Chapter 96
Jorick caught Katelina's hand and they trooped through the snow, towards the forest at the back of the house. As they walked, she contemplated Jorick's history. The letters had taught her that he'd quit being an Executioner in the late 1860s, in fact if that had been his last job, then he'd quit in 1868. Many of the vampires in Oren's war coven didn't seem that old. In fact, Oren would have to be the oldest in order to lead, right? So, why would the rest hate him? It wasn't as if he'd done anything to some of them, like the vampire with the tattooed face.
"Ah, Micah," Jorick replied out loud. "He just dislikes me on principle."
"Really? That's great." She couldn't help but think that out of all the vampires in the world, she'd picked the least popular one. True, she'd never dated what anyone could term a "real winner" yet, so she supposed it made sense that it wouldn't be any different in the vampire world.
"I wouldn't say I'm not a winner," Jorick exclaimed with feigned insult.
"Would you stop doing that? It's bad enough that I know you can hear everything I think, but when you comment on it-"
He interrupted her, grinning, "As you wish. Now, be quiet. I'll have enough trouble with you along. Animals can smell humans and they fear you."
"Wonderful."
The woods were dark and shadowy. Things scuttled in the branches and underbrush, but always just out of sight. Dead weeds snapped under Katelina's feet and, though she tried to be quiet, Jorick kept sending waves of irritation at her. She was sure that he imagined abandoning her more than once, but to his credit he didn't do it. When the frozen minutes had ticked by and her toes had gone to tingles, Jorick managed to scavenge a wounded raccoon from a thicket of undergrowth.
"Please, tell me you're not-"
He was. He was going to feed right in front of her.
She released his hand and hung back, thoroughly ill.
"Turn away if you wish," he commented lightly, and gently scooped the terrified animal up.
She wanted to close her eyes, but watched with morbid fascination as the struggling creature suddenly lay still in Jorick's hands. She was sure he was using a mind trick, or "enchantment", possibly the one he'd threatened to use on her last night, but she didn't like to contemplate it. Slowly, he lifted the raccoon to his mouth, and she turned away as his teeth punctured the animal's flesh. She swore she could hear him swallowing; hear the blood sliding down his throat. Her stomach grew light and queasy at the prospect.
When she finally turned around Jorick had cast the carcass aside into a nearby bush, and was wiping his mouth. "That's revolting," she stated flatly, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Not nearly as revolting as the way you feed." His tone was serious, but his eyes twinkled.
"Yes it is!" Her gaze strayed to the dead lump in the bushes. "Don't you get fur in your mouth?"
It seemed to be the last question he expected, but he shrugged. "To a point, yes. It's unavoidable."
"It's gross! Dirty animal fur in your mouth? And I kiss you? Ugh!" She spit in the snow, as if casting away imaginary hairs.
His amusement grew. "You find that more repulsive than the rest of it?"
"What? Oh you mean the, uh-" blood was another word she couldn't say, so she didn't. "Well, yeah, kind of. I mean you swallow all of that. But gross, dirty animal hair? Wild animals have fleas! And diseases! And germs! Sure, you can't get sick, but what's to stop some glob of gross fur getting lodged in your teeth and incubating some horrible disease that I'll end up with? Have you thought about that? Has anyone thought about that?"
Jorick rolled his eyes. "I doubt very much that something like that could happen."
"But you don't know!" she pointed out. "How often are you brushing? And will toothpaste even do anything against Ebola or the Black Plague or any of those other animal diseases?"
"Ebola?"
"The monkey disease. You know, those little monkeys? They look all cuddly and then, wham! You've got pustules full of blood and you're dying."
He couldn't hide his mirth. "I'm not exactly feeding on any monkeys, am I?"
"Not right now, but you never know." She crossed her arms over her chest stubbornly. "I'm just saying, it's something you should be concerned with."
"Fine." He held up an appeasing hand. "I'll avoid monkeys in future, and I'll check the back of the toothpaste to see if it kills the Black Plague." She glared and he walked towards her, a look of wry amusement on his face. "You worry about the strangest things, do you know that?"
She rolled her eyes. "No I don't. But, speaking of things I worry about, what am I going to eat?" Not that she was hungry anymore.
He came to a stop before her and looked thoughtful. "How do you feel about raccoon?" He chuckled at her horror stricken face, then turned serious. "Remember? Last night, I bought a collection of that plastic wrapped stuff you find so enjoyable."
She started to tell him she was sick of junk food and instant meals, but decided it wasn't worth it. He'd have already read her mind, anyway. "At least you thought of it, I guess," she commented, her tone morose despite his good intentions.
"Which is more than you did. I can tell you're not an organizer." He wrapped his arms around her and folded her shivering form against him. "But it's all right. I know that you modern humans' lives are far too chaotic to take time to think about those things anymore. You're too used to convenience because you have no time for anything else."
"Nothing wrong with that," she replied. Her eyes lingered on his face and she could feel his body slowly warm beneath her fingers, as the raccoon's blood circulated through him.
"I suppose. If you enjoy it." He leaned close, until she could feel his breath on her cheek. She stared up into his dark eyes and felt herself drifting away in their depths. She was suddenly keenly aware of him; how close he was, the musky scent of his skin, the warmth that seeped through his shirt.
A faint smile played on his lips and he made as if to kiss her, but pulled away at the last moment. "I wouldn't want to give you the black plague," he murmured with too much amusement.
Before she could comment, he captured her lips and kissed her deeply. She responded, noting the faint coppery flavor of his breath, and tried not to think about it. After all, she hadn't caught anything yet, and he didn't exactly taste like animal fur.
He released her reluctantly and stepped back, his hands still on her waist. "We should head back. The raccoon will suffice for tonight, but I'm afraid tomorrow I'll need something a bit more substantial."
"How much more substantial?" she asked fearfully.
He saw her look of horror and shrugged it off. "We'll worry about it when the time comes."
At his words her shoulders drooped. "God, I hope by tomorrow we'll be home."
He only laughed.
