As the last notes of the last song of the set floated out across the poorly-ventilated room, Niven put his guitar in its holder and strode purposefully over to me. The hairs on my arms raised as he approached and I felt a warm sensation low in my body.
He moved to within inches of me and whispered, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
I gave him my most elegant raised-eyebrow response.
Well.
When you’ve been alive as long as I have, and you’ve been the one doing all the waiting, that was indeed a refreshing and fascinating statement to hear coming from the obscenely desirable lips of a ridiculously handsome human.
Then he locked those superb blue orbs on me and said, “You’re a vampire.”
A glorious smile took my face hostage and I ran my tongue across my teeth, enjoying the feeling of my canines extending down ever so slightly. I leaned into him and licked his neck.
Could this tasty morsel get anymore exciting?
I just love a mystery.
Chapter 3
As he stood next to me, I felt things I hadn’t experienced in centuries. As if the cells in my body held memories that were being recalled at a level deeper than my consciousness could access. Memories that stretched back to the beginning. To something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Since the two of us were surrounded by a swarm of tranced-out bodies (the vibration I emit is potent enough, but just imagine what it must have felt like to be caught up in the tidal wave caused by two extraordinary quantum fields coming together), Niven silently reached out his hand, grasped mine and pulled me toward the rear of the club and out the back door.
I gleefully went along for the ride. I can’t help it. I love when stuff like this happens.
It was a beautiful spring night and the air was perfumed with that wonderful combination of lilacs and the blossoms of Russian olive trees. The full moon was doing that mystical thing where it’s shrouded in haze and surrounded with wispy, shimmering rings of colors. The kind of moon that foretells magical and momentous events.
Scrumptious Niven led me through a parking area, next to the creek that runs through the center of town, and over to a grassy oasis, replete with benches, pot-smoking lay-abouts, and enthusiastic fornicators.
While it isn’t usually my style to allow one of my “companions” to call the shots or take command, I found myself amused by Niven’s assumption of my acquiescence. In fact, I was getting a going-to-the-prom rush (okay, so I have no idea what that would feel like, really. Play along, won’t you?) from the mere touch of his hand holding mine. Since it felt good, I decided to continue doing it.
He navigated us to a relatively human-free area and audaciously backed me up against the trunk of a huge tree, where he proceeded to run his hands up and down my arms. I have to say that I was really enjoying my temporary role as wolf in sheep’s clothing. I figured there’d be plenty of time later for this delicious dish to find out what kind of cage he’d rattled.
I was wearing one of my favorite pairs of boots – the ones with the stiletto heels – which put me almost eye to eye with Niven as he leaned down slightly to peer into my eyes.
By the way, I’ll bet you’re wondering how I could walk through the grass in stilettos without having the heels penetrate the landscape with every step? You know, creating a trail of pool-cue-tip-sized holes? Not to mention the actual physical challenge of keeping my weight balanced on my toes? Well, there’s a simple answer. Vampires don’t walk. We glide. We dance. We flow. Okay, back to Niven.
Hmm. That was the second time he’d gazed into my eyes without falling into the usual enchanted stupor. I’d been so caught up in his adorableness that I hadn’t noted his lack of response the first time. What’s up with that?
So I asked him.
“How is it that you are able to look into my eyes? Since you obviously know what I am, you probably know about the eye thing.”
“I do know what you are, and I know about the eye thing, but I have no idea why it doesn’t seem to affect me. Maybe that’s just another one of my idiosyncrasies, like being able to entrance people with the sound of my voice. Which, by the way, doesn’t seem to have much effect on you. To borrow from the story of the Ugly Duckling, I’ve always been a swan among ducks. A misfit.”
I wasn’t going to tell him, but his voice did seem to have an oddly soothing effect on me. His speaking voice was as enticing as his singing voice – velvet in my ears. Strangely unsettling.
“My, my. Gorgeous and intelligent. Aren’t you afraid of me?”
He leaned in closer, still rubbing my arms. “Something about you excites me, but I’m not afraid. Should I be?”
“Oh, yes. You should be very afraid.”
His lips curved at the corners, and he moved one of his hands over to my necklace and began tracing it with his finger, especially concentrating on the southern portion. His hair fell forward and flowed across my arm like a silky veil. I indulged myself by grabbing a handful and moving it around in my hand. It was, indeed, as soft as it looked.
I was beside myself with intrigue. Here was a potential victim who not only didn’t fall into a charmed sleep just from locking eyeballs with me, but who didn’t give off the fear vibration I’d gotten so used to – and so aroused by – in the past. And he was acting so boldly. Practically feeling me up out here in the park.
This really was totally unexpected. Usually men respond to me like the flies in a Venus Fly Trap: they are attracted, intoxicated, and then dead. Having one of the flies try to take control of the trap was without precedent.
But damned if I wasn’t even more fascinated now.
“What did you mean that you were waiting for me?” I asked, imagining all the places I’d like to put my mouth.
“This might sound strange, but then again maybe not much sounds strange to a vampire. I haven’t been here long, but ever since I arrived in Boulder I’ve had a sense of anticipation. As if just around the next corner there would be . . . something. Someone. Then the dreams began.”
“Dreams?”
“Yes.” He played with a lock of my hair. “One recurring dream in particular where I’m making love to a beautiful woman with long, black hair and purple eyes. In the middle of our passion she smiles up at me, shows me her fangs and bites my neck. For some reason, I’m not surprised or frightened by that. It hurts, but it also feels familiar – desired. I hear myself making moaning sounds and suddenly there is a man standing next to the bed who yells, ‘Zara! Stop!’ We both stare at the intruder, a tall man with very long, dark hair and vivid green eyes, and my bedmate screams ‘Jeran!’ and I wake up.”
I gave him wide eyes. “Did you say Jeran? Are you sure?”
“Yes.” He cocked his head. “It’s always the same. Why? Does that name have meaning for you?”
What’s going on here? How could this adorable stranger dream of me and know the name of the one who made me? I haven’t allowed myself to think about Jeran for hundreds of years. I definitely needed to sort this out.
Faster than he could see, I switched our positions and pinned him against the trunk of the tree. He expressed surprise and interest, but I didn’t sense any fear. Yet.
I stepped back into my tough cookie persona, allowing my fangs to peek out just enough to say hello.
“It does, indeed, have meaning for me. In fact, it holds so much meaning that I insist you tell me all about it again. At my house. Now.”
He tensed, and studied my fangs for a moment in the light from the overhead street lamp. Then he shook his head.
“No. I’m working. You’ll have to wait until I’m finished.”
Damn. I was torn. Part of me appreciated his courage and wanted to tell him how long it had been since I’d found an interesting human. Another part wanted to laugh out loud at the foolish mortal who dared to disobey me. But the biggest part was ready to teach him a lesson in obedience, and that menu selection was clearly telegraphed to him through both my body language and my
hostile vibration.
He visibly stiffened.
I reviewed the options in my head, gave strong consideration to being a badass, but instead chose what was behind curtain #4. I smiled a Mona Lisa smile, took a step away from him, and said, “Go back to work now. We’ll meet again.”
He looked relieved, confused, and disappointed. Utilizing my powerful mind-scanning ability, it was easy for me to discern that he had been afraid I was going to stomp him like a bug and was glad that I hadn’t, while at the same time, he’d gathered his chutzpah in readiness for whatever challenge I would offer, and it hadn’t been called upon.
“Will you wait for me in the bar until I’m finished?” he asked.
I didn’t understand why he wasn’t afraid of me. I could easily melt humans down the wall with the vibration I’d just given off a few minutes ago. Such a curiosity.
“No.” I made a motion like swatting away a fly. “Not tonight. I’ve got a lot to think about.”
What I didn’t say to him was that I suddenly felt the need for a good suck and fuck, and I was going to go round up some willing participants.
“Can I kiss you before you go?”
Well, how was I supposed to turn that down? But the question was, should I let him know how close he was to being thrown down on the ground and ravaged?
Should I control myself or should I indulge myself? Always such burning questions.
But something about Niven’s unique qualities held my primitive hungers at bay and I moved over to him, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him deeply and well.
He gave as good as he got, and just as I started to wonder if I was losing my touch, I felt his knees go soft and I caught him before he fell. After all, one must be adequately prepared to experience me. Maybe he couldn’t be entranced by my eyes, but no one had ever been able to withstand the lust vibe I can generate when I put my lips and mind to it. And there was the matter of the raging hard-on that was bestowed upon every kiss recipient.
Niven snapped out of his trance, discovered his impressive erection, and watched me vanish right before his eyes within seconds of each other.
I willed myself to a dance club in Denver where I could always count on finding a stable of volunteers for whatever activity I might desire. Smiling, I turned up my aura to the “come and get it” level, sashayed over to the bar, and watched the prospects approach from all directions.
Since I’d recently wearied of trying to figure out disposal options for the bodies of all the Unfortunately Brain Sucked, I decided to select my entertainments two at a time: One for sex and one for blood. Yes, as you might imagine, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying. And keeping control of myself has always been one of my greatest challenges. But since they were able to walk away under their own steam, it certainly made my life simpler.
I was soon surrounded by a small crowd of handsome, 20-something males. I was about to scoop up a couple of them and relocate to some place more private, when I looked over the shoulder of one of the hot prospects to see someone who couldn’t possibly be there.
“Jeran?”
My gorgeous maker flashed me a breathtaking smile and vanished.
What the hell was going on?
I gave serious eyeball juju to my conquests for the evening. Unlike Niven, who hadn’t been affected by my cosmo-vampiric gaze, these sweet, young fellows tranced out immediately, and would remain frozen in place until I returned to fetch them for the impending festivities.
I circled around the club, seeking that luscious immortal face in the unruly crowd. I finally stood in the center of the room, shrouded myself in invisibility glamour, and cast out my psychic hook to reel in any undead fish in the pond. There was no response.
I finally gave up, went back over to collect my frozen entrees, and swooped them out into the night.
***
I have to admit I was a bit distracted, but I didn’t let that keep me from enjoying my take-out order for the evening. I thought the three of us back to my lair in Boulder, and we proceeded to tango the night away – so to speak. After the buffet had been sufficiently picked over, I scanned their minds, uncovered their places of residence, and thought them safely home, snug in their beds. Each would awaken with a lovely, but clouded, memory. I’m just getting so soft-hearted. Don’t tell anyone.
Since there was still time before the dawn, I did a little nude moon bathing out on my upper deck and pondered the apparition I’d seen in the dance club.
Jeran and I hadn’t parted on the warmest terms and hearing through the nightwalker grapevine that he’d chosen to die had really pissed me off.
Okay. I know that I was the one who left him, the one who ended our “relationship,” for lack of a better word. But I always thought we’d have the chance to heal some of the gaping wounds we’d inflicted on each other’s psyches. And on each other’s hearts.
Would it surprise you to know that after centuries of acquiring knowledge, most vampires use all that wisdom to devise ever-more ingenious ways of torturing each other?
Well, really. What would you do to entertain yourself for eternity?
It had been so long since I’d been human, since I had any human emotions, that I was unprepared for being suddenly swamped with memories of loving Jeran. Remembering the insane feelings of lust and obsession that caused me to be vulnerable to his desire to bring me over. His relentless need to have me join him in his nocturnal world.
Even after I begged him not to.
Feelings I hadn’t experienced for centuries washed over me and I felt a tear slide down my cheek. The foreign sensation of the unfamiliar liquid moving down my face intrigued and baffled me. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d cried. It had been, literally, centuries. Quite frankly, I didn’t care for it much. It was bound to open up a coffin of worms that I’d long ago rejected. I scooped the tear onto my index finger and tasted it.
Damn Jeran.
Chapter 4
I don’t sleep in a casket. Yes, of course, I have several of them. I even collect them. They do appeal to the dark side of all of us. As a matter of fact, I have an extravagant specimen that temporarily housed the remains of a very well-known 20th century entertainer, before he was evicted so that I could add it to my collection. Don’t even ask, because I won’t tell you who it is, but I doubt if he’s lonesome tonight. Anyway, as long as I’m out of the sunlight, I require no additional containment.
Instead, I spend my dead-to-the-world hours stretched out on a luxurious Vampire Queen-size bed. Yes, there really is such a thing. The company that makes them is one of my entrepreneurial endeavors. Ever since the advent of the Internet, I’ve become a billionaire several more times over through selling my various lines of merchandise online. Or, I should say, my “great-granddaughter” has.
The evening after the dreadful and annoying crying episode up on my moon deck, I woke in my glorious gold and silver (yes, real gold and silver) underground sleeping chamber to find that I had company.
I thought at first that I’d left the music system playing all day. Sometimes I get sucked under (there is no negotiating with the sun) before I batten down the domestic hatches for the duration, and I arise to find the visual media center blaring or the audio receiver spewing a political talk show. Can you believe those things still exist? But whatever the source, the sound of this music was enchanting and beautiful.
I sat up, still nude, and discovered Niven. He was sitting in a chair at the foot of my bed, strumming an acoustic guitar and singing. Waves of pleasure cascaded over my body with every strum of the strings. His voice felt like a spectral hand exploring undiscovered erogenous territory.
He looked up from his guitar and gave a boyish smile, which made his beautiful face even more appealing.
Several thoughts ran through my mind, all of which fell into the category of “what the fuck?” It was impossible that he had found my secret retreat. No human had ever unearthed my daytime resting place. Not only was it difficult to find in the physi
cal world, but it was made invisible through powerful vampire glamour. No. I must be hallucinating. First crying, now this. I’d heard tales of vampires who finally lost their minds after so many millennia. That had to be it. It was finally my turn to be one of the Unintentionally Brain Sucked.
As my bodacious breasts and I sat up, Niven ceased playing and singing. His mouth slowly relaxed until it rested in full sag – drool imminent – and he stared at my amazing mammary endowments.
“What are you doing here? How did you find me?” My tone was less than friendly. At that point I still wasn’t sure if he was really sitting there, if I was yelling at a thoughtform, or if I was ranting inside my own demented brain.
He put the guitar down on the floor, got up, walked over to the bed, and sat down on the edge next to me. His long hair fell in a dark veil across his “Born Again Druid” T-shirt and he wore an ornate medallion, which was vaguely familiar, on a silver chain around his neck. He smelled wonderful. I detected several different aromas, each more tantalizing than the previous. A subtle floral fragrance emanated from his shiny, silky hair, and he must have used an herbal soap in his shower. Floating on top of those was an essential-oil-type olfactory treat. Something musky and sensual. I almost drooled myself.
“I don’t know exactly how I got here.” He shook his gorgeous head. “I woke up this morning in the middle of the dream again. Only this time the man you called Jeran spoke to me and said, ‘Come.’ That’s the last thing I remember until I found myself standing in front of this house. I have no idea how I managed to end up in your room, watching you sleep. Or watching you be dead, whatever.”
He seemed fascinated with my boobs and kept moving his eyes back and forth between my face and my chest. I decided to put him out of his misery, while at the same time verifying that he was actually there. I picked up his hand and placed it on the nearest tit. He made a gurgling noise, raised his eyebrows and softly pinched my nipple, a look of rapture on his face.
Vampires! A Bundle of Bloodsuckers Page 4