AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I make sure the door is secure and set my keys and wallet on the counter in the kitchen. My living room and kitchen are one room. The kitchen runs the length of the apartment to the left of the door. The living room is on the right, the wall of windows beside it. Everything is clean and in its place; I don’t like a mess. The furniture and walls are dark grey. The counters and island are creams. I go to my bathroom to shower off the events of the night.
When I designed the place, I wanted a large bathroom with all the best. It’s larger than most apartments, with a free-standing tub in the middle of the room and another inside the glass doors on the room's left side. The colors match the rest of the apartment. I open the large shower doors and turn on the many nozzles.
I take off my clothes and place them in the laundry basket in the closet beside the shower. That was another thing that annoyed me constantly. Ava never cleaned up after herself. She knew it bugged me, so she did it even more.
I step into the water. The temperature is perfect. Steaming.
I used to hate my white hair and my crystal-blue eyes. It was the cause of many judgmental stares and odd looks, and it was the root of my father's hatred towards me. My hair didn’t turn white when I was turned into a vampire. I was born this way. I was an anomaly. I shaved it off several times, but it just grew back. It’s been years since I decided to embrace it. I shave the sides short and leave the top long. I scrub it harshly. The cheetah touched it. I hate the feeling of someone else's hands on it. That was how my father would drag me outside, clenching my hair in his fist.
I drop my head to the shower wall and close my eyes. I hate thinking of him. Her action brought back memories I would rather leave in the past.
I pull it together and finish washing, stepping out and drying off. My tattoos stand out on my light skin. I have spent hours in the tattoo chair, covering my body with memories, hoping it would expel them from my head. My arms, chest, and back are covered in color. I have started adding art to my legs, but I have a long way to go.
I don’t bother with clothes and walk to the kitchen naked. I leave the lights off. As a vampire, I am more comfortable in the dark. My vision is the same in any type of light. I don’t sleep in a coffin but a king-size bed. I do sleep even though I don’t need much of it. Many of the vampire traits you’ve read about are just a bunch of shit. I like sleeping during the day, but that’s because of my job and my mission.
I don’t survive on just blood. I eat food too. I open the fridge and take out a blood bag. Drinking from the vein is preferable, but it’s a hassle finding willing donors. I drink from humans, vampires, and any shifter—every vampire hopes for a mate to sustain them. Once you find the one meant for you, you will never drink from another. Ryker has described drinking from Serenity as heaven.
I roll my eyes as I empty the bag. Sometimes it’s sickening how happy he is. He was a grouchy, fierce asshole before he met Serenity. Now, he’s just an asshole. I ignore the twinge of envy.
I am alone. I enjoy being alone. I make sure the counter didn’t get any blood on it and pause at the corner of it, tapping my fingertips on the files that are waiting for me to open. In order to complete my missions, I have a contact that sends me the files of the men that need to be taught a lesson. I haven’t looked into the other two they sent me. I give them another glance, promising myself that I will get to it tomorrow, and go to my bedroom. All of the walls except the one my canopy bed sits against are windows. Metal bars jut up from all four corners of the frame, connecting across the top. I can lay on my bed, look out over the city, and not worry about anyone seeing in. The windows are tinted for privacy. I lay on top of the covers with my hands behind my head.
My scalp itches with the memory of her hands on it, but it turns into my father's hands. He was a violent, horrible man. He hated me on sight because of my hair. He did unspeakable things to my mom and me. He was an enormous man, with thick arms and a grip you couldn’t break, no matter how hard you tried. He was why my mom died too soon, and I chose to become a vampire. I wanted to feel more powerful than him for once in my life.
After I was turned, I went to see him. Maybe it was my new status, or my vision was finally clear, but he wasn’t a giant anymore. He was small and pathetic. I showed him my fangs and enjoyed the fear on his face for a change.
I can still feel the greasy strands of his hair in my palm as I dragged him outside to where he killed my mom.
It was the best day of my life, the day I killed my father.
Chapter Three
Marie
I’m bent over the counter with my chin on my hands, watching the coffee brew, when my computer dings with a new message. Quinn insisted on buying me one for business when I couldn’t afford one. I use it to update the website and filter messages for him. I don’t bother to move; whatever it is can wait until my miracle brew is done. Most days, I live on caffeine and frozen meals. The business is picking up, so my paycheck should increase soon.
I had a spectacular orgasm and slept deep through the night. I have to go to work soon, face the woman and her sister today to give them the pictures. I have to be prepared for whatever reaction she will have. They always have a million questions, and I have to have the answers. Quinn will be there with me to back me up, at least.
The pot fills enough so I can quickly fill a cup and put it back to fill the rest of the way. I wished I had creamer but had to settle with milk. At the first sip, I sigh.
I settle at the table and bring up the new message. I blink. Well, that’s original.
BITCH!It is written in capital letters.
It’s probably from an angry man we followed. Instead of being mad at themselves for doing the cheating, they lash out at the ones that told their wife the truth. I brush it off, making a mental note to tell Quinn about it.
“Marie, open the door,” Ava yells as she bangs on the door.
Shit. I never told her where I lived. “Hold on,” I yell back. I don’t know why we are yelling; the walls are thin as fuck. I open the door, still holding my cup.
“I brought breakfast,” she says, smiling.
“How did you find me?” I ask as she brushes past me, setting the bags of food on the table. I have to give her credit; she didn’t blink at the state of my tiny apartment.
“I called Jax.” She shrugs, turning to me. “Holy crap,” she screeches.
“What?” I ask.
“Holy tattoos. This is what you’ve been hiding?” She stares at my bare legs. I forgot I didn’t put on pants. “You should be showing them off. Your legs are beautiful.”
