The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf: A New Orleans Threesome Read online

  The Vampire, The Witch & The Werewolf:

  A New Orleans Threesome

  A Ravenous Romance® Original Publication

  Louisa Bacio

  A Ravenous Romance® Original Publication

  www.ravenousromance.com

  Copyright © 2011 by

  Ravenous Romance®

  100 Cummings Center

  Suite 123A

  Beverly, MA 01915

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

  ISBN-13: 978-1-60777-404-4

  This book is a work of fiction, and any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For my husband, who introduced me to the passion of New Orleans, and my girls who fill me with constant love. Thanks goes to my parents, friends, and family for continued support, and to the writing-friends at Savvy Authors. Our sprints pushed me through some exciting chapters.

  And finally, molto grazie to my agent, Saritza Hernandez at the L. Perkins Agency and my publisher Ravenous Romance for planting the suggestion of a “paranormal threesome.”

  Contents

  Chapter One: Lawrence

  Chapter Two: Lily

  Chapter Three: Lily

  Chapter Four: Lily

  Chapter Five: Lily

  Chapter Six: Lawrence

  Chapter Seven: Lily

  Chapter Eight: Trevor

  Chapter Nine: Lily

  Chapter Ten: Lily

  Chapter Eleven: Lily

  Chapter Twelve: Lily

  Chapter Thirteen: Trevor

  Chapter Fourteen: Trevor

  Chapter Fifteen: Lily

  Chapter Sixteen: Lily

  Chapter Seventeen: Lily

  Chapter Eighteen: Lawrence

  Chapter Nineteen: Trevor

  Chapter Twenty: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-One: Trevor

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Lawrence

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Trevor

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-Eight: Lily

  Chapter Twenty-Nine: Lily

  Chapter Thirty: Lawrence

  Chapter Thirty-One: Lily

  Chapter Thirty-Two: Lily

  Chapter One

  Lawrence

  “I thought you two were supposed to hate each other.”

  The question came out of the darkness, and beneath him, Lawrence could feel Trevor's muscles flex, as if his werewolf lover were readying himself for combat.

  The coppery taste of Trevor's blood filled Lawrence's mouth, and he stroked his tongue over his lips, making sure to catch every drop, always careful to avoid the sharp points of his teeth. By now, the act had become more than second nature. A young vamp had only to cut his tongue a few times on his own teeth before learning an ever-after lesson. As for Lawrence, he'd learned that trick of the trade more years ago than he'd care to count.

  “And where did you get that mythos? That saccharine ‘tween series that teaches abstinence?” Lawrence retorted, talking while getting a bearing on their intruder. “No one has sex in those stories. Just because the elusive and tortured vampire and the lovely nubile werewolf pretend not to like each other, doesn't mean that the entire species feels the same way.”

  As she stepped out of the darkness and into the shadows, her beauty struck him: petite, but muscular, well built, and well proportioned. Legs that took up more than half her body length, with a tanned creaminess that most people associated with beach bunnies slathered in silky suntan oil. Oh, baby, he could almost smell the sweet coconut allure and feel the sun's warm rays from memory alone. Her short red leather skirt provided plenty of bare thigh to draw him in.

  From the feel of Trevor's cock growing hard against Lawrence, he obviously liked the way she looked, too. They had shared women in the past, but this one carried an air about her. A magnetism that called to him.

  She took another step forward and stood directly beneath a light, the gold streaks in her red hair shone. She glanced up. As if on cue, the bulb flickered, sending out waves of darkness, until it shattered and went dark. She took another step forward, high-heeled boots crunching on broken glass.

  “Holy shit,” Trevor said. “Law, let me up.” Trevor pushed against Lawrence with his hips.

  After shifting his own straining member aside, Lawrence un-straddled Trevor's body. The minute their bodies lost contact, he immediately missed Trevor's comforting heat. Nothing like a were-boyfriend to keep one's bed warm in winter.

  “If left alone for too long,” Lawrence continued on his oft-spoken fantasy, “I'm sure the two haters would eventually become lovers.”

  “That's enough Lawrence,” Trevor said. “I'm sure our uninvited guest came here for a reason, and it's probably best we hear what it is.”

  The hair on the back of Trevor's neck rose up beneath Lawrence's fingertips. His senses on high alert, Lawrence could see the outer edges of Trevor's nostrils flare out as if he was trying to catch her scent.

  “She doesn't smell right,” he said, whispering under his breath. “Not human … at least not totally, but I'm not sure what else.”

  “That's what I'm hoping you'll help me figure out,” she said, walking closer. “I need to know what I am, and I heard that you two may be able to help me.”

  With his hand extended, Trevor looked absolutely regal in his khaki pants, despite not wearing a shirt. He'd been working out the past few months, and the muscles on his chest stood out. He'd certainly buffed up since that night Lawrence found him beaten and near death in the alley.

  “I'm Trevor Pack,” he said, offering his hand to their female guest. “This is my partner Lawrence Justice. And who might you be?”

  “Lilianna Anima,” she said, “but my friends call me Lily. At least they used to. The past year, I've lost most of them.”

  She ran her fingers through her hair, and the corner of her eye twitched as if she had been reading too much, and sleeping not enough.

  “First, I'd like to know how you got in here,” Trevor said, stepping in front of Lawrence, and spreading out his stance. “And then, who sent you to us. We run an after-hours bookstore. I'm not quite sure how we're supposed to help you with anything, unless you're looking for some sort of rare, first-edition release.”

  The lights above flickered, and with a quick glance upward, Lawrence interjected. “Don't mind the manners of my young partner, Ms. Anima. Why don't you make yourself comfortable, and I'll make you some tea.”

  With his hand on her lower back, Lawrence led her over to a black and white ‘50s-style dinette set in the corner. Although they lived in an oversized loft, the living space had been broken down into different sections: kitchen, dining area, living room, and sleeping quarters. Within the middle space, high Asian-influenced black partitions separated the area. Around the outside of the floor, they had installed walls to afford privacy in the bedrooms.

  As soon as Lilianna sat in the chair, her bravado deflated. Shoulders hunched forward, she rested her chin in the palms of her hands, and shook her head, as if she wasn't quite sure what she was doing there. Lawrence motioned to Trevor to sit next to her, and he placed the teakettle on to boil. After more than 180 years of being in this world, Lawrence had learned that a soothing cup of chamomile tea with lavender honey calmed just about anyone's nerves. And Ms. An
ima looked to need a shot of whiskey in her brew too.

  “So Ms. Anima, has anyone ever told you that your last name means ‘soul’ in Italian?” Lawrence asked.

  “Not in the first five minutes of conversation,” she replied. “Has anyone ever told you that your name, ‘Law Justice,’ is a bit redundant?”

  “Ah, touché. But when you get to be my age, you get to choose your name,” he said. “And I'm such a fan of irony. Isn't that true, Mr. Pack.”

  Trevor's laughter expanded the space, pushing out the negative vibes surrounding Lily. She looked at him with a smile of her own, and Lawrence's heart did a little lurch. While he couldn't read minds outright, he could very much read people, and something told him that Ms. Anima would bring some pain and joy into their lives.

  As Lawrence poured the hot water into three china cups, he readied himself for the conversation to come. Either they would turn the lonesome creature away from their home and refused to help her, or they would open the future to the unknown. He laid a slice of lemon onto each matching saucer and carried all three to the table. One look in Lily's eyes, and Lawrence knew the choice already had been made. An option had never existed.

  She studied the blue floral pattern on the china, dragging her ring finger around the delicate edge before picking up the cup and taking a slow sip. She closed her eyes, and he could imagine the warm liquid flowing down her equally delicate throat. Above the rim of his own cup, Trevor met Lawrence's gaze and he lifted his eyebrows in question. Lawrence reached over and placed his hand on Trevor's, sending an assurance that all would be well.

  Lily opened her eyes, and took in their clasped hands. “Who's the alpha?” she asked, disarming Lawrence's sympathy.

  “We have a long history together,” Trevor said, in explanation. As if that wasn't the understatement of the decade, Lawrence thought, stifling further comment.

  “Plus, having a werewolf as a lover,” Lawrence said with a slight laugh, “definitely has its furrr-inge benefits. You should try it someday.”

  “Do you come as part of the deal?”

  Chapter Two

  Lily

  The air charged with her implied solicitation. The heat between these two men overflowed onto Lily, and the hair on her arms stood up in anticipation. For someone with so little sexual experience, she sure was throwing herself out there for the taking. That, too, had become part of her problem.

  Sometimes Lily spoke without much thought, and lately that tendency had grown worse.

  “Sorry,” Lily mumbled into her cup of tea, “for coming off as such a bitch.”

  The elegant vampire Lawrence stood still, like only a member of the undead could. He was handsome in that classic French aristocratic way: short dark, sculpted hair with just a twist of curl along the edges, strong jaw line, full red lips, with a jutting bottom lip meant to be sucked on, and a prominent hook nose. While popular impressions of Frenchmen ranged from the blasé to the passionate, Lily figured she should throw whatever stereotypes she had out the door.

  Was he even breathing? She looked over his chest, and sucked in her own breath as he ever so slowly lifted one eyebrow in amusement.

  Such a small gesture added so much emotion to the situation. Part of her wanted to provoke him further, shake him out of his stoic demeanor. Instead, she bit her lower lip, gently kneading it between her teeth, and contemplated where to go from here.

  How could she tell these two hunky men that she literally had to get laid? Clearly, wanting to do the deed and actually following through were two different matters. Sure, the desire was there. Lily's body was urging her on, fueling abnormal— at least for her— and improper actions, but it was as if she wore a virtual chastity belt. Some sort of psychic physical boundary kept her from acting upon those urges. She desperately needed to find the key to bridging the chasm between want and need, and action. Perhaps together they could uncover the answer.

  “You have our attention,” Trevor said, sitting across from Lily. He continued lightly, “and you've certainly got quite a bit of spark working in your favor. So tell us what you're looking for, and how that brought you to us.”

  “Can you sit too?” Lily asked of Lawrence. “The way you hover about is making me nervous, which probably isn't good for your light fixtures.”

  He threw his head back and laughed, startling her. In that moment she glimpsed his humanity, and a longing tugged deep within her, a desire to make him laugh again. He pulled a chair from the table, flipped it around, and sat down—his chest facing the back of the chair and elbows resting on the table. The gesture seemed more appropriate for a college frat boy than an ancient vampire, and it threw Lily off. Usually she was such a good judge of character, and she couldn't read Lawrence.

  After Lawrence settled in his chair between Trevor and Lily, she relaxed a bit. With all the chaos erupting in her life, she constantly lived on alert.

  “So how did you get to Louisiana?” Trevor asked.

  Internally, Lily reflected on her journey, wondering about how much she needed to tell them. What points were important versus filler?

  “It's no so much the matter of the journey from California to here,” she said. “It's more about the why.”

  Trevor looked to be pondering her response, and she took in the younger man. She estimated him to be mid-twenties, and while Lawrence's build was tall and lean, Trevor's physique was much more compact. His fair skin and blond hair made her think that when he shifted, he'd look less like a dark wolf and more like a golden retriever. She chuckled at the comparison. The late hour and lack of sleep was making her loopy.

  Both of the men looked at her curiously and in anticipation. This part of the story was hers to tell, but how to start?

  “It's mostly been physical things,” she said, “and the symptoms—if you would call them that—began almost a year ago now …”

  She explained how, in all honesty, her life had been full of strange things happening around her. If someone crossed her, usually they'd get their own right back. She had always chalked it up to karma, and the cliché “what goes around comes around.” If someone is evil to another it'll eventually come back in full force. Then, events started to have more of a direct and immediate interaction.

  “Go on,” Trevor coaxed.

  “Well, say someone would cut me off on the five freeway and then flip me the bird, next thing I knew I'd pass them broken down on the side of the road. I'd always hope that the asshole swerving in and out of traffic would get pulled over by a cop, but that never seemed to happen. Until lately,” she stopped talking, and took a deep breath.

  “And then there are things like tonight—the overhead lights breaking. It's not something I think about consciously, but it seems to happen around me. I also hear other people's thoughts and feelings—just tap right into what's going on in their head. Most of the time, I don't realize it's happened. It's as if we're continuing a conversation but after I respond, well, I can tell if they hadn't actually said anything out loud.”

  That wasn't all of it, but it was as much as she was willing to share at the moment.

  Lawrence looked Lily over, as if he was studying her or coming to some type of decision. “Sounds like the manifestation of psychic powers to me,” he said, “the main question is why now? What caused it?”

  Trevor nodded in agreement, and took another sip of his tea. “And how did you find us?”

  “It wasn't easy. It's not like I hang with a supernatural crowd,” she said jokingly. Neither responded and that damn eyebrow of Lawrence's went up again. The twosome definitely had their interrogation techniques down. Instead of torture, though, they served up steaming hot drinks with a slice of lemon.

  “For now, can I just say that I read about you two and your bookstore Pages in an article about the rebirth of culture in New Orleans, and then I kept dreaming about you?” She blushed, thinking about the intense sexual dreams that they played center stage in. Paranormals blended with the norms of the world; but the
y weren't “out” in the general public's knowledge, and Lily had only learned of their existence fairly recently.

  “While the article didn't mention anything ‘special’ about you, but my dreams spoke to me, told me that you two would be able to help me,” she said.

  Her answer seemed to be enough.

  “Where are you staying?” Trevor asked.

  Earlier in the week, Lily had set out in her ancient Toyota Tercel, praying that the old Mint Julep—an appropriate nickname for the vehicle given their destination—would make it not only cross-country, but into her future. Besides getting to New Orleans, she hadn't thought that far ahead. She had a few hundred dollars saved up from tips stashed in her purse and even less on a maxed-out credit card. Once she arrived, she'd hoped to get a cheap rental and a job in a restaurant. She'd heard that the city was still running low on wait staff and hotel personnel after Katrina,.

  Many of the shops around the bookstore looked deserted, and even in her limited time on the streets, she had seen many more “for sale” than “for rent” signs.

  All of these thoughts ran through her mind, and Lily simply shook her head, and said, “I don't know.”

  Trevor cleared his throat, and he and Lawrence exchanged another knowing look. It made Lily wonder if somehow they were silently, telepathically, communicating and she couldn't pick up on it. Or if, like any couple who'd been together for a while, they simply knew what the other was thinking.

  “Why don't you stay here with us?” Lawrence asked.

  Trevor stood, and circled behind Lily. Without him even touching her, she could feel him there. His presence and warmth soothed her, and the chaotic pace that she'd established making the journey from California to New Orleans flowed out of her. Being here would be good for her, and for her soul. Lily's mind flashed to the darkness chasing her within her dreams, and the overwhelming enveloping evil that pervaded her sleep world. If they were going to be able to help her, she had more to tell them.

  The young werewolf rested one hand on her shoulder, breaking her train of thought, and she looked up into his concerned face. He lightly traced the back of her neck with his thumb, sending sensual sensations throughout her entire body.