The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (11 page)

In the
far corner, opposite the treadmill, punching bag and mat area, were my weapons
cabinets—all built into the wall to optimize the space, and opened with a light
brush or press of the fingertips. They also filled the whole wall. I grabbed
the duffel by the locker and lugged the empty sack over to the steel cabinets.

My
fingers brushed a panel, and it popped open like a cupboard.

“We’re
not done talking about your tech wizard,” Felix grouched, finally following me
down the stairs and across the mats. “What’s down—”

I pulled
open the cabinet all the way, revealing duplicates of small firearms, mostly
glocks and berettas and the customized clips of titanium and silver, as well as
one-of-a-kind modified tranquilizers.

“—here…”

Felix’s
words trailed off and I smiled.

“I do
take my job
very
seriously, you know?” I said, popping two of each
weapon into my bag, and several rounds of reloads. Then I stepped back, pressed
my fingertips to the panels running along the bottom half of the wall, and let
the drawer pop open.

“I can
see that. Bounty hunting must be pretty lucrative.” He popped open a cabinet,
peering in with brows raised, then imitated what I did with the drawers as I
selected a couple of throwing stars and spare chains for my wrists.

“It has
its moments.” I looked over at him. “And you forget, I’ve been at this a
while.”
Shrug.
 “A lot of the finer parts of my collection were
gifts.” I pressed open another draw and retrieved a twin sword sheath and a
utility belt.

“You keep
jewelry down here?” He asked then, flicking a finger at my wrists and the
velvet bag I was putting the spare chains into.

“You
won’t like my answer,” I replied, carefully folding the pouch.

“Why
not?” he asked, and I looked at him.

“Because
then you’d know I’ve had a weapon on me the whole time I’ve been in your clan’s
house.”

His eyes
narrowed, and then flickered down to his wrists. I could see his mind trying to
figure out how a couple of dainty little bracelets could be a weapon. I was
sure there’d be an opportunity to show him in the future. I smiled brightly
when his gaze returned to my face.

“You’re a
wily one, pet. I’ll give you that.” He turned away and meandered to another set
of cabinets.

Grinning
to myself, I went back to selecting weapons. I tried to imagine every scenario,
but having not heard what the mission was yet, I couldn’t adequately guess.
Bugger
it; I’ll just pack for
any
eventuality.

“Bugger
me.” I heard Felix murmur, and glanced up at him in surprise at the near
mirroring of my thoughts.

“What?” I
asked, and his dark head popped out from behind a cabinet door.

“A silver
whip?” he drawled, incredulous.

I
laughed, and walked over to him, brushing my fingers over the glittering coil
of silver.
Ahhh…memories.

“A gift
from an Arabian Prince. He was a Vampire. Very old.” I smiled wryly. “He said I
looked to have very good wrist action.”

Felix
barked out a laugh, the big smile taking him from gorgeous to heart-stopping in
an instant.
Jeepers, my knees all but
buckled! Those lean dimples in his cheeks and the sparkle brightening his eyes
to a dark lime made him positively devastating.

“You ever
use it?” he asked.

I
shrugged, a secret smile playing across my face. “I’ve dabbled.”

“Been a
bad kitty again, Red?” he asked, sexy brow arching.

I leaned
past him to close the cabinet doors. “Well, maybe if you’re
 
really
 
good, I just might show you just
 
how
 
good I can be, too.”

Something
blazed in his eyes, so fast I almost missed it. If not for the brief flicker of
gold lightning, a hot flash in those emerald eyes giving it away before he
returned his gaze to the whip, I’d never have seen it. I could have pretended I
didn’t see, could have convinced both me and him that neither of us was
attracted to the other, but the flare of interest in his eyes and the sudden
rush of heat through my body blasted all that crap to hell.

“You got
everything?” he asked, after clearing his throat.

Nodding,
I replied, “All set.” Turning away, I thanked all that was holy that my voice
wasn’t hoarse. I strode like I had all the confidence in the world, and then
some, over to my duffel, and tossed in a couple sheathed swords before zipping
it up.

“I don’t
think you’ll really need all these, pet.” Felix told me, his smooth baritone
burr tingling my English senses as he took the bag from me. I blinked up at
him.

“Why
not?” In my opinion, I’d rather have too much than too little. You never knew
when the blade that you strapped to your ankle out of habit could be a
potential lifesaver.

“Because
I have my own armory and you could have just borrowed mine.”

I sucked
in a shocked breath. “You would lend out your weapons?”

“You
wouldn’t?” His brow arched wryly.

I shook
my head. “Hell, no.” I turned for the stairs and began to ascend. “And I
wouldn’t borrow anyone’s either. It’d be like borrowing underwear.” I
shuddered. Even if they are washed, or practically brand new, it’s still
someone else’s underwear! Gross! For me, the same stands for weapons. If the
gun is worn to someone else’s grip or the blade balanced to someone else’s size,
the higher the risk that I’ll end up dead. And we all know how adverse I am to
dying.

Felix laughed, the tone
rich and deep, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as he followed
me up. “Are you seriously comparing borrowing a blade to borrowing underwear?”

I spun to face him. He
stopped, his eyes level with mine when I halted a couple steps up.
Blimey,
he’s tall.

“Yes. Any weapon belonging
to someone else is bound to not be as comfortable as one’s own.” I titled my
head to the side, giving him a very innocent look. “And discomfort often leads
to chafing.”

He choked out a cough.
“I’ve never had anything chafe before,” he noted.

I grinned. “Let’s swap
underwear for the trip back then?” I wagged my brows at him and he laughed
again, dipping his eyes downwards.

“Looking at you, I get the
feeling that whatever underwear you have on will cut me in half.” His eyes
sparkled like emeralds, dancing for me.

 I gave him another
innocent look. “When I’m wearing them or when you are?”
Did I just say that?

Felix shook his head.
“From angel to devil and back again.”

I did say that!
Jeepers, who is this flirty little sex fiend?

I just grinned and turned
back around. As we entered the lounge, he moved towards my other bags while I
closed up my hideaway, watching my entertainment center slide back into the
wall. I set the remote back into the stand, turned to leave, and just stopped.

On the opposite wall of my
lounge, right in the corner, was a glass cabinet. Inside it were the things
that went with me everywhere, if not in form, then in thought. Usually there
was a little light on at the top of the cabinet; highlighting the little
trinkets inside, displaying them for the delicate beauties they appeared to be.
My fingers brushed the glass before I’d even noticed I’d moved, and I stared
down at the little wood carvings. A rabbit on its hind legs, sniffing the air. A
robin on a branch, fluffing its feathers, an elk with its head cocked, and the
town inn’s cat.

Glenn made all these
for me. Taught me how to make my own. He was always so good with his hands. Rough
and strong when he needed, gentle and caressing when he wanted. His hands were
always so big compared to mine…
Oh,
Glenn…
Why did you try to save me?

“Red?” My head swung up at
the voice, breaking me from my melancholy.

“Coming,” I called,
hastily stepping away from my memories, and silently taking them with me.

The drive back to Osiris’s
house was two hours long. In Florence, no less. The irony of Vampires living in
such a hot and humid part of the world isn’t lost on me, and only emphasizes
how useless Vampire folklore and myth really is. Porcia would probably be
sunbathing in a month or so.

On the way to Summerville
to get my things, I had contented myself with just watching the light shimmer
across Felix’s skin, and he hadn’t seemed to mind me watching him. He even
glanced at me occasionally, grinning this secret little grin, the one that
hinted at his dimple, and made me want to crawl into his lap, hell with the
driving.

However, on the way back,
I wanted to badger him with questions. Make him talk. Make him distract me from
three-century-old memories haunting the back of my mind. And, okay, I’ll admit,
let me stare at him some more.

“Felix?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I see your fangs?”

He frowned and glanced at
me. “Why? You have your own.”

“Yeah. But yours are
bigger.” I paused, and then grinned. “That’s what she said.”

Felix snorted, his mouth
quirking at the corners. “You’re a bounty hunter, Red. I’m sure you’ve seen
them before.”

“I’ve seen plenty,” I
acknowledge. “But they’re always attached to pissed off, hissing vamps lunging
at my throat.” I gripped the shoulder of his biker jacket and shook him,
whining, “Pleeeeaaaassssseeeeee?”

He rolled his eyes.
“Fine.”

I released him instantly, swiveled
in my seat as much as the belt would let me, and then watched him avidly. He
stared at me, looked back at the road and sighed. His luscious lips parted and
I leaned forward, my eyes zeroing in on his canines slowly descending. Pearly
white, sharp, glinting. Menacing.

“Jeepers,” I breathed,
taking in the length. They had to be at least twice as long as mine. “How long
can they get?” I asked.

His lips curved. “That’s
what she said.”

I grinned back.

“I don’t know. Two inches
at a stretch?” He shrugged, and I gaped at him, reaching up and dragging my
finger from gum to point.

I frowned. “Hmmm…” I
probed my own canines. This is, I knew, where I differed from this Vampire. My
teeth, though sharp enough to pierce flesh, were neither as long nor as fine as
Felix’s set of fangs. My teeth, however, were more wolf, my canines elongating
both top and bottom for maximum damage. Where Felix’s teeth were more designed
to pierce and feed, mine were more suited to getting a grip and ripping the
hell out of whatever I had.

My shoulders slumped as I
dropped my hand into my lap. Felix let his fangs slide home and glanced at me. The
few times I’d taken blood, it had been messy. I wasn’t very efficient at it,
especially with my biting. I tended to look rabid, feral even, with blood all
over my face and down my throat because my bite wasn’t clean enough.

Blah.

“Let’s have a gander at
yours then.” Felix said suddenly.

I blinked at him. “What?”

His grin widened. “Your
fangs.”

I scrunched my nose. “Mine
aren’t like yours.”

“Red,” He arched a brow.
“You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. Your eyes spark but your heart beats. You
guzzled that blood like a champ. Then spat it out. And you look as innocent as
a little catholic school girl, but your potty mouth can leave even Porcia
speechless.”

“How do you know that?” I
sputtered.
I do not have potty mouth!

“I heard you!” he laughed

“When?” I squeaked. I didn’t
remember ever speaking to Porcia in anywhere near what could be considered a
potty mouth.
She’s irritating at times, yeah, but I never—

“When she was trying to
get you to wear a dress to dinner.”

Shit.

“Wasn’t it, ‘That’s not a
dress it’s a napkin and if you think I’m wearing that you can blow it right out
your arse and bathe in it’?” His imitation of my slightly northern accent—
which only comes out when I’m irate—was unnervingly spot-on and I frowned.

I thought that was
pretty mild.

I stuck my chin in the air
and haughtily replied, “Maybe.”

He laughed again, and I’d
be lying if I didn’t admit that it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach.
It was like fairies were fluttering in my tummy screaming, ‘We did that!’

“So? Are you going to show
me or not?”

I gave him a squinty,
narrow-eyed look. “Fine.” I pointed at him. “But no laughing!”

He just grinned, lean
dimples making me push out a breath. Baring my teeth like a hiss, I let my
canines, top and bottom, pop up. They didn’t slide like his.

His eyes widened. “Blimey,
pet! They’re huge!”

I grinned evilly, “The
better to eat you with, my dear.”

Felix smirked and gave me
a knowing glance at the double entendre, until I smacked his arm.

“Top and bottom?” he
asked.

“I know, right!” I
wrinkled my nose. “I can wolf-whistle something spectacular though.”

He laughed, and I think I
was becoming addicted to the sound of it. “Do you bake, too?”

“Actually, I do. Grandmother
said good cooking skills was every good wife’s necessity.” I nodded, pleased,
despite the dull ache in my heart. “A way to a man’s heart and all that.”

“Everything the legend
says and then some, eh, pet?” he said, a little wonder in his voice.

My insides turned to ice. Legendary?
More like cheap imitation. It didn’t feel legendary to watch your loved ones
die. It didn’t feel legendary to have your worst nightmare resemble a fairytale
and warped beyond recognition for decades. Everything from that day and night
was fear, blood, death and screams, which I still hear in my nightmares.

Oh, God, Glenn… why?

A cool touch on my cheek,
“Hey?”

I lifted my eyes and met
bright emeralds encircled with a dark moss. They shimmered, and I realized my
eyes were filling with tears. I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay, swallowing
repeatedly the harsh lump in my throat. My chest ached like a raw, ragged
wound, and I exhaled a silent, shaky breath.

“You okay?” Felix asked,
his eyes dark with concern.

I forced a smile, though I
knew it was wobbly. “Of course. Just thinking about maybe baking for a bunch of
Vampires.” I shrugged it off, keeping the smile in place as I lied through my
teeth, and my pain.

He smiled wryly. “I’m
pretty partial to English muffins, myself.”

Obviously, he wasn’t going
to call me on my fibbing.
Bless him.
Right then, all I wanted to do was
crawl into his lap again, but for completely different reasons from before. A
part of me missed the heady comfort of being held by someone so much stronger
than me. By someone who seemed capable of defeating even the worst of
nightmares. It was a foolish girl’s imagination, I know. But it didn’t hinder
the desire to just let myself be a woman for once.

Instead, I returned his
wry grin and slumped back into the seat. “Isn’t that because you’re English,
Felix?”

He smiled that dimpled,
winning smile, and covered my hands with one of his, giving them a squeeze. Comfort
in its simplest form.
Almost like a cuddle.

“Right you are, pet.”

Almost.

By the time we got to the
outskirts of Florence, where Osiris’s house was located, the sun was just about
to set and the warm temperature was swiftly cooling. The near-twilight hour
bathed his house, highlighting the balcony railings and arched windows, and
sending the shadows of the pillars wrapping around the bottom of the house to
stretch across the lawn like creepy, claw-like fingers. It was a stunning house
in the daylight hours, but with the sun setting and the shadows beginning to
spill forth, it looked positively haunted.

I shivered as I stepped
out of the car, heading to the trunk for my bags and trying to ignore the
spine-tingling feeling radiating from the property. Felix smiled as he handed
me my pack, taking my duffel and suitcase himself. I shut the trunk.

“Do you think I’ll be able
to get my phone back after this meeting thing?” I asked, bouncing after him
hopefully.

He chuckled, warm and
rich. “You have an obsession with getting your phone back.” He peered at me
over his shoulder. “Got someone important to call?” he asked casually, but I
saw the sharpness in his gaze and grinned, even though he didn’t answer my
question.

Master Dodge, thy name
is Felix.

“Yes. My best friend. She’ll
kill me if I don’t tell her I’ve been kidnapped by this hot Vampire guy and
give her the opportunity to lecture me on all the ways to boink him.”

His soft laughter caressed
over my skin. “Boink?” he repeated, incredulous. “Blimey, pet. What kind of
company do you keep?” He paused at the door and waited for me to squeeze past him
to open it.

“I am awesome, and
fabulous people gravitate to me. It’s a gift.” I grinned with my hand on the
door handle. “I’ll put her on speaker when she starts to lecture. You might be
able to learn something from her fabulousness.” I pushed the door open.

“Actually, I’m more
intrigued by hot Vampire guy. Let’s talk about his awesomeness.”

I laughed as we stepped
into the foyer. He set down my bags and kicked the door shut, grinning at me. I
opened my mouth to reply…

And froze.

I tilted my head to the
side with a frown, analyzing the sudden prickling heat rushing over my senses
like waves, enhancing the spine-tingles from before. If it wasn’t the house
itself, then it was something in the house. My instincts started to scream as
my gaze met Felix’s, and his answering scowl—aimed just over my shoulder—had me
turning very slowly, dread knotting my stomach until I felt like I was going to
hurl.

I sucked in a breath laced
with sunshine and sea salt as my eyes clashed with clear, crystalline blue. A
monolith of a man stood just inside the doors of Osiris’s study, in front of
the dark desk, as if he’d immediately come to his feet from the plush leather
chair when we had come through the door. The light from the lamps on the desk
lit up his unruly, curly blonde hair into a halo of gold and platinum, and only
emphasized his immense height and the width of his shoulders. Especially when
he wore an ankle-length, worn, black leather trench coat, a Rage Against the
Machine T-shirt, and black faded jeans topped off with shitkickers bigger than
some bathroom sinks. The guy had to be bordering seven feet tall, and was built
like a line-backer. Hell,
three
line-backers.

I seriously need to
redefine my expectations of ‘big’.

With a liquid grace
belying his size, the giant moved around his chair and began to prowl towards
me. And I say ‘prowl’ because no other word would describe the way he moved—like
a large, fierce animal that knew it was at the top of the food chain, sleek and
powerful. Add that to the sudden intensifying of those slaps of heat, and my
heart was kicking into overdrive. My lips parted on a shuddering gasp as I
stepped back once, twice, and again.

Flashes of blood,
sounds of snarling, iron rich in the air…pain. So much pain.

My back bumped up again
something, and suddenly I was encased in ice and anise. “Felix?” My voice was
nothing but a whisper straining past the tightness in my throat, in my lungs
and stomach, my entire body.

My instincts—hell, every
bit of common sense I owned—were screaming at me to get away from this male,
because I knew exactly what he was, and his kind just did not like me. With our
kind of history, you very rarely got me inside a room with one of these for
long. Even the contracts I took as a hunter were utterly unbending when it came
to these Immortals—they die, or I don’t do it. If I didn’t kill it, I just
plain got the hell out. I could not be forgiving. The emotion was not in me. One
wolf had ruined me for all others. No mercy.

But with Felix’s cool
presence at my back, I was reminded that I wasn’t alone, and I was protected. If
I just stayed with Felix, the giant wolf prowling at me couldn’t do a goddamned
thing without the repercussions Porcia talked about, right? I wasn’t alone. There
were people there that thought I belonged to them, and while Felix was at my
back, this giant male couldn’t do anything to me…right?

Felix lifted his hands to
my upper arms, and gripped tight, his voice whispering past my ear. “This is
Vincent,” he told me simply.

My whole body stiffened. This
was the guy they wanted to verify me? That I was what I claimed to be and not
lying through my teeth? They wanted a wolf to verify I was a wolf because a
hybrid was so obviously ridiculous?
Bastards!
Did this mean he
could
do something to me?
Shit.

“Stay calm, pet.” Felix
murmured, obviously hearing the rapid fluttering of my heart, like a panicked
butterfly in my neck, as Vincent halted several feet away. His nostrils flared
as he hissed in an inhale, looking like some rabid beast.