the ropes then get out of yourhair?”

He finally found his phone and opened the hospital app, hitting the paging button. “Nurse…uh… Sarah,” he remembered. “Show the lady…to the basement. Please. I’ll handle it from here. Thank you.”

“Yes sir,” she said as Patches slid the phone in his back pocket while swaying his way to his white coat and carefully sliding it on. He mentally counted and located his injuries. Fuck, he’d need a fucking map for all of them.

He was at the bottom of the stairs when the door opened above. Thank fuck, he would never make that climb.

She gasped at seeing him. “Oh my God. You weren’t kidding when you said you’d been mauled!”

He leaned against the wall, surprised at the woman heading down the steps toward him. Not the twig of a thing he’d imagined. She was bursting with curves in a pair of jeans that left nothing to the imagination. He didn’t even make it to the upper half by the time he was staring into the concerned face of a Miss Texas USA, complete with a black cowgirl hat. Just what he needed. A Texas Barbie in the swamp during a hurricane.

But who the hell would’ve told her he was mauled? “How… did you find out what happened?”

“You texted me!” she cried, angling her head at his midsection. “Now I see why your nurse was so protective. You always work in only a doctor’s jacket and jeans? Lordy, you’re lookin’ like Mr. October in that get-up. Hey, if you wanna do some modeling for my new line of clothing, I’ll make it worth your while.” She presented her phone, holding it before his face. “That’s your text,” she said, like he hadn’t believed her. “It was confusing as hell, but I figured out you were in trouble. I called that number on the Facebook Page and reached a nice man named Jek who confirmed you had been attacked. By a man,” she added with a whisper. “Who had been attacked by bats!” she further hissed.

He read the text, marveling at how long it was. “I voice texted it,” he remembered, explaining why it was such a mess. “I was so high,” he recalled then. He’d taken a couple Lorazepam to sleep. “I’ll pay you,” he mumbled. “For all the trouble.”

“No trouble, sugar,” she said, leaning against the stairwell wall and crossing her arms. His gaze got stuck on the milky swell of breasts being pushed up by her arms. He closed his eyes and lowered his head as his celibacy habit took over about two seconds too late.

“You need help getting somewhere?” she suddenly asked, maybe realizing he was stuck against the wall in agony.

“I’m…headed to the back porch.”

She took hold of his arm. “Well, then, direct me.”

The command left no room for compromise, and he chose not to bother even though he could walk fine. It was everything above his waist that was demolished. “That way,” he nodded, angling his body right.

“I have the equipment. I don’t know what’s going on,” she said, her voice going quiet like she somehow knew whatever it was must be classified. Maybe Jek. “I’ll get it set up right away and we’ll get your brother fitted with the biometric tag so you can help him. I am so sorry to hear that happened. Bats are no freakin’ joke. We lost thousands from one flock or whatever they’re called. How in the world did he manage so many bat bites? I asked Jek and he said he couldn’t discuss it, but I could ask you. I’m fine if you can’t say, I’m still gonna help however I can. But shit you not, I’m dyin’ to know how the heck that happened. Which side you want to sit at?” she wondered when they made it to the porch.

“I can walk. I was just dizzy. I’m fine now.”

“You sure?” she pressed, like she might kick his ass if he was wrong.

“Yeah.”

He finally sat with his eyes closed as Miss Texas grabbed a rocking chair nearby and scooted it right next to his. Fuck, the hurricane prep. He had the rest of the day and tomorrow to make sure everything was ready.

“You need anything? A drink of water? Bottle of pain killers?”

He let go a half laugh. “I’ll need something. I have too much shit to do.”

She looked around. “Like what? I decided I’m not making the drive back and was gonna get a hotel. But guess what? There ain’t a single dang room available for a hundred miles. Can you believe that?”

“We have room here,” he mumbled. “Every Hatch has a community shelter.”

“Wow, that’s amazing. I learned a little about that from Jek on the way out here. I have been a lot of places Doc but never have I ever seen such a paradise as this. You know in Texas, we want to be our own country. We’re all sick of the damn high up corruption, strangling the little people while pretending they do it all because they care. They don’t care about potatoes,” she assured with a snap of her head and eyes at him. “They care about control, power and money. We just want to own what we own without being manipulated by big brother, you feel what I’m saying?”

My God, she could talk. But then, everything was bigger in Texas he’d heard.

“I know, I know, I talk too much. Daddy said it’s a turn off with men. Probably why I do it, just to spite him and whatever man stupid enough to think I need one. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a feminist or anything. I like men for the most part.” He got in a chuckle. “It’s the pricks I don’t like. How’s it my fault there’s so many of those? You think they see a sweet mother for their spawns when they look at me, and not just the finest ass they ever saw? That’s their words, not mine. An ass is an ass, is an ass, not sure what the damn fuss is all about with that. But that’s dick for brains and judging by this place around here, I might be a tad excited to think male pricks are outlawed in these parts.”

“Your excitement wouldn’t be wasted Miss Texas. But don’t get too excited. The Twelve leaders of this place have a rule. No booze, no bitches and no blasphemy.”

Her slow smile drew his gaze and he found himself watching it like a rare event. It kind of was. “Well, I’d wager my spurs there’s more than twelve men in this swampy heaven.”

He nodded with a “Yeah,” while looking down at his coat pocket. He spotted his pack of joints and silently rejoiced, pulling them out. “But they’re not all bound by that code.”

“Here, give me that.” She took the pack from him and pulled a joint out. “You got a light?” She went to feeling his coat pocket where he’d gotten the pack then dug out his zippo. “Oh, nice,” she said, opening and putting it to her nose. He watched her take a sniff, her milk chocolate eyes rolling with her “mmmm. I love that smell.”

She presented the joint to his mouth and he eyed her as he leaned and captured it with his lips, watching her as she flicked the lighter, face now serious. Those perfect brows softened when the fire appeared, moving it to the tip of the joint. He puffed, getting it fully lit.

“Kinda dumb for a doctor to smoke, don’t you think?” she mused, taking it from him and puffing real big on it. She sputtered and choked, handing it back to him. “That’s not a damn cigarette!”

“No, it’s not,” he said, unable to stop his laugh. “You’re a real trip. How about you take a break for a swamp second and enjoy the quiet morning. Then we can get to what needs doing with as little words as possible.”

She nodded, looking around. “Alright Doc,” she said lightly. “I like a straight shooter.” She tucked her chin and pushed the front of her hat up a little. “That’s a whoooole lot better than an ass-kisser.” She looked at him. “So…where are these… Twelve Swamp Warriors?”

Was she in heat? “In their Hatches, likely.”

“Ah.” She looked around then wondered, “Where’s the one for this Hatch?”

He took in a huge breath and released it.

“Alright,” she fussed lightly, “don’t need to get huffy, I’ll shut up.”

He took another hit off his joint, counting the seconds.

“Just so you know, I’m volunteering for hurricane assistance if it’s needed. I’m capable if I’m shown what to do.”

“Two seconds.”

“What’s two seconds.”

“How long you went without talking.”

It was her turn to suck in a huge breath and let it go. And to his shock, they sat in silence. And for the entire fifteen minutes, he went about figuring out what the hell he was supposed to do with her while she was there. She was an unlikely volunteer, but the swamp never judged a helping hand. So, neither would he.

****

Would be the first time Ethan had uneasy feelings meeting their Seer. But it felt like the entire world could easily see the war happening in his guilty pores. His worst fears were realized when he couldn’t stay aroused with Cat. At the last second, his body yanked it all away. Not so fast, Loverboy. Where’s my pain?

But something else happened. She happened. He’d bared his evil addictions, and she took it like the angel she is. From that moment, he’d had a new war. The one that got what it wanted but this time it wasn’t so much what as it was who. His addiction was bad before it was worse now. It didn’t just want pain it wanted her and pain and it wouldn’t hear of any compromise. Without trying, fantasies ensued. He knew exactly what she looked like wearing black leather. Exactly what she would do when she punished him. There was only one thing he didn’t know and that was what it would feel like. It was now the utmost piece of critical information to his existence.

He eyed Cat hurrying down the pier, his sick hungers front and center. Her strength was becoming its own appetite and his mind already thought of ways to exploit it. She was now his defender. His warrioress. His heroine wrapped in silk. Fuck, to have her punish him…there could be no greater pleasure.

He took her hand and helped her in the boat. He directed her to sit in the seat before him where he could reach her. “You ready for this?” he asked when she faced him.

“As I’ll ever be. You nervous to see the Seer? Cause I sure am,” she volunteered.

He leaned till his mouth was next to hers. Her warm breaths turned instantly erratic. Yes. There was something delicious about this effect he had on her. He kissed her softly, feeling the shape of her lips with his and her arousal erupted. He pulled back, refusing both of them as the fire continued to burn. Denying himself pleasure was the one form of pain he had control of. And giving her pleasure while his body begged to join her was another. One she loved and hated.

He studied the other anomaly to his lusts. That sweet, shy smile she wore after he kissed her. Somehow, he loved those with an equal ferocity as his other kinks. Like vanilla and chocolate. Could they be mixed? What would that taste like? And her innocence. That was a cherry sitting on top of it all. He was sure it was meant to crown whatever the fuck would become of them.

****

Cat swallowed, wondering how those stomach butterflies managed to find their way into her throat. Was all him. Heaven’s sakes he was too beautiful. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous about seeing The Seer but if she had to guess, she worried he’d see all the dirty things she thought. What if he saw all her ideas to help Ethan? She didn’t know if they were wrong, but they seemed like they might be. Only, considering Ethan’s situation, she felt like there was an exception to be had. If her husband needed something sexually, what was so wrong in providing it?

She was terrified about that answer. And she really wanted to ask Ethan again if there wasn’t some…safe way to do it. Was like asking the drug addict if there was a safe way to do drugs. Of course there was. I do drugs safely all the time. Nobody dies. Until they did.

It suddenly seemed vital to talk to him about her idea. She didn’t want to keep things from him, that was not the way to a trusting relationship. She eyed his profile, loving how the wind blew his hair back. He had such a strong forehead. A strong everything. “So, I was thinking,” she said over the hum of the motor.

He turned and looked at her. “What were you thinking?”

Lord, his look and tone said he knew it was about sex. She moved her hands along the thin yellow dress, focusing her thoughts into the most convincing argument.

“Oh boy,” he said when she took a bit.

She laughed then said, “Don’t shoot it down till you hear me out.”

“Right,” he muttered, moving his gaze back to the passing forests.

“As your wife, I’m a help mate. Right?” He only grinned and she hurried on. “And that is God’s divine way, not mine,” she added with innocent hands up. “For better or worse, through good times and bad, thick and thin, and,” she added, shooting a finger up, “through sickness and health.” He smiled at the trees, and she hurried on. “Scientifically, masochism is considered a kind of disease or sickness, and God says I’m supposed to help you through that.”

He turned and looked at her. “What do you want to do?” he demanded, seeming ready to know.

“I want to give you what you need, that’s what I want to do. I can learn. You can teach me, you said so.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, lowering his head. Soon his chest moved like he struggled to breathe, and she reached out and grabbed his arm.

“Hey,” she called, getting his tormented gaze on her. “Breathe, Ethan. It’s just a question, you can say no.”

“But I can’t say no!” he growled at her. “I don’t want to say no.”

“Then don’t,” she urged softly. “I’m stronger than you think and…” she lowered her head as her chest filled to the brim. She looked up at him, blinking past tears. “You might think it’s silly but…” She couldn’t look him in the eye for fear of him laughing and so looked blindly at the forest. “I happen to love you a lot.”

He let off the gas and boat suddenly slowed till they sat still in the water, him staring at her. “What did you say?”

She wiped her face and fought the temptation to play it off. “I said I happen to love you. A lot. And I think love can—”

He took hold of her face and pressed his mouth so tightly to hers. He suddenly opened and began kissing her, his gasps hot as he stroked her face. “You love me Ma Petite Menou?” he asked, angling his head to devour her more.

“Yes. So much,” she swore, filling her hands with his silky hair. “Let me help you. Please,” she begged, holding his face, and kissing him back. “You know I can, you’ve seen how mean I can be.”

“Cat,” he gasped, his kiss getting rough and aggressive. “I want that so much.”

“You’ll teach me.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ll fucking teach you. I’ll teach you so good, baby.”

Her heart rejoiced and she stifled a sob as he sucked at her neck with an agonizing moan. “I’ll fight for you baby,” she promised, stroking his beautiful head. “We’ll fight together. We’ll win.”