All Chapters of Blood Beneath the Cypress Knees: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

“You’re not supposed to be alive.”The voice wasn’t near him. It wasn’t even behind him.It was inside his head—low, cold, dripping into his mind like oil through cracks.The first thing Rio tasted was blood.Not a trace—a mouthful. Warm, metallic, thick. It clung to the back of his throat like syrup made from rust. He gagged and spat into the muck, but the taste didn’t leave. His teeth felt slick with it—like it was his own.He coughed, the sound cracking through the cypress trees. The air pressed heavy on his lungs, thick with mildew and the sweetness of decay.When he opened his eyes, the sky was a bruised gray, just shy of dawn. Light seeped through twisted branches above in fractured beams, stabbing down through the mist like cold knives.He lay half-submerged in swamp water—clothes soaked, skin caked in mud. Blood mingled with the stink of stagnant water and rotting leaves. His jeans were wet to the thigh. His shirt—torn and stiff—clung to him like a second skin, dried with somet

Inside Le Sang Vert the music throbbed—low, heavy, sensual. Rio felt it in his chest, pulsing like a second heartbeat. The rhythm wasn’t just sound anymore... It was a sensation. Like the blood calling to him from every corner of this strange, decadent hell.Odessa circled him slowly, her presence both regal and terrifying. Her rich brown skin drank in the flickering candlelight, and her thick curls framed her face like a dark, obsidian crown. She moved with the grace of a predator who knew the room belonged to her.“Still pretending you don’t feel it?” she murmured, her voice velvet over steel.Gold hoops glinted at her ears. Her cold fingers brushed his jaw, his shoulder, then trailed down his arm. The touch burned—not with fire, but with something worse. Recognition.“You’ve been fighting it,” she said again, more to herself this time. “I can smell the shame on you.”Rio swallowed hard. “What did you do to me?”She laughed, low and husky. “You know what sugar. You just don’t want t

The scream still echoed in Rio’s skull.He stood at the swamp’s edge, golden eyes burning against the moonlight shimmering off black water. The air stank of rot and moss. Somewhere beyond the cypress veil, Junie was being dragged deeper into hell.Odessa slipped on her gloves with slow precision, her voice soft but sharp.“You’re thinking of charging in. Don’t.”Rio didn’t answer. His jaw worked. His fists clenched until his knuckles popped.“You rush in, Cassian will tear her apart just to spite you.” She stepped closer, her perfume slicing through the swamp’s decay like a blade through silk. “We do this smart. Quiet.”The night hissed with cicadas and the far-off croak of frogs.Rio met her gaze. “Then show me.”They moved like ghosts—no sound but the wet thud of their boots on swampy earth. Mist clung low, curling around roots like pale, grasping fingers. The deeper they pushed, the colder it became.Cassian’s lair loomed ahead—an old plantation house half-swallowed by the mire. It

The man smelled of fear and bourbon.He sat hunched at his kitchen table, cigarette smoke curling around his thinning hair. A photograph sat beside his glass of whiskey—a woman and two kids smiling from behind the glass.Rio’s fangs ached as he watched from the shadows.“You’re up, sugar,” Odessa whispered behind him. Her voice was almost gentle. Almost. “The Council doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”Rio stepped forward, boots silent on the worn linoleum.The man looked up, startled. His eyes went wide when they landed on Rio’s pale face.“Jesus,” he rasped, fumbling for the pistol on the table. “Who the hell are you?”Rio’s hand shot out, knocking the gun across the room.“This isn’t about me,” he said quietly.But even as the words left his lips, a knot formed in his stomach.The man struggled, but Rio pinned him against the wall. The scent of his blood—warm, alive—hit Rio like a hammer. His teeth ached. Hunger roared.“No…” the man whispered. “Please. I have kids...”Rio’s fangs san

Rio had enough he had to go back and speak to Claude. They got back in the car and headed back.The rain came down in sheets as Rio stepped out of the car.Claude waited beneath the sagging awning of a forgotten roadhouse, the faint glow of his cigarette cutting through the gloom. His wide-brimmed hat dripped water, and his eyes caught the flash of lightning—bright as twin coals.“You’re late, boy,” he said, voice low and thick with Cajun drawl.Rio didn’t flinch.“I didn’t come here to be lectured.”Claude’s grin flashed like a knife.“No. You came because you’re tired of bein’ their hound.”Behind Rio, the car idled in the rain. Junie peered out from the window, her pale face framed by fogged glass. Odessa lounged like a statue in the backseat, her onyx eyes unreadable.“You think I’m wrong?” Claude asked, dragging smoke deep into his lungs. “About the Council? About the games they play?”Images stabbed through Rio’s mind—Gabriel’s pleading face. The photographer screaming. Sophie’s