Cake: A Blood Nation Novel (Volume 1)

by Derekica Snake

  No. No, nononono!

  I felt that now familiar tingle in my gums where my vampire canines were beginning to emerge, and it was only through sheer force of will that I stopped them from descending all the way down. Even so, I could still feel that they were visible, hanging just a bit lower than the rest of my teeth, so I clenched my jaw shut in an attempt to hide them, and the fangs curved over my lower teeth. Concentrating, I managed to get them pulled back up so that they were just beyond my normal teeth level, and that was about as good as it was going to get.

  The human scent faded quickly from the room, as if they had been ushered a safe distance away from me, and their smell was replaced by that of another vampire, who spoke to Marcus as if he was an old acquaintance.

  “Marcus! It is always good to see you. I did not expect you to come back so soon after your last shopping spree, although I do like your business. And who is this? Is he the object of all your recent purchases?”

  I was blinking as I heard myself being talked about. My vision was returning, but it was washed out, almost like when you got your picture taken with one of those cameras that has a back flash red eye option. Yeah, though I didn’t have to worry about red eye in photos anymore because my retinas were now scorched out of my eyes. Every blink I gave revealed a reddish gold haze that burnt into my brain.

  “This is Xavier. He is my fledgling and my mate.” I got a comfort hug from Marcus.

  Oh Dear Lord, I’m going to cry.

  There was a loud crash from behind us, and Marcus tightened his hold on me, either to keep me from jumping out of my skin, or to prevent me from flashing the fangs I had just worked so hard on concealing. I could feel his chest rumble as he laughed, and a moment later I felt his hand slip down from my comfort zone to an erogenous zone. I knew he was a deviant, but I never knew how much of a pervert he was until that moment.

  “Do you mind, I can’t see!” I hissed at him as I smacked his hand away from its point of flagrant violation.

  Marcus was totally unperturbed at my chastisement. “Frederick, do you think we can have that coffee now? It seems my Little One needs it more desperately than I thought.”

  “But of course, come back to my office. You can tend him there without interruption,” this Frederick person replied. His words were spoken in a feminine sing-song way, and even though I couldn’t see him, I swear I could hear his hips swishing as he walked away from us.

  I squealed out loud when Marcus picked me up in his arms, and I held onto his neck for dear life as he moved his body first this way and then the other as he wound his way in and out through the racks of clothing I could feel brushing against me. Then I bounced in his hold as he climbed a set of stairs. And all the while I continued blinking back those bright golden mini-suns that were still flashing in my eyes.

  I’d fully expected him to drop me to my feet when he reached level flooring, but Marcus set me gently down on a couch instead, and a warmed mug was placed carefully in my hands.

  “Drink it up. It will help with the healing,” Marcus whispered to me. I sniffed at the mugs contents. Blood. My fangs began tingling again.

  “I will leave you in privacy, Marcus,” the sing-song voice said, “while I go see to the humans. After they leave, I will lock the store behind them.”

  “You will lose sales,” Marcus replied, concerned.

  “Lord Marcus, the amount that you purchase whenever you come in more than makes up for the sparse spending of the few humans who bounce through my door.” Jingle…jingle…jingle.

  “Thank you, Frederick. Please tell Darius, my driver, what you are doing though. He might find it odd if he cannot get in and could come to an unnecessary rescue at the expense of your door.”

  “Oh, for the wealth of the Ancients!” This was said with a dramatic sigh as Frederick moved to do what was asked, the keys or whatever it was he was holding continuing to make the jingling noise.

  “I value loyalty more,” Marcus shot back as he urged the mug up to my lips. “Drink,” he said to me. I found I had to, or else I was going to end up wearing the blood.

  “Of course you do, Marcus. You do not have to scrape by on meagre earnings, such as young ones like me have to,” Fredrick replied. “There is blood in the small bar fridge by the desk and a microwave is just above it if your fledgling needs more.” A bell rang somewhere in the room. “Maybe you could park your limousine in front of my store once a week, Marcus,” he continued. “It always seems that my human customers pick up when you are here. Star gazers.”

  “They are looking for a celebrity,” Marcus said dismissively. “They’ll be disappointed when they discover that it’s only me in your establishment.”

  “Don’t underestimate the power of the House of Du Bussey. Other House fledglings do come around buying after word gets out that you were here purchasing scads of a season’s wear.” Jingle.

  “How do reports of my visits get out?”

  “By word of mouth.” Jingle…jingle.

  “Whose mouth?”

  “Oh…customers…” I could hear the hesitation and evasion in his answer, and then I heard him jingle quickly down the stairs.

  “Drink it all,” Marcus barked at me, and the mug tapped my front teeth. I reached up and took the mug away from him, gifting him a scowl as I finished the drink and held out the empty vessel. He took it from me and set it on the floor, pausing for a moment before grabbing me around the waist and forcing me to lay flat on the couch, pulling me up until my shoulders were settled against the arm of it.

  “I am going to heal your vision, Xavier. It will sting, but try not to fight me,” he warned as he laid a hand on my forehead and began pressing my head backwards.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked, licking my lips nervously.

  “I’m going to make you better,” he replied simply.

  His fingers stroked my face gently along my hairline, and then they moved down to pry open one of my tightly closed eyelids. Something hot landed on my face, but most of whatever it was landed in my exposed eyeball, and I felt it start to burn. I jerked my head out of his touch, protectively covering up my hurting eye with my palms, trying to stop the serious stinging that was going on.

  I was suddenly winded as Marcus sat upon my stomach and wrenched my hands away. “Do not touch it. Let it work,” he commanded.

  “What was that shit?” I had wanted to scream the words at him, but they only came out as a whimper.

  “My saliva; It has healing properties.”

  “You spat in my eye?” Now that was uttered as a shriek.

  “Do you want to remain blind for the next six months?”

  “Just hurry up and do the other one before I get a chance to think about it,” I said, taking a couple of deep breaths, forcing myself to relax.

  The next eye stung just as badly as the first one had, and Marcus had to pin my arms to my sides with his knees to prevent me from rubbing at it. I laid there panting through the pain, trying to keep from squirming and whimpering beneath him.

  “Open,” he said, and I felt his thumb at my mouth, pulling down on my bottom lip. I obediently dropped my jaw and he ran a finger along my fangs. “Excellent. You are getting the hang of them. Eventually you should be able to prevent them from descending all together, but this is excellent progress. I couldn’t keep my fangs from dropping for at least three months when Claudius made me his fledgling.”

  He gave me a quick kiss, a mere brushing of lips actually, and then he slipped off my hips. I heard myself give a little sad sigh. What the hell? Was I actually disappointed he hadn’t deepened it?

  “Okay, my Little One, open your eyes,” he instructed. “Open your eyes and tell me how many fingers I am holding up.”

  I blinked a couple of times, squinting. Everything was still so bright. But then it began to dim slightly, and Marcus swam into focus after a couple more blinks. And then I saw the middle finger he was holding up.

  “What the fuck does that mean?” I asked, c
opying the gesture.

  “Good. You can see. I needed to make sure you were not lying. Your vision is not something to fool around with.” He had a self-satisfied, teasing, smile on his face as he folded my finger back down. “It took three whole days of treatment for me to correct your vision the first time. The suffering you endured then was more than a mere human could handle. And it physically pained me, putting you through that agony. But I knew I could give you back your sight, and so I persevered.”

  “I thought you said you could tell when I was lying,” I said as I continued blinking and wincing.

  “I can. Do you want to know what gives you away, dearest?” I nodded. “The whole right side of your face is what gives you away. Your lower lip curves ever so slightly into a sly smile. And your right nostril flares wider than the left. There is a little crease that appears at the corner of your eye, and also your pupils dilate just the tiniest bit. But it is enough for a vampire to spot. Your mother probably knew these signs as well.”

  He had been ticking one finger off with each tell, and now he’d ended up giving me the finger again.

  Ha. Ha.

  I thought back on all the times I’d been busted as a teenager. I’d had credible lies all prepared too. But both my Mom and Grandma had always seemed to know when I was lying. I’d always wondered how, and now I knew.

  “She knew because she loved you, as I love you,” Marcus said, as if reading my mind. “And just as she probably did not tolerate it, neither will I.” He kissed my forehead, lessening the threat his words implied.

  Damn it was so bright in here. Marcus caught me squinting and he began rummaging around on top of Fredrick’s desk, coming back to me with another mug of warm blood.

  “You can savor this one,” he told me as I took it from him. “Now come, bring it with you. We have plastic to burn.”

  A laugh broke from my lips. Usually I found Marcus’s way of talking so uptight and repressed. So it sounded funny to me to hear something like that come out of him.

  Marcus turned back from the stairs he was about to decend and looked at me, a bright gleam twinkling in his eyes. “I love your laughter, Xavier. You will have to do it more often,” he said.

  “Marcus?” He canted his head at my softly spoken word. “Are you sure it’s alright? I mean, if you want me in these types of clothes, I guess I should just shut up and wear them and not go looking for something else. I know I should be grateful to you for all that you’ve done but…”

  “Are you happy with the clothes I picked out for you?” he asked.

  “You know I’m not,” I guiltily admitted, noting that again he had used a turn of phase I wouldn’t ever have expected to come from him.

  “Then how will I get to hear your laughter if you are miserable?” he reasoned. “The clothes I chose are for seduction. They will still be put to good use. You will wear them when we go hunting…and if I am lucky, you will wear them occasionally and dance for me. Buy what you are comfortable with, but please, no bowling shirts or sweat pants. I do have standards.” And with that, Marcus disappeared down the stairs.

  What? Did you just…Did you just disrespect my choice of clothing?

  I made to hurry after him, but I missed the first step and almost took a complete tumble down the stairs. As it was, I managed to keep my balance, and barely kept the blood from spilling out of my mug.

  “As if I would sully my stores reputation by carrying such plebeian items!” Frederick was standing at the bottom of the stairs, muttering loudly in protest at something Marcus must have said to him. “The store is yours, Marcus, Xavier. I live only to serve. Oh, try these. They should suit his features most perfectly.”

  Marcus handed me the pair of sunglasses that Frederick had passed to him and I put them on. Oh thank God. They were like the round pair he’d given me before, but these had leather flaps that made them almost like goggles, blocking out light around the lens. It felt like my eyeballs were being encased in cooling ice and everything started looking a bit more normal.

  “Cute.” Marcus cocked his head at me.

  “Don’t you forget it,” I said, taking another sip of my drink.

  “Charming, dearest? You are trying to be charming? You do not need that skill, Little One. All you have to do is crook your little finger and the multitudes will come running to do your bidding.”

  “Yeah, right,” I snorted back at him. I didn’t know if he were kidding or being earnest.

  “Frederick, what do you think of my son?” Marcus called to the man who was standing by the cash register. Staring across at him, I saw that Frederick looked just how I thought he might. He was svelte. He was glorious. He was effeminate, with styled blond hair. And he was taller than me. Hmmmm.

  “I think that it’s too bad he is your mate,” was his answer.

  “Why do you say that?” Marcus asked as he pushed the mug up towards my mouth.

  “I shall keep my opinions to myself as you are a most loyal customer.”

  “Would you bed him?” Marcus turned to me and his chocolate brown eyes gleamed with mischief. Marcus and mischief usually meant that I wasn’t going to be sitting comfortably for a while.

  “He would be chained to my bed for a decade before I let him up. How is the blood, Xavier?” Frederick asked me.

  I was currently coughing and spluttering on it, because I had just taken a big gulp when he’d mentioned the word chains. I didn’t bother with a reply, I just settled for giving him a dirty look.

  Frederick waved a hand in the air as if delighted. “Such expressive features. You are so lucky, Marcus.”

  “See? Didn’t I tell you?” Marcus quipped at me.

  What the hell? He’d just offered me up to another bondage bunny, and he wanted me to think of it as a compliment? I settled for wiping my mouth off gruffly with my sleeve as I handed him the half-empty mug to take care of. Frederick gasped, and I thought for a moment that he was going to swoon to the floor.

  “Xavier?” Marcus pressed for a response from me. What can you say to the man who just gave you back your sight for the second time?

  “Asshole.”

  I had never liked shopping when I was alive, so I really didn’t expect it to change now that I was dead. And I was right, especially when I discovered that this was the store where Marcus had gotten all those fuck-me-now clothes and that there were racks and racks of the same type.

  Frederick hovered around Marcus, leaving me to my own devices, and I happened to find some jeans that weren’t low riders. I stood there looking at the different sizes, wondering what my size was now.

  I was reaching around the back of my pants, feeling down inside to see if there was a tag attached to them, when Frederick caught me. He pursed his lips and gave a wink, saying, “Do you require assistance?”

  My face flamed red, and I jerked my hand out of my pants, mortified that he thought I was doing something more than just checking the tag. “What size did Marcus buy for me?” I blurted.

  “A thirty-two waist, with a thirty-two leg for the pants. Small sized shirt. Would you like me to find a belt for those jeans?” The vampiric shopkeeper knew which side his bread was blooded, and while his eyes gleamed with merriment, nothing was said about what he thought he’d seen.

  “Uh…sure,” I answered, picking out a pair with a thirty-four waist, mainly because the smaller size appeared painted on and besides, the last time I bought jeans they had been a fifty-two waist, so that was still almost half my old size.

  There were some plain white tee-shirts for sale, but they were made with that same spandex cotton-something mix which meant that the small sizes would cling like plastic wrap to me.

  I had just picked out some in medium when I felt it…the unmistakable touch of someone trying to bind me. I immediately turned and glared at Marcus, but saw that he was looking down at cufflinks, and I realized then that it didn’t have his feel about it. So that meant that someone else was knocking at my chamber door and since the only other vampi
re in the place was…

  Frederick had some belts in his hands and a smile on his face as he approached me. I dropped the clothing I was holding and straight armed him in the chest. He squawked and staggered back a few steps at my assault, the selection of belts falling from his hands and hitting the floor.

  “Get out of my head,” I yelled. Frederick looked shocked as his back hit up against a circular rack.

  “Xavier?” Marcus came over from the counter in three short strides. “I’m not in your head,” he protested.

  “I know it’s not you, Marcus,” I said, reaching out and catching the front of Frederick’s shirt, getting ready to shake him. I might not be able to get away from Marcus mentally, but having some other vampire play about with me was another matter.

  “You’re purchasing goods. I would never touch you,” Frederick cried.

  I winced as the binding was tried again. It felt as if someone was raking their nails down a chalkboard as they attempted it. Hell, whenever Marcus did it, it was like getting swamped with warm water, almost like having a soothing bath surrounding you. This binding felt amateurish and brutal. Letting go of Frederick I raised my hands to my head and tore off the goggles, rubbing my temples and trying to ease the unwanted sensation.

  “Whoever it is, they’re trying again,” I groaned.

  Marcus turned and quickly scanned the room. “Frederick, do you have other vampires on staff?” he asked.

  “Humans only during the day shift,” Frederick answered, pushing himself away from the clothing rack.

  Marcus seemed to blank out for a moment, and then he turned on his heels and ran for the exit. “Stay out of the light, Xavier,” he called back to me. I just barely had time to duck behind a rack of long coats before Marcus wrenched the front door open, without undoing the lock Frederick had set. I watched him step outside, and that was all I could see before the bright light of the sun tried to blind me again.

  Frederick squawked, staring at his mangled front door. Then he turned and looked at me, his expression accusing, as if I had something to do with it. Maybe I did. Marcus had reacted because of me.