The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals

by Cara Villar

  “It’s late,” was her negligent response.

  I scowled. That’s all anyone had said.

  The room I stood in was distinctly Porcia, or what I imagined her to be —pastel hues, silk and lace. Her furniture, from four-poster bed, to vanity case, to walk-in wardrobe, was white and antique-ish looking with flowers engraved in sections. They were quaint and girlish, and I hoped my room for the night wasn’t anything like it.

  Everything screamed pretty-little-innocent-spoilt-rich-girl-brat with the overwhelming scent of I-bathe-in-roses-and-champagne perfuming the air. I don’t think it was any kind of air-freshener or even perfume. I think it was just her…much like Felix’s clean, spicy scent. I wonder what his room looks like. The room was also oppressively hot after the chill of standing on the balcony, but I soon forgot it when I saw what Porcia had found for me.

  Deep, green silk, like the moon on the sea at night, shimmered in the false light of her lamps. I stared wide-eyed at the little camisole and shorts, the top she held up by its thin straps to show off the lace detailing across the chest, the shorts styled similarly lying on the bed. It was the tiniest set of pajamas I had ever seen. Especially, when compared to my baggy pajama bottoms and tank tops. For a moment, the idea of sleeping in the scrap of skimpy slinky, sounded totally preposterous. My mind went instantly through all the ways in which you could not fight an intruder in such garments.

  “What the hell is that?” I squeaked.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s nightwear, silly. You wear it to bed.” She smiled, grabbing the shorts and tossing the silky, satiny garments at me.

  Fumbling for the scraps, my brows in my hairline, I said, “You sleep in this?”

  It shows so-o-o much!

  She gave a wicked little laugh. “No, I do not sleep in them.”

  I swallowed, making a face. Did I really want to sleep in something that Porcia wore to be…wicked? Although, to be fair, I also doubted she even wore it long enough to do any wicked things in.

  “I’m sure,” she said softly, waltzing towards me, “that Felix will like it.” She eyed me intently, and I frowned in confusion.

  What does it matter if Felix liked it? He isn’t wearing it. I am! And, I find it highly unlikely that I’ll go wandering around the house with nothing but this on. In which case, the only time he’d see it is if—

  “Porcia!” I spluttered in shock, face instantly burning from chest bone to hairline and radiating out from my ears. Felix would only see me wearing that if we were in the same bedroom!

  She just giggled at my severe coloring, appreciating my blush because, as a Vampire, she didn’t.

  Blah.

  “Oh, Red, you’re so…”

  “British?” I offered.

  “Human.” She patted my arm, and turned back to her walk-in wardrobe. And no, I really wasn’t surprised she had one when I saw it. “You’ve probably killed more people in your short life than I have ever contemplated killing in mine, and yet you blush and stutter at the thought of,” she spun and leaned against the door, her expression back to perfectly wicked as she purred, “men.” She disappeared into the closet.

  Trying not to scowl, though not entirely sure I pulled it off, I turned away to look through the clothes on the bed, aiming for indifference. She was right, though. To say that my experience with men was limited would be the understatement of the…well, ever. I’d been with no one since I was human.

  Oh God! Can my virginity grow back?

  “I don’t find them particularly useful. From what I can see, all they do is bark orders, scowl, fart inappropriately and occasionally scratch themselves and then sniff their fingers afterwards,” I said, my tone as deadpan as my expression.

  “Oh honey.” Porcia’s voice had the ringing tones of mirth. “Immortal males don’t fart, scratch or smell.” Her tone went quiet, and she suddenly appeared back in the doorway, staring at me intently, eyes wide.

  “What?” I asked, fighting not to squirm. Jeepers, I’ve never felt so uncomfortable so many times in ten minutes!

  Porcia’s lips parted, and her expression became one of shock.

  I rolled my eyes and planted my hands on my hips. “What, Porcia?” Surprisingly, her lack of words was really quite horrifying. I got the impression it didn’t happen often, which meant whatever she’d just realized would probably make me blush again.

  Then she spoke. “You…. You’ve never been with an Immortal male before!”

  Cue the blushing.

  “You’re an Immortal virgin!”

  Oh. My. God. “No I’m not!” I almost stomped my foot. “I’m not a virgin.”

  “Not a virgin, virgin,” She smiled a bright sunny smile. “An Immortal virgin. Oh,” her smile turned almost smug. “Wait till Felix hears about this.”

  I wonder if I could pass out from all the blood rushing back and forth between my body and my face.

  “What does he have to do with this? Why does he even have to know?” The very idea of Porcia discussing my non-existent sex-life with the Vampire who’d knocked me out twice and then wrestled me nearly naked really didn’t appeal. In the slightest. Like, ever.

  Porcia just looked at me as if I was an alien who had just landed on this planet. And technically, I was an alien who had just landed on her planet.

  “Because he claimed you, of course.”

  Cue speech bubble filled with question marks.

  “Well, what does that mean?” I snapped, flinging my arms out. Seriously, patience only goes so far. “What am I? Lost property or something!”

  “In a sense.” She conceded, and then smiled. “You are Vampire with no coven, so he’s claimed you, bringing you into our family. You are officially under his protection, and therefore, the rest of the coven. That way, no one will be able to hurt you without just retaliation from us. All you need to do to be officially integrated into our clan is to take the blood oath with him or Osiris.” She shrugged like it was all so obvious.

  I just stared at her blankly. Felix had, in all intents and purposes, taken a flight risk with me. He didn’t know who I was, what I was like, what I’d done, where I’d been or even where I was going—if anywhere. I could take him for everything he had and then hit the road, never to be seen again. What was stopping me? I had no loyalties there.

  Except…except, because of Felix, I felt like I did.

  “So, I’m a pledge.” I frowned, and Porcia smiled winningly. “But…. Why? Why would he do that?” I frowned harder in consternation. “He doesn’t even know me.”

  Bloody Vampire.

  Porcia gave me another knowing smile, and was just opening her mouth to answer when I held up my hand. “You know what? Don’t tell me. I’ve had all the revelations I can take today.” I turned my back, and walked into the bathroom, leaving her standing there. She didn’t say anything as I shut the door, just gave a heavy, sad sigh. Thank God. I didn’t want any more weight on my shoulders, put there so callously by someone who didn’t consider it weighty at all.

  I’d lived over two centuries caring for no one but myself, living with only the consequences of my actions being laid at my own feet. If I made a dodgy deal, that was me. If I lost a bounty, that was me. If I killed the wrong person, that was me.

  Now, if I attracted the wrong attention, it is on this coven. Now, if I deal with the wrong person, it falls to these people as well. Now, if I kill, retaliation isn’t on one sole person, but on many.

  I couldn’t deal with that kind of pressure, and as the ramifications started to become more and more focused in my mind, I began to regret what I had agreed to with Felix. My own actions were no longer my own. They were dictated by rules that I didn’t even know, and probably wouldn’t know about until I broke one.

  I stared at my reflection, at the dark strawberry blonde hair and smattering of freckles, the multiple hoops lining my left ear and the odd piercing or two in my right, the small nose that turned up slightly at the end and the lips that, in my opinion, were not wide
enough to be so big. I stared into the teal eyes of this woman and wondered who she was, because for sure she couldn’t be me. I’d been coasting through my existence for so long, living a life by any means possible, doing whatever it took to keep myself separate from a life that was ultimately what I was. I was a Vampire. I was a Werewolf. And yet, I segregated myself off from knowing anything about either, other than the bare essentials I needed to know in order to survive and hunt them down.

  Swiping up the brush from the counter that I had used earlier, I brushed back my drying mass of hair and deftly braided it, pulling it over one shoulder to finish—the last of it falling to my ribs. I tied it off with my rescued hair-tie and took a deep breath, bracing my hands on the counter.

  Time to take off the robe.

  This was usually done without the aid of a mirror at home to avoid any unwanted peaks at my flesh. But in Porcia’s bathroom, as with all of the bathrooms in the house from what I was told, the mirror was an entire wall, usually always opposite the shower stall and bath tub. Despite what the movies claim, Vampires do have a reflection and they preen —a lot.

  When in the shower, the steam had fogged the reflections, saving me from seeing. Now, however, I could do no more than hastily shed the robe and quickly yank on the silky excuses for pajamas that Porcia had given me.

  There is one thing about Immortals that also marks them for what they are, Immortals do not scar. They take varying amounts of time to heal, but scars are erased with Making or Turning. While every other part of me is flawless, my bites will always be there, marring my shoulder diagonally towards my breast, a full seven and a half inches, where the Were had tried to drag me away, not only biting, but tearing my flesh. The smaller bite inside that, almost a perfect half crescent of teeth on my shoulder, is where the Vampire had been drawn to my blood, drinking deep when I was too shocked and weak to stop him. Savage recollections. Haunting reminders. Gruesome memories.

  A permanent reminder that would never go away, and I did not know why.

  Porcia can talk all she wanted about men, but in the end, scars like mine don’t appeal on the material front. The heated look in a man’s eyes soon disappears when they catch sight of the scars, swiftly turning that fire to curiosity, then concern, then awkwardness, and then quiet disgust—if I’m lucky. I have gotten confusion, then disgust, then anger, as if I’d deceived them. You only have to see the reactions so many times before you just stop showing them. I’m disfigured, right down to my soul, and that’s not going away any time soon.

  5

  Three days. Three goddamned days. Nothing but flat refusal for release and no answers to my questions about when I can go home. Not a single one of these bloody Vampires, or their damn walking blood bags, would give me even the slightest hint of where I was, what they would do with me, and why the hell I had to wait until the mysterious Vincent came before finding out. And he isn’t due until tomorrow night! For all that they say I’m a guest, I’m starting to feel an awful lot like a prisoner.

  And. It. Was. Grating.

  Unable to take my own bouncing foot while sitting any longer, I was reduced to wearing a path in the rich Indian rug spreading the entire length of Osiris's plush library, my bored mind running through all the possible ways to escape the godforsaken place. If I had to squeeze into one more plunging neck-lined, navel peep-show, 'this will look great on you' top of Porcia's, or scramble to hide myself while sleeping in that flimsy scrap of an excuse for nightwear for one more night, I might’ve just taken my own head off.

  And, as I’m rather adverse to self-inflicted guillotine, escape it was. The vamps needed reminding that you can’t trap a bounty hunter, let alone Little Red Riding Hood.

  I’m badass, bi-atch

  Stopping to momentarily stare out at the woods around the house, I contemplated what I knew of the household’s routines. A forest that stretched on for miles was to the east, while swamps lay north and fields spread out in a rolling horizon to the south—or so I’d been told, since I was not allowed outside. I’d deduced that the biggest obstacle was finding a way out and how to just keep on going. Being only half-Vampire, my speed was not quite as swift as a full-blood, but my wolf-side ensured that I could keep up my nippy pace for longer. What I lacked in power, I made up for in endurance.

  The first one was the tricky, big obstacle I needed to get past. The second one was what was going to keep me past the tricky, big obstacle.

  I also knew that Osiris cloistered himself away in his study, doing what, I didn’t know, but he always seemed to know when I was going to cause mischief. I’d tried climbing out a window the day before, and I’d barely moved towards the sill when he knocked on the bedroom door and asked if I wished to stretch my legs. I’d stared at him like a dipstick and hastily shaken my head, disinclined to spend any prolonged time in the unusual, apathetic Vampire’s company. When I had tried sneaking a pair of tweezers from Porcia’s bathroom and attempted to pick the lock on the kitchen door that lead out to the gardens, he’d suddenly appeared out of nowhere just as I was about to crouch down, and asked me if I liked puzzles. I’d blinked at him, too shocked to do anything else, simply nodded and followed him out. To which followed two hours of intricate glass and steel puzzles and a game of chess.

  Creepy.

  Porcia, however, I had been in the company of whether I was disinclined to be or not. She clung to me as if I was her new BFF and chattered non-stop about anything in such a manner that I couldn’t help but stare at her mouth in alarm while she did whatever she wanted to me. That being said, the pedicure I was loathed to receive that morning did actually make my feet look so much better.

  But I was not telling her that.

  Frost, in contrast, was her ever-present shadow. Silent and stoic, he’d obviously had a long while to accustom himself to Porcia’s rambling. All he seemed to do was give a small smile or a nod of his head, and then zone out completely. I couldn’t tell if he even listened or not as he strolled along the halls of this estate with us. The only time he didn’t accompany us was when Porcia and I were in each other’s rooms. He never stepped past the threshold, but merely gave a slight incline of his head, and wandered off to his own quarters. The first time he’d just wandered off, I hadn’t even noticed until a few hours later. He was a ghost.

  Both young Vampires, however, were currently out hunting, leaving me on my savvy lonesome.

  I asked Porcia once what Frost did when not in our company. She’d merely shrugged and said, “Plays chess with Osiris or the violin with Felix.” All thoughts had then derailed into my new obsession.

  Felix…

  The one Vampire I’d like to get my claws into—and not in the good way. Well, I guess ‘good’ depends on your kink threshold, but that’s beside the point! For someone who had been so keen to get me onto his side and into his clan, I’d seen neither hide nor hair of him—bar the brief flashes of his passing by a door— since he’d nigh stripped me to my undies. The infuriating scumbag was avoiding me, I knew it. He had got me into a mess, and I’d barely seen him since.

  Can’t he just stand still for ten minutes, so I can at least look at him? Is that too much to ask? Obviously.

  After nearly forty-eight hours of searching, waiting and tracking my elusive prey, I finally caught him the previous afternoon as he was leaving his quarters, pulling on his biker jacket (I still want one of those!) and strolling for the stairs. I’d instantly accosted him and bombarded him with questions, partially bedazzled by his pretty eyes, chiseled features and the breadth of his cling-to-me-while-you-scream shoulders.

  Ahem. Focus, Red!

  I’d demanded answers quite forcefully; to which all he did was laugh and hold up his hands in surrender and say, “I’ll know when Vince gets here,” then waltzed out the door. I could only watch in open-mouthed shock and dismay.

  Whoever this Vince fellow was, his shoddy, unpunctual, and downright inconvenient no-showing, was starting to drive me nuts. And crazy people, as we all
know, crack when confined. That's why they need the special jacket.

  Cue hysterical giggle.

  Suddenly, the soft boom of a door slamming jerked my head around. Moving quietly to the library doors, I sneaked a peak down the hall leading to the marble foyer and the grand stairs. Flaring my nostrils, I inhaled deeply, narrowing my gaze to cut through the evening shadows of the hall and see past them.

  Ice and coffee. Anise. Felix.

  Exhaling a shuddering breath, feeling my entire body light up from every tiny cell and spreading outwards—the general reaction to this particular bloodsucker, I’d discovered—I slipped silently from the library and into the shadowed corridor just as the aforementioned bloodsucker came waltzing out of the alcove near the kitchen that led to the garage. And, God, men shouldn’t be so striking.

  His dark hair stuck out in wild disarray, windblown and yummy, beckoning for a touch. My fingers curled into a fist to keep from shoving them through his thick locks to grip tightly, yanking his mouth down to mine, or pulling his head back to bare the smooth column of his neck to my hungry lips.

  Losing focus again, Red! Cough.

  His dark, slashing brows were furrowed, his lashes cast down with his gaze to the floor, as if deep in thought. His lips were drawn into a grim line, pulling the skin tight over his high, chiseled cheekbones, making the handsome plains of his face look harsh and severe.

  Still made-me-stupid hawt, though.

  He bounced his keys absently in his right hand as he strode across the foyer, the ornate lighting above rebounding off the embossed keys. He took the stairs up to the next floor two at a time, not even noticing me in the shadows.

  My nerve-endings came alive with the possibilities of getting free like a fuse set to firecrackers, my mind fixating on one thing for long minutes after Felix had disappeared upstairs.

  Keys.

  From my extensive observations, (cough, stalking, cough) I knew that Felix would head straight up to his room and shower before meeting with Osiris is his study. I’d noticed that, and don’t judge me for this, but the longer he spends outside the house, the longer he spends inside the shower when he returns. I knew this only because I had sat outside his room and waited for him several times the last few days. Unfortunately, Porcia always dragged me to my feet and hauled me off. For someone who keeps going on about how much Felix would like this, that and the other, I’ve very rarely been given an opportunity to show him.