by Tiana Laveen
She sniffed the air.
He smells fine…
Over the decades, she’d gotten better at picking out prime prey, the sweetest, flesh-covered fruit. This one had to be in his mid-thirties, well-groomed, and exhausted from a hard day’s work. She ventured closer to the car, looked both ways, then tapped on the glass of the driver’s side window, startling the man.
“I’m sorry, baby,” she spoke in the old Southern accent she’d lost decades ago, laying on the charm. It seemed to make her more endearing to others, and men especially trusted her when she spoke with a twang. “Didn’t mean to wake you, honey. I’m new in town. Do you have a cigarette?”
She let her robe fall to her shoulders, exposing her hair and collarbones. Their eyes locked and he began to fall deep into her darkness.
He let his window down. “Uh…sorry. I don’t smoke.” His eyes narrowed on her breasts.
“Oh, all right. I guess I’ll need to wait it out. In the meantime, you wanna fuck?” She tossed her head to the side and giggled as she placed her hand on her hip.
“I don’t have any money and, uh, I’m married… but uh, you’re fuckin’ nice looking… no doubt about it.” He sat a bit straighter in the car and sucked his lower lip.
“Awww, you’re so cute.” She leaned into the car, blinking her long lashes as she slicked her tongue along her teeth. “What your wife don’t know won’t hurt her, and this one’ll be on the house. I haven’t had a good hard one in me in weeks, baby.”
She winked at him, sealing his fate. Minutes later, she was in the passenger’s seat, rubbing her hands all over her breasts as he watched out the corner of his eye. The man was a bit fidgety, as if he couldn’t believe his luck, but the offer of free sex was simply one the bastard couldn’t refuse.
He drove to an alleyway with an old broken-down motorcycle parked in it, put the car in park, and immediately grabbed for her like some sex addicted beast. The sleeping prince was now a frenzied maniac, pawing all over her, his thick fingers scraping against her skin. His expression went from unreadable to one of pure malevolence and insatiable desire. She smiled through the revulsion… His stench, though undetectable to the human nose, drove her crazy as his body fueled with lust to level FULL. Human pheromones were one of the most pungent odors on the fucking planet. They smelled like wild boars when aroused and the more excited he became, the harder it was to keep her fangs at bay.
“Mmmm, yeah, baby,” He buried his head between her breasts and slid his big, hard hand up her thigh. “I like it rough. Don’t cha like it rough, too, you horny Black bitch?” He laughed raucously as he pushed his chest hard against hers, his hands roaming all over her. He licked all along her cleavage, tasting her as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks.
“Mmmm hmmm, big boy… I like it real fucking rough.” She rolled her eyes.
“I wanna fuck your used up, sloppy pussy, ya fuckin’ whore! Then I wanna fuck ya in the goddamn ass! I’m gonna rip you apart!” He undid his pants and quickly whipped out his short, fat, reddened cock, which lay buried within dense, light brown pubic hair. “Come on, bitch!”
He shoved her cloak roughly up her body and knocked her legs apart, then fumbled along her panties, trying to get the damn things down.
“You can’t get a bitch’s briefs down? I thought you were a man…”
He grinned then showcased an evil, horrid smile, the kind that made her want to laugh and spit venom and scorching acid in his fucking face. She felt her eyes burning as he wrapped his hands around her throat, squeezed, released, then squeezed again. Her stomach growled and her pussy creamed as he grew impatient… She simply wouldn’t black out so he could do his dirty deed in peace… fuck her with no witnesses, not even herself. Fuck her without her judgmental eyes glaring at him. Twisting her head in a 360-degree turn, she wagged her tongue in his direction.
“What tha fuck?!”
She flung him off her with one arm, pressing him so hard into the driver’s side window, the damn thing shattered against the back of his head. His eyes grew large, his complexion pale.
“Oh, shit! I was just kidding, baby! Just playin’! I didn’t mean to hurt ya! It was just a game! I got money, okay?! It’s cool. Take it!”
She wrapped her hand around his throat and squeezed.
“Do you like that, you sick son of a bitch? Do you like being choked, your miserable life flashing before your eyes? I always pick good ones lately, ya know? Ones like you I lose not one wink of fuckin’ sleep over. How many prostitutes have you killed, huh? Five, ten, twenty? I can smell it on you… you’re a killer… so ripe, baby!”
She flung her head back and extended her fangs. His bloodcurdling screams echoed and the car rocked back and forth with his futile struggling when she descended upon him, sinking her teeth against the deliciously moist flesh, piercing it hard. Yeah, he tried to fight, but he was no match for her. Soon, he was trembling beneath her, his body succumbing to a seizure as she sucked and devoured the nauseating vessel beneath her.
When he died in her arms seconds later, she paused, blood dripping down her mouth and chin, and turned on his radio. ‘Take Me Home Tonight’ by Eddie Money was playing on the radio. She turned back to her meal. His dead eyes were looking up at the ceiling of the car, his lips twisted and hanging open. Pieces of glass dotted his hair like tiny diamonds… pretty little jewels. She grabbed him with both hands and continued to feast, making quick work of that before someone came upon them. This fucker would hold her for at least a week, perhaps two if she didn’t over-exert herself. She reached for his wedding ring, tore the finger off his hand, and laughed…
‘I’m married,’ he said… I bet your wife knows nothing about your twisted, secret life. Well, that life is over now. Hanging around areas like this, picking up women and trying to choke them to death while you get off… You son of a bitch!
She tore into his flesh with her claws now, ripping him to shreds with malice, riding the high of her extreme anger. She slid the band off the dismembered finger, tossed the digit in the backseat, and shoved the marital jewelry into his mouth. She unleashed decades upon decades of frustration, vexation, and pure rage on the fucker, used him and abused the bloody corpse in the most obscene ways… Cigarette burns up and down his arms, deep bites and cuts until it had gotten so good to her, she disemboweled him with her bare hands. She roared, dancing between laughter and screaming as her inner evil was let out to play…
She had a second mission now after feasting… When his body was found in the morning, there’d be little to nothing left, except his cold, stiff corpse with most of the blood drained from it, and that damn gold wedding ring jammed between his pearly white teeth…
CHAPTER THREE
Find and Fucking Seek
…Two days later
Alexandre Marseille sat behind his black desk in his law offices in Manhattan.
“I want to see it.”
The manila folder was handed to him and he rested back against his black and clear acrylic seat, leisurely opening it. He made a quick scan of the first page, then turned to the next, only pausing to adjust the gold ring on his pinky finger. Fawn, one of his many assistants, but most prized, tossed her platinum blond hair over one shoulder and ran her dark violet nails against her crossed knee, legs covered in black stockings, as she slowly rocked her red bottom stiletto heel to and fro.
“It looks like you were right.”
“Of course I was,” he responded.
“Well, you were right if it is her, of course.” His eyes narrowed on her. “There’s always that possibility that it’s not.”
“If it’s not, you will pay for wasting my time. My only living brother, Victor, is already taunting me like some adolescent who witnessed me fall and scrape my knee while he runs off with my bicycle… childish fucking antics.” He hissed. “I have no time for it.”
“You both are so very important. Perhaps I’m naïve my Lord but I wish you two had a better relationship. I’ve only spoken to him
once over the phone, but he seemed to be—”
“You know nothing of him. What he appears to be and what he actually is are two vastly different things.”
“I wasn’t aware that there was hatred between the two of you.”
“I don’t hate him. I’d have to care about his existence in order to feel that sort of emotion and besides, hatred is weakness spun in the wrong direction, like a spider’s web being made in reverse.”
“I apologize if this is none of my business, but what is the issue with you and Victor?”
He hesitated for a moment, then decided to answer. He rarely discussed family business, especially with the help, but under such conditions, it may aid him in his endeavors if Fawn understood the true severity of the issue at hand.
“He wishes to replace me, and he knows if this is not resolved soon, that is exactly what will take place. I have a certain amount of time to marry and mate. And even then, it’s not guaranteed. The bride has to be of a certain quality, and under the current rules I don’t make that determination—the Council does. I’d have to override it, challenge them and that would require a potential investigation and then ruling. If I defy their verdict, I could potentially be stripped of my crown. Due to the fact that my preferred route is to seek a Turned Vamp, it will more than likely lead to a hearing. I see no other way around it.”
“I see. I understand now. I will make sure to keep tabs on her, especially since she’s such a likely candidate.”
“You do that. Now, did you find out how long she’s been in New York?”
He paused from reading the materials and glanced at his cellphone. He had court in an hour and a half. He then returned to scanning the information; his heartbeat quickened with possibilities.
This is her… I just know it.
“She comes and goes… hasn’t been here that long this particular stint.”
Alexandre reached for his glass of water with a few drops of blood floating in it, enjoyed a small sip, then continued turning the pages—chock full of material about the comings and goings of a turned creation by the name of Venus Anderson.
“Let’s see… She’s a professor. Interesting.” He flipped to another page.
“Yes, there are many interesting tidbits about her.” Fawn grinned proudly. “I dug up quite a bit, though I’m sure that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Nevertheless, no one has gotten this far, except for me.” She sat straighter, like a dog who’d brought her master his slippers.
“Don’t get fuckin’ carried away with your enthusiasm,” he snarled. “This report is unacceptable.”
“Why is that?”
“Why? Are you kidding me?!” He shook the stack in the air, causing the pages to flap. The woman folded in her seat. He hated the way she squirmed. “It’s not complete!” He sighed in frustration. “Did I ask for half a bride?!”
“No, sir.”
“Then don’t do a half assed job! Give me a half assed report! Ask half assed questions! I’ll need more information into her background. So far, all of this is material from the last five years, correct?”
“Yes, some things were hard to narrow down, Lord. I believe she uses an alias at times, but Venus may be her birthname… still looking into that.” He took another sip of his water and read another page detailing the layout of her apartment.
“I wonder why she went back to the name Venus? I imagine she is more comfortable with her birthname than any alias she used. If I were to gamble as to the cause, I’d bet she is attached to her past spent in the city and enjoys living here, so she tries to be as genuine and comfortable as possible… more at home, so to speak. That’s typical human behavior, unfortunately. They cling to things like that, especially the females.” He sighed. “Emotional creatures they are. I’m certain you recall, well, you still seem to struggle with it from time to time.”
Fawn’s expression remained placid. He was impressed. Her sense of entitlement grated his nerves, especially since it was interlaced with her desire for them to have some sort of romantic interlude. For her to be one of his concubines. Still, she was rather cunning, which was why he’d accepted her proposal when she’d asked to take on the task. That said, he’d had it up to here with humans, Half Breed vampires such as dhampirs, turned Vamps, and slothful fellow vampires, too. He surmised the stress of it all was making his patience impossibly shorter.
Right after yet another detective failed him, he’d once again set out to take matters into his own hands. Just like in the days when he’d been a curious youth in Paris, he headed out on foot and searched for the culprit that brought him angst; in this case, his long-lost lover. No horses, vehicles, or mobs accompanied him this time, like the way it had been back then. It was just him, the night air, and his senses on all eight cylinders.
“I’ve been seeing her in my sleep and in the waking hours, too.” Fawn’s eyes grew wider at his confession. “I only had the tales from my sorcier to go by. I suppose I was lucky to get that bit of information growing up, quite honestly. More times than not, we know nothing about our future mates. It’s all things we have to find out on our own. The seeking and catching is consistent across the board, however… This evens up the playing field. Unlike you all, my situation is different because of my bloodline. Your dating and married lives follow the typical human practices and protocol.”
“Is that so bad?”
“Yes, it is. We are not the same, Fawn. Each of us has multiple soulmates. We can feel each other, even as children. We can choose which one, from an energy standpoint, we are most connected to. We do the choosing unconsciously. It helps us eventually cross paths but sometimes, complications slow down the process.”
“So… there’s more than one option? It doesn’t have to be this woman?” Fawn’s brow arched as she smiled.
“There are options, but I chose a long, long time ago. And I’m happy with my choice.” Her smile slowly dissipated. “There are rules for the Royals. Rules that can’t be broken. The journey can go on for an eternity.”
“What would happen if you married any random vampire, my Lord? I mean, what’s the worst that could occur?” She shrugged. “All of this stress you are under could be over and done with if you simply picked a woman, say, right now, and married.”
Her tone brimmed with hope. He’d seen her dreams, tasted her desires for him… She was fine fuck material but a Reine she was not.
“The worst that could occur is unrelenting unhappiness, ill health, and the loss of everything. Mating with the wrong one can, well, cause complications…” He exhaled loudly, his forehead bunched in annoyance as he reflected on the countless Vamps that had attempted to prove to him that they were his betrothed. Everyone wanted to be queen. The control and respect that came with that position was seen as a grand prize, but so few of them understood what it truly meant.
“I imagine if you are now dreaming of her, she may feel the pressure.”
Fawn was full of curiosity, driven by her own selfish desires. He respected that… couldn’t be upset with the woman for trying. He humored her and continued.
“Not necessarily. She’s a turned, like you.” He waved his hand flippantly in her direction. “Your senses, intelligence, and intuition are never as accurate as those of a true blood such as myself. Some of you are very good, but that’s an exception, not a rule, and since most of you are turned by other turned, your skills and gifts are weakened greatly. Physically, you don’t even compare. Psychically, you don’t come close, either, so the chances of her being my equal on any fucking level is highly doubtful. Dealing with you turned bitches is sometimes like trying to teach someone in a perpetual infantile state of mind… It’s exhausting, really. I just hope my bride has some redeeming qualities, unlike most of you.”
He didn’t miss how Fawn’s teeth nudged through her gums in annoyance at his criticism.
“Temper, temper now… I’ve killed for less,” he warned with a smile while still keeping his eye on the papers. “I was testing you. I do
n’t quite feel that way about turned women. There are differences amongst you; some of you I even dare say are worthy opponents… but you proved my point about being irrational and emotional creatures. It’s sickening. You all must be broken.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, bitch. Just be quiet, keep your damn jealousy in check, your overly sensitive nature off of my radar, and do your fucking job,” he snapped. “Don’t make me regret my decision to have you by my side during this endeavor. Go and get me the razor.”
She sprang from her chair and disappeared out of the office.
Now that the room was clear, he could fall into the pool of his private thoughts and drown. For the past several months, he’d felt this Venus woman strongly… knew she had to be close. During one of his nighttime strolls, he settled upon a block in the East Village of Manhattan. He didn’t know her name, what she looked like… but he’d picked up on her, a strange yet familiar scent. Intoxicating.
Less than an hour later, he’d narrowed it down to an apartment building. It was a secure structure, with security systems in place and even a doorman, but that hadn’t stopped him from fixating on one window in particular, turning into a discreet peeping Tom…
He’d moved fast then. Upon returning to his lair, he rounded up a number of his servants and assistants, Fawn heading the charge, and let them know that he needed the area checked out. And now, here he was, finally holding a blueprint into the life of the possible mate he’d been seeking—one meant for him, and him alone.
“Is she married? Has she mated and borne children?” he asked as Faith handed him the razor and sat back on her seat.
“No marriages on record. No children that I can tell, either.”
“Interesting… it wouldn’t stop me either way, of course.” He shrugged. “I mention it because then that would have to be another inconvenience and waste of time to deal with… destroying a husband and offspring. Since I highly doubt she’s a born immortal, those situations of them taking marriage less seriously are not uncommon, they definitely have children without a second thought. Pure Bloods have no accidental pregnancies. Anyway, I like to prepare in advance when at all possible.”