Quickly pulling away with his tongue, and desperately swallowing to try to cleanse away the taste of poisoned blood, he found his whole body throbbing in pain. Desire lanced through him and the precious little blood inside him sang. Growling, he got to his feet and flexed his shaking fingers. This was going to be a problem.
Closing his eyes, he counted to ten and planned his next moves. They would be important. Now that he’d taken her blood, he knew whom the vampire was he had to kill, but that was the easy part. It was all the other little details, which would prove nearly impossible. A waterfall of thoughts flooded his head, and he tried hard to order them into their correct place. After having been alive for several hundred years, his brain was quite an impressive filing cabinet but it had been out of action quite a bit recently, so he needed to be careful.
First, he had to feed. He would be of no use to her hungry. Then, he’d have to move her. They couldn’t afford to stay in one place longer than a day or two without risk of discovery. The vampire would be able to see everything that she did—that they did—through her eyes. Whilst his bite would now make those images a little cloudier, it wouldn’t stop them and that was going to be their biggest problem.
Less than an hour later, he was outside Club Caress. The white reverse interlocking Cs gleamed brightly in the night sky and there was a large queue of humans already lined up upon the red carpet waiting anxiously for entry into one of the most popular nightclubs around. Of course, there was a reason for that. The men inside were drop-dead gorgeous, the music was played by vampires who had practised their talent over hundreds of years, and the flirting was clever and very skilled. More than half the people that had lined up—eighty per cent of which were girls—stood little chance of getting in, but it didn’t deter them in the slightest. Pheromones filled the air, and the stench of them was almost overpowering to his keen senses, but this was what he had come for—to find a nubile young thing to charm, disarm and preferably not alarm as he went about feeding. He usually worked his way through two or three of them in an evening, and that would see him sated for several days.
Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait in line. Paranormal beings got automatic right-of-way via a special entry card, and he was just such a being. Catching a couple of wolf-whistles as he walked past, he lightly spanked one of the girls who had issued the cheeky noise. There was the sound of shocked indignation followed by an Oh my God when he turned his head to wink at her. Then she began smiling her head off and giggling. It was amazing what he could get away with because of his cute butt and pretty face. Deciding to take advantage of his preternatural gifts, he plucked her from the line and hoisted her into his arms. There was an outraged scream but no kicking or biting followed, so he figured he was on to a sure thing.
Greeting both of the bouncers, who also happened to be vampires, by name and copping another feel of the girl’s ass, he sauntered up to the bar. Assellio was yet again on duty, but then twelve-hour shifts weren’t exactly strenuous for a vamp. Plonking the girl on a bar stool, he turned his attention to the bartender.
“What’ll it be tonight, Mercer? The usual?”
“No. I’m on assignment from HQ. Just an orange juice for me, but you can mix my delightful friend over there one of your finest Silk Panty Martinis.” There was another giggle.
“Are you okay, Mercer?” Assellio looked him in the eye and frowned as he began mixing up the required ingredients for the human who had the most ridiculous simpering grin upon her face.
“No, I’m not fucking okay, but I’m compartmentalising at the moment and it’s working well. Don’t worry…my miserable bastard persona will be back before you know it.” Truth be told, his body was still wired from the intense chemistry of earlier, and he needed to let off a little steam. Coupling that with the fact that certain death was probably only a few days away, everything was looking a little rosier than it had been. Assellio didn’t need to know that, though.
Mercer watched as the bartender poured vodka, grenadine, peach schnapps and cranberry juice into a martini glass over a sizeable helping of crushed ice. Then Assellio slid the glass down the chrome bar counter until it landed directly in front of Mercer’s evening meal. Fighting through the parasols and stirrers, she finally managed to take a sip and pronounced the drink as delicious.
“Not half as delicious as me, baby, if you play your cards right…” And to be fair, he was thinking probably even if she played her cards wrong.
As she looked up at him adoringly, he felt her pulse begin to thud in her veins as adrenaline surged through her body. Excellent. He’d let her get the martini down her, and then he’d take her somewhere a little more private. There was also the possibility that he could pull in a friend and do two at the same time. He didn’t want to hang around any longer than necessary tonight. What-was-her-name back at his flat might wake up soon, and he didn’t want her snooping around or running off.
Watching his tasty morsel drain the martini glass, he held his hand out to her and gave her a feral smile. “Come with me, darling,” he whispered, although the words were unnecessary. His will was upon her and she would do anything he told her without hesitation.
“Where are we going?” she asked, but she didn’t really care as her hand was already reaching for his.
“We’re going to do a bit of bump and grind, darling, so you’d better be ready to hang on for the ride.” He walked her quickly through the dark halls with their thick crimson drapery and twinkling white LED lights that were supposed to give the effect of stars in the night sky. It didn’t do much for him but apparently, it worked well for humans because quite a few couples were already cocooned in the alcoves, and there were plenty of soft groans and whispers to be heard as they sped past.
“Do you want to dance?” Although he’d been striding ahead leading the way, he shifted his gaze to over his shoulder to observe the pretty little thing behind him.
She blinked a couple of times, and then smiled softly. “Do you?”
He grinned at her in return. “Yes.”
He was lying, of course. The last thing he felt like doing was dancing, but he needed to find her a friend so he could do the two-for-the-price-of-one thing and get the hell out of here. Time was of the essence.
“Then let’s dance,” she whispered, but he hadn’t waited for the affirmative as he tugged her along the winding corridor of testosterone towards the sound of music. Faint at first, it soon increased in volume until a roaring, thumping beat filled the air. That in itself was impressive because they had to go through a twin set of double doors before they landed themselves in the middle of the action. That was when the fun really began.
Once the bright strobe lights were upon them, he spun her round so she fell flat against him. Instantly taking up the beat, he fell into a basic salsa step. Pulling her in close, he snaked his arms around her. She had no choice but to follow his lead. He had to give the girl some credit though, because she soon got the hang of things. Allowing himself to be lost in happier times, he let the music capture him. His hips rocked and gyrated, his feet slipping forward and back, exactly where they were supposed to be, while his hands were all over her. It would be what she was expecting, and he didn’t want to disappoint. Her body and her anticipation needed to be revved up a little, so the bite wouldn’t come as such a shock.
He’d barely looked at her so far but he decided now was as good a time as any to examine his dinner, which was all that humans were to him, unless he was told otherwise. This one was pretty. She had thick dark hair, which hung down her shoulders in ribbons of curls, and a pert snub nose. Her cheeks held a bright flush, mostly from his presence, and there was a spattering of freckles across her pale face. She’d painted her lips a scarlet red and the shiny gloss was just begging him to suck it off, although he had little interest in her lips. Losing himself to the music, and trying hard to think of nothing more than the animalistic urge of feeding, he let himself flow with the beat. The heavy thud of the base was cathar
tic and it drummed inside his head, quietening everything else around him. Even though the girl in front of him had little dance training, she fell into step beside him beautifully. It was amazing what those warm amber eyes of his could do when put to the test. Spinning her around in circles, easily lifting her through the air and using every inch of the dance floor available, he turned her into a hot little mess. Her body gravitated towards his at every opportunity as she ground herself against him.
“Kiss me,” she whimpered, tilting her head up towards his and parting her lips. Her five foot six frame was no match for his though. He towered above her. Admiring the glistening wet lips before him, which she’d artfully licked not seconds before he decided that they’d probably completed the foreplay part. It was time to get down to business.
“Your wish is my command, darling.”
Leaning down with exaggerated slowness whilst flashing a cocky grin, his lips finally connected with the base of her collarbone. His tongue traced a meandering path upwards towards the pulse that was happily ticking away like a metronome in her neck. It thundered in his ears as the sound of her breathing washed over him in crashing waves. He loved the build up to a bite…the glorious anticipation and then the first mouthful of sweet rich oxygenated blood. He felt cheated by the earlier bite he’d experienced, and he intended to make up for his misfortune. Wasting no more time, he sank his fangs into her neck, while his eyes sought yet another willing victim.
Whilst he was immersed deep in the brunette, he caught the attention of a raven-haired beauty who had been eyeing him up for most of their short spell on the floor. Pinning her with his eyes, he gave her a sultry wink and she smiled at him. Humans were such foolish creatures. Deepening the bite, he fed then watched as the girl in his arms orgasmed. Immediately, he wiped her memory giving her a little push that would send her back to the bar. She’d be a little unsteady for a few minutes but Assellio and the others would take care of her, not that he gave a damn. The beast was back.
Beckoning his new conquest forward, he realised he couldn’t even be bothered to swing her around for a bit. Putting both hands on her ass, he pressed her up close. One quick look in her eyes was enough. She was down for what he wanted and even if she hadn’t been, it wouldn’t have taken long to convince her. He had a few advantages to most of his peers. It came with old age. He could make women fall at his feet with little more than a glance, and tonight he was going to use that skill to his full advantage. Once upon a time, he might have had morals, but that was at least a few hundred years ago.
Sliding his hands up her waist, he cupped both of her breasts, rubbed his fingertips lightly over the already pointed nipples and swooped in for dessert. He sucked hard at her neck. She gave a delightful moan. Unfortunately, his inner radar chose that moment to sense danger and he felt a prickling sensation upon his back. Whilst it wasn’t a tried and tested method of spotting threats, it was never a good sign. He needed to hurry. Sucking harder, he drew powerful jets of fresh blood into his body and swallowed them down quickly. He felt her body tremble violently under his hands and he realized he was drinking too deeply. Something had him spooked, and he needed to pull back or he risked killing her.
Dragging his head up from her neck, his tongue laving gently at the twin red pinpricks that were already fading back into her skin, he sucked in a painful breath and twisted his head around.
“You are the loveliest creature,” said a voice in his ear but he was barely listening. His eyes scanned the room from top to bottom trying to work out from where the source of his discomfort was coming. Someone in this room shouldn’t be here. He was sure of it.
Not turning around, he laughed and said, “If only you knew, darling. I’m the meanest thing there is around these parts.”
She tried to tell him otherwise whilst whispering sweet nothings in his ear but as sharp as his sense of hearing was, he heard nothing. His eyes had zeroed in on a problem. A big fucking problem, and they were heading straight for him—four .38 Smith and Weston special bullets. Two seconds later, the room erupted in high-pitched screams.
Bang
Two seconds was a long time for a vampire. Putting his hand on the girl’s head in front of him, he crushed her to the floor with enough force to send her sprawling. He managed to ascertain there were two shooters and each was firing bullets from both the left and right of him. Neatly stepping forwards, he avoided three out of the four shots aimed at him.
Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough time or space to get out of the way of the last one and it ripped through the top of his left thigh with enough impact to send him stumbling backwards. The pain focused him instantly.
Being shot with a bullet was like having someone slam all the air out of his body before replacing it with hydrochloric acid. The burn started at the site of the puncture wound, and then slowly radiated outwards until the pain was all consuming. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to stand around and feel sorry for himself because two blood slaves were already aiming their next shots, and he was damned if he was going to wait around until they turned his body into a tea strainer. As the sea of bodies in front of him began to drop to the floor in panic, he had no option but to sprint over them but due to the impressive burst of speed he now employed, he doubted anyone would feel too much.
More bullets continued to whizz past his body, but the goons had lost their chance. Trying to hit a vampire that could run at speeds of up to ninety miles an hour was like trying to find a snowflake in a snowstorm. It was virtually impossible. He had another advantage over the blood slaves too. He knew the schematics of this club, inside and out, and it wouldn’t matter how many people they had watching the main doors, they’d never catch him. There were an impressive sixteen exits leading out of Club Caress, and he was going to use one of the most obscure.
In less than a second he had crossed the entire dance floor and left the sweaty heaving bodies that reeked of alcohol fumes far behind. Swinging through double doors and several sets of emergency exits, he felt a warm trickle of blood begin to slip down his leg. There was very little he could do about it. Anyway, whilst they could follow his trail, they wouldn’t be fast enough to capture him. Had they managed to get two or three shots into him, they might have stood a chance but he could cope with a single shot. It wasn’t particularly pleasant, and it hurt like hell but he’d manage to haul himself back home some way or another.
Reaching the end of the corridor, he headed down a long flight of stairs lit by nothing more than a thin strip of flickering UV lighting. Slamming through the door to the cellars, dark musty air filled his nostrils and then the smell of cheap wine assailed him. Thankfully, it didn’t get a chance to become overpowering. In a single leap, he managed to grab on to the upper windowpane of the far wall and hauling his body painfully upwards, he slid the aged oak frame sideways, wincing at the loud screech as he did so. Slipping backwards for a second on a palm slick with sweat, he cursed his sloppiness for the sounds of thundering footsteps were fast approaching behind him. The mob must have had back up, for there were at least six pairs of feet banging through his head.
Swearing again, he focused himself. He wiped his damp palm on his sweater and clawed his way out of the small opening, his fingers burrowing into the soft dark earth that would lead him to the waste disposal bay. As he pulled his legs through, tears of agony formed in his eyes, but he didn’t give them a chance to escape. The cellar door had swung open behind him and he was all too aware that his escape had been a narrow one. Narrow or not though, there was no chance they could catch him now. Swiftly getting to his feet, he ran as fast as his injured leg could carry him and wouldn’t stop until he’d reached the sanctity of his abode.
Powering along, he wondered if the minions had managed to infiltrate his home but quickly dismissed the idea. He was confident that if they had, they wouldn’t have been waiting to incapacitate him at the club. It was bad news all around though. Now that they had pinpointed his general whereabouts, an army would b
e forming and they’d be searching the area like termites, burrowing into every hole and climbing over every mountain until they found what they were looking for. It was time to get the hell out, and fast.
When he reached the entry pad to his apartment block, he hunched over it and gave himself a couple of seconds to heave in a few all-important breaths. Thank God, he’d just fed or else he’d never have made it. Looking down in disgust, he found the left pant leg of his jeans soaked in blood. Great. They were his favourite pair too. They’d be none too sexy with a great big burn hole in them though. Slamming his fist into the brick wall above him, he took a moment to rue answering the blasted phone call that had put him in this predicament, but it was too late for regrets. With any luck, his new lady friend would get him killed sooner rather than later. Punching in his five-digit code, he took the lift down to his basement flat and pulled his key-card from his pocket. Swiping it briskly, he heard the lock click open, but then he paused. Opening the door a fraction and listening attentively, his ears reassured him that all was well. Gentle snoring sounds carried down from upstairs and apart from the odd drip from a leaky faucet and the soft hum of the halogen entry light there was little cause for concern.
Heading straight for the first-aid kit, which he stored in the kitchen, he located a pair of tweezers, some sterile swabs, a strip of butterfly sutures, and a roll of gauze dressing. Gingerly pulling down his jeans, he let out a hiss as the fabric dragged at his wound but it only hindered his progress by a second or two. Thankfully, the entry site had stopped oozing blood, but he suspected that was all about to change as soon as he dug the bullet out.
The annoying thing was that he had a vial of morphine stashed away in his cupboard but if they were about to make a big getaway, there was no way he could use it and remain lucid. Oh well, he’d endured worse shit than this.
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