All Chapters of Heart of the Bayou Beasts: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

BriThose memories haunted my mind from the tender age of ten when my life had turned into a real-life nightmare. My mother was a whirlwind who only existed in my world if she expected something from me or had some unknown tick that I set off without even trying. I was often ducking as she heaved whatever was closest to her at my head using her tiny little gift of wind manipulation. Her real gift lay in whatever magic she had used on my father. Anytime she thought I stepped out of line, there was a special kind of torture waiting for me. She tried to coerce my abilities to the surface. Goading me to reveal all of what I was, yet I held it all back and in the safe place within me where no one could see. Holding onto my father’s warning I would lay in wait, for the moment I could get away. Her recruits into my father’s once harmonious coven were shady at best, seedy was more like it, giving me voyeur vibes and prickling my skin with unease. I constantly pushed the extent of my power’s

BriA few hours later I ducked into the backroom of the coffee shop where I worked. I didn’t need to work there, I had enough deposited into accounts to keep myself stable for years, but my mother and the group couldn’t say no as things had to appear normal. To be honest it was the most normal thing in my existence. The feel and vibe of the place kept my magic subdued and the pot was an added perk. It was for my sanity. Maggie, my boss, sat in a chic fringe chair, with her legs propped up on her messy desk, pulling a joint from her lips she smiled holding in the smoke, and held it out in offering. I walked across the room and took it gratefully. One inhale and it felt like melding closer to earth which I craved. Passing it back I held in the smoke until my lungs burned, letting it out a haggard cough escaped me that nearly choked me. “What's with you today?” She eyed me. I had taken that hit rather aggressively I supposed. I perched on her desk. I still kept my eyes cast down but I shr

When I hit the call pad at the gate, my mother’s voice came across instead of the butler's. “Brianna come to the dining hall, we have to have a discussion.” Goddess! Couldn’t I at least eat a damn sandwich before having a conversation with her. No doubt it was about what Andrew did which he made sure Draven saw. “Fine Lorraine,” I said, I hadn’t called her mother in years. She tisked as usual, but pressed the button to allow me in. I walked up the long drive enjoying the plush gardens, taking the long way around the back through the kitchen, and grabbing an apple and slice of bread. I moved my way through the house to the dining hall and paused, all 4 of them were there, plus Trent. What in the actual fuck was this about. Boy was I glad I was high right now, I may get through the night without murdering someone. I’d have to remember to thank Mags later. I studied the seating choices. My mother, wearing a precocious red suit jacket with lips to match watched me like the Snake she was,

As we moved through the halls Trent dutifully beside Andy, he went to speak ‘Shh,’ I barely breathed, and Andy chuckled. “Sneaky, very sneaky,” he murmured in amusement ever so quietly. When we got to my bedroom I felt him motion for Trent to open the door. He laid me on the bed and the door clicked shut. I groaned forcing myself to sit up. Trent was shaking his head, looking back and forth at us both. “How is this ok?” He said flabbergasted. “It's not,” we both said in tandem. “Th-Those other guys could be your dad or your grandfathers.” My stomach turned, it seemed so much worse when someone else said it out loud. “And Draven, that guy is like a pedophile, did you see how he stared at her all night?” My gut lurched and I propelled myself off the bed, stumbling into the bathroom to relieve myself of what little was in my stomach. After rinsing out my mouth I walked out with a hand towel, a glass of water, and some Advil. I plopped back down on my bed. “Andy I knew there were others b

BriAs the sun rose golden beyond the thick canopy of Spanish moss-laden cypress, the nocturnal creatures laid down to rest. I spent that day pushing the small boat around fallen logs and trees through thick patches of marsh grass, lilies, and duckweed in the shallows and paddling through deeper channels. The familiar sounds of my bustling home in The Big Easy were gone now as the buzzing of insects and the drone of cicadas filled my ears, the occasional calls of birds sounding off in the distance. Telltale disturbances disrupted the murky expanse of the stagnant waters as gators, frogs, and slithering things moved within its depths. It was impossible to know what exactly lay beneath the dark brown water below, it was void of light. The biggest gator ever recorded was a behemoth of 19 feet. That one must have inherited some prehistoric DNA. My father used to tell me stories about all his dramatic encounters as a boy growing up in Cajun country, and though I'm sure there were many exa