The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (8 page)

BOOK: The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals
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This was
usually done without the aid of a mirror at home to avoid any unwanted peaks at
my flesh. But in Porcia’s bathroom, as with all of the bathrooms in the house from
what I was told, the mirror was an entire wall, usually always opposite the
shower stall and bath tub. Despite what the movies claim, Vampires
do
have
a reflection and they preen —a lot.

When in
the shower, the steam had fogged the reflections, saving me from seeing. Now,
however, I could do no more than hastily shed the robe and quickly yank on the
silky excuses for pajamas that Porcia had given me.

There is
one thing about Immortals that also marks them for what they are, Immortals do
not scar. They take varying amounts of time to heal, but scars are erased with
Making or Turning. While every other part of me is flawless, my bites will
always be there, marring my shoulder diagonally towards my breast, a full seven
and a half inches, where the Were had tried to drag me away, not only biting,
but tearing my flesh. The smaller bite inside that, almost a perfect half
crescent of teeth on my shoulder, is where the Vampire had been drawn to my
blood, drinking deep when I was too shocked and weak to stop him. Savage
recollections. Haunting reminders. Gruesome memories.

A
permanent reminder that would never go away, and I did not know why.

Porcia
can talk all she wanted about men, but in the end, scars like mine don’t appeal
on the material front. The heated look in a man’s eyes soon disappears when
they catch sight of the scars, swiftly turning that fire to curiosity, then
concern, then awkwardness, and then quiet disgust—if I’m lucky. I have gotten
confusion, then disgust, then anger, as if I’d deceived them. You only have to
see the reactions so many times before you just stop showing them. I’m
disfigured, right down to my soul, and that’s not going away any time soon.

5

 

Three
days.
Three goddamned days.
Nothing but flat refusal for release and
no answers to my questions about when I can go home. Not a single one of these
bloody Vampires, or their damn walking blood bags, would give me even the
slightest hint of where I was, what they would do with me, and why the hell I
had to wait until the mysterious Vincent came before finding out. And he isn’t
due until tomorrow night!
For all that they say I’m a guest, I’m
starting to feel an awful lot like a prisoner.

And. It.
Wa
s.
Grating
.

Unable to
take my own bouncing foot while sitting any longer, I was reduced to wearing a
path in the rich Indian rug spreading the entire length of Osiris's plush
library, my bored mind running through all the possible ways to escape the
godforsaken place. If I had to squeeze into one more plunging neck-lined, navel
peep-show, 'this will look great on you' top of Porcia's, or scramble to hide
myself while sleeping in that flimsy scrap of an excuse for nightwear for
one more night, I might’ve just taken my own head off.

And, as
I’m rather adverse to self-inflicted guillotine, escape it was.
The vamps needed
 
reminding that you can’t trap a bounty
hunter, let alone Little Red Riding Hood.

I’m badass, bi-atch

Stopping
to momentarily stare out at the woods around the house, I contemplated what I
knew of the household’s routines. A forest that stretched on for miles was to
the east, while swamps lay north and fields spread out in a rolling horizon to
the south—or so I’d been told, since I was not allowed outside. I’d deduced
that the biggest obstacle was finding a way out and how to just keep on going. Being
only half-Vampire, my speed was not quite as swift as a full-blood, but my
wolf-side ensured that I could keep up my nippy pace for longer. What I lacked
in power, I made up for in endurance.

The first
one was the tricky, big obstacle I needed to get past. The second one was what
was going to keep me past the tricky, big obstacle.

I also
knew that Osiris cloistered himself away in his study, doing what, I didn’t
know, but he always seemed to know when I was going to cause mischief. I’d
tried climbing out a window the day before, and I’d barely moved towards the
sill when he knocked on the bedroom door and asked if I wished to stretch my
legs. I’d stared at him like a dipstick and hastily shaken my head, disinclined
to spend any prolonged time in the unusual, apathetic Vampire’s company. When I
had tried sneaking a pair of tweezers from Porcia’s bathroom and attempted to
pick the lock on the kitchen door that lead out to the gardens, he’d suddenly
appeared out of nowhere just as I was about to crouch down, and asked me if I
liked puzzles. I’d blinked at him, too shocked to do anything else, simply
nodded and followed him out. To which
 
followed
two hours of intricate glass and steel puzzles and a game of chess.

Creepy.

Porcia,
however, I had been in the company of whether I was disinclined to be or not. She
clung to me as if I was her new BFF and chattered non-stop about anything in
such a manner that I couldn’t help but stare at her mouth in alarm while
she did whatever she wanted to me. That being said, the pedicure I was loathed
to receive that morning did actually make my feet look 
so 
much
better.

But I was
not telling her that.

Frost, in
contrast, was her ever-present
 
shadow. Silent and stoic, he’d obviously had a long while to
accustom himself to Porcia’s rambling. All he seemed to do was give a small
smile or a nod of his head, and then zone out completely. I couldn’t tell if he
even listened or not as he strolled along the halls of this estate with us. The
only time he didn’t accompany us was when Porcia and I were in each other’s
rooms. He never stepped past the threshold, but merely gave a slight incline of
his head, and wandered off to his own quarters. The first time he’d just wandered
off, I hadn’t even noticed until a few hours later. He was a ghost.

Both
young Vampires, however, were currently out hunting, leaving me on my savvy
lonesome.

I asked
Porcia once what Frost did when not in our company. She’d merely shrugged and
said, “Plays chess with Osiris or the violin with Felix.” All thoughts had then
derailed into my new obsession.

Felix…

The one Vampire
I’d like to get my claws into—and not in the good way. Well, I guess ‘good’
depends on your kink threshold, but that’s beside the point! For someone who
had been so keen to get me onto his side and into his clan, I’d seen neither
hide nor hair of him—bar the brief flashes of his passing by a door— since he’d
nigh stripped me to my undies. The infuriating scumbag was avoiding me, I knew
it. He had got me into a mess, and I’d barely seen him since.

Can’t
he just stand still for ten minutes, so I can at least look at him? Is that too
much to ask? 
Obviously.

After
nearly forty-eight hours of searching, waiting and tracking my elusive prey, I
finally caught him the previous afternoon as he was leaving his quarters,
pulling on his biker jacket (
I still want one of those!
) and strolling
for the stairs. I’d instantly accosted him and bombarded him with questions,
partially bedazzled by his pretty eyes, chiseled features and the breadth of
his cling-to-me-while-you-scream shoulders.

Ahem.
Focus, Red!

I’d
demanded answers quite forcefully; to which all he did was laugh and hold up
his hands in surrender and say, “I’ll know when Vince gets here,” then waltzed
out the door. I could only watch in open-mouthed shock and dismay.

Whoever
this Vince fellow was, his shoddy, unpunctual, and downright inconvenient
no-showing, was starting to drive me nuts. And crazy people, as we all know,
crack when confined. That's why they need the special jacket.

Cue
hysterical giggle.

Suddenly,
the soft boom of a door slamming jerked my head around. Moving quietly to the
library doors, I sneaked a peak down the hall leading to the marble foyer and
the grand stairs. Flaring my nostrils, I inhaled deeply, narrowing my gaze to
cut through the evening shadows of the hall and see past them.

Ice
and coffee.
Anise.
Felix.

Exhaling
a shuddering breath, feeling my entire body light up from every tiny cell and
spreading outwards—the general reaction to this particular bloodsucker, I’d discovered—I
slipped silently from the library and into the shadowed corridor just as
the aforementioned bloodsucker came waltzing out of the alcove near the
kitchen that led
 
to the garage. And, 
God
, men shouldn’t be so
striking.

His dark
hair stuck out in wild disarray, windblown and yummy, beckoning for a touch. My
fingers curled into a fist to keep from shoving them through his thick locks to
grip tightly, yanking his mouth down to mine, or pulling his head back to bare
the smooth column of his neck to my hungry lips. 

 Losing
focus again, Red!
Cough.

His dark,
slashing brows were furrowed, his lashes cast down with his gaze to the floor,
as if deep in thought. His lips were drawn into a grim line, pulling the skin
tight over his high, chiseled cheekbones, making the handsome plains of his
face look harsh and severe.

Still
made-me-stupid hawt, though.

He
bounced his keys absently in his right hand as he strode across the foyer, the
ornate lighting above rebounding off the embossed keys. He took the stairs up
to the next floor two at a time, not even noticing me in the shadows.

My
nerve-endings came alive with the possibilities of getting free like a fuse set
to firecrackers, my mind fixating on one thing for long minutes after Felix had
disappeared upstairs.

Keys.

From my
extensive observations, (cough, stalking, cough) I knew that Felix would head
straight up to his room and shower before meeting with Osiris is his study. I’d
noticed that, and don’t judge me for this, but the longer he spends outside the
house, the longer he spends inside the shower when he returns. I knew this only
because I had sat outside his room and waited for him several times the last
few days. Unfortunately, Porcia always dragged me to my feet and hauled me off.
For
someone
who keeps going on about how much Felix would like this, that and the other,
I’ve very rarely been given an opportunity to show him.

Damn Vampires.
This time though... this time I only let her because I was lulled by the sound
of running water and the soft whisper of splashing…

Felix…
Naked… Wet… Bad Kitty.

As
casually as I could, concentrating mainly on keeping my heart steady as I
wonder up the stairs, passed smiling, laughing meals-on-wheels, following
followed Felix’s scent. Something I could probably have done in my sleep. The
hall was empty as I approached his door, and my keen hearing picked out the
distinct sound of the shower running. Glancing around, cocking an ear to listen
to ensure no one else neared, I shifted over to stroll right by, smoothly
clasped my fingers around the handle, bent it and silently slipped into
his room.

 Soundlessly
pressing my back to the closed door, I sucked in a sharp breath. The rich,
spicy aroma filling the room was heady and almost as intoxicating as the male
it emanated from. If I had had the time, I’d bask in the decadent perfume until
it was embedded in my skin. The male was very distracting, maybe
too
distracting,
because I’d caught myself wondering as of late what my scent and his would
smell like when combined.

And
there are only a couple ways to make that happen.

Clamping
down on the desire to purr, I scanned the room, keeping a close ear open to the
sounds coming from the bathroom. Taking in all the dark cherry wood, casual and
comfy furniture, as well as the rich, deep colors of the room, I suffered a
stuttering moment of mild surprise.

I had not
expected Felix’s room to have shimmering teal silk pillows, a deep chocolate colored
faux fur throw, or rich, dark purple velvet curtains against ruby red and gold
bed linen. The glossy wood of his slay bed, strewn with luscious materials
begging for a feel and surrounded by comfort in all its vibrant glory, brought
to mind things that were entirely inappropriate, and I found myself wasting
several moments just fantasizing! I could just imagine how wonderfully those
bright shades would bring out each iridescent facet of his skin as he sprawled
across them… beckoning… provocative... wanton...

Focus!
Jeez, short attention span much?

“Red?”

My head swiveled sharply
to the bathroom door. It was slightly ajar, and sounds of running water oozed
with every gentle puff of steam.

“Red, that you?” Felix’s
deep English drawl jacked my heart rate to hyper-speed, my panic quick to
follow.

How the hell did he know
it was me?

And then I saw the keys, sparkling
like a treasure on the large, cherry wood cabinet to my left. Dashing over and
swiping them up, I pivoted and raced for the door as I heard the shower trickle
off. My heart, stomach and lungs lurched into my throat as I swung the door
shut behind me, as silently as I’d entered, and beat feet like an escaped
convict down to the foyer.

“Red!” Felix’s sudden
growl had me cutting off a squeak of the
oh-shits
, and for a brief
moment I wondered how I had even heard him over the mad rushing pound of my
blood in my ears.

The door banged against
the wall when I yanked it open and plunged myself into the dark space beyond,
descending at warp-speed down the concrete stairs to the underground garage. Halogen
lights blinked on when I hit the bottom, and I fumbled the keys in my hand.

Lights blinked again just
ahead of me for an instant. My mouth fell open.

A Maserati GTO?
 
Of course. In black, too.

Not giving myself a moment
to admire and inspect the delicious beast of modern machinery, I leapt forward,
pulled the door open...up?

Oooohhh suicide doors,
nice modification!

I slid into buttery soft,
black leather seats trimmed in a bright red.

Body says,
 
Can I orgasm now?
 
Mind says,
 
Oh, hell yeah.
Libido says,
 
Already there.

Starting the car, it
roared to life with enough enthusiasm to make me shiver, and I warily pressed
the button remote clipped to the visor, beaming as the garage door started to
lift.

“Come on, come on, come
on!” I bounced in the seat, part-excitement and adrenaline, part-fear at the
prospect of being caught. Felix had sounded
 
pissed
 
and I
so-o-o
did not want to
confront him, especially as I was about to steal his car.

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