“How long has it been?” Orion asked softly.
“Six months, twenty-one days, half an hour. I’d just gotten out of my placement test. I did well, really well, so of course I called her. It rang, and rang, and rang, and then someone answered it. I said hello. He didn’t say anything for a long time. Probably didn’t know what to say, but then he told me that there was an accident. He said that…” I broke off with a sob as Orion’s arms came around me. He pulled me against his chest and I let him, dropping my head against him while I cried, miserable, terrible tears that had never come in all the long months. It had felt like one of the times they’d gone on trips while we’d been in school, Sebastian and I, only this time we were home in the house, trying to figure out what to do with everything. Surely they would come back.
The lack of money was a shock. Being one of the people who couldn’t afford things like education at the top tier private university for girls’ I’d been testing for made the world drop out under my feet. I’d been drowning with Sebastian, kicking as hard as I could to keep my head above water, but then he’d left me too. He’d left me and I was still drowning, only now drowning in tears and this aching horrible knowledge that the voice, the man who’d probably come from animal control or something, was the same man who had told me that my parents were dead. He was real, and they were really gone. Everything I’d planned and hoped in my life was at an end.
I shook so hard as I cried, gripping Orion’s black shirt in my fists as I rattled from grief. I was an adult. I should stop, get it together, but I couldn’t, not until I’d shed all my tears and my body went limp and empty against him. Orion smoothed his hand over my hair, down my neck and over my back, his touch gentle as he petted me, somehow more soothing than humiliating.
“I’m okay,” I said in a rough voice as I pulled away, biting my lip and looking down at his chest. It was cold away from him. The sun had gone behind a cloud and the wind cut through my leggings and sweater.
“Okay,” he said in that same soft voice.
I grimaced. “I should have gotten a cab. I haven’t been here since the funeral. I didn’t think I’d… You must be dying to get somewhere else,” I finally said, struggling for a smile when I looked up at him.
He frowned back at me. “The botanical gardens.”
“She worked there.”
“It’s safe there. Maybe it would be good to see the things she loved. Maybe you can feel her love for you there.”
I inhaled deeply, twisting my hands before I nodded. “Maybe you could drop me off. You must have things to do.”
He sighed as he handed me a handkerchief he’d retrieved from one of his many pockets. It had the initials, L. D. in the corner. I wiped my eyes and my nose then held the handkerchief, not sure what to do with the disgusting thing. He took it out of my hand, like he didn’t mind my snot, and tucked it back in a pocket.
I cocked my head at him and couldn’t help smiling a little bit.
“What?” he asked, his eyebrows lifting slightly in an answering smile.
“I have no idea what goes on in your coat. Thank-you for the handkerchief, even if it’s doubtful it started out clean.” I grinned at him.
“It makes you happy to think that I gave you a used handkerchief?” He shook his head. “You’re difficult to read. I thought maybe you were broken for a moment, but you’re like the cracked pots that they put together with gold. More beautiful and strong after the breaking.”
I felt different tears in my eyes that didn’t make sense. I wasn’t a crier. I sniffed a little and shivered a little, and then felt warmth wrap around me as he draped his coat over my shoulders. It covered my feet as he buttoned up the top two buttons, pausing with his hands unmoving while he stared at me. I wanted to shift away from him, to hide my swollen eyes, but he only sighed.
“I thought maybe you’d kiss me if I held still.” His voice was a low murmur as he turned to stand beside me, staring at the same spot on the ground that I did.
“Kiss you? After all that crying?”
“I’m sorry. Is that insensitive?”
I glanced over at him and almost laughed then sighed. “No. I mean, you shouldn’t be interested in kissing someone who’s shown you her messy, dark side.”
He quirked his eyebrow. “That was your dark side? And mess? It cleaned up with one handkerchief. I’m a Butcher. I can handle a lot of mess, and a lot more darkness.”
His words made me shiver even though his coat was toasty warm. He walked beside me, his black jeans, black boots, black shirt with his hand in mine. He held my hand on the drive to the garden. It wasn’t long enough and when he pulled up in front of the tall glass doors, I stared at his hand, strong, warm, that I would somehow have to let go of.
A car behind us honked and I jumped, fumbling with the buttons of his coat before his hand covered mine, like he hadn’t heard the car, like he didn’t see anything besides me.
“Keep it. It’s cold today. Can you call me if you need me? If you need a friend, or a stranger,” he added with gleaming eyes.
I bit my lip and smiled while I stared at his hand, his knee, his arm so close beside me. Before I could change my mind, I leaned over and hugged him, brushing his cheek with my lips before I got out of the car and walked inside, glancing back once to see him there, watching me like he didn’t want to see me go.
Chapter 27
The Butcher
It wasn’t easy to leave her at the botanical gardens, but she needed time to think, to process her emotions, and I had to get to the bottom of the Tancetta murders which meant questioning my brother until he gave me something concrete. He waited for me where I’d left him, at the Greek’s shop where the dangerous werewolf was from earlier.
I stared at Armand where he lounged in one of the hair-cutting chairs, holding a newspaper like he was waiting for a haircut.
“You need one. You’re getting scraggly.” I walked towards him, took the newspaper out of his hands and folded it three times before I tossed it to the side. “Where do you want to do this?”
He smirked at me. “You wish I’d left her with The Greek instead of playing chaperone? I’ll remember that next time she shows up, helpless, soft-lipped and trembling, aching with emptiness.”
I clenched my jaw and then exhaled. “You want to do it here? I’m fine with that.”
“Boys, boys,” The Greek said, coming out from the back, his body rippling around him as it expanded, shifting. “I wouldn’t usually interfere in a family matter, but it happens that the sweet Baker made me muffins. If we’re fighting over her, I insist on being included.”
I clenched my fists and held myself back from the boogey with effort. “We aren’t fighting over her. She’s my Baker. You can’t even consume her baked goods without it making you sick. Did you eat the muffins?”
“I did,” Armand said, his toothy grin and twitchy eyebrows more infuriating than anything. “Two hundred of them. I know that she made them for you, but since you didn’t want them…”
“Who says I don’t want…”
“So that’s what a Baker looks like,” the werewolf said. He sat in the cage, boots crossed, watching us with amusement in his golden eyes. “I always figured they’d be bigger, more statuesque,” he said with a leer.
Armand growled at the same time I turned with my own snarl.
“She’s none of your concern,” The Greek said, his flesh rippling more rapidly. “You bit me. Fine. But the girl is off-limits.”
“I can’t even talk about her?” the grizzled werewolf asked, raising a hoary eyebrow.
“No,” we all replied with various levels of threat.
“Fine,” he said, nodding. “Wherever the three of you fight it out, I’d like to watch. I’ve never seen a boogeyman up close before.”
I glanced at The Greek and felt panic in my chest. “Why did she bake you muffins? What are you to her?”
His eyes narrowed. “Now you’re asking questions like a professional. Good. She�
�s a friend of mine. She needs a friend as much as she needs a Butcher. Armand is clearly nothing that she needs, but he eats all the leftovers, so that’s probably not worth getting upset about. So, you’re the pretty boy she’s supposed to hate but likes instead.”
I licked my lips. “She told you that she likes me?”
He nodded, his figure solidifying the longer we talked, calming him down. “Right, Armand?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t hear that part. It’s hard to hear what dinner is saying when she smells so delicious.”
“Armand,” The Greek boomed, his voice carrying force. “You have other things to talk about. You shouldn’t tease your brother. We both know you aren’t going to eat a nice human girl, much less a delicious Baker.”
We both glanced at The Greek. He made her sound too appetizing. He smiled brightly. “I only eat fast food. Isn’t that right, Armand? What about you, Butcher? Have you bit her yet?”
I growled at him before I ran a hand through my hair. “No. Sort of. I didn’t break the skin.”
Armand snarled. “You’re playing a dangerous game, brother.”
“That’s my life. Should I stop playing it, or just switch sides, like you? Tell me. Why did she run away from you? What did you do to her that scared her so much? I’ve never seen her so…broken.” I clenched my jaw while Armand’s scowl changed to concern.
“She must have remembered.”
The Greek and I both waited expectantly, but he took his time answering.
“I found the bodies of her parents. I’ve seen a lot, but never anything like that. I answered her mother’s phone when Vanilla Jasmine called. Her face was so happy, she glowed like some kind of flower in the sun, all sunflowers and daffodils, until I told her about the tiger.”
The Greek sighed, his massive chest rising and falling as he leaned over, patting my brother on the shoulder. “It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head, like he was shaking his fur, and getting rid of The Greek’s touch. “Werewolves are my responsibility. The phone, the mother’s phone had some other texts on it. I’ll show them to you.” He left the room, past the cage and the thoughtful looking werewolf.
I wanted to hit him, to hurt him, but I couldn’t distract Armand when he was finally giving me something useful. He came back with a small phone that I snatched from his fingers. I searched through the texts and found some from Sebastian, a conversation that went along the lines of her pleading with him to be sensible, and him telling her that he had to find his own path, that change was good and that it was time for new rule, new authority, a new system.
“He sounds like an overeager anarchist,” Armand growled. “Someone did a good job brainwashing the puppy.”
“Did you get the father’s phone?” I asked, scrolling down to see a message, to see Violetta’s face, her eyes alight while her lips curled into a wide smile I’d never seen on her. That smile made my chest ache.
He shook his head. “No. That was smashed beyond saving. That last message from Sebastian to his mother, it mentions something about how he didn’t want the father involved, that he should stay out of it, forget about Butcher business.”
I stared at him, and he looked back, communicating more than words could.
“I’ll take care of Tancetta,” I finally said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Will you? How? You don’t know where he’s at, do you?”
I grunted and turned to go. I stopped at the door, glancing back at the two dangerous creatures. “I don’t like it. If either of you harm her…”
“Or make her a werewolf,” Armand said with a wide grin.
“I think he considers that harm,” The Greek said mildly.
I glared at him. What was his game?
He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m just her hairstylist. I’d never harm a client.”
“You didn’t make her pay,” Armand growled.
The Greek shrugged his enormous shoulders. “I have a soft spot for fluffy sweaters. As everyone knows, Bakers are dangerous. Once they become trained, they can suck the life out of you more efficiently than a vampire. How is that not irresistibly charming?”
Armand pulled his lips back at The Greek, but I just shrugged. “He’s right. I’ve never been so hungry in my life.”
“You didn’t look terribly unhappy about it, from where I was standing,” Armand snarled.
I glared at him. “Where were you standing? It’s my privilege to sustain my Baker.”
“She doesn’t even know what she is. You can’t claim her without her agreement, and she can’t agree when she doesn’t know,” Armand objected.
I took two steps forward and fisted my hands in his shirt. “She’s having a hard time dealing with the fact that her parents were eaten by tigers.” I shook him. “I don’t think hearing about werewolves, particularly that her friend Armand is one, would ease her mind.”
He held my glance in his glowing golden eyes until he looked away, his voice low, almost how I remembered it before he changed. “She needs a friend. You saw how she reacted with the werewolf. She’s afraid of this world, of my kind. I’m not sure if she would recover if I revealed a world that has been so carefully concealed from her so long. She’s delicate.”
I studied him, uncomfortable with his tone, the way he’d sounded like he cared about a sweet human Baker that he shouldn’t feel anything about.
The Greek cleared his throat and frowned. “It’s going to come as a shock either way. She must be aware of the energy exchange between the two of you.”
I smiled at him the kind of smile that had him edging backwards. “I think she considers it my generous sex appeal.”
He raised his eyebrows. “That’s fire you’re playing with.”
“It’s a distraction that he doesn’t need right now,” Armand said in a quiet voice that lacked his customary posturing.
I studied him. Maybe he was right. I shouldn’t be fixated on cream puffs when I had an ever-growing list of catastrophes on my plate. But I was tired.
“I’ll deal with it. I’ll deal with all of it. When have I ever let you down?”
He smiled showing sharp teeth. “Me? You’re my little brother. I’m not allowed to be disappointed by you, only vice versa.”
I shook my head and left, feeling the familiar anger, disappointment, betrayal that I’d had plenty of time to resolve. I hadn’t, though. Working with him like this, it stirred emotions, but how could I resolve them? The idea that she’d been associating closely with uncontrollable monsters like my brother and the Greek terrified me, but at the same time, knowing that she’d managed to befriend so many dangerous creatures showed that she belonged in my world. With me between her and the monsters.
I drove towards the residential area, my heart pounding and a sharp hunger growing inside me. I was hunting.
I pulled up in front of Olivia’s house, turned off the car and got out. I walked across the lawn, towards the front, and opened the door, like I lived there.
I was halfway to her room when she came into the hall, her eyes flashing, furious.
When she brought out a knife, I blocked and twisted it out of her fist, pushing her back against the wall where she stared at me, her eyes widening and her mouth forming an ‘O’.
“You’re going to tell me about Tancetta.”
She blinked her eyes rapidly. “It’s not like that, Orion. I haven’t betrayed you, not the cause anyway.” She tossed her hair, lifting her chin. “I told you that we’re through. It isn’t like you to get jealous.”
I smiled. “This is not me jealous. This is me losing patience with renegade Butchers who are causing problems in my territory. Tancetta. You know that he’s been killing werewolves outside the dictates of Butcher Code. You know that he’s only one of many. Do you know who leads them? Do you know what bloodthirsty anarchist is trying to destroy everything we’ve fought for?”
“You came here as The Butcher?” She shrugged. “Fine. Just promise me that you won’t hurt
him.”
I released her and took a step back, slightly crouched, watching her carefully. “Oh, I will hurt him. After I’ve crushed this rebellion, I’m making him The Butcher after me.”
Her eyes widened, her second shock of the day. “You can’t be serious.”
“No? If you insist. Tell me the story with Tancetta. I hope you make it more interesting than his version.”
She scowled at me. “What did you do to him? I haven’t been able to find him since our last…” Her eyes widened. “You were there. It felt like you were there.”
“Now you’re just paranoid. Are you hesitating? Maybe you’ve already turned against me.” I drew a long, curved knife.
She swallowed and leaned away from me, her eyes meeting mine with a strange shock in them. “You are a heartless brute. Do you think this is the way to win my affection?”
I lifted the knife to her cheek. “No. Your affection isn’t what I want.”
I straightened and sheathed my knife then turned, walking away from her.
“Where are you going?” Her voice rose, panic lacing the words.
I paused. “You clearly don’t wish to communicate your information with your Butcher. It sounds like you’ve already given your allegiance to someone else. I’ll inform the C.M.”
“Wait.” Her feet hit the ground loudly as she chased me.
I stopped and turned to her, watching her carefully.
She tried to smile, but it came out closer to a grimace. “Come sit down. You know my mom would kill me if I got ejected from the Butchers.”
I shrugged. “I do know that. Also, that both of our mothers are attached to the idea of our alliance. It won’t happen. You’ve been petulant and willful, using our relationship to manipulate my behavior. I did everything right, but that’s not what you wanted. You wanted a tool.”
Butcher, Baker, Vampire Slayer: A Retelling of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night Page 22