The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (13 page)

Porcia’s shoulders sagged,
the disappointment heart-wrenching on her beautiful face.

Mental note: try and
swing a sitch where Porcia can get involved.

“Red, on the other hand,”
Felix went on, merciless. “Could pass for a teen, or someone in their twenties.
I can use someone with such a versatile look as she’s got.”

I arched a brow up at him,
and his mouth quirked.

“Fine,” Porcia murmured,
turned on her stool, slid to the floor, and walked out the kitchen.

My heart lurched, and I
dumped my sandwich on my plate, my stomach a knot of shame.

Frost sighed, “I’ll check
she’s okay.” And followed after Porcia.

The moment I thought no
one could hear us, I swung my stool around to Felix. “What was all that about?”
I asked.

“What?”

“That whole ‘versatile
look’ crap.” I shook my head. “Porcia could get away with it as surely as I
could.”

“Porcia doesn’t have
enough field experience,” Felix replied.

“Then give her more.”

“This hunt is too
important.”

“Are you saying she won’t
take it seriously?” I asked.

“No.”

“Are you saying she
wouldn’t be professional?”

“No.”

“Then, are you saying—“

“I’m saying,” he sharply interrupted,
“that I don’t want Porcia to see what I do.” He stared at me, unblinking, his
face void of expression.

I stared back, my face
completely blank too, though mine was more a confused blank. “I don’t understand,”
I finally admitted.

He nudged my plate again,
and I dutifully picked up my unfinished half, and took a bite, chewing as I
waited for him to answer. He sucked in a breath, held it, and then exhaled on a
flurry of words.

“I don’t want her to see
how much of a beast I can be when I’m out hunting. I don’t want her to see me
kill someone. I know what I am, I know what I can do, and I know what my job is
for Osiris. That doesn’t mean I want my position advertised to the most
impressionable in the clan.”

“You don’t want her to see
you kill someone, even if that someone is bad?” I instantly asked.

“Even if.” He scrubbed a
hand down his face. “If I have to torture for information, brutalize to get
questions answered, she’d never look at me the same way again. I know it.” His
eyes clashed with mine, and his were muted, dark, concern making them steely.

I suddenly wondered, with a
sting of jealousy, if there was something more between Felix and Porcia. From
what I’d seen, she was treated like a younger sister by both Frost and Felix. But
then, if you don’t want something known, you do it behind closed doors.

I nodded, shoving aside
the burn in my chest. “But you don’t mind me seeing that?”

“I know you’ve seen
worse.”

Ain’t that the truth
, I thought.

Then he added, softly, “I
think you’ve got some of your own darkness too.”

Blood. Pain. Screams…some
of them mine.

I cleared my throat and
looked back down at my sandwich. “The darkness is all that’s left,” I said, and
took a bite of my sandwich before I said anything more.

I finished my food in
record time, practically licking the plate, purposely keeping my mouth full and
focused on the next bite to avoid talking with Felix any longer. The evening’s
events had wrought nothing but chaos on my emotions, drudging up unwanted
memories of a time so long ago it was a wonder I still remembered it. And yet,
I could never, ever forget.

The images were
permanently engrained into my mind. Glenn’s shout of warning blurring into a
scream of such sheer pain, that I felt it all the way to my soul. The splatter
of something black and sparkling on the forest floor beneath a full moon. The
burning of breath being ripped from my lungs and my own screams of pain. Yes. Such
memories haunt.

Besides, food always
tastes so much better when someone else makes it, especially when you inhale it
to keep your mind off anything but how good it tastes. I had this horrible
feeling that if I let myself think, or feel, I’d just crack and crumble. I
needed something to distract me from my inner emotional turmoil, however
selfish that might be. The memories were always locked away, buried deep,
ignored, but never forgotten. Since being there with the coven, they’d turned
into a bad rash that was becoming increasingly aggravated by the constant
scratching.

I was starting to bleed.

So, as I followed Felix
into Osiris’s study, my focus on Chicago and a potential hunt became primary. I
let the thoughts of it consume my mind, smothering the memories under work-mode
as savagely and soundlessly as a mental pillow held tight to its face.

“So,” I chirped, faking my
enthusiasm as I took a seat before Osiris’s…uh,
new
desk, eager to
begin, even if it was about the missing Immortals. “Who are we hunting?” I set
my iPad on my lap, having retrieved it from my pack just in case I needed it. Most
people never thought to just Google people. It’s criminal how much you can find
on the internet nowadays, just by knowing what links to click.

Felix sprawled into a
chair beside mine, oddly somber, as Osiris leaned back in his chair and tapped
his lower lip with two fingers, considering me with sharp eyes. For a moment, I
didn’t think anyone was going to answer, and then Osiris’s smooth, maddeningly
calm tenor rippled over me.

“His name is Ambrose.”

You’re kidding!

I rolled my eyes at the
name. “Jeepers, that guy? What is it with you Vampires and your names?”

Felix’s brows shot up.

“Oh, come on! ‘Immortal’?
Really?”

Osiris arched a fine brow
as Felix said, “Names after recreation are important to us. Osiris is the God
of the dead. Porcia is short for Porcelain, for obvious reasons, and Frost is
named after the snow-covered land he hails from.”

“I
knew
he came
from somewhere with snow!” I beamed, then frowned, and swung my gaze to the Vampire
with his hint of a dimple. “And yours means?”

Hint-of became full-blown.
“I’m just lucky.”

I rolled my eyes again.

“Red?”

I swiveled my head to
Osiris.

“What did you mean by
‘that guy’?”

“I had an email,” I
replied, bringing up the mass request on my iPad. “The sender was anonymous,” I
handed over my iPad to Osiris, “but the request was for information and
possible apprehension, and gave a brief description of the man, but no
pictures. The email stated that any true leads would be rewarded handsomely, so
I was planning on having a look around, rounding up some contacts, calling in
some favors.” I tilted my head and said deadpan, “I want to install a Jacuzzi.”
I took the iPad back as Osiris handed it over.

“And did you?” Felix
asked.

“Install a Jacuzzi? No,
not yet. But I’ve been shopping around.”

Felix growled, “Find
anything.” He pointedly looked at me like this was no laughing matter.

Oh boy. Hunting with
Mr. Grumpy-pants was gonna be
epic
!

I gave him a saccharine
smile. “Unfortunately, no,” I said sweetly. “You see, this
really
bossy Vampire
encroached on my territory, and when I tried to kick him out, he knocked me out
twice, took me hostage and then nearly ripped all my clothes off.” Osiris made
a choking sound as I continued, “So I didn’t get a chance to do any hunting.”
My eyes narrowed. “Why
were
you in Summersville anyway?”

Felix opened his mouth to
respond but Osiris interjected.

“I’d be curious to know
who sent this mass request.” A chin tap, and then, “How long would it take for
your contacts and favors to bear fruit?”

I tilted my head in
thought. “A couple emails, a couple calls…hmm, maybe a couple days?”

Osiris nodded, and then
said to Felix, “Check in with your contact in Chicago first, and see where that
gets us.”

“Can I ask?” I glanced
between a brooding Felix and the expressionless Osiris. “Who is this guy?”

Black eyes flashed as
Osiris leaned back and removed a file from his drawer. He placed it on his
desk, and slid it across to me. I lifted it and noted instantly how light it
was. As I opened it, I understood why; there wasn’t even a picture of the guy.

“Ambrose was a non-entity
who suddenly found himself the resulting ruler of a roaming clan after his sire,
the former-ruler who then went by the name Charaka—”

Vagabond. Nice.

“—was reportedly killed. The
circumstances of the death are unusual, and many believe Ambrose killed him,
despite his rather…fervent denials.” Osiris cocked his head to one side. “In
fact, we suspect that the recent spree of Immortal assassinations—”

My head came up sharply.
“Excuse me?”

“—are orchestrated by
him.”

Immortal
assassinations? Immortals are killing their own kind? Since when in the hell
did hunting become assassinating?
At
least when I did it, the fuckers usually deserved it. You don’t make a contract
for immortality and then split when it’s time to pay up. Or go on a
blood-thirsty, murdering rampage. I’ve had that a few times.

“I’ll need a list of the
victims and any ties between them that you’ve been able to discover,” I said.

Osiris looked to Felix,
who nodded. Osiris nodded as well, and continued, “Our sources suggest that the
killings are part-revenge, and part…” Felix glanced at Osiris, who nodded after
a brief moment of silence. “Part- implementation of a new regimen of Immortal
rule.”

I waited for the
punch-line. Neither of them spoke. I frowned, my throat a knot of dread. “What
kind of rule?”

Osiris’s index finger
tapped his desk, and when he spoke, his tone was icy cold. “The kind where he
is Emperor.”

It took
just over two hours to drive from Osiris’s residence in Florence to Charleston
International Airport, and though I tried to spend that time reading over the
file on Ambrose, I found myself seriously lagging. I ended up putting the file
aside because no matter how many times I read the same line, it just wasn’t
computing. My vision was blurring and watering from my yawns. My back was
aching, and I suspected maybe a little bruised by Des’s personal introduction
of me to the wall. I’d seen the damage to said wall, and I was surprised I was
only hurting now.

By the
time we arrived in Charleston, and navigated our way to the hangar that housed
Osiris’s private jet, it was bordering on lunch time. I hadn’t slept in nearly
thirty-six hours; I was hungry, and beginning to stiffen up. It didn’t help
that Felix, who probably had been awake longer than me, was still looking
bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and breath-taking.

Blah.

Getting
out of the car proved interesting. Lots of wincing while Felix wasn’t looking,
and bitten off groans so he wouldn’t hear me either, and then cracking vertebrae
as I stretched upright. I hadn’t looked at my back since Frost had tidied me
up, and I didn’t particularly want to. The skin lacerations were healed, but
the muscular bruising was taking its sweet time. I needed food to speed along
the recovery, but I guessed sleep would suffice until then. Blood would have
made it faster, but I wasn’t particularly game for taking another sip of Felix,
however advantageous it may be.

“Red?”

I jumped
at the sound of Felix’s voice, and then grimaced at the small pang of pain it
caused. He hadn’t spoken loudly, but I was dead on my feet and hadn’t even
noticed him…shocking!

“Hmm?” I
replied. Anything more articulate was beyond my comprehension as I took the
handle of a small duffel bag from him. He’d loaned it to me for the—hopefully—short
trip. I turned for the plane as he fell in beside me, the soft
bleep
of
the Maserati’s alarm system sounding behind us.

“Vincent
wanted to speak with you before we left,” he stated calmly, and I didn’t try to
hide my grimace.

I’d managed
to dodge bumping into the big Alpha all morning, not relaxing until we were
rolling down the driveway, not releasing my breath until it was a sigh of
relief mingling with the soothing purr of Felix’s car along the highway. I
wasn’t ready to deal with him, or whatever measures and demands he wanted to
impose on me because I happened to be in
his
territory. And he would
impose them. You only had to look at Vincent and know the guy was all about
giving orders and expecting them to be adhered to that instant. Des certainly
liked to ‘how high?’ his ‘jump’.

I will
admit to spying on him though. Watching him when he was too busy arguing with
Des or discussing first impressions of me with Mark was too much a temptation
to resist. I could hold out on the pull of him only so much, keeping away from
a direct confrontation. I didn’t want to know what I would do if left alone in
his presence.

For one,
I didn’t know if I’d attack him, or
sweet Jesus on a pogo-stick
, jump
his bones! But spying I could do. I told myself repeatedly that watching the
way he prowled around a room wasn’t as intoxicating as it felt, nor that the
heat I felt wash over me while observing the way his mouth moved when he spoke
wasn’t a direct result of wondering what his lips would feel like moving over
me. Complete bollocks, obviously.

I walked
up the steps to the jet like a zombie, then shuffled inside and dropped
instantly into a plush cream leather swivel seat. I hissed in a breath at the
impact on my back that made Felix’s eyes narrow and didn’t even bother putting
my bag in the over-head compartment. Felix arched a brow as he stowed, first
his bag, and then mine. The seatbelt lights blinked on and the creamy-smooth
whir of the jet engines intensified.

“I don’t
want to talk to him.” I yawned, dragging my seatbelt around me and buckling it
in place. “It’s bad enough that I have to put up with you.” I managed a sleepy
grin before yawning again.

“I’ll
have you know, pet,” he began, taking the seat opposite me, buckling his own
belt. “I’m far better looking than that overgrown flea-bag.”

I
couldn’t help it. I laughed. “Porcia seems to find him rather dashing.”

“Yes,
well…we’ve all agreed Porcia has the mentality of an over-wrought teenage
girl.” He smiled softly, fondly, taking the sting from his words.

“Are you
saying Vincent is the poster boy for
shameless-eye-candy-for-hormonal-teenage-girls?” I asked, wriggling in my seat
with a tight expression.
Why did my back feel worse now than when I was
sitting in the car?
The plane began to haul-ass down the runway and then we
were lifting. I gritted my teeth as I twisted to watch the ground drop away. That
was my favorite part of flying. It’s why I always requested a window seat.

Felix’s
quick eyes took in every movement. “I’m saying that, for a wolf, he’s not bad.”

“Please. The
moment his name was mentioned you made a face like you’d just swallowed the
cockroach in your Bloody Mary.”

“Hey, I
said for a wolf.” He gave a regal wave of dismissal, and I grinned, then winced
and shifted. His head tilted and his gaze narrowed again. “Red?”

“Don’t!”
I snapped, before he could start babying me. “I’ll find a comfortable position
eventually.”

He rolled
his eyes. “Let me see the damage.” he said, snapping his belt free the instant
the light went off.

“No!” I
flinched back into the seat, gripping the arm as I hissed in a breath.
Jeepers
that
hurt!
I glared up at him because, let’s face it, it was his fault. He
came to his feet and flattened his hands on the broad armrests of my chair, leaning
forward until his nose was mere inches from mine. The scent of him rushed over
me, bringing to life every nerve-ending, swamping my sluggish, traitorous
hormones in ice and coffee and anise.

“Let me
see.”

“I don’t
see how this—”

“Let me
see.”

“It’s
nothing, I’ll be fi—”

“Let. Me.
See.”

“Felix.”

“Red.”
His eyes sparked with gold and I huffed.

“Fine.”

He
straightened with a small triumphant smile, and held his arm out for me to
precede him down the aisle. I glanced to the back of the plane, and saw the
sectioned off bedroom. I turned back and eyed him suspiciously, but my tired
mind couldn’t work through any of the possible tricks that might be working
through that intelligent Vampire mind. So, with a sigh and a cringe, I stood
and headed to the back of the plane.

The slats
were down on the windows, the room was shrouded in darkness, cool and obviously
made for comfort, or maybe a few private hours of uninterrupted loving.

Mile-high
club member, Red? I might be after this…

“Mirror.”
Felix’s breath puffed against my hair, brushing over my cheek. I hid my shiver
by moving away, heading for the mirror fastened tight to the wall.

I really
didn’t want to see the damage. As long as I didn’t know how bad it was, I could
pretend it wasn’t bad at all. I glanced at Felix, and his expression was stern
and expectant. I was reminded of my grandfather. He had worn that same
expression when he caught me frolicking through the woods with the boys from
town.

Yanking
my gaze back to my reflection, I started popping the buttons of my shirt, then
slid one side off my shoulders, instinctively hiding my scar. Felix sucked in a
breath as I turned and peered over my shoulder, and groaned, “Ah, bugger.” My
shoulders slumped. The damage was worse than I had thought, and I was surprised
that it didn’t hurt a whole lot worse. Black and blue smudges marred both
shoulder blades, and mottled like a tail down my spine, with purple, green and
yellow decorating the edges of it—all like some kind of Rorschach test.

“Remind
me never to get thrown into any walls by a pre-menstrual she-wolf again, ‘kay?”
I murmured, and Felix choked off a laugh as he stalked over.

“She
wasn’t pre-menstrual,” was all he said as he stood behind me, his fingers
probing and whispering over my skin, making me wince and shiver in unison. “I
would have scented it.”

Ew.

“You just
attacked her Alpha.”

“I didn’t
attack him,” I said, hearing the whiny petulance in my own voice. “I just… gave
him a little push,” I mumbled.

“Yes,
from the front door onto Osiris’s desk,” Felix wryly retorted.

“So I
don’t know my own strength.”

“Or your
temper.”

“Ow!”

“Wimp.”

I snarled
low in my throat as he continued to prod at a particularly tender part.

“Here,” he
said, coming around to face me. “My blood with help you heal.”

“No!” I
grabbed his wrist as he lifted it to his mouth, his intention to bite himself
and shove it at me blatantly apparent.

“Red, I
didn’t take you for squeamish.”

Surprisingly,
I wasn’t. I should have felt totally grossed out. It was blood, after all, some
other being’s life force. Taking it usually felt wrong on every conceivable level,
and yet, Felix was offering. All I could think about was how biting him made me
flush from head to toe with pleasure. My mind tricked over at lightning speed,
wondering what he would taste like...
Like coffee?
Like ice? Like licorice?
It made me lick my lips in preparation for his insanely decadent flavor on my
pallet.

“I’m not
being squeamish!” I snapped instead, releasing his wrist and moving away,
clenching my fists as I shunted down the wild urge to
taste him
.

“How about
just the finger then?”

“Ew! Do
you know how many germs live under your fingernails?”

He stared
at me a moment, then said, “I hate to break it to you, but you’re immortal,
pet.”

A
distinctly unfeminine sound left my lips. “Not the point.”

“What if
I washed my hands?”

“Not
going to happen.”

“I can
guarantee you will not be able to sleep with those bruises.” He pointed out to
the chairs. “You couldn’t even sit still for take-off.”

“Exhaustion
will kick in eventually.”

He
snorted this time. “Indeed, and while we’re working, your delusions could get
you hurt, or killed, because you’re too mule-headed.”

I gasped.
“I am
not
mule-headed, you trumped-up, glorified bat!”

“Rather a
trumped-up, glorified bat on his game, then a freaky little hybrid with a back
that looks like a shrink’s flash-card!”

I did my
fish-mouth routine, gaping silently, unable to find an argument, then crossed
my arms and looked away. “Fine,” I conceded with a haughty sniff. “But it’s
going to be messy.”

He paused
in the act of sliding his black and red leather biker’s jacket from his broad
frame, then shucked it the rest of the way, tossing it onto the chair. “Because
of your double-set?”

He meant
my teeth. My canines that lengthened both top and bottom like a wolf. I just
nodded. He frowned as he pulled his long-sleeved black tee off over his head. My
eyes widened for a brief moment before I saw he wore a black vest underneath,
contrasting sharply with his pale, pearl-like skin.

“Does
your saliva have the…relaxant that Vampires have?” he asked.

Relaxant.
I almost sniggered.
Try
aphrodisiac, mate!

Vampire
bites are designed to make their donor enjoy the experience, like being high on
some drug. Their saliva is euphoric. Mine has an altogether different effect. According
to my hybrid genealogy, my bite can be either painful as hell when I want, like
Weres, or the biggest turn-on this side of champagne, strawberries and Viagra.

“Something
like that.” I replied, pressing my lips together to keep from grinning. By the
time it was done, he’d have balls the color of plums!

Unable to
back out, knowing he was right, there was nothing I could say when he moved to
the bed, sat on its edge, and looked at me expectantly. “Where do you want to
bite?”

I
swallowed. “The crook of the elbow,” I replied, after several tries to find my
voice. “My bite on the wrist leaves too much damage…”

He patted
the spot beside him on the bed, and I stared at it like a cobra about to leap
up and bite my face off.

Swallowing
again, I moved to the bed, and sat down beside him. I stared down at my legs,
and noticed my hands were clenching the seams of my jeans, and I frowned at the
habit that I had driven myself so hard to stop doing. Falling in with the clan
of Vampires had certainly brought up more of my past than I liked, so why not
old habits too.

I cleared
my throat. “Are you sure about this?” I asked.

He
shrugged. “It will aid the hunt.”