Snow Covered Moon

by L M Adams

  I look down in my lap where the Madame’s collar is. “Hey Tabari, can you do a quick spell for me?”

  “Sure, what do you have in mind?” he asks. I grin.

  After the spell is done, Jack holds my coat for me. I slip it on. I turn and look at everyone. We do make a striking bunch of people.

  “Thank you, all of you, from the bottom of my heart.” I let my eyes fall on each of my merry boy band of men.

  Tabari looks wonderful in a cashmere sweater like Jack’s, except a deep green, bringing out the wolf in his eyes and dress slacks with soft soled dress shoes. Lucien looks uncomfortable in his black dress shirt and slacks and dress shoes; probably because we are making him leave the sword home and not so much because of the clothes. My Jack, with my collar, and his leather pants, sweater, and Italian leather dress shoes; he moves in a quiet strength and confidence I haven’t seen in him before. The collar was the right thing to do, it made him feel like he belongs.

  I open the door and we spill out into the setting sun. Tabari hadn’t bothered with the glamour spell. The BMW sits in front of the house. We walk down the small concrete pathway and get into the crossover. Tabari lets Jack drive since he knows where he’s going. I get into the back with Lucien. I look out into the street; the neighborhood is quiet and subdued. It’s that in between time.

  People have been home from work for a few hours already. The ones that walk the night aren’t out and about yet. I guess that makes us in the middle.

  We walk the eventide.

  I nod my head. The quiet push of the Moon Goddess displacing the power of the Sun King, I feel the mixed power crawl on my skin as if I could lap it up with my tongue. This is entirely new, I don’t say a word about it to anyone.

  We pull up to The Secret and get out of the car. Jack hands the keys to one of the vampire goons stationed at the door. Tabari groans a little in the back of his throat, but doesn’t say anything. That car is his baby. The keys only work for a certain millage. If a person that has a chip coded into the car’s computer isn’t riding, the car will stop via a kill switch. No need to worry about joyrides.

  I walk up the marble stairs and through the solid oak doors that gleam with a high polish.

  Again I keep from looking too closely at the paintings that litter the walls of the hallway. The heels of my kinky succubus boots sink a little into the lush, thick black carpet. Jack follows behind me, then Tabari. Bringing up the rear is Lucien. I double dog dare you to attack him from the back. They’ll be wiping up bloody bits for weeks, sword or no sword. We walk past the door that leads to the private-private area, where the actual whoring takes place, and spill from the hallway into the main club.

  The club is quiet and brightly lit with overhead lights; vampires are rushing about getting ready for tonight’s entertainment. The tables that circle the strip of stage running down the middle of the room have chairs turned over on their tops. The small private booths have their curtains pulled to the side. A female vampire is going to each one and lighting candles within their depths.

  There’s a bartender already behind the bar. I want a shot, or two. Or a bottle. But I turn and walk to the staff only door to the left.

  I open the door; the vampire on the other side nods his head. I don’t nod back. He may think me rude, but in truth I am focused, I have a purpose. I call her to me.

  I am here.

  I need you.

  Rules?

  Do not kill or maim anyone, our focus is the Madame.

  She nods her head.

  No succubus powers until I say.

  She nods her head again.

  She’s in an accepting mood tonight.

  We fed well earlier.

  Yes, we did.

  I let that stored power come forward, flooding my eyes, making them glow. I turn the glamour off hiding my horns, no need to put on airs for anyone. I want to just be myself. Every wicked bit of myself.

  We walk up the two flights of stairs into the Madame’s lair on the top floor. The double doors on the landing that lead to her rooms are thrown open. I step onto the deep red, thick carpet. Her desk sits to the left of me, her ginormous, specialty-sheets-are-needed, fourposter, oak bed sits over to the right, against a wall. Towering windows on either side, blackout curtains pulled closed.

  A small sitting area is on the far wall, with two high backed black leather chairs and a small table in the middle. There’s a six-foot-high armoire next to the sitting area. The top portion of the armoire has doors, currently sitting open I can see the controls to a sound system. I look up towards the ceiling, there are small speakers everywhere. To drown out the screams easier, perhaps?

  Candles are everywhere, almost on every surface, wall sconces lit with more candles. Every single one of them is red and dripping like blood. The room is huge. And standing in the middle is Madame Valentine.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  When a Blood Mistress Submits

  Valentine is resplendent – yup that’s the word: resplendent – in a floor-length, deep red dress that hugs her small body, accentuating the curves she does have. Small dainty straps hold it up on each shoulder. The material is… I don’t know what, but I know it’s expensive and the color blends perfectly with the red carpet. I don’t know what her heels look like but I know she has a pair on. Her head comes to my chin tonight, although, my own pair of heels has me a bit over six foot easily. I’m taller than Jack and Tabari tonight, not Lucien though.

  Her hair is piled high on her head in an elaborate coif. Yeah coif, that’s the right word for it. It’s gorgeous. Her makeup is flawless; dark smoky eyes with hints of red set back in a small Asian face. The red lipstick that stands out against the paleness of her skin makes me want to kiss her to taste them. Will I taste blood or cherry or strawberry? Yes, I want her; very badly I want her. Huge diamonds dangle from both ears, twinkling in the candlelight. Yet again I’m thankful for Jack and his meddlesome personal stylist ways. I’d feel like a mouse if I’d showed up here with my ass kicking boots and a smart-ass T-shirt.

  Kneeling beside the Madame is Christy, Johnson’s girlfriend; ex-girlfriend, rather. Naked, her gorgeous blonde curly hair falls around her naked body. She has on a diamond collar. I feel a pang of misgiving for the cheap collar I’d gotten Jack. But I squash it quickly. “It could be a bit of string,” he’d said. The meaning to him, that’s what is important, it is important to me as well. His collar is one of pride. He’d walked in here with his head held high and back straight. Christy looks defeated. She’s folded in on herself.

  Finding the beautiful people aren’t so beautiful after all?

  I still feel no pity for her. I realize I probably should, again I’m not displaying the proper human emotion, but then, I’m not really human.

  I can smell the slightest hint of vampire essence in the air, I want to roll my naked skin in blood and drown in the scent of vampire. Jack shifts, just so, behind me. I’m sure no one notices.

  The tiniest trickle of cool power laps at the edges of my mind. I nod my head, signaling Jack I’m ok. Madame must have taken it as my greeting.

  “Go welcome Jack, Christy. It’s been so long since he’s had you,” the Madame says with a low voice.

  I feel Jack tense against me. He doesn’t want her touching him. I watch as Christy crawls over on her hands and knees. When she reaches me, she rises to her knees and tries to reach around me to Jack and up to his crotch; something very angry and very primitive rushes up inside me. I push him harshly back towards the guys and turn back to Christy. The fear in her beautiful huge blue eyes is delicious to see. The widening of her pupils, the quickening of her pulse, it all calls to me.

  I look down at Christy and try to remember why I ever denied myself the pleasures of the human world.

  For so long we’ve been without.

  I nod my head slowly in agreement. What or who was I ever trying to save?

  I reach down grabbing her glorious hair at the nape, yanking her to her feet with
it; she yells but doesn’t reach up her hand to ward me off. The bitch has been trained well.

  Power flows through my veins like electricity flowing through copper, my nerve endings are on fire with the pleasure of it.

  For so long we’ve done without.

  I drag her back to the Madame and shove her back down to the floor. In front of me, she whimpers.

  “No one touches what is mine without my permission.” My voice is a lady-like growl, soft and gentle but just as dangerous.

  Valentine’s eyes twinkle with pleasure.

  Fucking vampires and their games, I turn on my heel. Jack looks relived. Lucien’s face is stone and impassive. His massive self-control is in full effect. Tabari looks much the same. I walk back over to them, unbuttoning my coat as I walk. I turn when I get to Jack. He sets down the leather bag and reaches up, taking my coat off.

  I see Valentine’s eyes widen in appreciation; her nose flares a little. I have my own little game to play. Christy is easy prey, I need to hunt, I want to hunt. My eyes snap to Christy, kneeling entirely too close to my prey, I growl towards her. She crawls away a little and settles back on her knees, looking down at the floor. Good bitch.

  I lick my lips slowly, wetting them, tasting the lip gloss Jack had so lovingly dabbed on; it tastes of strawberries.

  “I am the new Grigori.” I walk back towards Valentine switching my hips, letting the succubus out more with each step. The scent of me fills the air, mixing with the smell of cinnamon and dark chocolate.

  “And you’ve been a very naughty vampire.” I reach up, grabbing her by her glorious coif. Pins tumble out of it onto the floor. I look into her eyes, just the smallest increase in pulse. I lower my mouth to hers, closing my eyes. Her lips are soft and delicious and taste of cherries and blood. I’ve never tasted anything this delicious.

  I slip out my tongue into her warm mouth; my tongue tries to find every bit of the cherry blood sweetness, blood that tastes of Vayrá. I reach my other arm around her.

  “You’re a gutsy bitch of a woman,” my Lucien had told me. Here’s a woman that has desired me for months on end, trying her best to seduce me, but nothing had worked until I needed to make a deal with the witch. I hadn’t lost; I’d chosen to be a good woman.

  My tongue finds her retracted fang; I rub my tongue on its tip. The sting of her fang cutting my tongue makes me moan. She tastes my blood for the first time and grabs hold of me like I am the last person on earth. I’m giving her the one thing her contract gave her no rights to: my blood. Sex only had been our contract.

  I reach a hand down the front of her dress, her breasts are small but taut and shapely; her nipple puckered in desire. I rub over it lightly, she moans into my mouth. I find her other fang with my tongue and cut myself deeply again. At the same time I pinch her nipple, harshly increasing the pressure as she sucks greedily from the cut on my tongue, accepting the pain as long as she receives pleasure as well. I pull from the kiss as my tongue heals, removing my hand as well, my lips a hair’s breath away from her mouth, whispering so low I can barely hear my own voice.

  “If you want more, ask me to hurt your other nipple, Valentine. You have to mean it. I have to believe you want the pain I give, as much as the blood you take.”

  Her eyes are foggy with lust and my power; she greedily is feeding on her own downfall. The power of my succubus is carried within my blood, pulsing through her system.

  “Please hurt me, please hurt me.” Her voice is as soft, pleading, and submissive as I’ve ever heard it. Things low in my body pulsate at the sound.

  I drive my tongue in her mouth, and my hand down her dress again. Lesson one; pain is the only road to pleasure.

  For what feels like hours I feed her trickles of blood and torture her nipples, although, I know only a few moments have passed.

  Valentine is caught in my spell. I may have lost a bit of myself in the process, but it’s well worth the cost. I break the kiss and pull back a few inches.

  “I’m going to do terrible and wonderful things to you; I promise you will love it. You want to drink from me, bite my neck? Beg me now to hurt you, and that shall be your prize for being good. Give in now without argument or barter and I’ll keep it private. Otherwise everyone will watch the whore you will be for me tonight. Because we both know the taste of my blood calls to you like nothing you’ve ever felt before. You want me Valentine… you need me.” My voice is sweet as honey as I threaten her.

  She’s beyond telling me no. She wants me too badly, I know all about desire. She can fuck and drink every man and woman in all the worlds, but she’ll never be satisfied until she has me, at least once. It’s enough to make her throw caution to the wind. Sometimes dominance is soft and gentle, not harsh and unforgiving. Sometimes it seduces. It’s still just as deadly.

  “Send them away, I recognize you as Grigori,” her voice rushes out. I smell a burst of cinnamon and dark chocolate come from her.

  “I do not see you kneeling to make your request for training, slave,” I respond lightly, turning away from her, leaving her stewing in her own desires as my power courses through her veins like a drug. The drop should be coming right about now.

  “Those under my control leave now!” Valentine’s voice rings hard and true. She has no desire to have her people see this, I understand her reasoning. Only the strong lead, if she is to be my little whore, it will be done in private.

  Christy and the two other vampires exit the room quickly and quietly, shutting the door behind them. The men of my merry boy band remain to witness Valentine formally submitting to my will, canceling our previous contract.

  Valentine bends gracefully to one knee. Submissive, but not totally repeating her request for training.

  I nod my head to Tabari and Lucien, signaling that they can go. They are both here only as witnesses and as my guard. That part of the show is over now.

  They both turn and go without complaint. There’s a hush in the room now, no sound will come in, and no sound will escape.

  Whatever bit of control I had leaves me suddenly. I walk to Valentine’s kneeling form.

  “You deserve to be punished. Don’t you?” I grab her chin forcing her back to her feet.

  Before she can answer I grab her dress pulling it down to her waist, ripping it. She stumbles from the force of it. She doesn’t answer me. I walk around to the front of her grabbing her by the neck, choking her, forcing her to her knees again.

  “You deserve to be punished. Don’t you?”

  She collapses. “Yes,” she hisses out.

  I feel the pulse of her heart under my hand, a rush of power runs through me. It feels so good, so sweet. I lick my lips. Her eyes widen, dilating as I let her see the ugliness in me. The thing I fight day in and day out to control. I let her see the hatred I hold for her, for pushing me so far, for being a catalyst in me losing my unwinnable war.

  “Slowly, Jae.” Jack’s voice comes so soft with a push of cool wind.

  Oh goddess, thank you.

  I find a way to nod my head slowly once. I whimper, but I let her throat go, the bruised imprint of my fingers fade while I watch.

  With nothing but force of will, I walk over to Jack, elongating my hunt. He gets the box with her collar out, handing it to me.

  He nods his head, eyes filled with passion and yet control. He loves the show, but he’ll stop me if needed. I’ve been on edge since I yanked Christy up by the hair.

  Control Jae, go slow. I take another deep breath and walk back to Valentine with the box in hand.

  “Two nights a month, you are mine to with as I will. This will stay between us three. I realize you cannot be seen as weak. But during this time, you are not a Blood Mistress, you are just mine.” My voice is strong and instructive.

  “Yes,” She says quietly.

  “When I arrive, you will be naked and kneeling, your hair will be loose. And you will wear this.” I set the box down in front of her.

  She reaches out and opens the box. Her
fingers run over the collar softly.

  “I have not worn a collar in many, many years. The diamonds are spelled?” She looks up at me. I nod my head.

  “They will do you no harm; you have my word as the Grigori. Put it on of your own free will. I need you to be sure that you want this before we go any further. I’d not do anything against your will. But if you put it on, you shall do what I say when I say, or be punished, thoroughly. If you choose not to put on the collar, our contract is canceled. I’ll not serve you, Valentine.”

  She reaches down and lifts it from the box. She puts it around her throat and buckles it, she wants this. She wants to be mine. No thought, no questions, just acceptance.

  “Why is your hair pinned? Why are you clothed?” I ask in a low voice.

  “I didn’t know,” she says up to me in a small voice.

  “That’s an excuse; I have no need for excuses. You thought to have me naked and kneeling. I’m going to spend the night showing you how big of a mistake that was. How many pins are there?” I ask turning and walking back to Jack.

  He hands me the flogger. It’s soft leather, it won’t split her skin but if I swing hard enough, it will raise welts. I turn. She’s shaking the rest of the pins from her hair and gathering them.

  “Music, Jack.”

  He takes my tablet and goes over to the sound system; he flips to one of my playlists. Soft rock comes from the speakers mounted near the ceiling. It comes from everywhere filling the space and my body. I know this playlist it gets harsher, darker more eerie as each song comes and goes. I’d spent a long time programming it. I roll my neck letting the music wash over me. Jack walks back and stands next to the leather bag. I watch as she quietly counts the pins.

  “Twenty-six,” her voice rings out after a while.

  “What’s a fair price for them?” I ask swinging the flogger lightly at my side. Her eyes dart to it.

  “One each.”

  I shake my head no.