Page 87 of Resurrection
The silver doors of the elevator slide open, and Marcus ushers me inside, the Guardians stepping in and hiding me from preying eyes with a living wall made of muscle. As soon as I hear the ping announcing we are on our way up, I brace myself.
“Minchia!” he spitsfuckin Italian venomously.
“Now, now Marcus, no need for profanities.”
“If I didn’t respect you as much as I do, I would’ve put you over my knee and spanked you like the disobedient child you act like.” Marcus growls at me through clenched teeth. “And don’t even try to say it’s because of Andrei, you hear me? Do you think he would want to see you wasting away like this?”
“You might be right.” My lips are still numb, but I manage to push the words out. “I might’ve delayed feeding for too long.” Blowing a breath through pursed lips, I try to smile reassuringly at him, but judging by the glare I receive in return, I fail miserably. “Let’s get this done with and I’ll feed … I promise.”
“There is no need for promises, April.” When my eyebrows climb all the way to my hairline, he frowns at me. “I’ll be standing next to you when you feed to make sure you go along with it.”
“I can tap your vein,” I supply sarcastically, and he snorts.
“Don’t tempt me, or I’ll stop the elevator right now.”
Wisely, I keep my mouth shut.
Feeding makes me too relaxed, and I need to be alert right now. This crazy plan of mine is an opportunity to learn what our enemy is doing, and I will not mess it up. The sooner I find the vermin that killed my friend, the faster I’ll get revenge for his death. At the moment, that’s all that matters. If I knew what would happen next, I would’ve fed on Marcus without giving him a heads up. Just like the old times.
The elevator doors ping loudly and open with a whoosh.
Chapter Eighty
APRIL
La Boucherie opens in front of my eyes, and I have to gulp down the panic trying to choke me. The personality they awoke in me when they turned me into one of them purrs at the elegance and luxury spread before my eyes. But April? The girl who raided dumpsters so she had food in her belly cringes at the fancy shining tables covered with crisp white tablecloths, the sheer black drapery decorating the wall-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Gray marble tiles sparkle beneath my stilettoes as we step in to meet the hostess, and it only drives home the fact that I don’t belong here. Even she is dressed in perfectly fitting clothing, her black pants hugging her curves and her white shirt stretching across her breasts. Blonde hair coiled in a no-nonsense bun, she smiles brightly at us before doing a double take at Marcus.
“May I have your names, sir?” she asks a tad bit breathier than would be considered professional.
“April,” I tell her, my voice flat.
“Umm, yes … yes, of course, madam,” she stutters, but she keeps darting her gaze at the man standing next to me as if shecan’t help herself, like he will disappear if she doesn’t have him in sight. “Follow me.”
The hostess leads us to a table for two that’s pressed against the tall windows, the entire time glancing over her shoulder to make sure we are following her. Her brown eyes widen comically when the Guardians join us, and I almost laugh. The poor woman is having an overload of handsome right now, and I feel sorry for her. It took me a long time to get used to how beautiful their faces are and how perfect their bodies are sculpted. She must be new working among the monsters ruling the world if she keeps gaping like a carp out of water.
“My name is Amy.” She clears her throat, wringing her fingers in front of her when we stop at our table. “If there is anything you need, just let me know. I’ll come by often to check on you. Your server will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you,” I mumble under my breath, and Marcus pulls a chair out for me, waiting until I sit to take his own seat.
“We will be fine, love. No need to check on us. You can go now.” He nudges his chin forward, telling her to leave. She stands frozen, watching every move we make as if transfixed.
“Yes, I should go now.” Keeping her unblinking gaze on him, she speaks like she is dazed.
“Are you okay, Amy?” My hand reaches for her, but I stop myself at the last minute, fisting it and dropping it in my lap.
“What?” Blinking rapidly, she turns her wide eyes on me, taking fast deep breaths. “Oh, yes.” With a nervous giggle, she lowers the tone of her voice. “I’m sorry, I recently started working here and I’m still not used to seeing all the ho—I mean all the beautiful people that come.” Ducking her head, she tucks an invisible hair behind her ear.
My heart stops.
If I wasn’t looking at her so intently, I would’ve missed the small inked swirl on the side of her middle finger. A while ago, Iwould’ve thought nothing of it, but after seeing the underground rooms the Council kept for whatever magic mages performed for them, I recognized the symbol. I stared at it for hours after Andrei died. Two serpents circling, biting each other’s tail to form a closed loop frame a pentagram made of branches, tiny leaves popping out of them here and there. In the center of the crossing lines that form the symbol, a drop of blood is filled with black ink pierced with a stake.
My blood curdles in my veins.
She is either a mage or a human, just like Sara, and she is helping them bring death and destruction to me and mine. Marcus must’ve noticed me staring too long because he kicks my shin under the table. The hard point of his shiny black loafers bumps against my bone, bringing tears to my eyes. Snapping my head in his direction, I glare at him, darting my eyes a few times at the hostess pointedly.
“That’s understandable, Amy,” Marcus purrs, snaring her attention away from my gawking. “I’ll make sure to stop by more often if you’d like.” The woman sighs when he winks at her, and my lips twist in a grimace.
“We’d like to order now,” I tell her dryly.
