The Better to Eat You With: The Red Journals (12 page)

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.

“No,” Osiris answered. “We
thought, given recent events, that secrecy was best.”

 Is he referring to the
Immortal disappearances?

The wolf only nodded.

All-in-all, he was rugged
and handsome and I could appreciate that, and, like all Immortals, smelt
divine. His sunshine and sea salt aroma suited him right down to his toes.

But he was still a wolf.

Blood on the floor, on
my hands… Oh, God, Glenn…

“You need to move away
from her,” Vincent said suddenly, his voice gravelly and dark, rough and
commanding.

I felt Felix go rigid
against my back. “Don’t move,” Felix murmured in my ear, and my heart tripped
when he released me, moving to the side, tearing his jeans free of my grasp.

No. No!
I clenched my now empty hands into fists and swallowed
convulsively. Felt like my heart was trying to leap out of my throat, right out
of my dry mouth. A butterfly on amphetamines. Every single impulse in me was
telling me to run. Fight. Act. Now.

Brown eyes glazed with
pain, bloodied lips, his words…Run, Willow…Just run…

I went utterly still when
the wolf took a step forward, a deer freezing in the headlights, waiting for
impact. I wasn’t delusional. I was prey, no doubt about it. He was the
predator, stronger than me in a way that was unmistakable. Where Felix’s subtle
aura reverberated with a hint of his power, only letting a little leak through,
Vincent’s was like a sledgehammer. The full impact of his power radiated from
him like a furnace blast, uninhibited and pure, potent and addictive. Hot. Though
I hated myself for it, I flinched when he stopped before me.

I looked up…and up… and
up…and met his eyes, craning my neck to take in the ferocious lines of his face
as he stared, motionless, down at me. My fear spiked, and the acrid stench once
again filled the air, unfiltered, undiluted; rich in terror and my most
horrifying memories. The pounding of my pulse became a steady thump in my ears
as he slowly raised his hand, his icy gaze never leaving mine. His fingers
brushed my hair aside, and my inner-wolf shivered, feeling his throbbing
presence like a full-body caress.

My pulse stopped…then
jack-knifed. The sour stench of my fear started to color with my rage, a
trickle of acid across the bitterness in the air.

My lips parted on a gasp
as his hand settled hot and heavy on my shoulder, like a searing brand, and his
nostrils flared, inhaling me again, making me shudder till my claws stretched
free, cutting into my palms.

Slowly, ever so
torturously slow, he lowered his head, and my breaths became pants, ragged
gasps mixing with the thrum of my pulse in my ears. His nose skimmed my neck as
he inhaled a cool rush of air, and then a harsh exhale of warm breath. His
scent enveloped me, fogging my brain with images of sun, sand, and sparkling
ocean, the crisp salt crackling my senses. I could almost feel the sand between
my toes, the spray on my skin, the sun warm on my face… No blood. No pain.

A low rumble sounded by my
ear.

Blood. Snarling. Pain.

My heart stopped. My eyes flew
open.

Wolf.

My arms shoot out before I
knew I’d moved, ramming the wolf in the chest and sending him flying backwards.
He hit the desk, landed hard, crashing in a spray of limbs, and destroying the
thick dark woodwork. A female wolf ran to his side.

“Don’t touch me!” I heard
myself scream, a savage harpy squawk, muffled as if through glass.
Must keep
the wolf back.
I bared my teeth and fangs in a feral hiss as the male wolf
snarled and launched himself at me.
His blood. His pain.

I ran at him. As he went
air-born to tackle me, to over-power me with his weight, I dropped to my
haunches, front foot forward, sliding across the smooth veneered floor. As he
passed overhead, I rammed up, into his stomach, with my shoulders, blasting the
air from his lungs and ruining his momentum, tumbling him onto his back. He
grunted. I circled to his side, and kicked out, the force of my hit sending him
sliding back into the wall where Osiris and Felix had stood mere moments
before.

A roar suddenly sounded. My
head jerked back to the study. A force slammed into me, sending me soaring this
time. The female. She hit me like a two-ton truck. I curled in on myself and
hit the wall with my back. Pain exploded through every nerve ending in my
spine, radiating fiercely through my shoulders. Plaster and brick exploded
around me as I dropped to my feet in a crouch, covering my head with my arms as
debris reigned down.

Then I was up again,
striding back into the fray, pulling my chains free from my wrists. My gaze
sharp, crystal clear, focused, sparkling with gold, and my gums ached with the
need to tear and maul.

Wolf. Destroy.

The male came at me again,
growling his feral need for retribution.

Time stopped. I saw every
move they would make, every move I would make, recognized the tensing of
muscles that anticipated moves, watched eyes flicker with intention, and I
knew. I knew what I would do.

Time sped up.

I dodged the punch the
male threw, sliding right and flicking out my wrist, wrapping the silver chain
around his forearm. He hissed in pain. I yanked him forward, slipped under his
outstretched arm as he stumbled, and wrapped the titanium chain around his
throat. He gurgled.

The female lunged. I
jerked the males chained wrist around, smacking her in the face. She gave a
yelp of surprise and faltered. I released his wrist and flicked my wrist again
and the silver chain shot out, snapping around her neck, and I yanked to
tighten it, cutting into her flesh.

“Red!”

I froze.

“Red, stop!”

Stop?

Blood. Pain. Wolf.

I was supposed to stay
still…

I flinched, my mind
yanking abruptly out of its pain-hazed need to survive memories long-since
passed. “Tell them to stand down.” I demanded, never releasing my grip on the
chains. The female glared. The male snarled. “Tell them!”

“Des, Mark.”

My gaze flickered. Vincent.
Wolf. Sunshine. Sea salt.

“Stand down.”

“Are you fucking kidding
me?” the female, Des, snapped.

I yanked the chain and she
cried out, the silver burning into her skin, cutting deeper. The male, Mark, cursed,
and then slowly lifted his hands in the air. A tense moment later, Des did too.

A practiced reverse flick
of my wrists, and both were free. Mark darted away from me like I burned,
probing his neck with ginger fingers. Des continued to glower, not even moving.
I returned my chains to my wrists.

“She’s had a weapon on her
the whole time…” I heard someone—Porcia, I think—softly murmur. I switched my
gaze to her, and she met my gaze with a wicked little grin and a wink. She
wasn’t concerned. She seemed almost…impressed.

Osiris moved into my line
of sight, staring at me, contemplating me in that cold, blank way he had, his
fingertips pressed together in a casual pose of contemplation. Then he turned
to the giant blonde man moving to his side. “So, Vincent. What say you?”

Those sky blue eyes
appraised me from head to toe, but they were heated, proprietary, and I shifted
uncomfortably under his gaze. This was a wolf, and, unless I was beating them
to death, I really didn’t know how to stay still with one so close —especially
one whose whole aura made me itch.

“There is definitely wolf
in her. And Vampire too. Though I sense her wolf more.”

“As we do her Vampire
side.” Osiris nodded, thoughtfully. “Though she appears to have a remarkable
set of talents, regardless of sires.”

Vincent rolled his eyes.
“Remarkable?” He snorted. “As always, the master of understatement, Ozzy.”

Ozzy?

He tilted his head, a
decidedly inhuman action, and considered me. “Why did you push me, darlin’?”

I scowled at the
endearment.

“You growled,” I answered
simply.

His brows shot up in
surprise. “That’s it?” he asked.

I shrugged, feigning a
calm I was
far
from feeling. “Where wolves are concerned, I shoot first
and ask questions later.”

A slow, sexy grin curved
his lips, and it transformed his face like a punch in the gut. His gaze pierced
mine, icy and firm with promise. “Mayhap, darlin’, I’ll show you the difference
between good growls and bad growls.”

The urge to take his head
off was making me fist my hands at my sides. And then I realized…. “You don’t
know who I am, do you?” My brow’s hit my hairline, while Vincent’s furrowed in
confusion.

A low chuckle sounded
behind me. “You didn’t tell him, Osiris?” Felix asked.

I glanced at him, and
noticed he had blood on his lip. I frowned.

“Tell me what?” Vincent
asked.

I turned back to see
Osiris pursing his lips, and pointedly keeping his gaze on the floor.

Felix gave me a little
push toward the big, blonde wolf. “Why don’t you formally introduce yourself,
pet?”

I glanced at him again,
and saw a particularly evil looking grin on Felix’s face, like he was relishing
what was about to happen.

Sadistic Vampire

Arching a brow, I turned
back to Vincent, gave him the same innocent expression I’d worked on Felix
before knocking him out, and held out my hand. “Red Riding Hood.”

There was a gasp, a beat
of silence, and then…
thump.
I think Mark passed out.

“Ow, ow, ow! Ow!”

“Stop moving!”

“What the hell are you
doing back there? Hacking it out with a meat cleaver?” I snapped. Frost made a
strange noise, and I twisted my neck to see him across the counter. His face
was completely blank as I eyed him suspiciously.

“You just shoved a wolf Alpha
across the room and you’re complaining about a piece of plaster stuck in your
shoulder?” Porcia barked, incredulous.

My shoulder hurt like
hell, the pain not quite kicking in until my adrenaline had peaked and started
to subside, and then it had kicked in with a vengeance. Porcia’s ‘delicate
touch’ was just making the spike of wall plaster imbedded in the back of my
(non-scarred, thank God) shoulder irate. Here I thought that, being as she was
so dinky and all, she’d have gentle hands.

Boy, how wrong I’d been!

“The plaster I can handle.
It’s what you’re doing that’s got me freaked!” I wriggled on my bar stool,
trying to subtly draw away from her and into the dark marble countertop of the
island.

“What’s that supposed to
mean?” she demanded and poked—hard.

“Ow!” I swatted her hand
off and jumped from the stool. “No more touching!”

Porcia rolled her eyes and
dropped her hands into her lap, tweezers between her fingers. “You’re such a
baby!”

“Were you a butcher in a
past life?”

“Were you this much of a
wuss?” she drawled back, not worried in the least.

My mouth dropped open.

“Here.” Frost held out his
hand suddenly and I jumped, snapping my mouth shut on a bitchy retort.

Damn. He could be so quiet
sometimes I forgot he was there!

“I will do it.” His voice
was slightly accented, deep, soft, smooth as honey.

I tilted my head at him as
he took the tweezers in hand. He stood me side-on to him, peering over my
shoulder. I tried to peer too, but he straightened too quickly.

Ice blue eyes, almost colorless
like a winter sky, looked into mine. I could smell snow, feel cold wind on my
skin, and hear the frosty ground crunch under my feet.

And then, “Ow!”

“All done,” he said
suddenly, turning away.

I blinked, startled,
dizzy.
What the hell?

“Hey, what—”

He held up the shard of
plaster, about two inches long, covered in bright scarlet, and then tossed it
in the trash.

“That’s it?” I asked, wide-eyed,
then swung a scowl at Porcia.

She just smiled winningly.

“Are you a sadist too?”

She laughed as Frost
turned me, lifting a swab that smelt distinctly sanitized and smoothed it over
my shoulder. “It’s healing already,” he observed softly, my mind turning over
his words, trying to discern the accent.

Russia, maybe?

“I don’t heal as fast as Vampires,
but faster than Weres,” I replied, startling myself. Obviously a part of me
figured it was okay to be revealing the secrets that kept me alive for so long.
Not alone anymore.
No. No, I’m not.

“Must come in handy,”
Frost replied, cleansing, the sting minor under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“Handy.” Porcia snorted,
and I glanced over to see her rolling her eyes again. “A lot of things about
you seem to be coming in handy.” She beamed suddenly, bouncing in her seat. “Oh-my-god!
I’ve never seen anything like that. You threw,
threw,
Vincent…what? Like
fifteen feet without even trying? And then!” She clapped. “You took on his
lieutenants. The highest ranking pack members after him, and you made them look
like pups!”

I cringed. I still didn’t
know what had come over me, but after the wolves had gone back into the library
with Osiris, and Felix disappeared to ‘catch a quick bite’—
really?—
I’d
all but collapsed on the floor. Porica said it seemed like shock, my mind
trying to process something it didn’t understand. I remembered the sheer terror
of having to just stand there as the enormous wolf prowled around and sniffed
me, the utter fury at being helpless while he lay hands on me, and then…

Nothing but a cold, dark
calm.

“I doubt they’re going to
take too well to being called pups, Porcia,” I admonished, glancing at Frost’s
carefully blank face as he reached over for a large square band-aid.

Porcia shrugged, swinging
her feet. “I don’t care. Vincent adores me.”

“He does.” Frost, with a
sigh.

“And, FYI, I’ve never seen
anyone move like you did. I mean, seriously, where the hell did that come
from?”

“That’s a good question.”
Felix suddenly appeared, strolling into the kitchen, and my breath left me in a
shuddering wheeze.

He looked…flushed. Like…sex
flushed. I glared at the counter top.

“We should spar. It’d be
fun.” He was topless, his hair damp from a shower, his eyes sparkling with
mirth. He wore black sweat pants and nothing more, his skin gleaming like a
polished pearl in the artificial light of the kitchen, making the dark lines of
his swirling tattoo deliciously lickable. He looked so damned edible that I
didn’t actually understand what he just said.

Counter top, Red!
Oh yeah.

“Spar? Fun? Why?”
Wow,
my conversational skills are epic.

Felix smiled and shrugged,
the action making all kinds of glorious things happen with his pecs and biceps.

Drool.

 
“Could be interesting,” he said as his eyes dipped down
to my bracelets. I jolted, wrenching my gaze away and concentrated on a bit of
gauze between my fingers.

“Don’t shower until the
wound’s finished healing,” Frost told me softly, helping my arm back into my
button-down sleeve. “Shouldn’t be more than an hour or so, by the looks of it.”

I spun around to face him,
so I didn’t have to look at Felix anymore. “Russia?” I asked.

He gave me a smile as soft
as his voice.

“No,” he replied.

I frowned. “Romania?” I
asked, trying to remember all the places where it might snow, because well
let’s face it; he hardly looked as if he was fond of the sun before he was a Vampire.

Frost laughed. “No.”

I pursed my lips in
thought, and then cringed. “Sweden?” My geographical knowledge sucked.

Frost tossed the bloodied
swabs in the trash and smiled again. “No, not there either.”

Porcia laughed. “It’s the
accent. It’s so warped; no one can figure it out.” She wrinkled her nose as she
smiled. “So glad I got rid of mine.”

Felix stood beside me at
the breakfast bar, tossing down bread and meats, relishes and spreads. My eyes
snagged on a packet of pepperoni and my mouth filled with saliva. Jeepers, I
was starved. I peered up at Felix, wondering if I could steal the packet
without him noticing.

“Yes, because sounding
like a high school queen bee is so much better.” Felix grinned. Porcia lifted
her hand to her head, her forefinger and thumb making an ‘L’ shape. Felix
laughed.

“Switzerland?” I asked
Frost. He slid into a stool next to Porcia, and shook his head smiling.

I went back to eyeing the
pepperoni and thinking of snowy places.

“Where are the wolves
now?” Porcia asked, letting her head flop onto Frost’s shoulder.

“They have been given
privacy to discuss the situation in the library. Osiris is in his den making
calls,” Felix informed us, as he buttered slabs of bread and slapped on some
slivers of ham.

I wondered, as my mouth
watered, what they were discussing in the library. Whether to keep me or kill
me? If it was the former, they could bugger off. If it was the latter, they
could bugger off. I wasn’t a pet or easy prey. However intimidating Vincent
might have been.

Blah.

“Is Mark awake yet?” I
asked. Apparently, it wasn’t the shock of my identity that had caused him to
collapse, it was the fact that I had broken his ribs with my shoulders,
pulverized them with my foot, and then shredded his lung with the shattered
pieces when I hauled back with my chain around his throat. His body was
healing, and the pain caused a blackout. I felt
mildly
guilty.

“Yes. He’s sat up,
partaking in the discussion,” Felix answered blandly, spreading on horseradish
sauce, then some roast chicken, cheese, onions, tomatoes, the pepperoni—
sad
face—
and some more cheese.

“What are they talking
about?” I asked then, my eyes fixed on the clubhouse sandwich he was building.
Gherkins,
garlic sauce, shredded beef…Drools. Probably for Mark. He was bound to be
hungry after all that healing.

“You,” he answered simply,
slapping a piece of bread on top, setting the massive sandwich on a plate, and
then slicing it into two triangles.

“Des doesn’t like me,” I
stated, watching mournfully as he started putting all the food away. I’d have
to make my own later, after my shower.

“Nope. Definitely not,”
Porcia piped in with a grin. “You showed her up in front of her Alpha. In front
of
Vincent
. Add your reputation into that, and you’ve probably shot
right up to first on her who-to-kick-the-living-shit-out-of list.”

I frowned over at her. “My
reputation?”

“As a wolf-killer,” Felix
supplied happily, dumping chips onto the plate next to the sandwich.

As I looked at the food, I
nearly cried. I wanted a sandwich. My tummy rumbled a grumpy affirmative.

“Is that what they call
hunters?” I asked, curious despite myself about these particular wolves.
Okay,
fine. I’m curious about Vincent. But did you see him? He was huge! Built like a
god – all brawn and beauty with intelligent, shrewd eyes.
There was this
strange tug when I thought of him. Even as his image flashed in my mind, I
wanted to go to the library and just….
What? Look at him? Maybe
.
Listen
to him? Probably
. The wolf in me recognized an Alpha, but the wolf in me
also realized it did not want to be dominated. I wasn’t a submissive character,
and the idea of having an Alpha boss me around was what was keeping me away
from the library and in the kitchen.

“Um…” Porcia as she
fidgeted, biting her lip. “No. I’ve never heard them use that term before. I
guess that’s just what they call you.”

My brow furrowed,
disconcerted to be called such an explicit name. Yes, I had killed wolves, but
I’d also taken out Shifters, Ghouls, Vampires and Fae, at the commands of their
sires and lords. Who had I killed that would reward me with such a clearly
hateful name?

Suddenly, Felix pushed the
plate with the big sandwich, distracting me from my thoughts. I looked at the
sandwich, then at him, then at the sandwich, then at him. He smiled, eyes
dancing like trees in the wind, and the ice in my chest melted away.

Do I want to eat him or
the sandwich? Oh-h-h damn… that’s a toughy.

“You need to eat,” he
said, by way of explanation, that hints-at-my-dimple smile that I was pretty
sure I was starting to love, making an appearance.

“You made me a sandwich?”
I asked. Apparently, surprised delight takes away brain cells.
Articulate,
Red. Real articulate.

"Well, I would have
given you blood, but I figured you'd enjoy this better."
 

I wrinkled my nose. And yet…
Darling, sweet man.
He
pressed me back into a bar stool and nudged the plate at me again. When I
glanced at Frost and Porcia, their faces were carefully blank, but watching us
curiously. Watching them, I lifted one half of the sandwich and took a massive
bite.
I should really work on perfecting my own blank face.

I moaned, “Damn that’s
good…” The meats were tender, the sauces and spreads tasty, the salad bits
crisp and the gherkins sharp. It was like heaven in my mouth, and I couldn’t
believe I hadn’t eaten since that morning. Yesterday morning then.

Felix cleared his throat,
and Porcia blushed something furious, even with a straight face. Frost just
looked really interested in his cuff. “Anyway, pet, Osiris wants to discuss the
hunt, and Chicago, with us while the wolves are chatting.”

“What?” Porcia’s spine
snapped straight. “How come she gets to go?” she asked Felix in a whiny tone.

I couldn’t answer, my
mouth full of heaven.

Felix pinched the bridge
of his nose. “We discussed this, sweetheart—”

Sweetheart? How come
she gets ‘sweetheart’ and I get ‘pet’?

“Where I’d be going…” His
hand dropped to the counter. “You barely look legal, Porcia.”

My brows shot up, and I looked
at Porcia again. She did look kind of young. For anyone who didn’t know her,
she probably looked only about seventeen, eighteen most. Definitely not old
enough to drink—
funny
. Felix was right. When hunting, you had to be able
to get in anywhere, whether through breaking and entering—which I’d done—or by
walking right in the front door—also done. Surprisingly the latter was harder. I
have a fake ID just for the times when I get carded at nightclubs.