Chapter 9 Episode IX

Victoria's POV

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"You're not ugly. For a human."

I could tell from his voice that it had taken Marcus a lot of effort to admit it.

"And you're not nice." I replied, kicking up my feet. "For an angel."

The butler was my baby sitter for the afternoon. Biscuit had locked me up in an ancient room on the third floor. It had an ornate bed probably older than my grandmother, a creaky desk and a closet.

You'd think rich people could afford to lock a girl up with some Netflix.

Nope .

My first instinct was to break open the windows, then pick the lock, then flat out attack the walls like a mad woman.

No give. Alcatraz should probably take notes.

About an hour later, Marcus came inside with a tray of weird looking violet fruit.

He didn't try to explain and I didn't give a fück about the botany. He just watched me eat my alien fruit like a gorilla.

I had to imagine I looked highly attractive.

"Biscuit is feeding me fruit." I said. "He must really want to torture me."

Marcus rolled his eyes.

"If by torture, you mean feed you something healthy, then certainly."

"Is it just me or are you always this fun?" Now that my stomach wasn't growling, I pulled open the drawers on the desk. Nothing.

"I merely state facts. That's all." Marcus sighed. "You aren't going to find a gun in there."

"A girl can hope." I said, heading to the closet. I tossed out the neatly folded clothes, one by one.

"A girl can also shut up and sit down." The butler said, trying to catch the shirts I threw.

"Marcus, Marcus." I tsked. "Haven't we established that isn't going to happen by now?"

After some digging, I found loose change and an old photo. I realized that it must have been taken in this very room. Two small boys and a little girl were smiling at me. All three of them had midnight black hair and blue eyes.

It took me a moment to tell the boys apart.

I looked at Marcus. He was staring out the window in annoyance, and he hadn't noticed me finding the photo.

I folded it and silently tucked it in my shoe.

"So." I said, trying to make conversation. "What makes Biscuit think I won't hit you on the head and hold you hostage?"

Marcus looked at me like it was the dumbest idea he'd heard.

"Because as much as he wants you to believe that it's for your protection," He stated, with an air of superiority. "That phoenix like me way more than you."

I eyed the red bird nipping on fruit, fondly cooing at Marcus. When she noticed me watching her, she picked up her piece and flew into the closet for privacy.

The chicken had more table manners than I did.

"So she'll turn me into a human cigarette if I hurt you?"

"If you touch me." He corrected. "This is a new coat."

I shook my head, sighing. "And we were getting along so well."

Marcus didn't have time to whistle for his pet, because I slammed the closet door, trapping the bird inside and held a nice, shiny dagger against the butler's neck.

Earlier in the fountain today, I'd nicked one of Biscuit's blades. Purely for business.

I'd also doused him in ice cold water, revealing his chiselled abs.

For kicks and giggles.

"Now. Why am I here, Marcus?"

The butler was clearly not used to being threatened. He turned pale, his eyes fixed on the blade, not daring to move.

"I don't know." He gulped.

"Can this thing kill you?" I wondered to myself, observing him.

"Yes." He said, hesitantly.

I was surprised. I theorised something could kill them. I hadn't expected to find it so quickly though.

"How? Why ?"

"Guardian blades." Marcus said, swallowing. "Any Immortal with a even trace of mortal blood in their ancestry can die by them."

Not so Immortal here then . I thought.

From my limited knowledge about their species, I realized it certainly wouldn't have been easy to kill them in Haven where all of them would be pure breeds.

Haven, being the dimension all these miserable bästards came from. The dimension no one could seem to cross over to again.

Also, Biscuit seemed to have an awful number of Guardian blades for a common civilian.

It hit me that I hadn't asked a very important question.

"What's his name, Marcus?"

Right then, the door creaked open. I hid the knife in my pants and shoved Marcus to the bed. I tripped on the floorboard and landed over him.

I could only imagine what this looked like to my visitor.

Biscuit eyed both of us suspiciously. Marcus opened his mouth, but looking at me, he closed it again.

Wise choice.

"We, um, I-" I tried to explain. What the hell was I trying to explain? "Well, your butler is too lazy and your floorboards are loose."

Neither of which explained why I was on top of him. On a fricking bed . It didn't help that Marcus looked like road kill.

Well, that's what you get when you didn't want me to ' touch' your coat .

Karma's a b---h.

I got off Marcus, and he almost ran down the hall.

Now that we were alone, Biscuit cocked his head. I held up a hand.

"Save it. It was an accident."

"You don't have to explain." He shrugged. "Just thought I'd let you know he turns 203 this year. But no judgement if you're into that Twilight shît. You do you, honey."

I wanted to hit him with something.

Again . I quickly realised the SOB butler had taken my knife. So I settled for the next best option.

I threw a pillow at him.

"As much as I'm up for a pillow fight, because truly, I'm a twelve year old girl on the inside," he rolled his eyes. "I have your first assignment."

First ? "How many are there?"

"You'll know soon."

I groaned. I forgot I was talking to Mr. Classified-Top-Secret-Must-Not-Tell-Victoria-Anything.

Yeah, I needed better titles.

"So what is it?"

Biscuit had something draped over his arm that I hadn't paid attention to. It was one of those expensive dress covers.

"No." I said, shaking my head even before he unzipped the thing.

"Yes." He said, smiling, holding out a sheer silk ocean blue gown. "We're going to a little ball this evening."

With heels and champagne flutes and socialising? Nope .

"Give me a gun." I groaned. "Ask me to kill someone. Not fücking dance."

Biscuit smiled.

"Oh, I'm asking you to kill someone.

While you dance."