by Cara Villar
“You got everything?” he asked, after clearing his throat.
Nodding, I replied, “All set.” Turning away, I thanked all that was holy that my voice wasn’t hoarse. I strode like I had all the confidence in the world, and then some, over to my duffel, and tossed in a couple sheathed swords before zipping it up.
“I don’t think you’ll really need all these, pet.” Felix told me, his smooth baritone burr tingling my English senses as he took the bag from me. I blinked up at him.
“Why not?” In my opinion, I’d rather have too much than too little. You never knew when the blade that you strapped to your ankle out of habit could be a potential lifesaver.
“Because I have my own armory and you could have just borrowed mine.”
I sucked in a shocked breath. “You would lend out your weapons?”
“You wouldn’t?” His brow arched wryly.
I shook my head. “Hell, no.” I turned for the stairs and began to ascend. “And I wouldn’t borrow anyone’s either. It’d be like borrowing underwear.” I shuddered. Even if they are washed, or practically brand new, it’s still someone else’s underwear! Gross! For me, the same stands for weapons. If the gun is worn to someone else’s grip or the blade balanced to someone else’s size, the higher the risk that I’ll end up dead. And we all know how adverse I am to dying.
Felix laughed, the tone rich and deep, and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise as he followed me up. “Are you seriously comparing borrowing a blade to borrowing underwear?”
I spun to face him. He stopped, his eyes level with mine when I halted a couple steps up. Blimey, he’s tall.
“Yes. Any weapon belonging to someone else is bound to not be as comfortable as one’s own.” I titled my head to the side, giving him a very innocent look. “And discomfort often leads to chafing.”
He choked out a cough. “I’ve never had anything chafe before,” he noted.
I grinned. “Let’s swap underwear for the trip back then?” I wagged my brows at him and he laughed again, dipping his eyes downwards.
“Looking at you, I get the feeling that whatever underwear you have on will cut me in half.” His eyes sparkled like emeralds, dancing for me.
I gave him another innocent look. “When I’m wearing them or when you are?” Did I just say that?
Felix shook his head. “From angel to devil and back again.”
I did say that! Jeepers, who is this flirty little sex fiend?
I just grinned and turned back around. As we entered the lounge, he moved towards my other bags while I closed up my hideaway, watching my entertainment center slide back into the wall. I set the remote back into the stand, turned to leave, and just stopped.
On the opposite wall of my lounge, right in the corner, was a glass cabinet. Inside it were the things that went with me everywhere, if not in form, then in thought. Usually there was a little light on at the top of the cabinet; highlighting the little trinkets inside, displaying them for the delicate beauties they appeared to be. My fingers brushed the glass before I’d even noticed I’d moved, and I stared down at the little wood carvings. A rabbit on its hind legs, sniffing the air. A robin on a branch, fluffing its feathers, an elk with its head cocked, and the town inn’s cat.
Glenn made all these for me. Taught me how to make my own. He was always so good with his hands. Rough and strong when he needed, gentle and caressing when he wanted. His hands were always so big compared to mine… Oh, Glenn… Why did you try to save me?
“Red?” My head swung up at the voice, breaking me from my melancholy.
“Coming,” I called, hastily stepping away from my memories, and silently taking them with me.
7
The drive back to Osiris’s house was two hours long. In Florence, no less. The irony of Vampires living in such a hot and humid part of the world isn’t lost on me, and only emphasizes how useless Vampire folklore and myth really is. Porcia would probably be sunbathing in a month or so.
On the way to Summerville to get my things, I had contented myself with just watching the light shimmer across Felix’s skin, and he hadn’t seemed to mind me watching him. He even glanced at me occasionally, grinning this secret little grin, the one that hinted at his dimple, and made me want to crawl into his lap, hell with the driving.
However, on the way back, I wanted to badger him with questions. Make him talk. Make him distract me from three-century-old memories haunting the back of my mind. And, okay, I’ll admit, let me stare at him some more.
“Felix?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I see your fangs?”
He frowned and glanced at me. “Why? You have your own.”
“Yeah. But yours are bigger.” I paused, and then grinned. “That’s what she said.”
Felix snorted, his mouth quirking at the corners. “You’re a bounty hunter, Red. I’m sure you’ve seen them before.”
“I’ve seen plenty,” I acknowledge. “But they’re always attached to pissed off, hissing vamps lunging at my throat.” I gripped the shoulder of his biker jacket and shook him, whining, “Pleeeeaaaassssseeeeee?”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
I released him instantly, swiveled in my seat as much as the belt would let me, and then watched him avidly. He stared at me, looked back at the road and sighed. His luscious lips parted and I leaned forward, my eyes zeroing in on his canines slowly descending. Pearly white, sharp, glinting. Menacing.
“Jeepers,” I breathed, taking in the length. They had to be at least twice as long as mine. “How long can they get?” I asked.
His lips curved. “That’s what she said.”
I grinned back.
“I don’t know. Two inches at a stretch?” He shrugged, and I gaped at him, reaching up and dragging my finger from gum to point.
I frowned. “Hmmm…” I probed my own canines. This is, I knew, where I differed from this Vampire. My teeth, though sharp enough to pierce flesh, were neither as long nor as fine as Felix’s set of fangs. My teeth, however, were more wolf, my canines elongating both top and bottom for maximum damage. Where Felix’s teeth were more designed to pierce and feed, mine were more suited to getting a grip and ripping the hell out of whatever I had.
My shoulders slumped as I dropped my hand into my lap. Felix let his fangs slide home and glanced at me. The few times I’d taken blood, it had been messy. I wasn’t very efficient at it, especially with my biting. I tended to look rabid, feral even, with blood all over my face and down my throat because my bite wasn’t clean enough.
Blah.
“Let’s have a gander at yours then.” Felix said suddenly.
I blinked at him. “What?”
His grin widened. “Your fangs.”
I scrunched my nose. “Mine aren’t like yours.”
“Red,” He arched a brow. “You’re like nothing I’ve ever seen. Your eyes spark but your heart beats. You guzzled that blood like a champ. Then spat it out. And you look as innocent as a little catholic school girl, but your potty mouth can leave even Porcia speechless.”
“How do you know that?” I sputtered. I do not have potty mouth!
“I heard you!” he laughed
“When?” I squeaked. I didn’t remember ever speaking to Porcia in anywhere near what could be considered a potty mouth. She’s irritating at times, yeah, but I never—
“When she was trying to get you to wear a dress to dinner.”
Shit.
“Wasn’t it, ‘That’s not a dress it’s a napkin and if you think I’m wearing that you can blow it right out your arse and bathe in it’?” His imitation of my slightly northern accent— which only comes out when I’m irate—was unnervingly spot-on and I frowned.
I thought that was pretty mild.
I stuck my chin in the air and haughtily replied, “Maybe.”
He laughed again, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling in my stomach. It was like fairies were fluttering in my t
ummy screaming, ‘We did that!’
“So? Are you going to show me or not?”
I gave him a squinty, narrow-eyed look. “Fine.” I pointed at him. “But no laughing!”
He just grinned, lean dimples making me push out a breath. Baring my teeth like a hiss, I let my canines, top and bottom, pop up. They didn’t slide like his.
His eyes widened. “Blimey, pet! They’re huge!”
I grinned evilly, “The better to eat you with, my dear.”
Felix smirked and gave me a knowing glance at the double entendre, until I smacked his arm.
“Top and bottom?” he asked.
“I know, right!” I wrinkled my nose. “I can wolf-whistle something spectacular though.”
He laughed, and I think I was becoming addicted to the sound of it. “Do you bake, too?”
“Actually, I do. Grandmother said good cooking skills was every good wife’s necessity.” I nodded, pleased, despite the dull ache in my heart. “A way to a man’s heart and all that.”
“Everything the legend says and then some, eh, pet?” he said, a little wonder in his voice.
My insides turned to ice. Legendary? More like cheap imitation. It didn’t feel legendary to watch your loved ones die. It didn’t feel legendary to have your worst nightmare resemble a fairytale and warped beyond recognition for decades. Everything from that day and night was fear, blood, death and screams, which I still hear in my nightmares.
Oh, God, Glenn… why?
A cool touch on my cheek, “Hey?”
I lifted my eyes and met bright emeralds encircled with a dark moss. They shimmered, and I realized my eyes were filling with tears. I blinked rapidly to keep them at bay, swallowing repeatedly the harsh lump in my throat. My chest ached like a raw, ragged wound, and I exhaled a silent, shaky breath.
“You okay?” Felix asked, his eyes dark with concern.
I forced a smile, though I knew it was wobbly. “Of course. Just thinking about maybe baking for a bunch of Vampires.” I shrugged it off, keeping the smile in place as I lied through my teeth, and my pain.
He smiled wryly. “I’m pretty partial to English muffins, myself.”
Obviously, he wasn’t going to call me on my fibbing. Bless him. Right then, all I wanted to do was crawl into his lap again, but for completely different reasons from before. A part of me missed the heady comfort of being held by someone so much stronger than me. By someone who seemed capable of defeating even the worst of nightmares. It was a foolish girl’s imagination, I know. But it didn’t hinder the desire to just let myself be a woman for once.
Instead, I returned his wry grin and slumped back into the seat. “Isn’t that because you’re English, Felix?”
He smiled that dimpled, winning smile, and covered my hands with one of his, giving them a squeeze. Comfort in its simplest form. Almost like a cuddle.
“Right you are, pet.”
Almost.
By the time we got to the outskirts of Florence, where Osiris’s house was located, the sun was just about to set and the warm temperature was swiftly cooling. The near-twilight hour bathed his house, highlighting the balcony railings and arched windows, and sending the shadows of the pillars wrapping around the bottom of the house to stretch across the lawn like creepy, claw-like fingers. It was a stunning house in the daylight hours, but with the sun setting and the shadows beginning to spill forth, it looked positively haunted.
I shivered as I stepped out of the car, heading to the trunk for my bags and trying to ignore the spine-tingling feeling radiating from the property. Felix smiled as he handed me my pack, taking my duffel and suitcase himself. I shut the trunk.
“Do you think I’ll be able to get my phone back after this meeting thing?” I asked, bouncing after him hopefully.
He chuckled, warm and rich. “You have an obsession with getting your phone back.” He peered at me over his shoulder. “Got someone important to call?” he asked casually, but I saw the sharpness in his gaze and grinned, even though he didn’t answer my question.
Master Dodge, thy name is Felix.
“Yes. My best friend. She’ll kill me if I don’t tell her I’ve been kidnapped by this hot Vampire guy and give her the opportunity to lecture me on all the ways to boink him.”
His soft laughter caressed over my skin. “Boink?” he repeated, incredulous. “Blimey, pet. What kind of company do you keep?” He paused at the door and waited for me to squeeze past him to open it.
“I am awesome, and fabulous people gravitate to me. It’s a gift.” I grinned with my hand on the door handle. “I’ll put her on speaker when she starts to lecture. You might be able to learn something from her fabulousness.” I pushed the door open.
“Actually, I’m more intrigued by hot Vampire guy. Let’s talk about his awesomeness.”
I laughed as we stepped into the foyer. He set down my bags and kicked the door shut, grinning at me. I opened my mouth to reply…
And froze.
I tilted my head to the side with a frown, analyzing the sudden prickling heat rushing over my senses like waves, enhancing the spine-tingles from before. If it wasn’t the house itself, then it was something in the house. My instincts started to scream as my gaze met Felix’s, and his answering scowl—aimed just over my shoulder—had me turning very slowly, dread knotting my stomach until I felt like I was going to hurl.
I sucked in a breath laced with sunshine and sea salt as my eyes clashed with clear, crystalline blue. A monolith of a man stood just inside the doors of Osiris’s study, in front of the dark desk, as if he’d immediately come to his feet from the plush leather chair when we had come through the door. The light from the lamps on the desk lit up his unruly, curly blonde hair into a halo of gold and platinum, and only emphasized his immense height and the width of his shoulders. Especially when he wore an ankle-length, worn, black leather trench coat, a Rage Against the Machine T-shirt, and black faded jeans topped off with shitkickers bigger than some bathroom sinks. The guy had to be bordering seven feet tall, and was built like a line-backer. Hell, three line-backers.
I seriously need to redefine my expectations of ‘big’.
With a liquid grace belying his size, the giant moved around his chair and began to prowl towards me. And I say ‘prowl’ because no other word would describe the way he moved—like a large, fierce animal that knew it was at the top of the food chain, sleek and powerful. Add that to the sudden intensifying of those slaps of heat, and my heart was kicking into overdrive. My lips parted on a shuddering gasp as I stepped back once, twice, and again.
Flashes of blood, sounds of snarling, iron rich in the air…pain. So much pain.
My back bumped up again something, and suddenly I was encased in ice and anise. “Felix?” My voice was nothing but a whisper straining past the tightness in my throat, in my lungs and stomach, my entire body.
My instincts—hell, every bit of common sense I owned—were screaming at me to get away from this male, because I knew exactly what he was, and his kind just did not like me. With our kind of history, you very rarely got me inside a room with one of these for long. Even the contracts I took as a hunter were utterly unbending when it came to these Immortals—they die, or I don’t do it. If I didn’t kill it, I just plain got the hell out. I could not be forgiving. The emotion was not in me. One wolf had ruined me for all others. No mercy.
But with Felix’s cool presence at my back, I was reminded that I wasn’t alone, and I was protected. If I just stayed with Felix, the giant wolf prowling at me couldn’t do a goddamned thing without the repercussions Porcia talked about, right? I wasn’t alone. There were people there that thought I belonged to them, and while Felix was at my back, this giant male couldn’t do anything to me…right?
Felix lifted his hands to my upper arms, and gripped tight, his voice whispering past my ear. “This is Vincent,” he told me simply.
My whole body stiffened. This was the guy they wanted to verify me? That I was what I claimed to be an
d not lying through my teeth? They wanted a wolf to verify I was a wolf because a hybrid was so obviously ridiculous? Bastards! Did this mean he could do something to me? Shit.
“Stay calm, pet.” Felix murmured, obviously hearing the rapid fluttering of my heart, like a panicked butterfly in my neck, as Vincent halted several feet away. His nostrils flared as he hissed in an inhale, looking like some rabid beast.
Blood, snarls, fear…pain. So, so, so much pain.
I gritted my teeth, unable to take my eyes off him, fisting the seam of Felix jeans as he stood behind me, pressing back tighter and tighter the closer the wolf got to me. The giant, Vincent, radiated such a presence and such a force of will, a part of me just wanted to sink to the floor and grovel, while the rest of me just wanted to lash out and maim. Both were irrational, both were not me. But if I were going to go either way, it’d be the latter. I wasn’t the groveling type, and I’d rather go down fighting.
“Red?”
My gaze flickered briefly from Vincent, and brushed over Osiris calmly pressing his fingertips together as he came out of his study, followed by wide-eyed Frost and Porcia, and two more wolves. One stocky male, one severe-looking female.
“This is Vincent, The Alpha of South Carolina.” Osiris’s cool, cold words were practically clinical, as if the opinion of the wolf before me wouldn’t decide my entire future. “He is going to authenticate your lineage.”
Clear blue eyes bore into me, as clear as a Californian summer sky. A thick lock of curling blonde hair fell over his forehead and other waves skimmed his collar, his slightly darker brows furrowed in deep consideration. Of me. He was considering me. That same apathetic focus that scientists get when looking down a scope at something they don’t consider alive, merely a curiosity.
“Does anyone else know about her?” the giant asked, his voice like boulders grating on slate. His eyes were sharp and keen, framed in dark blonde lashes. That gleam of intelligence making him so much more than the big dumb brute he looked. His nose was long and pointed, the nostrils oddly small…until they flared, taking in my scent again. His lips were pursed, looking both soft and firm at the same time, and dark blonde stubble decorated a hard, stubborn jaw.