Page 24 of Kept 3
I could imagine him smirking as he said this, but once again the fact that we are both entangled with girls who know one another sends the hair at the back of my neck crawling – something doesn’t ring true. Nevertheless, this lead is more than what my security force could find.
“Gerald,” I sighed, “your little Kept is going to be very annoyed with you when she finds out you helped have her best friend murdered.”
“I’ll deal with my Kept. You deal with the cook.”
“Bali it is,” I groaned.
I hung up and phoned my pilot, directing him to prepare immediately for a departure to Indonesia, then phoned the restaurant and cancelled my reservation. And here I sit now, onboard my jet, filling in this foolish journal, waiting to land in tropical Bali.
I pause reading and frown. Yes, it is strange that Gerald should be in contact with Margarita on Tinder, choose her as his Kept, and that I should find that journal. Coincidence? If so, Nicholas is right. It is a very odd one.
New Entry
I met her tonight.
Coincidence is starting to sound like my middle name, and I almost laughed out loud as I entered my favourite Parisian restaurant, after several fruitless weeks of searching Bali, only to find her assigned to my table.
She smells divine.
I could have killed her then and there, of course, lured her outside on some pretext, or waited until she left work and pounced upon her. But there is something about her, her expressions, her shy smile, her intelligent eyes, something that stalls my vicious tendencies. But she must die. She knows too much, she knows of vampires, of Ereston, of me.
I have booked again for tomorrow night. I shall allow her to serve me one more time.
New Entry
She is so sure of herself,for one so young.
Tomorrow night, I will do it tomorrow night.
New Entry
She has a wry and irreverent sense of humour which I find attractive and refreshing. I almost choked on my wine tonight over something she said.
Tomorrow night, I am absolute in this.
New Entry
Her background is miserable. Losing her parents at such a young age has made her strong, resilient - and yet there was something so endearing about her quiet acknowledgement of her past difficulties.
One more night won’t make a difference here or there.
New Entry
I am so aware of her body, her slight movements, her breathing, her heartbeat, her smell….
The fact that she stands behind me, that I cannot see her bright eyes, her smirk, all this heightens my senses, making me hyperaware of every little nuance in her voice.
She speaks with intelligence, she is well-read, something I had not anticipated, and she takes such joy in a minutia of tiny things that I have all but forgotten.
I look forward to each night, as I have not for so many centuries.
New Entry
Gerald phoned tonight and asked why I was still in Europe, and not in the US dispensing with the hunter. And I had to confess; I have yet to kill Josephine.
To say he was angry was an understatement. And in truth, I am angry with myself.
I have not written properly in my journal for several weeks; my nights have been spent doing only one thing, admiring Josephine. And looking back now on my entries, I see I am beginning to sound like an obsessed fool. I don’t want to share that knowledge with anyone.
