Page 123 of Bite Marks

I stepped stiffly into the elevator behind Ren, my eyes feasting on the carved wood interior. The vampire pressed a fob against the electronic panel, the red light at its center turning green before the elevator began to rise smoothly.

“We own the building,” she explained, as though she could sense the question on the tip of my tongue. “Or maybe Garrett does… I guess?”

I made a face at the reminder of their issue with Cherie’s will, which was more an issue with her surviving relative.

“So the deed to the club is…” I said slowly, a larger problem than losing their livelihood taking shape.

“Also the deed to our home, yes,” Ren replied, the irritation clear in her tone. “It’s a shit show, I know.”

The numbers over the elevator door ascended, marking our passage from floor to floor until we reached the top. The door slid open smoothly, revealing not a hallway as I expected, but an elegantly decorated entryway that fed into the open-concept living space. As we made our way inside, the living room and kitchen came into view, the dining room not far off, breaking into a short hallway. Just off the entry, on the other side, was a set of stairs, leading up to what I guessed was a second story.

It was, undoubtedly, massive.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, not sure where to look first.

The furnishings and fittings were modern, with white glossy cabinets offset with grey stone counters threaded with white to match. Brushed steel appliances with pops of buttery yellows and blues made it feel like the set of a cooking show, especially when paired with the rainbow colour-coded collection of cookbooks lying on top of the cabinets. Five blush pink and gold upholstered stools lined the kitchen bar, beautiful glitter-flecked acrylic placemats marking each seat.

The living room was spacious but still cozy, the coffee table littered with embroidery supplies, snacks, and a half-full teacup as a movie I’d seen half a dozen times played on the ostentatiously large flat-screen television, framed to look like a moving painting. It bordered on cluttered with the many plants, books, and decorations that filled the large built-in shelves spanning the far wall, dotted with lamps, brass animals, and flameless candles between beautifully covered special editions. But it was done so tastefully that it managed to toe the line happily between too much and just enough, landing on a look that was decidedly curated. Lived in.

Ren led me deeper inside, onto plush area rugs, as she pointed out the major areas as though you couldn’t fit all ofKaylee’s apartment into the living room of this veritable palace alone.

“Kitchen, dining, living room. That through there is my darkroom.”

“You have your own darkroom?” I asked, interest piqued, as I headed for the hallway she’d gestured to.”I sort of thought those were banished to the backs of failing department stores.”

Ren grinned, setting my suitcase aside to lead me into the first door on the left. She flicked on the light, and red bulbs glowed to life smoothly to illuminate a space about the size of a double walk-in closet. On either side of the room were metal shelves filled with paper, chemicals, cameras, and film canisters. A small, standing freezer in the corner hummed quietly as Ren gestured to the photographs hanging to dry from crisscrossing strings overhead.

“For my cameras,” she explained, “I’ve always been fascinated by film. Capturing a moment, you know? All the emotion of life in a still image.”

I studied the photographs, beautiful and alluring black-and-white stills of the girls from the club mid-performance, but my attention was captivated by something a little more personal—a collection of five photos of Juniper splayed on her back, a hand between her thick thighs as she pleasured herself.

My face flamed, and Ren inhaled sharply as the scent of my blood permeated the space. I averted my eyes, feeling a bit like I’d seen something I wasn’t supposed to.

But I desperately want to see more of it.

“This has… deep serial killer vibes,” I said, trying to hide my embarrassment.

She laughed. “I promise the freezer isn’t for body parts. It's for film.”

“Film? Why?” I asked, opening the door curiously to find opaque canisters. She opened one to show me the rolls of film inside.

“Film is perishable, and since I like to use vintage canisters that are out of production, I have to take good care of it to try and extend its lifespan.” She closed the door to the freezer with her hand over mine, leaning in to brush her lips over my shoulder. “You know, you should let me take a few of you…”

My mind immediately went to the portraits of Juniper, her plush body lounging on the sheets. The idea of having Ren take pictures of me in a similar circumstance was nothing short of thrilling.

“I’ll think about it,” I purred, turning to wrap my arms around her neck for a kiss charged by my fantasies. “Clothes on or?—?”

“Hey!” Juniper called irritably, shattering our bubble of privacy and making heat rise to the back of my neck again. “Who’s tacky suitcase?!”

“June,” Ren scolded, sticking her head into the hall. “I’ll get it in a second. I was just showing Vi around. She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

Juniper squeaked out a choked, embarrassed noise that made my ears perk.

“V-Vi?” she hissed. “She’s here, right now?”

“In the flesh—” I started, following Ren out of the room as she flicked off the light, closing the door behind me.

The redheaded vampire looked at me wide-eyed with the distinct air of someone who’d been caught. A bit of an overcorrection for hating my suitcase, or at least that’s what I thought until my gaze trailed down her plump frame, my lips parting as I recognised the T-shirt she was wearing.

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