The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (3 page)

I
mentally shrugged. No harm in keeping an eye out.

The other
was a warning as well as a request. Immortals were going missing around the
globe; specifically individuals of unique heritage or species, and half-breeds
of unusual mixes, like me. I’d never met another Vampire-wolf hybrid since my
turning. But the email expressly noted a young female Nymph with the
fascinating—and thought to be extinct—gift of Enlivening; bringing living things
on the cusp of death back to life. A set of Gryphon twins, when Gryphons tended
to only birth one pup every two or three centuries, a Jaguar Shifter turned
Incubi, and multiple other Immortals and hybrids. The list went on.

Could
this be the suspected kidnapping Mr. Immortal from the previous emails was
wanted for? Hmm, something to ponder...or not.

I
cringed. I was steering well-clear of that one. Being a hybrid tended to make
you a target at the best of times. Being out-right hunted was no longer on my
funnest-things-to-do list. I’d been the hunter too long by then.

Trudging
through the remaining mundane requests, my mind started to wander, and somehow
ended up fixating on the tumbler and the power signature of the man in the
booth from earlier in the night. His scent was still clear and enticing in my
mind as I lifted the cool glass towards me.

I won’t
lie and say my inability to track him didn’t eat at me, because it did. A scent
like that doesn’t just disappear into thin air. Even a strong wind couldn’t
disperse something that strong; there would still be remnants on the ground.
There was also no clear sign, from what I could recall, as to
what
the
man was. Vampire? Were? Ghoul? Nymph? Could be anything. If I were gonna hazard
a guess, I’d say Vampire, but purely because of the paleness of that hand.
However, I couldn’t be sure. I’d met pale Weres from Siberia before. Skin color
doesn’t mean anything in any world. The only thing I could say about the
signature for sure was that the guy was
old.
Maybe even older than me.

Shocking.
Although…hmm…a challenge, for a change.

I can’t say
I was not looking forward to a bit of a break in the long, long line of easy
prey. The Were in me likes to hunt. Hell, so does the vamp in me, but there’s
nothing quite like the anticipation of it all. I know from experience that the
older the prey, the stronger they are and the more of a fight they put up. Oh,
my inner-duo was purring in sync with anticipation, all glowy-eyes and
fangy-grins.

So,
where the hell did he go?

Frowning
hard at my screen, not really seeing the emails anymore, I determined that I’d
look again tomorrow, probably check the bar again a little earlier. Gray said
the guy had been there the last few nights. Maybe I’d catch him, and not lose
him.

Scowling,
I inhaled one last tantalizing trace of the ice and anise aroma on the glass
before setting it away. The lingering enticement of it whirled around my mind,
and I knew it was going to follow me into my dreams. My scowl turned wicked as
my lips curved. A smoky little dream wouldn’t be a bad thing I supposed, and I
always believed one should know one’s prey. As the scent is all I knew….

 I leaned
back in my seat and extended my arms up, my shoulders and spine crunching. The
yawn that bloomed as I stretched was my single, obvious hint that some downtime
was due.
Gotta clean my chain yet…sigh.
Closing the laptop, I wandered
off to the kitchen to clean my weapons, and then to bed to rest. Hopefully, I’d
catch the sucker the next night.

The next
night, I went back to Montreux's around eleven o'clock. I dressed the part of
young little hot-thing, stinking of small-town girl, complete with ridiculously
short black skirt that sat perfectly just below my butt, unless you were
sitting down. A long sleeved black top with a neckline that plunged right down
past my cleavage to play peek-a-boo with my bra, and over the knee black socks
completed the ensemble. I was, of course, wearing my pink and black DC's.

Call me
alternative.

Lucky for
me, Gray wasn't in, so approaching the stranger wasn't gonna get me any killing
glares from a pissy barman that could blow my cover. However, Mr.
Mysterious-power-signature-lovely-smelling-dude wasn't there either. I ordered
a double white Russian with ice at the bar, and headed straight for the booth
Gray had said Mr. Mysterious always sat in, sliding into the shadowed back.

I could
instantly see why he sat here. You could see the front door, the entire bar,
the surrounding floor, and the fire exits. Clever prey.

Half of
an hour later, Mr. M turned up.

I sucked
in a sharp breath laced with the taste of anise, ice and potent power. Hot-damn,
that stuff was like a sniff of aphrodisiac. And, oh, what a surprise he was. Even
if his power-signature and anise-flavored scent hadn't preceded him, I could
have
easily
picked him out of a line-up for being supernatural. His hair
was a dark, thick, caramel-streaked sweep up from his forehead, seeming to
stick out in chunky spikes from his face in an intentionally messy style that,
I'm sure, was designed to make girls want to run their fingers through it.

Grip-me-tight-and-I'll-go-faster.

His skin was
pale like cream and just as flawlessly smooth, marred by nothing but a faint
pink blush in his cheeks. He was almost...opalescent, shimmering, making fairy
wings and pixie-dust come to mind. The fairness of it only enhanced the dark
arc of lashes that, even from the booth, I could see framed a shocking set of
bright green eyes, shadowed by the dark slashes of his brows. His nose was
straight and pointed, his cheekbones sharp, as if carved from granite, and his
jaw was lightly shadowed, square and stubborn looking. His lips were full, the
lower one slightly more so, and almost heart-shaped, even with the tense
attempt at thinning them, defining his teeth beneath the kissable flesh. And
therein lay the give-away.

Vampire
.

The
instant knowing trickled across my senses like a caress at the sight of him,
wrapping me in a cocoon of his scent, power and sheer presence. If last night’s
bounty had half-as much pull as this guy, I’d have caved to his seduction in an
instant. I felt a draw to this Vampire in the stutter of my heartbeat and the
ragged exhale of my sigh. The urge to fling myself at him like an excited mutt
dry-humping it's owner was near over-powering, and my flesh tingled once more
as it rose up in gooseflesh as if reaching for him and making me shiver.

Damn
predatory Vampires.

His tall
frame was decked out in a pair of dark blue faded jeans and a dark grey V-neck
shirt, highlighting his pale pearlescent gleam. As he shrugged his old-school
red and black leather bike jacket off his wide shoulders, I suddenly wanted one
just like it. I arched a brow at the lean, muscular lines hinted at under his
dark clothes. The bloke was cut! No doubt about it. Practically the poster-boy
for I'm-bad-and you-know-it with a whole load of
come-be-wicked-with-me-for-a-night backing it right up,  no woman could turn
that gaze down once it was trained on them. I glanced around, noticing a few
female heads were already turned, lighting this place up with a whole lot of
spicy, musky scents.

Yeah...irresistible
to women. Good thing I'm immune. Cue the self-derisive snort.

Immortals
were more inclined to be attractive to their prey. It was part of the
being-a-predator thing. Make the prey come to you, and hunting was that much
easier. I'd grown accustomed to the altered image of myself over the years,
mostly because it became more and more defined as the decades passed, the
familiar, yet unfamiliar, face staring back at me every evening in the mirror.

My
once-poker-straight, dull, red-tinted, blonde hair wasn't so flat or
unmanageable and didn't really need washing half as much for it to be glossy
and rich. Falling like temptation down my back, it curled beguilingly at the
ends in a hue of radiant dark strawberry-blonde. My skin had a pale
flawlessness, as opalescent as his, not a blemish in sight. Unless you
considered freckles a blemish, which I did.
Blah!
My lips were a glossy,
rosy hue, my lashes longer, darker, thicker, framing eyes that had once been a
pale blue but were now an unusual bright teal color. Even my body, once soft
and feminine, was now lean and supple; every curve had been enhanced for
maximum effect. Everything about me screamed 'otherworlder', whether I liked it
or not.

However,
despite my Vampire counterpart hitting front and center on my appearance, my
wolfy side was ace at camouflage. If I willed it so, my skin toned down, my
hair shined less, my eyes gleamed softer making me look more human, right down
to the scent in my skin. I smell deliciously edible and predators love me, but
I have no idea what exactly my scent is.  Alas, I cannot smell myself. I was
perfect at luring in my prey with the impression of harmlessness, and in most
males, bringing out the Neanderthal need to protect.

Mr. M's
eyes scanned the crowd as he leaned on the bar and waited for his drink. His
eyes locked on me and his booth almost instantly, and his head cocked to the
side. I tried to gauge his reaction, wondering if my immortal status screamed
at him as strongly as his did to me. His brows shot up in surprise, and then a
deep scowl tightened his handsome features.

I rolled
my eyes in the shadows.
That's it, ignore the pretty girl and get
territorial over your seat.
I'd picked his booth because I wanted to see
his reaction and get him to talk to me. I was planning on playing
small-town-girl-a-little-drunk-and-gasp!-i-can't-find-my-friends. Easy prey, it
really didn’t get much more inviting than that.

My lips
twitching with amusement, I watched him scoop up his tumbler of amber liquid
and amble through the crowd, moving with the graceful prowl of a jungle cat as
he approached the booth. He stopped before the table and looked down at me, his
bright jade gaze seeming to cut the shadows away from him. His power pulsated
against my body like the crash of waves on rock.

No, he
didn't know I was immortal, otherwise he would have reigned in his energy, not
used it to push his desires on another. As it was, if I wasn't careful, I could
drown in it.

"Can
I help you?" I asked, making my voice a little high-pitched and jittery,
adding a little southern twang. Not all-together faked on the jittery—his
energy made gooseflesh break out all over.

"Yes,"
his voice rumbled. "You can move."

Obviously,
he was never a Neanderthal. My brows shot up. Not because of what he said, but
because of his accent.

Do I
hear traces of my own British roots there? Let's see.

"I'm
sorry?" I laughed nervously, fingers clutching my glass for effect,
curbing my accent and enhancing the slight southern drawl.

"I
said, you can move."

Ding!
Ding! Ding! East-end London, if I do say so myself. I wonder if he'll call me ‘poppet’.

I shook
my head at him, all wide-eyes and lip-biting. "My friends are meeting me
here. If I move, I might lose them." I glanced past him, pretending to
look for them.

He pointed
to the next booth, "That one is vacant."

Shit.
I let my lip tremble slightly as I stared
up at him. "But they told me to wait here?" My voice was high-pitched
and breathy, like I was about to burst into tears. Nothing discomforts a more
than the threat of a weepy female, and yes, I was snickering in my head.

Sighing
loudly, he rubbed his eyes and slid into the booth, flicking his fingers at me
to move over. Staring at him in wide-eyed innocence, I scooted, trying to
inwardly shove down the instinctive urge to reach up and slide my fingers
through his hair.

"Look,
pet—"

Aww,
not poppet? And did he just double-take my legs?

"You
can sit here ‘till your friends find you." He raised a finger when I
beamed and attempted to express my girlish thanks. "Just stay quiet."

I snapped
my mouth shut and slumped as I looked away from him.
Damn, this guy is
broody.
Come on, Red, what were you expecting? Cute and cuddly?

We sat in
silence for an hour. I, keeping to character, fidgeted, sighed, and cast
curious glances his way. He, in return, seemingly stared into space, sipped his
drink, and occasionally casts irritated glances my way—or rather, down at my
bare thighs. But neither of us said anything.

I really
didn't have a clue as to how to engage in conversation with him when he'd
already stated the demands of me sitting there. If I spoke, he might just get
up and leave, and that would be a total blow-out for me. I needed to get him
out of the bar, so I could find out what he is doing in my territory. No Vampire
wanders into someone else's territory without some kind of agenda. Whether by
force or by…who am I kidding? Of course, by force, I was going to find out what
his agenda was.

Finally,
at about a quarter to one, I made a show of glancing at my watch, biting my
lip, and then tapping my empty glass with a nail, sighing dejectedly. I gave
him a furtive glance. "Um? Could you?" He looked at me, and for a
moment I just stared back at him, mouth slightly open. It wasn't my character
acting, was me. For a brief instant, I couldn’t take my eyes off his, too
engrossed in watching the intensely deep green swirl and hum as it sucked me in
like a strong current to a weak swimmer.

Hot
damn this guy is pretty! I wonder if I could mount him up and just look at him.
‘Mount him’, Red? Nice word choice.

Shuddup.

I shook
it off with a jerk. "Could you, uh, maybe, walk me to my truck?" I
cringed.

"Friends
not coming?" He asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lush mouth as
if he knew what I was thinking.

I let my
bottom lip and chin tremble and shook my head, looking down at my hands in my
lap, sniffling pathetically. Looking lost and innocent, fragile and alone —something
my pretty little face pulls off without even a hint of effort—made him sigh and
twist for his jacket.

"Come
on, pet. I'll walk you to your truck."

Pulling
on my red coat, I slid from the booth, tugging at my super-mini skirt, and
headed for the door, weaving through the mass of bodies until we got outside. The
sudden quiet left my ears ringing after listening to loud pulsing music for two
hours. My heart started to pound as I glanced at the chap striding beside me
around the block to the parking lot. He was tall. Taller than he looked from
when I had been sitting in the booth.

Jeepers,
this bloke had to be at least six-four!

Hell, he
made Gray look positively dinky.

As we
walked, I pulled up my hood and glanced at him. I'm pretty sure I saw him do a
double-take on my legs again.  I have good legs, I know. Toned and shapely from
years of walking, and then honed with immortality. Granted, the little black
skirt and over-the-knee black socks aren't my usual attire, but I have plenty
of both at home, and I liked them. His brief show of appreciation warmed my
skin, and pleased me beyond sensibility to know that I could have an effect on
him just like he did on me—however small.

The
parking lot was lit by random pools of orange light. Only about four cars
remained, scattered around, and thankfully, none near my truck. My heart was
still flying in my chest, adrenaline pumping so hard my head felt giddy from
the rush. He could probably hear it, and I hoped he was just putting my
accelerated blood flow down to being alone with him. Something, I was sure, he
was used to from women. I blinked at the irrational flare of irritation the
idea of this stranger and other women caused. I mean, he was a stranger, albeit
a pretty one.

For a
brief moment, I thanked my lucky stars that I had chosen to wear my DC's and
not some silly high-heels. Heels could seriously detriment my up-swing. His
power pulsated from his skin, so it had to be perfect. I briefly wondered if I
ever touched his pale flesh, would it shock me like a live wire.

"That's
mine." I meekly gestured to the truck and he headed over, not at all
surprised that the timid, shaky sound of my voice wasn't faked. I dropped back
slightly, letting him stride ahead.

The blood
rushing past my ears drowned out almost everything, but the wild pounding of my
heart. I dropped my arms to my sides, and casually slid my hand up the back of
my top to collect the custom-made silver, titanium and iron baton pressing
flush to my spine. A normal baton wouldn't do more than annoy an immortal, but
the silver and titanium in this one packs a bit more of a punch for our kind. Luckily,
it doesn't have much of an effect on me and was now warm from my body heat. I
knew it wouldn’t take too long.