The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (16 page)

By the
time we got to the bar again, I was frowning, my temples and sinuses beginning
to throb in protest of all the heavy scents of cologne and perfume, so
cripplingly laden with the smells of sweat, alcohol, food and hints of
cigarette smoke.

“I knew
there was a reason I avoided big crowds,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.

“I don’t
blame you.” Felix ordered drinks and gave me a wicked little smile. “To me it’s
like a buffet in here.”

I
couldn’t help it; I laughed.
Vampire humor makes me ‘LOL’.

“What a
brilliant first mission,” I muttered, taking my glass of white wine from him.
“Me with a headache from scent overload and you with hunger pains.”

“I never
have this much trouble in seedy bars,” Felix replied softly, sipping a warm
amber liquid, eyes sparkling in amusement.

“Damn the
upper-class.” I grinned, turning with my wine and letting my eyes scan the
room. So many men in suits. So many women in gowns. Old, young, dashing,
handsome, frail, grotesque, elegant, mousy, loud, quiet. It was quite the
circus, and having only dealt with Immortals for the last hundred-odd years, I
suddenly found myself wondering how I ever forgot how vile humanity was. With
all my enhanced senses, I could pick out every imperfection, from pimples and
blemishes, to ill-fitting pants and sweat patches. It made me grimace.

“So who
are we…?”

My voice
trailed off as the most divine scent drifted past my senses, momentarily
drowning out all the other aromas in the room. It was fresh like pine needles,
crisp like fresh snow. Natural and unpolluted. Nothing like the enhanced,
overwhelming poisons humans spray on themselves because their senses are so
weak. I turned my head, pretending to peer around the room, trying to find out
where the scent was coming from, because, for damn sure, it could only come
from one thing.

An
Immortal.

I latched
a hand onto Felix’s tuxedo jacket. “Can you smell that?” It was a throw-back to
my mortal days. A déjà-vu of running from Mother’s house to Grandfather’s in autumn.
Or maybe of tumbling down a leaf-strewn bank. Or paddling my feet in icy
streams. So familiar to me, and yet I could not place exactly where I’d scented
it before.

“It’s Ambrose,”
Felix murmured into my hair. “Can you pinpoint it?”

I shifted
in his casual embrace, moving along the bar, following the threadbare trail
around republicans, democrats, celebrities. I paused by the doors leading out
into the expansive gardens. “It came through from the foyer, went outside, and
came back in. I think it might be going into the next room where the food is.”

Felix
sipped his drink and turned his head towards the door. “I can’t smell my
contact. Her scent is faint everywhere, like she hasn’t been here for a while.”
His hand tightened on my waist. I think, if I wasn’t so attuned to this male, I
wouldn’t have noticed.

“You’re
worried,” I said, looking up at him.

He gave a
grim nod.

“You’re
close to her?” I asked, not entirely sure why. The tinge of jealousy was there,
I won’t deny it. My main concern was how this might affect Felix and our hunt. The
cold part of me believed that the death of a friend was the last thing we
needed in this case, since Felix already seemed emotionally involved. He didn’t
seem able to keep himself detached like Osiris could, no matter how well he
acted. The woman in me, however, didn’t want him to suffer that loss.

“She is
one of mine,” he answered simply.

I nodded
and glanced around the room, not entirely sure I wanted him to elaborate on
what that meant. “Is she still here?” Even if he hadn’t seen her, he would know
her scent at least.

“I
haven’t seen her, and the last message she left me was…” He shook his head and
glanced around the room. “I need to find her.”

“Then
let’s go snoop around.”

Felix and
I split up.

If we
were caught wandering around the mansion, my excuse was that I was looking for
a bathroom, his would be he was looking for his wife who had gone to the
bathroom. Simple enough, and simple usually works best, especially in places
with enough rooms in general to get a girl all turned around.

Bully for
me.

I trailed
the pine needles and snow scent through the halls, pausing at doors and
junctions that seemed thicker of the scent, and okay, maybe reminiscing over
those walks, tumbles and streams. I wanted to know if the familiarity of the
scent was just my memories, or something more.

Something
inside me had a horrible feeling it wasn’t a good thing, which only made me all
the more curious to find out what the scent meant. Yes, yes, I know curiosity
kills, but to be fair, after three-hundred odd years, danger seemed to be the
only thing that got my blood going.

And
deliciously dark-haired Vampires with emerald eyes. Shuddup!

I swear,
I’d just wandered past my hundredth door when I stumbled to a stop and pivoted,
my spine rigid as a hard lump formed in my gut. The pine needles and snow scent
was now saturated in something else. Something unmistakable to any Immortal. I’d
been so consumed in my thoughts and memories that I hadn’t noticed the harsh,
copper-aroma until I was at the thick of it.

Blood.

Fresh
blood.

Right
behind the door.

I lifted
my hand to the handle and noticed my fingers trembling. I clutched it into a
fist, dreading what I’d find, dreading what this meant for the mission,
dreading Felix’s reaction if it was his contact behind this door. That, more
than anything, made me hesitate.
If I just keep walking, he’d never—

“Red?” My
head jerked up at the sound of Felix’s voice at the end of the hall. His face
went instantly harsh when he saw mine, sharpening all his features. He
quickened his pace towards me, his nostrils flaring at the distinctive odor of
freshly-spilled red cells.

“Felix,
wait!”

He
grabbed the ornate gold handle and shoved past me, barreling into the room. “Natasha…”
Felix’s voice sounded thick as I hastily followed him in and shut the door. I
spun and froze.

Natasha
was dressed in a dark blue, sleeveless satin gown that went right up to her
throat and fell all the way to her ankles. The luscious color accentuated the
blonde-highlights in her hair and the alabaster quality of her skin, and made
the sickening trail of her own intestines all the more pink and aberrant. She
hung limp from the chandelier in the middle of the room by her neck, an unraveled
length of curtain tie tight about her throat and held fast to a post of the
canopied bed. A stake protruded from her motionless chest.

And she
was still alive.

Vampires
could only be killed by two ways. One was by beheading—my preferred form of
elimination. The second was titanium tipped wooden stake into the heart and
twisted. The fact that Natasha was hung and gutted with an untwisted stake in
her chest just about
screamed
torture. Ambrose had meant to cause pain.

One of
her patent blue heels lay in the giant puddle of blood below her, glossy and
surreal on the dark, expensive looking rug. And for a moment, I could only
stare at the shoe, compulsively swallowing as I fought not to vomit. How could
anyone do this to another living being? What kind of sick mind had the ability
to do this? It was torture. Pure and simple. I could not comprehend the kind of
offense that a person could suffer to condone this kind of retaliation. It was
beyond my mind-set to even…

My
God… blood… pain… screams…

Suddenly
Natasha was dropping in soft jerks, her entrails piling into a putrid, fleshy
mound the size of which would make anyone wonder how the hell it ever fit
inside her. As she slowly sprawled across the rug, across her own blood and
intestines, Felix moved to kneel beside her.

“Sire…”
Natasha whispered, blood bubbling on her lips. Her fangs were hugely elongated
with her pain, and the intense, gold light of her eyes bathed Felix’s
paler-than-usual features in a sickly yellow glow.

“Don’t
speak,” Felix commanded, smoothing the blonde and honey hair. “We’re going to
get you out of her and fixed up, okay, sweetheart? You’re safe now.”

“Sire, I
must…”

“Shhh.”
Felix coaxed, gripping the unnaturally pale hand that gripped his lapel, his
eyes darting around the room, looking for something, anything. “We’re going to
get you fixed up, Tasha. We will.”

“Must…tell
you…”

“-Don’t
speak. Just live—”

“He knew…
sire…”

“-Tasha,
please—”

“Felix,”
I softly admonished, moving slowly forward. The woman’s eyes, her eyes were a
dull, pain-filled blue, probably a bright sapphire when she was…was… I knelt
beside Felix and gripped her free hand. “Natasha. I’m Red. Do you have a
message?” I don’t know what made me interfere. Maybe it was the hunt, the need
to get answers while I could. Maybe it was to promise that this injustice and
cruelty would not go unpunished. Maybe it was to look into this woman’s eyes
and know that the ache in my heart was because she was trying to serve her sire
one more time before she passed, and he wasn’t letting her.

“I…” Her
eyes darted to me, and then to Felix. His jaw was rigid but he remained silent.
“Ambrose… knew…he knew…who I was…” Her eyes swung to me, white around the
edges. “Knows who…you are.” She swallowed and then coughed, and cried out softly
in agony.

Felix
flinched at the sound, his face a mask of horror and complete helplessness.

“Sire…Felix…”
Her grip tightened. “He will not…stop…until he is…dead.” Her eyes closed and
her teeth gritted, yet Natasha forced herself to speak. “Now…finish this.”

Felix
made a choked sound in his throat, his gaze darting down to the smooth,
blood-spattered stake protruding from her chest. Natasha gave a soft whimper,
and Felix’s jaw flexed once more as he gathered his resolve.

I didn’t
want to watch, but I couldn’t look away as he released her hand and slowly
wrapped his fist around the wood.

“Wait!”
Natasha gasped suddenly. “G…C…Logistics…buried file…look for his sire…”

“Buried
file?” I murmured, my brain already working, refusing to allow this woman’s
death to be a waste.

Natasha’s
eyes fixed on me, fever bright and determined. “Look for his sire…”

I looked
at Felix, but his eyes were fixed on the stake. Natasha’s eyes returned to his
face, and slowly she lifted her hand, brushing her fingers along his stiff jaw.

Felix
rammed in the stake and twisted.

Natasha
died whispering his name.

We buried
Natasha near the River North.

Felix
stood over the fresh dirt of his Vampire child’s grave in silence for several
hours. As dawn approached, the dull light highlighted his features in a way
that I had not been able to see in the dark. His rage was written in every
tense line of his body, every twitching, tensed muscle of his bare chest, arms
and legs. The hand that gripped the shovel was white knuckled, but he didn’t
say a word.

He hadn’t
said a word since we had wrapped Natasha up in the soiled rug and snuck out of
the mansion. Not an easy thing to do with a carpet corpse, multiple-guests, and
few unmonitored exits. In the end, it had been a case of lowering the body out
a window, and praying no one found it before we retrieved it.

I stood
in the cold dawn light and watched Felix, refusing to cry until I was alone. I
did not know Natasha, but my heart ached for the beautiful Vampire child and
her sire. There had obviously been a love between them of some kind that each
had cherished. Felix’s pain was so evident in his fury that it lashed at me,
making me clutch his tuxedo close, burying my face in his scent and wishing
there was something I could say to help.

But there
wasn’t anything I could say. Only something I could do.

At last,
Felix yanked the shovel from the ground, and moved towards me. The driver, a Vampire
named Elijah, took the shovel and set it in the fully-lined trunk of the limo
as Felix began to dress, covering up his mud-covered skin with his exquisite
tux. He’d stripped the moment Natasha was laid softly on the grass. I’d trailed
him, collecting his discarded clothing as it fell, then stood off to one side
and waited for him to finish digging her unmarked grave and saying goodbye. He had
even spent several moments just staring down at her face, her features frozen
in its perfection, turning marble hard upon death. True immortality, never to
fade.

Now, his
lashes were a dark sweep across his pale cheeks, his hair mussed, and mud
streaked his forehead and one sharp cheekbone. Without thought, I reached up to
brush the smudges away. He stilled at the touch, going even more unyielding
than before. Panic ripped through me as I realized what I had done. How could I
have been so stupid? He didn’t want me to comfort him. Why would he? I was
barely above a stranger in his eyes.

I
retracted my hand quickly and handed him his jacket, then turned for the car. I
knew he was hurting, but it made the rejection sting no less painfully. I
wanted
to offer comfort, but it had been so long since I dared to give a toss about
anyone besides myself. Maybe Jade and her brother, but all it took for them
were horror and action flicks and an unlimited supply of fattening foods.

How
the hell do you comfort a Vampire?

Sliding
into the back of the limo, I pressed myself into the door on the other side,
and kept my attention fixed on a bush outside the window. Felix sprawled into
the seat beside me and shut the door. As the car pulled away, he didn’t move,
and neither did I. We didn’t talk. And it hurt.

I hadn’t realized
how comfortable I’d become in his presence. Enough, obviously, to feel the
strain of not being able to talk as I wished. Even his presumptuous touch would
have been welcome. That self-assured, overly-confident assumption that I was
his despite the fact that neither of us had laid claim to the other.

Where
was that now? Dead. Along with Natasha.

I sucked
in a deep breath, and then exhaled the bitter thoughts. It wasn’t my place to
judge the intricate relationship between Vampire and sire. I don’t exactly have
a great example to go on, since I didn’t even know who mine were.

Clearing
my mind, I forced myself to consider the next step in the hunt. Natasha’s home
and work place, I guessed. It seemed the most logical move after her cryptic
message about buried files and sires. We would need to access her files, both
hard copy and computerized. And if they were encrypted, well, I knew someone
who just loved a challenge, especially if it’s linked to a massive organization
like G.C. Logistics.

I’d check
my iPad once back in my hotel room; see if any of my contacts came through for
me. I knew I should probably check my phone for messages too, but I’d wait to
do that when I was alone. I didn’t want to move right then, sitting next to a
scarily silent Felix was causing unnatural pangs in my chest. I would discuss
my thoughts with him and get his opinion, but it could wait till the evening. We
both needed rest, and a chance to process the night’s events alone.

Arriving
at the hotel, we both got out on our respective sides of the limo and headed
inside. The sound of my heels clicking across the foyer floor was loud in the
early morning silence. The elevator ride up was spent staring at our
reflections, the small space filling with Felix’s scent and sheer presence. The
instant the doors opened, I shot through into the corridor and high-tailed it
to my door as fast as my high-heeled feet would take me. My eyes were burning
and my throat was tight. If I didn’t get away from him right then, I was going
to burst into tears, and he didn’t need that. He didn’t need a hysterical woman
blubbering ridiculously all because she’d seen more intestines that she’d ever realized
a person could have and because he wasn’t talking to her. It was ridiculous. Completely,
utterly, irrationally ridiculous.

My teeth
dug into my lower lip, biting off the sob caught in my throat, threatening to
choke me. I was fumbling in my purse for my room card when I was suddenly
jerked back and shoved against the wall.

Felix’s
broad shoulders and narrow waist pushed into me, pinning me in place. His scent
surrounded me in a rush, making my sharp intake of breath a pallet-full of
coffee, ice and anise. His lips, oddly cool, brushed mine and made my pulse
leap frantically in my throat. My heart pounded as his head tilted, as if he
were about to kiss me, plunder and steal my breath. My eyes rolled back into my
head at the thought of being able to do nothing but grip his hair in my fists
and give myself over to it.

What a
glorious thing it would be on such a night as this.

With a
teasing nip on my lower lip, Felix pulled me back enough to hear him murmur
against my mouth, “When you wake, come find me.” Then he was gone.

Giddy and
breathless—and, I’ll admit, a little disappointed—it took me a good ten minutes
before I was able to push myself off the wall without falling straight onto my
backside. Getting into my room was a blur. I waited for the door to click shut
behind me before tossing my purse onto the bed, sliding off the small satin
jacket and giving it the same treatment before unzipping the dress, shucking it
and dragging the thing over to its bag-hanger.

I was
just maneuvering the skirts into the bag when a throat cleared behind me.

Screeching
like a banshee, I yanked the skirts to cover myself, my back to the wall, and
glared over at the darkened corner where a shadow shifted.

“Thank
you, Des.” A southern drawl murmured, just as a lamp flicked on, illuminating
the amused expression of an Alpha and the furious expression of his lieutenant.

“What the
hell
are you doing in my room?” I snarled.

Des
bristled. “Put some fucking clothes on—”

“Piss off
you he-she!” I snapped, cutting her off. “I have every right to get undressed
in my own freaking room without some pervs lurking in the shadows!”

“He-she?”
she squawked. “At least I don’t look like some high-priced whore.”

“Rather
be high-priced than cheap and easy, love.”

“Des.”
Vince inclined his head toward her. “Leave us.”

“What? No!”

“Now.”

Des’s
nostrils flared in anger, and she stormed for the door. I glared right back at
her until the door was closed. Then I snapped my gaze back to Vince, who was
uncurling from his seat and prowling toward me, igniting the air with his sea
salt and sunshine aroma, so very different from dried blood, pine needles and
anise.

I felt at
a distinct disadvantage in my provocative underwear, while he wore his
customary black rocker T, jeans and massive boots. His bare arms displayed an
array of tattoos that drew the eyes, and made me tug the dress skirts to cover
my scarred shoulder.

“Please,
continue, darlin’,” he murmured softly, and I growled in response.

“What.
Are you. Doing here?” I groused.

He
planted his hands on the wall on either side of my head, bending to look me in
the eye. I pressed myself back further, resisting the urge to examine his
tattoos.

“You left
Florence before we had a chance to speak.”

Observant
puppy.

“Really?”
I gritted. “I hadn’t noticed.”

His head
tilted in that oddly inhuman way. “You do not think we should discuss the
manner of your existence?”

“I’ve
existed for over three-hundred years without any discussion with the local Alpha
regarding the matter.”

Besides,
he was a toddler compared to me. Hello? He might as well have a bwanky.

“Probably
because he was unaware of your existence.”

“So you
are here to correct such an over-sight?”

“I need
to know where you stand in regards to a pack or clan.”

“Why?” I
asked, and his brows shot up.

“Because
no individual Vampire or Werewolf can survive without one or the other.”

I point
to my chest and gave a smug smile. “Over three-hundred years old.”

His grin
flashed wickedly, bright blue eyes glinting. “I’ve never had an older woman,
but I’m not adverse to the idea.”

I sucked
in an outraged breath. “Arrogant dog!”

“Now,
now.” He clicked his tongue. “Best not insult your new Alpha, darlin’.”

That
endearment was starting to piss me off.
Seriously!

 “
You
,”
I shoved his chest and he actually stumbled back, “are
not
my Alpha.”

“So long
as you live in my territory, I am,” he husked, his fingers tracing my scarred
shoulder.

I wanted
to bite his hand off. Instead, I just batted it away. “You’re a bit fucking
late.” I replied through elongated teeth.

“Best
start paying me fealty now then.”

“In your dreams,
Cujo,” I snapped my teeth at him before slipping under his arm and stalking
toward the bathroom.

He
chuckled. “Not a morning person?”

I
snorted. “I haven’t been to bed yet.” I kicked off my heels and dragged the
giant terry-robe toward me.

“Been frolicking
with the Vampire?” Vince growled, distinctly not as amused as he had been.

“Unless
Osiris wishes to inform you of our endeavors, I’m afraid that my frolicking is
none of your business.”

“Everything
you do in my territory is my business,” he barked.

I rolled
my eyes.
Men. They see a woman and instantly think a command will be adhered
to. Fidiots
.

“No. Everything
I do in
my
territory is
my
business. As it has been for over a
century now.”

“My pack
has held this territory for far longer than a century, darling’,” he drawled
smugly.

I snorted
again. “Great job you’re doing, seeing as you didn’t even know about my
existence until a Vampire
told
you.”

“Which is
why I intend to find out how you flew so far below our radar for so long.” His
power slapped into me, making my knees buckle until my ass hit the edge of the
bed.

Jeepers,
I’m tired.
I told
myself sternly that, if I were at full-capacity, I wouldn’t even react to his
power, let alone his mere presence.

“Jeez,
easy.” I rubbed the back of my neck, and then reached up to unpin my hair,
needing to at least cover my shoulder with the thick mass. Not to mention, I
could cover up my near-exposed breasts with it.
Mussed hair? Scars?
Underwear? Blah.
“I went undetected for so long because no one was bothering
to look.” I dropped my elbows to my knees and head into my hands, rubbing my
scalp. “Tell you what. Email me a questionnaire and I’ll reply when I get a
free moment.” I glanced up at his furious expression. “I’ll take your
application as my Alpha under consideration and get back to you when I’ve made
a decision.”

“Dammit,
female. I am your Alpha, whether you like it or not,” he snarled, prowling
towards me.

His power
slammed into me again, like waves crashing against unrelenting rock, slowly but
surely wearing it down. However, I was in no mood to be placid. I was in no
mood to be bossed around. I was tired, and hungry and soul-weary, and all I
wanted to do was shower the dye out of my hair, remove my sticky contact
lenses, and crawl into bed while the memories of Felix’s almost-kiss were still
fresh.

Instead,
I was standing in a hotel room, in a shocking display of lingerie, arguing with
a Werewolf too big for his own goddamned boots.