The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals

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The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals Page 14

by Cara Villar


  “Yes, Wendy.”

  “Not even Peter Pan could make me like that name! Jeez…”

  He smiled, looking as viciously satisfied as a snake. “Wendy Walter-Harvey—”

  “Good God, I sound like a Marvel Comics character!”

  “—is an only daughter from a middle-class family, who once worked for Alistair’s rival. He knew her by reputation alone before meeting her, knowing that she was part of the mastermind behind many of Walter-Harvey’s losses.” His head tilted and he regarded me with heated eyes. I almost shivered. “Alistair and Wendy met at an awards function and he stole her away.” His smile broadened. “It’s a love match.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Wendy is Alistair’s personal advisor,” he continued. “She accompanies him to all meetings, all functions, and advises him on new products and deals, right down to stocks and shares.”

  “How the hell am I supposed to pull this off? I don’t know anything about stocks and shares. It’s why I have an accountant!”

  His brows shot up. “You have an…” Comprehension cleared his features. “Your security system, same guy?”

  I beamed. “He is so very, very clever.” I wagged my fingers at him with a saucy grin. “Marvelous talents.”

  I got a brow arch and then suddenly- “Eep!” I was flat on my back, my ankle in his tight fist, sliding toward him across the smooth, butter-soft leather. “Let go. You’re wrinkling my dress.” Is that breathless, husky voice mine? I tugged on my foot. Well shit, I think it is.

  “How about I show you some of my…” His eyes locked with mine, his fingers trailing up the back of my calf, rasping softly against the silk stocking, “Talents.”

  The way he dropped his voice, making it all deep and gravely, making that one simple word sound positively sinful. I couldn’t hold back the shiver that rippled through me as he started to prowl over.

  “Wait!” I pressed my heel-clad free foot to his chest, halting him. “Wait, I—”

  “Red?” His brows arched, and he gave a look so pointed, I just froze, mouth hanging open. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. “Why?”

  “Well…” His wicked lips turned up at the edges. My breath practically wheezed out as everything he didn’t say hung between us. He didn’t mention what had happened on the plane. He didn’t mention how the taste of his blood had made me sizzle through and through. He didn’t mention how I had grinded on him until we both came.

  He didn’t have too. It was all there in that one word.

  Holy hell, Red. You might be in trouble here. Ya think?

  Felix’s hand cupped the back of my knee. His other slowly slid around my ankle over his chest. He jerked. I slid even closer, my inner thigh pressed to his hip, my ankle going over his shoulder, my skirts riding up even further. His hand settled on the leather seat beside me, and he leaned in, opening me wide to him.

  My breaths came in quick pants, my mind nothing but a jumble of sensation and incomplete thoughts racing at five-hundred miles an hour. All the reasons for not letting this happen that I’d articulated back at the hotel escaped me. Swamped under his addictive scent and unwavering gaze, I’m not sure I wanted to fight. Guilt be damned. My reservoir of excuses was dry. Empty. Burned away by the sparkling intensity of his presence, his close proximity.

  His breath brushed my cheeks, fanning cool across my skin, his jade eyes danced bright as tumbling jewels. His pupils were completely blown, and steadfast in their focus on me. My mind flashed with a brief acknowledgement that Felix must get this same expression when hunting.

  “Sir?” I flinched at the sound of a soft voice through the intercom. “We’re here.”

  Felix growled, flashing incredibly long fangs before dropping his forehead to my collarbone. His lips brushed the swell of my breast, making my whole body shiver in response, heat flaring.

  “Guess traffic wasn’t that bad after all,” I managed to say, though my throat was tight, my body tense with expectation. With a pained groan, Felix lifted himself off me and slumped against the seat. I swung my legs around and shoved my skirts down to my ankles, clearing my throat and trying to dislodge the lump there. Out the corner of my eyes, I saw Felix shift, as if uncomfortable, and heave a big sigh despite his fierce scowl.

  I turned to look at him as he pulled a fine, gold-framed pair of glasses from his inner pocket, and slipped them onto his nose. The small accessory completed his transformation from deadly Vampire to handsome entrepreneur in a heartbeat, making the results positively breathtaking.

  He held out his hand to me. “Ready to play, Wendy?”

  I slid mine into his without hesitation. “Game on, Alistair.”

  Le Grand Reve was a decadent sprawling mass of French architecture across twenty-seven-thousand square foot, and boasted as many as twenty-six rooms, as well as a ten-car garage space. As I stood before the four-column entrance, I could well believe it. The place was immense, glowing like a star on earth in the dark of night, warm and mysterious and inviting, almost ethereal in its beauty.

  The Chateau style setup appealed to me on every possible level, feeding every feminine part of me that wanted to be pampered in this fantasy land made for pampering. As I stood in the entrance, taking in the splendor of the Tiffany stained dome and the two sweeping artistic stairwells with black railings leading up to the second floor, I felt breathless with excitement.

  One day, I told myself, One day I’ll have this.

  Aware of all the people around us, watching us, knowing they knew Alistair but not his wife, I decided to give them a taste. “Darling?” I tugged on Felix’s sleeve until he turned to me. I gave him a sultry pout. “I want,” I stated simply. His eyes sparkled behind his glasses as his lips curved with amusement.

  “It’s overdone and overpriced, dear,” he replied, trying to be stern with his proper English accent, despite my hands trailing up the satin lapels of his tux.

  “But there are so many rooms.” I purred, my fingers playing with the soft hair brushing his shirt collar as I pressed close, looking up at him through my lashes. “It will take forever to christen them all.”

  His lips twitched, and his hands glided over my hips to press into the base of spine. Against my stomach was the reason for the uncomfortable shift in the back of the limo. “If you wish to christen rooms, dear, I’ll buy you a hotel. At least then we’ll be able to make money back on it.”

  “If you want a hotel, I insist you take me back to that quaint little one on Lake Garda.” I smiled softly, dropping my voice to a husky whisper. “I liked walking around naked.”

  A deep laugh sounded beside us, startled and delighted. Felix turned his head and smiled. Following his gaze, I met a pair of sparkling blue eyes, laugh lines creasing the corners of a matured, handsome face and a ravishing smile. Blond hair streaked with silver swept back casually to reveal a face that was only made younger by the fine lines of age, not older.

  “Eddie, old boy, how are you?” Felix shook the man’s hand with a casual familiarity that transformed his otherworldly looks into remarkably attractive mortal.

  “Al, good to see you. Thought I’d be bored out of my mind at this damn party. Thank God you’re here.” Those blue eyes swung back to me and I smiled. Those eyes were… unnerving. Too intelligent, seeing too much. Politician? Must be.

  “I must confess that attending was not my idea,” Felix answered smoothly, his accent sweeping away all hints of east-London, and making it all the Queen’s English. He turned to me then. “My wife got wind of the location and refused to be denied.”

  “Oh, please.” I lightly slapped his arm. “Any place that names itself ‘The Big Dream’ demands an inspection.” I slipped my arm around Felix’s waist under his jacket. “It certainly hasn’t disappointed.”

  Felix laughed. “Edward Bauer, this is my wife, Wendy. Wendy, this is Edward Bauer, political rival to the Illinois Senator.”

  Holy crappers. This guy was a potential
ally to the mysterious Ambrose, furthering his goals for office by setting himself in line with a psychopathic Vampire. Hell, if he even knew it was a Vampire. For all the sharpness in that blue gaze, there were some things mortals just didn’t want to see, and usually didn’t. Either way, this bloke was dangerous. Obama was once Senator. Now he’s President. Anything was possible, especially with a Vampire clearing the path for you.

  “Utterly charmed,” Edward replied, paying me his most winning smile as he took my hand. “After hearing that, uh…heated debate, how could I not be?” He laughed a deep, rich laugh that was designed to ingratiate friendship—however false.

  “Her compromising is relentless,” Felix replied. “Believe me.”

  “I always said,” Edward raised his tumbler with a finger of amber liquid, “can’t argue with a woman.”

  I patted Felix’s chest. “I like him. He’s smart.” They both laughed.

  The conversation was cut short when a high-pitched squeak rendered the air, the syllables forming Edward’s name. His head whipped around with a frown as he peered over the pressing crowd. He turned back with a sigh. “My ball and chain calls. I will find you later, Al.”

  Felix smiled. “I will be here somewhere.”

  Once the blonde politician was gone, Felix urged me through the crowd to the bar, sticking close as we moved through the throng of people. “He’s one of Ambrose’s, isn’t he?” I asked. The sights, sounds and smells were nearly overwhelming, and Felix, in his guise as Alistair, seemed to know everyone.

  “Balls deep, pet,” He murmured back. “Balls deep.”

  I played my role as charming wife, talking business when needed, but generally steering clear of it—just in case. I could pass off as anyone as long as no one else knew much about the subject.

  And who the hell else would know about data syntax and programming for superior wireless military communications?

  One thing I did notice, though, was that the majority of the guest list weren’t just over-ambitious twits looking for a free-ride. These were intelligent, determined people who saw a destination in life and would do anything to get there. They all had that same gleam in their eyes that Edward Bauer did—sharp, focused, and, if need be, deadly. God forbid any other mortal should stand in their way.

  And God forbid Ambrose should find need to advance such people. These people, if given the chance, could change history. That kind of shove behind a sociopathic Vampire looking to rule the Immortal world was enough to topple the scale in the sociopath’s favor if he played it right.

  Jeepers, Red. Could you pick more precarious ground? What would be the fun in that?

  After two hours of wandering through the crowd and chatting with everyone—time which I used to scope out for any Immortals, and found none— my throat was scratchy and my feet were hurting like hell. I am a firm believer that a woman’s foot is not made to be poised on the ball for hours on end, unless it’s a man’s balls.

  By the time we got to the bar again, I was frowning, my temples and sinuses beginning to throb in protest of all the heavy scents of cologne and perfume, so cripplingly laden with the smells of sweat, alcohol, food and hints of cigarette smoke.

  “I knew there was a reason I avoided big crowds,” I muttered, rubbing my forehead.

  “I don’t blame you.” Felix ordered drinks and gave me a wicked little smile. “To me it’s like a buffet in here.”

  I couldn’t help it; I laughed. Vampire humor makes me ‘LOL’.

  “What a brilliant first mission,” I muttered, taking my glass of white wine from him. “Me with a headache from scent overload and you with hunger pains.”

  “I never have this much trouble in seedy bars,” Felix replied softly, sipping a warm amber liquid, eyes sparkling in amusement.

  “Damn the upper-class.” I grinned, turning with my wine and letting my eyes scan the room. So many men in suits. So many women in gowns. Old, young, dashing, handsome, frail, grotesque, elegant, mousy, loud, quiet. It was quite the circus, and having only dealt with Immortals for the last hundred-odd years, I suddenly found myself wondering how I ever forgot how vile humanity was. With all my enhanced senses, I could pick out every imperfection, from pimples and blemishes, to ill-fitting pants and sweat patches. It made me grimace.

  “So who are we…?”

  My voice trailed off as the most divine scent drifted past my senses, momentarily drowning out all the other aromas in the room. It was fresh like pine needles, crisp like fresh snow. Natural and unpolluted. Nothing like the enhanced, overwhelming poisons humans spray on themselves because their senses are so weak. I turned my head, pretending to peer around the room, trying to find out where the scent was coming from, because, for damn sure, it could only come from one thing.

  An Immortal.

  I latched a hand onto Felix’s tuxedo jacket. “Can you smell that?” It was a throw-back to my mortal days. A déjà-vu of running from Mother’s house to Grandfather’s in autumn. Or maybe of tumbling down a leaf-strewn bank. Or paddling my feet in icy streams. So familiar to me, and yet I could not place exactly where I’d scented it before.

  “It’s Ambrose,” Felix murmured into my hair. “Can you pinpoint it?”

  I shifted in his casual embrace, moving along the bar, following the threadbare trail around republicans, democrats, celebrities. I paused by the doors leading out into the expansive gardens. “It came through from the foyer, went outside, and came back in. I think it might be going into the next room where the food is.”

  Felix sipped his drink and turned his head towards the door. “I can’t smell my contact. Her scent is faint everywhere, like she hasn’t been here for a while.” His hand tightened on my waist. I think, if I wasn’t so attuned to this male, I wouldn’t have noticed.

  “You’re worried,” I said, looking up at him.

  He gave a grim nod.

  “You’re close to her?” I asked, not entirely sure why. The tinge of jealousy was there, I won’t deny it. My main concern was how this might affect Felix and our hunt. The cold part of me believed that the death of a friend was the last thing we needed in this case, since Felix already seemed emotionally involved. He didn’t seem able to keep himself detached like Osiris could, no matter how well he acted. The woman in me, however, didn’t want him to suffer that loss.

  “She is one of mine,” he answered simply.

  I nodded and glanced around the room, not entirely sure I wanted him to elaborate on what that meant. “Is she still here?” Even if he hadn’t seen her, he would know her scent at least.

  “I haven’t seen her, and the last message she left me was…” He shook his head and glanced around the room. “I need to find her.”

  “Then let’s go snoop around.”

  Felix and I split up.

  If we were caught wandering around the mansion, my excuse was that I was looking for a bathroom, his would be he was looking for his wife who had gone to the bathroom. Simple enough, and simple usually works best, especially in places with enough rooms in general to get a girl all turned around.

  Bully for me.

  I trailed the pine needles and snow scent through the halls, pausing at doors and junctions that seemed thicker of the scent, and okay, maybe reminiscing over those walks, tumbles and streams. I wanted to know if the familiarity of the scent was just my memories, or something more.

  Something inside me had a horrible feeling it wasn’t a good thing, which only made me all the more curious to find out what the scent meant. Yes, yes, I know curiosity kills, but to be fair, after three-hundred odd years, danger seemed to be the only thing that got my blood going.

  And deliciously dark-haired Vampires with emerald eyes. Shuddup!

  I swear, I’d just wandered past my hundredth door when I stumbled to a stop and pivoted, my spine rigid as a hard lump formed in my gut. The pine needles and snow scent was now saturated in something else. Something unmistakable to any Immortal. I’d been so consumed in my thoughts and memories that
I hadn’t noticed the harsh, copper-aroma until I was at the thick of it.

  Blood.

  Fresh blood.

  Right behind the door.

  I lifted my hand to the handle and noticed my fingers trembling. I clutched it into a fist, dreading what I’d find, dreading what this meant for the mission, dreading Felix’s reaction if it was his contact behind this door. That, more than anything, made me hesitate. If I just keep walking, he’d never—

  “Red?” My head jerked up at the sound of Felix’s voice at the end of the hall. His face went instantly harsh when he saw mine, sharpening all his features. He quickened his pace towards me, his nostrils flaring at the distinctive odor of freshly-spilled red cells.

  “Felix, wait!”

  He grabbed the ornate gold handle and shoved past me, barreling into the room. “Natasha…” Felix’s voice sounded thick as I hastily followed him in and shut the door. I spun and froze.

  Natasha was dressed in a dark blue, sleeveless satin gown that went right up to her throat and fell all the way to her ankles. The luscious color accentuated the blonde-highlights in her hair and the alabaster quality of her skin, and made the sickening trail of her own intestines all the more pink and aberrant. She hung limp from the chandelier in the middle of the room by her neck, an unraveled length of curtain tie tight about her throat and held fast to a post of the canopied bed. A stake protruded from her motionless chest.

  And she was still alive.

  Vampires could only be killed by two ways. One was by beheading—my preferred form of elimination. The second was titanium tipped wooden stake into the heart and twisted. The fact that Natasha was hung and gutted with an untwisted stake in her chest just about screamed torture. Ambrose had meant to cause pain.

  One of her patent blue heels lay in the giant puddle of blood below her, glossy and surreal on the dark, expensive looking rug. And for a moment, I could only stare at the shoe, compulsively swallowing as I fought not to vomit. How could anyone do this to another living being? What kind of sick mind had the ability to do this? It was torture. Pure and simple. I could not comprehend the kind of offense that a person could suffer to condone this kind of retaliation. It was beyond my mind-set to even…

 

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