Butcher, Baker, Vampire Slayer: A Retelling of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night

by Juliann Whicker

  “Hi,” I said to the cook who was still staring at me. Wasn’t it rude to stare? I turned my face against Orion’s neck and listened to his blood pumping. The sound filled my head like his energy, the words of Orion to Landry seeming strange and out of order.

  “Did she fall in the pond?”

  “That’s right.”

  “She’s a Baker?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’ve been kissing her?”

  Orion paused before he said sounding strangely formal, “Indeed. Not enough. I’m very hungry.” Those last words were a growl and then I was pulled away from him, my skin feeling cold and bereft as I found myself in the arms of the blond angel.

  Landry placed me in a large chair by the wood stove and said, “open your mouth.” I did so, and he dropped something on my tongue. It tasted acrid and sharp, but my mind started clearing almost immediately. I blinked at him, studying his face then searching for Orion where he stood, clenching and unclenching his fists, studying me with a severe expression.

  Mr. Landry turned to Orion. “Stick out your tongue.”

  Orion opened his mouth and I saw a flicker of pink before he wrinkled his nose. “Will she be all right?” His voice was such a beautiful low growl, I shivered and half rose to go to him.

  Landry pushed me back down without taking his eyes off of Orion. “She’ll be well enough, no thanks to you. Is this the Baker you were talking about? Those drops aren’t nearly enough if you’ve been kissing her.”

  Orion closed his eyes for a moment before he glared at Landry. “That’s why I’m here.”

  Landry grumbled before he turned to a cabinet and rifled through it until he found a bottle that he shoved at Orion before turning to get some hot water from the stove.

  Orion shook a couple of large pink lozenges into his hand and swallowed them gagging slightly.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Mostly dried polar bear placenta, but also some seal liver and mango,” Landry answered as he broke some slender green sticks into a cup. “You’re already feeling better. Before you know it, you won’t be entirely delirious.

  Orion grinned at me. “Mango can be slightly unsettling.”

  I smiled back at him and sort of basked in that sunshine smile. “I wonder what was in the dropper.”

  “Fish liver oil and oregano,” Landry answered as he poured hot water over the herbs and then handed me the cup. “It also has a few other things like dried horsetail and dried and powdered hippo ears.”

  I laughed as I took the cup in my hands. “So that’s why it tasted so delicious. All it needed was chocolate.” I glanced at Orion and felt embarrassed for some reason. Oh. I’d said all that stuff to him about him being my chocolate man. Had I? Maybe I’d imagined it. I must have. Anything else was completely insane.

  Mr. Landry frowned at me. “Chocolate? Has Orion given you chocolate?”

  I stared at him and then leaned forward, studying his pale green eyes. “He is my chocolate. I like your kitchen. It’s not your usual twenty-first century kitchen.”

  “Indeed. I’m going to have a conversation with Orion in the other room while you sit here close to the fire and drink your tea. Don’t worry, no polar bear placenta in that.” He tightened the blanket around me, and urged me to take the first sip of the warm and slightly bitter drink. Mr. Landry went into a room past the dead animals. I couldn’t see much through the large doorway as I craned my head around other than a glimpse of a wooden barrel and a stack of boxes.

  “I’ll be right back,” Orion said, sliding his hands over my shoulders, the feel of him making me relax, settle into the chair that was faced towards the cook stove before he withdrew and followed the Baker. I watched the flames through the glass door while the voices rose and fell behind me.

  I felt strangely at home. I couldn’t make out their words, but Orion’s strong, low voice was as lulling as the flames that leapt and danced in the cookstove. Even Landry’s voice soothed me. My lids grew heavy as I grew warm, feeling safe and loved.

  “Orion said that you bake.” Mr. Landry’s loud voice woke me up, out of my doze.

  I blinked sleepily at the blond man standing across the room. He drew a knife from the rows of glittering blades hanging on magnetic strips.

  “It’s a hobby,” I said, stretching my toes out towards the warm stove. They weren’t frozen anymore, but the heat felt very nice.

  Landry threw the gleaming knife at me. Orion lunged forward, faster than lighting to intercept the blade. I gasped and I stared at him, my mouth hanging open as he walked across the kitchen towards the rabbit. Having a knife thrown at me was better than an alarm clock. I was very awake, and thinking thoughts that weren’t quite as crazy as before. Everything after falling into the pond seemed like a dream, but when I furtively opened my blanket to check, I was wearing a black shirt that only had one button fastened along with my still damp underwear.

  I looked up and saw Orion skinning the rabbit, peeling back the fur and revealing red muscles and white bone beneath the soft exterior while angelic Mr. Landry moved like a dancer from a cascade of flour on the table to a tub of butter, tub as in wooden bucket that smelled like hundreds of years of cows.

  He made pie crusts while Orion did Butcher duty on the rabbit. I tried to think, but everything seemed so surreal. How had I gotten here? Orion had carried me, wrapped in a blanket, the same wool blanket still wrapped around me. I needed to talk to Orion, alone, to have him explain to me exactly what this place was, who Landry was, and what we were. I watched Orion, the way he moved, watched him eat and felt a pang, that he was eating Landry’s biscuits instead of mine, but that was insane. I wanted to bake with Landry, to push him aside and sink my hands into dough while Orion watched me, stood behind me with his hands on my arms, my waist, his skin on mine.

  He was slicing the rabbit into fine slivers when he looked up at me, almost as though he knew what I was thinking. He blinked and looked down and I followed his gaze and saw blood, fresh blood from him. He’d cut himself.

  I sprang out of the chair, losing the blanket as I grabbed a towel from the counter and wrapped it around his finger, putting pressure on the cut, staring at his hand, ignoring the way he felt, so close to me, his breath against my forehead.

  I felt Landry’s hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged him off.

  “Violetta, I can take care of this.”

  I barely glanced at Landry. “No. I am taking care of him.”

  He stared at me, searching my eyes until he shrugged. “Fine. To stop the bleeding, apply oil or powdered helichrysum, which I have, right here.”

  I took a small bottle and unscrewed it with my teeth because I wasn’t taking pressure off the wound. I tasted the disgusting oil on my lips, but at the same time, it resonated with me. Yes. This would work for Orion. I took off the towel and sprinkled the cut liberally with the oil.

  “You’ll need to cleanse the wound.”

  I pulled Orion over to the sink, an enormous, black creature that meekly let me lead him around, then scrubbed out the cut, which made it bleed more, but Orion didn’t wince, didn’t complain as his hand was in mine, hot water streaming over us, pink splashing the bottom of the sink.

  “This is unicorn hoof and zebra tail mixed with jellyfish venom.” Landry held out a jar of cream for me to smell. I sniffed it and reluctantly turned off the water because that was right as well.

  I applied the cream liberally and then wrapped his hand with the clean bandage Landry supplied, like he was my nurse and I was the doctor. It was insane and stupid, but so was everything else that had happened since my parents had died.

  I gasped and my knees gave out.

  Orion caught me and carried me back to the chair. He sat down and held me on his lap, wrapping the blanket around me while I tried not to look directly at him, because I knew that if I saw one shred of sympathy in those eyes, I would cry, and I would never stop.

  I curled and uncurled my hands in the scratchy blanket
while Orion rubbed my back, through the shirt and the blanket, enough contact that I knew he was there for me, but not so much that I had to taste him, had to have more.

  Mr. Landry ignored us, instead finishing his baking. Before long, the rabbit was sautéing over flame in a copper pot. The smell of garlic and thyme mixed with shallots and mushrooms. I glanced up and watched Mr. Landry with fascination. In no time at all, six rabbit pies were tucked in the oven while he made it all look effortless and beautiful.

  Little by little, the horrible grief eased away and I was left curled up in Orion’s lap in front of the fire like a housecat. He was even petting me. I glanced up at Orion, forcing myself to hold his gaze and not look away.

  He raised his eyebrows, like there was nothing weird about any of this and he was just waiting for me to say what was bothering me.

  “Does your hand hurt?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “Not even a little bit. Are you still cold?”

  I shook my head and sighed because I was wearing his shirt and my clothes were still wet in his trunk and my backpack with my Calder boy’s suit in it was still in the cloakroom at the museum.

  “What time does the museum close?”

  “Five.” His lips curved in a slight smile. “Did you want to go back to the fourth floor? We could break in if you’d like.”

  “Orion!” Mr. Landry’s voice was like a whip, but Orion didn’t flinch or look up at him. His gaze was focused solely on me.

  I had to get it together. I fidgeted, needing to get out of his lap but at the same time, not wanting to stop soaking in his warmth. I took a deep breath and slid off of him, holding the blanket tightly around my shoulders. The floor was cold under my feet, but not like the pond or anything.

  “I’ve got to get going.”

  “Where are you staying?” Mr. Landry asked, his eyebrows lowering in concern, or disapproval, I wasn’t sure which.

  “I’m staying with my aunt and uncle, the Vespetti’s. Mr. Landry, do you mind if I called a cab? I need to get back.” Not that I could pay for a cab, not with my backpack in the museum. I bit my lip and glanced up at Landry, refusing to look at Orion. “Do you have a few dollars that I can borrow? I left my bag in the museum.”

  “Violetta,” Orion growled, grabbing for my hand, but I tucked my hands under my arms and refused to look at him.

  “Of course,” Landry said with a broad smile and immediately pulled a wad of cash out of jar on the counter. He pushed the money at me and guided me away from Orion, towards an old phone hanging on the wall. “Do you know the number for the cab?”

  I nodded.

  “Good. Orion, go get her some pants. Now, before I call the C.M.”

  I glanced over my shoulder, my hand on the phone and saw Orion watching me, his face strangely without emotion, but thoughtful, calculating actually, like he was thinking through his options and deciding on the best strategy. I wasn’t sure I liked being a strategy. I turned back to the phone and called a cab.

  Mr. Landry sighed and smiled at me, his pale green eyes lighting up when he smiled. “I didn’t think that Orion would ever leave. You’ve definitely made an impression. He’s always been too serious, too hard. He needs some softness in his life.”

  I blinked up at him, and opened my mouth to say something but then the cab company answered and I gave them the address, repeating after Mr. Landry. When I hung up, Orion wasn’t back yet.

  I asked the blond angel, “have you known Orion long?”

  He smiled ruefully. “His whole life, and most of his father’s as well. I’m Orion’s father’s Baker.”

  I nodded and smiled, but the way he said it, like it held some kind of vast significance made me wonder if he was more than just a Baker. “Honestly, I don’t understand. You say that like he’s your family, not your employer.”

  Mr. Landry laughed. He had a loud, warm laugh that reminded me of my Sebastian somehow. Maybe it was just the eyes. “We are like brothers. We were in the same gang together in our youth. Would you like to see the tattoo?” He rolled up his sleeve and showed me his upper arm, a butcher’s knife crossing a rolling pin with a circle of flame around it.

  I stared at the tattoo and then up at him. He was still smiling, so I started laughing. “That’s really funny. I mean, a rolling pin gang? That’s kind of hilarious.”

  His smile faded and he studied me before he grinned widely. “We were an odd pair to be sure. At the same time, don’t underestimate a rolling pin in a fight. A good marble one can do as much damage or more than a sharp butcher’s knife. Isn’t that right, Orion?”

  I turned and saw him, standing across the room, his eyes on me, then to Mr. Landry and back to me. “That’s right. I brought you some clothing, but it’s a little bit weird.” He held up a white blouse and black skirt.

  Landry inhaled sharply. “Where did you find that?”

  Orion shrugged. “In the odds and ends room. There’s all sorts of things there, left over the years. Violetta, you don’t need to call a cab. I would be more than happy to drive you wherever you need to go.”

  “Actually, Orion, don’t you have a meeting you’re supposed to be at?”

  Orion stiffened and closed his eyes, running a hand through his loose hair. “A meeting. Yes, I do.”

  “And if you don’t go to that meeting, your father will find you and ask you why you couldn’t make it. You’ll be late if you hurry, but you can blame it on… car trouble.”

  Orion stared at Mr. Landry, raising one dark eyebrow before he turned to look at me. “Your clothes…”

  “Give them to my brother when you get the chance. It’s fine. It was nice to meet you, by the way.” I turned to Mr. Landry. “Would you show me to the door where the cab will be?”

  “I’ll do that,” Orion said, taking my arm in his hand and pulling me out of the kitchen.

  “I think the girl should get dressed and then examine my ingredients. It will take the cab some time to get here.”

  Orion stopped and glanced down at me, his eyes falling to my mouth. I could practically taste him. Energy hummed between us and it almost hurt me to be so close to him without closing the distance.

  He nodded, slowly. “You should see Landry’s ingredients.”

  I bit my bottom lip and felt his teeth for a moment before I inhaled sharply and tried to smile. “Sure. Show me the serious ingredients.”

  First, he showed me a small bathroom off the kitchen with a beautiful stained glass above the toilet where I changed into the white blouse and black skirt with a snug vest over it. I felt a little bit like a manga character when I saw the ribbon that I knew was supposed to go around my neck. I shrugged and tied it into a bow and then pulled on the warm knee socks and the black Mary-Jane’s. The entire outfit fit perfectly. I smiled as I opened the door and then Orion slid his hand in mine and Mr. Landry gestured into the room beyond the dead animals, with the stacks of boxes and barrels.

  It was a little chilly with even more herbs drying from the ceiling as well as potatoes, carrots, and bulbs of garlic everywhere. An enormous ancient wooden cupboard with various small drawers filled one wall against stone that probably kept it nice and cool.

  “Powdered zebra hooves,” Mr. Landry said, opening a drawer and taking a pinch of powder between his thumb and forefinger.

  I leaned forward and inhaled. The smell of sand, dust, but also something slightly acrid filled my senses. I pulled back and looked at him feeling a bizarre urge to put powdered zebra hooves in a batch of muffins.

  “It’s not a spice, so what’s the point of it?” I asked, leaning to peer into the depths of the drawer.

  “Baking is more than adding spice to cake,” he said slamming the drawer so a little puff of gray dust lingered in the air.

  I watched him leave the room, abandoning me with the drawers. I opened and inhaled the contents of each drawer. Each one had a different scent, a different feel, but only two of them were what I needed. That was powdered zebra hooves and another pow
der that was silky in my fingers. I reached out and pulled the curved metal pull.

  “What should I put this in?”

  Orion handed me two square metal tins with hinges on one side, like a mint box. I scooped the powder into the box and carefully shook off the excess before I closed the lid, shut the drawer and smiled at Orion.

  “This is the strangest place I’ve ever been. The whole thing is like cosplay.” I tugged on the collar of his black, long coat. “I can’t decide if you’re a vampire or a butler.”

  He raised his eyebrow. “Those are my only options?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose you could be rich guy in a rolling pin gang, but I don’t know that Anime.”

  He smiled broadly before he leaned closer, taking my hands in his, sliding his thumb against my palm. “Anime? I’m so glad that you mentioned it. I rely on you to broaden my horizons.”

  Mr. Landry barked at us. “The cab is going to be here soon, Orion. Take Miss Tancetta to the side door. The front guard will direct it there.”

  “Of course, Landry. Whatever you say, Landry.”

  Orion grinned at me when we were out of the kitchen, in a cold, stone hall with ceilings twenty feet tall and big, medieval looking chandeliers with real candles in them. His hand tightened on mine as we walked.

  “So, you grew up here?”

  He inhaled and his smile faded for a moment before he shrugged. “More or less. Landry liked you. He doesn’t like very many people.” He studied my lips with his suddenly more chocolate than brown eyes.

  I swallowed hard as I tried to keep my focus on his eyes instead of his lips. When would I see him again as Violetta, when I was a girl that could kiss him? I shouldn’t see him again, not when everything was so crazy, not when I forgot everything when he touched me. “He throws knives at everyone he likes? How exciting.”

  He frowned at me, his dark eyebrows coming down over his eyes reminding me of the guy from school, the one who I could never kiss, because I was a male there. I didn’t want to go back to being my brother, to scowling at him and only brushing against him casually, a few times a week and never like this, holding hands, sitting in his lap, having him stare at my mouth like he was going to kiss me at any moment.