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AERON
"Are you still being stupid about this?” Slash asked through the earpiece. I’m not sure why I thought it had been a good idea to call them to tell them I had arrived at The Revival. Weirdly enough, Samael had been 100% on board with it, going so far as to help me craft my words so that I could give them a story whilst also dragging out the information we needed.
“Look, Slash-”
Samael cut in. “You thought that this was a smart idea. And it is. I do, however, want to let you know that Killian’s at work today.” That’s all Samael said before he ended the three-way call. I knew I would be in trouble when Killian found out.
Pushing off the interview wouldn’t do anything, and since I was already here, sitting in their parking lot, I decided to go in. Undivided attention from the employees met my entrance as I was all but herded into the main office with several other reporters, one of whom was Jamie. One look at the four people in this room as they took their seats, and I couldn’t fathom any of the journalists Alex had brought in here being Jenny’s contact.
My mind wandered over the meals I’d construct from the humans sitting before me as if I had walked into a fucking buffet of options. The woman would definitely be served with Brussels sprouts, although I couldn’t explain why. Jamie’s thick legs would be paired with a white wine and pasta, and Thomas…
I grimaced at the thought of him on my plate. Something about his scowl turned me off from even thinking about it, upending my hunger as I focused on the woman leaning across the table, her tits pressed against the glazed wood so hard that I could see her full cleavage. I might have been tempted to stare if she was moderately attractive and if I enjoyed the company of a woman. Which she knew I didn’t. Right? My lips scrunched up in disapproval as I ignored her question, directing my attention to the journalist I had recognized before, Jamie.
Their boss sat to the side, his legs crossed, as he surveyed the three journalists before me. Stacey was off to the side, snapping pictures. I hadn’t the faintest clue why I remembered her name. I idly tapped the arm rest of my chair in threes and then in fives, alternating patterns to keep my attention.
I had been preparing myself for this interview since Jamie had messaged me twelve hours ago. I just knew that by not telling Killian, I would suffer his wrath once he found out. Which was why we had agreed that Samael would keep Killian home this morning. Unfortunately, Samael was a fucktwit and obviously wanted to see me crash and burn.
Maybe we shouldn’t have bothered with this plan because all three of the ‘top’ journalists seemed to be fumbling over their words as they tried to ask questions that anyone could google. Fuck if I was going to go through all this shit again. This time without the eye candy of my little Kitten trying damn hard not to meet my gaze. “Is someone going to professionally conduct this interview, or am I just here so that you can delve into my college relationship?”
The girl giggled, her chest jiggling as she did so. I wanted to punch her in the tits. It was too bad that tits were so fatty; otherwise, I would have enjoyed staring at them, fantasizing about how I’d cook them. Grilled? Roasted? Ah fuck. With some asparagus and baked in a rose wine sauce? Sign me up. I realized I was staring and returned my attention to her face. To the naked eye, I was blushing about being caught falling into the same trap that every other man did. But I had just been caught idling my next meal—not her per se—and that was fucking embarrassing.
James butted into the conversation, “So there was one. Between you and Killian.”
I bit my tongue before answering. Why was everyone so interested in Killian? I mean, fuck, I knew why I was or why Samael and Slash were. But not everybody had inner demons like we did. “James, I’m not going to discuss that without Killian here,” I replied stoically. I was supposed to be professional. Despite the blue hair I was sporting, I thought I was doing pretty well. I hadn’t even cracked one of my crazy smiles yet.
“It’s Jamie,” he hissed at me. “But he mentioned the same thing.”
Then why the fuck was he trying to ask me? My eyes lingered on the youngest journalist, a girl I recognized as one of Killian’s pseudo-friends and someone from the college we both attended a few years ago. Close enough to be acquaintances but not besties. He had mentioned her once, and his description… or rather Dark’s, was spot on. The fact that she was here and not near Killian meant that she had traded him for a story. The way her lips curled up as she drank in everything about me was off-putting. I had already hated her when Dark told me about her. Now? I despised her.
“Shouldn’t you have gotten his permission before you wasted my time?” I directed my statement to Jamie, watching the other journalists shift uncomfortably in their chairs. I really could close my restaurant at will, but it was the principle of the thing.
The thought of me giving them a true exclusive waded through my mind; cue the maniacal laughter as I tapped the table in sets of three. I would have loved to see their faces as I detailed the true life of Phoenix, the chef, but the moment died away just as quickly. Serial killers and corrupt detectives had all the fun when they were caught. Press releases. Investigative videos into their kills and the chaos of their mind. Personal interview…
Cannibals were roasted alive with no one to eat them afterward.
Thomas, the most trustworthy of the three—if only by looks—spoke next, “We’re not here merely for that story. We’re here for an exclusive. If we must exclude that part of your life, so be it. If Killian agrees to share his side of the story, we might ask you for further information.”
I knew they were full of shit, but I gave them pieces of what they were looking for. They leaned forward, furiously scribbling on their pads as I spoke. I gave them tidbits about college and the few competitions I won before a newspaper caught wind of my talents. No one was the wiser that my recipes came from hacking up human body parts and filing them in my kitchen.
I paused so they could catch up, remembering how the fame drew me into the limelight, something I realized I loved. For so long, I had been ridiculed for my behavior, my likes and dislikes, and my obsession. The public didn’t know that side of me, so I created a persona that was desired and praised. Primrose loved Phoenix. It was too bad that Phoenix was just the persona I hid behind.
The scratching of pens came to a stop, so I continued, moving from college into the career I took up, creating videos in my kitchen and occasionally working at a restaurant just outside of Primrose. However, my true love came with freedom, which was why I started Gourmet Eats.
Again, I paused. While I had glossed over a bit, they now had most of the story. I had talked about Gourmet Eats until people’s ears bled, so unless they had Killian agree to an exclusive, we were done here.
Their silence was unnerving as they waited for me to spill more. “That’s all there is.” Aside from the cannibalism, murders, and general crime we were involved in. Killian was so getting a new job after I left here. He didn’t need to spend all of his time at a place that not only wouldn’t appreciate his work but would turn him into one of these sharks biting after gossip column stories. I wouldn’t see my Kitten reduced to a joke.
“Phoenix,” Thomas began. I was really beginning to hate the name I’d chosen on a whim. Samael had mentioned that we needed something for the public to call us by and I had stupidly chosen something after my favorite mythical creature. As it stood now, I much preferred Aeron.
I held up my hand, careful to leave them with a gentle smile. I didn’t want to spook them. I was here for answers—answers about Jenny’s contact. I wasn’t a detective like Merchant, but I could pick up some things. However, I couldn’t fucking stay here as they fumbled around to make this story work. I was pretty sure the only person doing their job correctly was Stacey, and that was a pretty low bar to set. “I’m going to the bathroom. If there are any follow-up questions when I get back, have at it. Otherwise, I’ll take my leave.”
That was generous, right? I slipped out of the conference room, eyes searching for the bathroom sign and landing on the family bathroom at the end of the hall. I just needed a damn minute to cool off before I ripped those journalists apart. Or worse, started planning their demise.
I glanced down at my watch. Another half-hour of this shit, and I’d be free to fuck off and do something else. Anything else. I should have just told them to reschedule, knowing that when Killian found out I was here, I was going to be in deep shit. He might have been my Kitten, but his temper rivaled mine, and fuck if I wanted to be on the other end of that.
SAMAEL
“Chief Matthews wants you in his office.”
