Page 47 of Barbi and the Villain

“The moment has come. I need your help. We’re going to follow that nice and good-looking man, but we must not make a sound, okay? We need to be like ghosts. He can’t find out we’re following him.” At least not until I find a way to make my case and convince him I can be his food bank. It’s a win-win. I bet there aren’t too many healthy—and pretty—girls he can feed from, not with the plague having killed nearly everyone.

But the moment I imagine him finding another pretty girl to sink his teeth into and brush his lips over her skin and hold her that close, I see red.

No, he will not do that!

I will feed him—exclusively. And he can protect me and my babies, and maybe along the way realize that this is all fate and we are meant to be.

I don’t believe in coincidences.

The mere fact that I’m in this weird—not so fictional—world is testament enough.

This is fate. And I can only embrace it.

I sigh dreamily at the thought. Ah, the romantic in me is coming out in full force after lying dormant for so long. Well, not exactly dormant, merely relegated to my dreams. But now I’ve found the perfect man!

He’s handsome—always a requirement. He’s strong and steadfast. But most of all he’s kind!

He saved my PomPom—and me, but my baby is more important in this equation. He also killed that annoying Ivan and though I don’t necessarily condone murder, I say good riddance.

I blink slowly. Damn it! I almost got lost in my thoughts again and my good-looking friend is getting farther away from me!

“PomPom,” I whisper to my pretty baby. She has her tongue out as she smiles at me with her eyes. “I must count on you to make sure BonBon is quiet. Can you do that for me?”

She releases a low whine as she brushes her head against my legs. Immediately after, she turns to BonBon, her expression one of savage feminine authority. She barks a few times and BonBon lowers his head in submission.

“Good girl.” I pat her head. And since I don’t want to play favorites, I turn to BonBon and pat him too. “Good boy.”

They both preen, happy at the praise.

Nodding at them, I get up and signal for them to follow me in silence.

He’s already out of sight, damn it! I walk briskly in the direction he went, making sure to avoid areas with high foliage that might give away our presence.

He’s strong. I wouldn’t put it past him to have super senses.

But as we cover more distance and get closer to him, he doesn’t turn to chastise me for following him. He continues on, oblivious.

A satisfied smile pulls at my lips. We’ll manage to do this.

He walks slowly. His clothes are so tattered, there are only a few strands covering his torso and the semblance of a pair of shorts on his lower body. His skin is flawless, but black soot from the fire mars that perfection.

He needs a shower.

I need a shower too, I realize as I raise my arm to sniff myself.

God! One day in a cell and I already stink. And he held me close to him.

Oh my! Is that why he left me behind? Did my smell bother him? He had his lips on my neck. Could he detect the cell stench then too?

This isn’t fair! The man smelled divine after years left to rot in that cell and I stink like a sewer after only a day.

Now another thought crosses my mind. What if he cannot hear us, but he can smell me?

Even PomPom smells better because she had royal treatment. BonBon too.

“Do you think I smell, too?” I ask the dogs in a low voice. They have better noses. They would tell me if I stank, no?

I stop for a moment, letting PomPom sniff me.

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