I nodded and walked back into the room. She was asleep, curled up in the chair by the fire like a caramel cat. Her soft eyelashes caught the light and glistened against her skin.
Casper hit me on the shoulder as I took an exit towards North City. “You’re thinking about her.”
I exhaled. Casper had too much connection and not enough sense to know when not to talk. “Landry would gut you.”
“I don’t mind being gutted for a good cause. The fire in her eyes was exquisite. Bakers can be far too soft and weak, but a strong one, a passionate one, even if they burn your bread, make an incomparable loaf. You haven’t had to sample regional Bakers. Landry is by far the best Baker on the continent, perhaps the world, although there is this French Baker, Eustace who is said to have the most powerful sauce if you’re infected. Has she baked for you? I can only imagine what that would be like, to have a connection with a Baker, like the C.M. and Landry, you know?”
“I know.”
“You do?” His eyes lit up as he waited for my confession.
I shrugged. “Landry had an intern once, pimply kid whose name I forget, and I had to sit and let him feed off of me and then eat his goods.” I scratched my chin. “I think that it took years for Landry and the C.M. to get it right.”
“Oh.” He sounded so disappointed that I gave him a slight smile.
“The Baker actually dislikes Butchers. She’s trying to stay away from us.”
“And you’re incentivizing the program. Nice! If you need any volunteers, I’m your man.”
I exhaled and focused on driving, on parking, on walking into the darkness with Casper beside me, him talking about the best way to deal with wraiths when I wanted so much to be alone, to go over every touch, every glance in my mind, to feel her lips on mine, even if it was only in my head, but Casper was incredibly attuned to romance, so I pushed it away and focused on the moment.
We went our separate ways at the train station. I left him to go North while I went back to Candlestick. It would be difficult to travel all the time, to have no one constant in your life, but of course, Butchers didn’t have that anyway.
I parked in the garage at Candlestick, reclined the seat and closed my eyes, finally able to remember Violetta. Her eyes, her smile, her voice, her legs, the way she looked right after she said something shocking, her lips right after she’d kissed me, soft, sweet… “Cream puffs,” I whispered.
“Why did you take my car?” The C.M.’s voice was cold and hard, and when I looked up, he stood in his dark cloak, broad hat covering his eyes and white scarf wrapped around his face.
“I didn’t want to get Casper on my leather.” My voice wasn’t respectful enough, but he’d interrupted me.
“What did you say?” he growled, shaking me once.
I shrugged off his grip. “I say that you push me around like a very young puppy.”
“Really?” he said, folding his arms and glaring at me where I sat half upright in my leather seat. “Perhaps because you are a puppy.”
“But puppies shouldn’t be in charge of so many lives. So many deaths. So many undeaths.” I gave him a hard smile. “I took Casper with me, and I took your car. If you didn’t want me to, you should have hidden the keys.”
“What’s going on with your attitude? You’ve never been resentful before.”
I laughed. “No? Well, then why would I start now? It’s not as though my life as been written out for me, every deed, every stroke. It’s not as though I’ve ever been taught to want anything else. It’s not as though I’ve been killing things far longer than I’ve done anything else.”
“It wasn’t my idea to start you so young. You broke out of the house and chased your brother into the darkness. You wouldn’t stop stealing Landry’s knives and throwing them until they were dull and you could hit anything you wanted with your eyes closed. You begged me to give you your first bottle of holy water, and that was after you’d already staked three vampires without my permission. I’ve always worried about you, not The Butcher, but you, Orion Daughtry who never wanted anything else. Now you’re transitioning into something else, something that connects, something that understands the bigger picture.”
He grabbed the back of my neck when I was going to get out of the car, held me tight, like I was a puppy and he was my master. I felt everything I didn’t want to feel, his fear, his worry, his doubts about turning me into a weapon instead of hiding me, protecting me from the darkness. “You never wanted protection, not from anybody. The only thing you wanted was a sharp knife and a target. I’m so proud of you, but I’m scared, too. The world is changing, and I can’t predict everything that’s coming. All I know is that you are the one that’s going to be hit hardest, and hurt most. I should tell you to stand strong, to trust in your faith, but I want to tell you to run away, to hide, to find a life that isn’t going to break you, like it broke Armand.”
I struggled against his grip, but I’d have to really hurt him to get his hands off of me, and even then, he was the C.M. and I wasn’t entirely sure what he could do. “I’m not my brother.”
“No, your brother never kissed a Baker.”
I gasped and tackled him down, unable to break his hold on my neck, but able to crush him against the cement. Who had told him about Violetta? “Don’t talk about her.”
He growled back at me as we struggled, two men with more ability than dozens of ordinary men, perfectly matched. “You know the dangers, but I’ll remind you since you’re quite clearly lapsing in mental facility. How close did you come to eating her?”
I bit into his shoulder, through the coat so I didn’t break skin, probably, but it made him gasp from surprise and something else.
“You don’t know how close I come to eating a lot of people.”
He struggled to stay calm, to not be thrown off by my streak of absolutely insane. “How close did she come to draining the life out of you?”
“You tell me. Wouldn’t you say not close enough?” I twisted his scarf and threw him at the same time, strangling him for a moment before I found myself flat on my back with his silver spiked boot at my throat.
“You had a lot of energy. Now you’re hovering possibly lower than that time when you were ten, with the wraiths. Do you remember that?” His face was clearly visible without the scarf and his scowl was terrifying, his temper teetering on the edge of control. I wanted to push him over that edge.
Of course I remembered. I wished I could forget wraiths feeding on me for what seemed like hours before Armand had found me and burned them all away, carrying me home to Landry who filled me with all sorts of potions until I could feel my body again.
“It’s nothing like that. Don’t compare them.” I jerked my body, but he put more weight on my throat until I stopped struggling.
“No, because she’s beautiful and sweet and vulnerable, and you need to give her your energy. However, it’s just as dangerous. More, because you aren’t going to fight her off of you.” He sighed his weight heavy on my throat. He seemed more tired than usual. “You know that it’s not done, male Butchers and female Bakers. It’s very difficult to stay balanced. This explains your lack of equilibrium.”
I grabbed his leg and twisted, but he dropped down, putting more weight on my throat until I stopped struggling because I couldn’t breathe. “You’re probably relieved that you’ve found a flaw in my behavior, an imbalance of my energy. Good. I am satisfied as well.” He was getting blurry and my voice was a whisper.
He put a hand on my shoulder, shaking his head. “No one’s saying that you are flawed, Orion. You aren’t the only one I’m worried about here. What about the girl? What happens to her when she realizes that she’s entangled with someone she doesn’t really know? What happens to you when she can’t handle the other Butchers who all want a piece of Landry’s daughter?”
I closed my eyes and relaxed. He was not my father, not the C.M. but just someone who had their boot against my throat and was threatening my Baker. I struck the
inside of his knee, twisted his ankle, and rolled up onto my shoulders, throwing him back until I balanced on my hands for a moment, my coat sliding around my head and objects falling out of pockets. Upside down felt as perfectly natural as right side up. I twisted my body and kicked him explosively before I vaulted to my feet and crouched across from where he was hanging against the side of the car, his face thoughtful, hand on his ribs where I’d kicked him.
“I’ll keep her safe from Butchers and anything else that threatens her.” I grabbed him by the front of his coat and lifted him up to my eye level. “I am her Butcher, not yours.”
He raised his eyebrows and his hands at the same time in defeat. I lowered him slowly to the ground while his smile broadened. “I’ve never been able to control you, and I’ve rarely tried, but this, it’s dangerous, dangerous but also something with unlimited potential. The stronger the connection with your Baker…”
I swallowed and backed away from him, shaking my head. I was stunned by the awkward reality that I’d fought back against the C.M. and he hadn’t flattened me. “You were holding back.”
He shrugged and opened the door to the black car I’d taken Casper in. “Was I?” He raised his eyebrows a glimmer of a smile in his eyes. “Be careful, son. So many things are riding on you.”
I went inside the house, up the stairs three floors until I got to the floor with my room. I opened the door and stared at the space, a wall rack of weapons, a wardrobe full of black clothing, a double bed with black blanket, and a black bible and a lamp on the table beside the bed. What did her room look like? She wore pink and green, that sweater… I changed quickly into clean and dry clothing before I went back down the stairs and out through a door closer than most to the pond. I would spend the rest of what was left of the night in my car, on the seat where she’d kissed me, wearing the black shirt she’d worn with a single button done.
I smiled and felt almost happy at the prospect of falling asleep to her memory and the possibility of seeing her again. Even if Violetta wouldn’t let me date her, I would see her on Monday and maybe taste her baking.
Chapter 24
The Baker
My aunt and Uncle’s house was in the suburbs, forty-five minutes from the city. When I examined the wad of cash, hoping that I had enough, I gulped when I realized that Mr. Landry had given me a bundle of fifties and hundreds. Was he insane? I groaned and handed the cabbie a fifty, waiting for my change before I turned towards the fairly large, fairly grand house. Not that it was like Orion’s house or anything, but at the same time, it felt more ostentatious because it only held my aunt and uncle and their cook, a sullen, small man who I’d only seen once taking out the trash when I’d come to visit with my dad and brother.
People with cooks. I shook my head as I walked up to the gate and pushed a buzzer. It took a few minutes before I heard my uncle’s voice.
“No solicitations.”
“It’s me, Violetta. I’ve come to visit.”
A long pause and then, “How long?”
I rolled my eyes and kicked the gate. “Just the weekend. Surprise.”
“Come in. Your Aunt isn’t here.” The gate slid open and I walked up the pavement feeling my stomach clench while I smoothed down the black skirt and vest.
He opened the door for me, tall, hollow eyed, jutting cheek-bones, like an eighties rocker without the cool hair.
“Hey, uncle Vincent. Sorry for the short notice.”
“Short notice implies that there was some notice given. Please remove your shoes. Do you have a bag?”
I kicked off the shoes and then set them in the closet, closing the door with a sigh before I gave him a smile. He frowned at me, at my skirt, top and vest.
“I was doing Cosplay,” I said, fiddling with the hem. “When is Aunt Lettie coming home?”
“Not until this weekend. You look like a Baker.” He shook his head slightly and turned towards the living room. “Sit. Tell me about what you’ve been doing.”
I perched on the edge of the couch while he frowned at me, his gaze terribly disconcerting. “I’m still staying with Chloe and working.”
“And your brother? Is he still at school?”
I nodded smoothing down the skirt which seemed a little bit too short in the company of my resolute and disinterested uncle. “Bas is doing surprisingly well with his grades. He’s even making friends.”
“At Calder?” He raised an eyebrow, skeptical before he raised a golden glass of something that might have been sherry. Aunt Lettie did not approve of drinking, and she was not home, so I must have interrupted his big binge.
I lifted my chin. “That’s right. He’s friends with Orion Daughtry.”
He choked on the tiny sip, coughing while I sat there, avoiding the impulse to go and pound on his back harder than was necessary. Finally he sat up, looking at me with eyes surprisingly sharp and curious. “Sebastian and Daughtry?” He leaned closer to me, like he could read my mind if he squinted enough. “Do you know Mr. Daughtry?”
“Mr. Daughtry? You mean Orion’s dad?”
He inhaled and put down his glass of sherry to place his large hands on his knees before openly staring at me. “Puffer!”
I jumped at the sudden shout, then again when the stumpy cook rushed in, an enormous butcher’s knife in one hand, a rolling pin in the other.
“Puffer, do you know Landry?”
He looked from me to my uncle, his face as bewildered as mine. “Landry the C.M.’s Baker?”
My uncle nodded. “Laurel was an intern with him before she married Joey. My niece is quite the Baker herself. She’s staying for the weekend, so you may as well show her around your kitchen.”
Puffer raised his eyebrows looking from my uncle to me uneasily. “Would you like that?”
I was startled by the question, that he was asking me, like it was my choice, and more, that it was his kitchen.
I shrugged and nodded. “I’d like that. I’m trying to learn strudel, but it’s kind of complicated.”
He nodded and backed out of the room. “Tomorrow we’ll do strudel. Will go nicely with the turkey roast.”
I glanced at my uncle who was staring into the small glass of golden liquid. “Would you like a drink?”
I smiled and shook my head. He was acting nice for him. Maybe he was more relaxed without my Aunt Lettie around. “Thanks, but I’m actually really tired. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He nodded and stood, impeccably mannered as I left the large beige living room and made my way up the stairs to the guest room I’d stayed in whenever my parents went away on a romantic trip without us. They’d been nicer when we were little, but then Sebastian started acting like a wild monkey all the time, and I didn’t like the way Aunt Lettie said, ‘your mother’, with her lips curled like it was a bad word.
After I got dressed in a boring, plastic wrapped pair of pajamas that they’d always kept in a drawer for guest emergencies, like they had emergency guests often, I sank into the perfectly comfortable bed, pulling the sheet up to my chin and staring at the shadows across the ceiling. I smiled as I thought of Orion, seeing him in the museum, his smile, like whatever I said or did wouldn’t be wrong, couldn’t be wrong to him. I rested my fingers on my lips and closed my eyes. His lips, his breath, his voice and the brush of his body against mine, all of it added up to the perfect moment, the perfect kiss. I closed my eyes tight, tight and rolled over, squealing into my pillow like a little girl. I’d had my first kiss with Orion Daughtry, and it had been perfect.
Chapter 25
The Butcher
The next day was spent in Mass, then contemplation before I spent hours in correspondence and organizing the next week’s rounds in the city. I had to balance surprise with consistency and make certain that Butchers weren’t left vulnerable to the renegades. Organizing groups of Butchers was quite simply the most dull and yet essential thing I did. Meetings were dull without feeling essential in the least. It was a relief to push the papers to the side o
f the circle of light from the lamp where I sat at the same table I’d carved a tree in. It felt like it belonged to me, like I’d taken it, made it mine, and would fight off all challengers, like the C.M. who I’d disrespected.
I shook my head and stretched, ready to pull on a shirt and lace my big black boots up to my knees. I armed myself and headed out into the night, grabbing a train downtown.
The night was quiet as I walked through Bordertown. Things tended to be most active from Midnight to three a.m.
I felt someone follow me, and let him, whoever it was. When a snarling wolf lunged out of the shadows to my left, I didn’t expect it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t prepared. I was always prepared for wolves. I had a silver knife in my fist at the slightest flick of my wrist and I dodged down, kicking at the creature’s throat as I slashed its side.
It was huge with a mottled muzzle, the moon shining on its hide. It bore scars on its face as it snapped and growled at me, crouching down, ready to attack again.
I smiled at it, waiting for it to come. A large black creature leapt from behind me, blocking the sudden attack of the mottled wolf. His dark fur with red tints identified him as Armand. I jumped back as the two wolves fought, claws scrabbling and teeth snapping.
Armand wasn’t as large as the newcomer who must be from out of town if Armand was putting him in his place. I shrugged and leaned against a brick wall, watching the fight passively. Armand fought like a wolf, abandoning his reason to his instincts. If he’d fought as a Butcher, he could have ended the fight at any time. As it was, he seemed to draw it out, almost as though he didn’t want to show up the other wolf.
Finally, Armand had a chokehold on the grizzled one’s throat and however he pawed and lurched, he was finished. Finally he whined, relaxed and shifted into a man.
Armand immediately backed off growling and shifted into his own form. Neither of them was naked which took some control I didn’t understand or care to.
“What’s your name?” Armand demanded, his voice a low growl that carried threat with it.
Butcher, Baker, Vampire Slayer: A Retelling of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night Page 20