by Tiana Laveen
“I have a photo of her that I took when she was unaware. Are you interested in seeing it?” The woman reached into her briefcase to retrieve it. He waved his hand in her direction.
“No. As I told you, this has to be handled in a specific way. It’s interesting, though.” He grinned as he reflected on the whole idea of being handed a photo of his beloved. “Back when I was a youth, we didn’t photograph or reflect.” He placed the folder down on his desk and closed it shut. “Due to changing technology, the use of aluminum and lack of pure silver in mirrors has allowed us to be seen just like everyone else. There are positives and negatives to that, of course. Especially when one of us goes rogue and tries to blend in with society.” He polished off his blood-tinged water and reached for the razor. “Come.”
Fawn leapt from her seat, rounded the desk, and knelt before him, wrist extended. He sliced into her pale, creamy flesh, brought her arm to his mouth, and sucked the sweet essence for several minutes. Fawn trembled and slipped her hand beneath her skirt, stroking her pussy as he drank from her. He could smell her wetness, her excitement filling the air. With a curl of his tongue he swallowed one last drop of blood, then pointed to the chair she’d previously sat in. She got to her feet, tugged at her skirt, and returned to her seat, a satisfied smile on her face.
He reached for a black and white striped cigar and lit it with a match.
“No… no picture needed,” he said, picking up from where they’d left off. “Just keep track of her. I have an idea. Find out a place she is going to, an event she’s attending, somewhere public… like a library or concert… and I will make my introduction. If I’m in the vicinity, I’ll find her.”
“Consider it done. You will need to be at the courthouse in…” She glanced at her watch. “Thirty-five minutes. Your client is facing a ten year sentence with—”
“I know. We have time.”
He reached for the used black bra and matching panties his assistant had managed to confiscate from his fated mate the prior day, when this Venus female was at the laundromat. Closing his eyes, he brought the soft underwear up to his nose and gave a hearty sniff. His dick thickened and he clawed at his desk, fangs partially descended as blood rushed within him.
“She’s absolutely divine… deliciously made. I can’t wait to fuck the living blood completely out of her. I’ve found my Reine Du Sang…”
Venus held the cold bottle of beer with one hand and rubbed the side of her neck with the other. Her anxiety levels were at an all-time high, and that had been a brand new struggle within the last few months. Not one to wrestle with such things, she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why she suddenly felt terrified, almost on par with the angst and anxiety she’d experienced running away from the Miller plantation so many years ago. The sensation came and went, but as soon as she entered the house party with Deborah and Camille, it had made an ugly return.
I just need to get out more… it’s all in my head. I only go out to work, run errands, and feed these days. It’s becoming boring and far too routine. Maybe it was a good idea to come here, after all.
She took a swig of the beer and plastered on a fake smile as she watched her girlfriends dance and mingle. The Brooklyn brownstone she stood inside was magnificent. It had an open layout; a cozy feel mixed with modern flair. One of her favorite colors, aquamarine, was used as an accent color.
“Hi,” A handsome Hispanic man with a bald head approached her, extending his hand. “My name is Benson.”
“Hi, Benson, nice to meet you.” She shook his hand, admiring his sharp glasses. “I’m Venus.” The well-built guy stood about 5’10”, and he had an endearing, lopsided smile. His dark brown eyes almost glowed under the ceiling lights. He slid up beside her, his interest clearly marked.
“Venus, like one of the Williams sisters… nice. Ya play tennis?” he asked, as if that were an original question, one she’d never heard before.
She inwardly rolled her eyes, took another taste of the beverage to swallow down a flip response just itching to fly from her mouth, and shook her head.
“Nope.”
“Hmmm, you sure seem in shape though… damn!” The guy licked his lower lip then smacked them together. Her gut roiled in disgust. He eyed her like a turkey sitting on the table during the heinous ‘Kill an Indian’ celebration better known as Thanksgiving. “Nice ass, too!”
“Thank you, and on that note, I don’t like the shape of this conversation, and you’re the actual ass, so if you’ll excuse me, Benson the loser, fuckboy numero uno, I would like to jam my damn head in the toilet and try to drown before I talk to you one second longer.”
“Oh, come on, honey!” He chortled.
“My name is Venus, like I already told you. I am not bee vomit, I am not your honey. Guys like you get on my damn nerves. I was having a fine night until you rolled up with your shit. Get the fuck outta here.”
“Damn! I’m sorry, baby, I mean, Venus. Really, I am! I didn’t mean any harm at all.” He looked downright flustered; his smile vanished and his complexion deepened. “You’re just all by yourself over here and I figured, hell…” He threw up his hands. “Maybe I have a shot.” He smiled sadly. “I think you’re gorgeous, all right? I’ve had one too many, I tried too hard and it backfired. I’m not usually like this. I know that you’re completely out of my league, but if Jay-Z can get Beyoncé, then I thought I might have a chance, too!” She chuckled at his words, her apprehension lessening a smidgen. “Do you accept my apology? Can we start over?”
“Apology accepted. So, Benson, what do you do?”
You’re still written off but talking to you may pass the time faster.
“I’m a teacher over at Brownsville Academy High School… 65.”
“Ohhh, okay.” She nodded, now truly intrigued. “That’s excellent… a thankless job to some degree. I’m a professor at Colombia University. I teach Art History.”
“Nice! I see we have something in common. I’d like to talk to you more about that, actually. So what made you decide to—” The music transitioned to ‘Naughty Girl’ by Beyoncé. “If that’s not a coincidence, I don’t know what is! Let’s dance… Lemme be Jay-Z for just one night. Throw a dog a bone!”
She chuckled at his words as he led her to a free spot in the jampacked residence and they began to dance, laugh, and have a good time. The song seemed to come to an abrupt stop and Knoc-Turn’al’s ‘Muzik’ blared through the speakers, starting a frenzy.
She closed her eyes and swayed to the music, screaming the lyrics, her beer high in the air like some lighter at a concert. She fell deep into herself, the bass thumping through her skull and shattered soul. The air around her seemed to shift then, and a suffocating darkness came over her, but she couldn’t open her eyes, couldn’t stop dancing, couldn’t stop summoning her African ancestors as she spun and moved her feet.
My feet are dancing on air… I am light as a snowflake falling from the sky…
Two strong arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her close…
Benson?
A heavenly scent filled her senses and someone hard, muscular, tall and cold held her tight, his chest flush against her body as if he were about to fuck her right then and there. They moved to the music, in sync, in rhythm. She tried to open her eyes but couldn’t; the man was spinning her around and around. The clanking of shackles beat in her ears, applause and whistles from her friends rang in the air as she danced. The beer was out of her hand as if by magic and she twisted and turned, falling into a mental, physical, and emotional vortex. She felt high on something strong, drunk and happy. Her pussy grew instantly wet as a deep, guttural moan echoed close to her ear…
“I’m going to suck your soul, the bit that’s left of it… swallow you fucking whole.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped, her heart beating painfully in her chest. She was looking into icy blue eyes… Dead eyes, yet so full of life. A tall, broad shouldered mammoth of a man with a slender, hard build tower
ed over her. His clean-shaven face showcased high cheekbones over an angular jawline, a deep chin cleft, raven black hair, thick brows, plush pink lips, and flesh so pale and flawless, it reminded her of the morning’s first snowfall.
“Who are you?”
He ran his large hand against her face and shook his head.
“You know who the fuck I am, my Love.” His tone was demeaning, hateful, passionate and dreadful all at once. He narrowed his gaze on her, still dancing, then spun her around once more for good measure. She had no control of herself as he waltzed her across the room and pressed her flush against the wall. Her friends cat called as if she were having the time of her life, as if this monster, this feral beast, was what she’d asked for, what she wanted, what she needed.
“Get off me!” She said through gritted teeth. He grabbed her wrist and kept her steady. The music seemed to drown her out, and all the laughing, smiling faces grew distorted, morphed as if melting, stretching, falling apart.
“Well, look at you, pretending to still be human!” He lightly laughed. “How adorable. You’re a Turned Vamp in denial. Jesus.” He rolled his eyes. “What in the hell was I thinking when I chose you?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about!”
“Sure you do. You just don’t remember yet. I felt no need for pretenses. I’ve waited far too long for this moment. You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined… and your smell! Mmmm, soooo sweet, baby. I could just eat you up!” He suddenly released her and stepped back, looking her up and down with seriousness in his eyes. Opening his long black jacket, he revealed an expensive black suit, paired with a black and white damask print tie. “Do you like it?” He did a 360, a haughty smirk on his face. “I wore it just for you.”
She moved around him, surveying the place, trying to find the main bedroom where she’d locked up her purse, along with Deborah’s and Camille’s. She raced away, trying to keep her distance, while refraining from attracting too much attention to herself. To her surprise, he didn’t chase after her. Once she entered the room with the key the owner had given her, she grabbed her purse, slung it over her shoulder, then speed-walked to the exit, headed for home.
But when a shadow blocked the light by the closed door, nausea filled her.
“Why are you afraid of me, Venus? I finally found you… You should be happy.”
“Leave me alone!” She clutched her sweater, panic striking within. Her fangs descended as her heart pounded hard within her chest. Flashes of running through the wilderness, the dogs hot on her tail, came flooding back. “I don’t know you!”
“That’s correct. You don’t know me, but you soon will. Open the door. Let’s talk.”
“I don’t want to talk! I don’t want to get to know you. I don’t want to dance! Now please, go away!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t do that, Venus. You see, I came here to get something that belongs to me and I refuse to go back home fucking empty handed,” he said with a hiss.
“I am going to call the police!” She reached into her purse with a shaky hand, only to be met with laughter from the other side of the closed door.
“And tell them what, baby? A man danced with me… aaaahhh!” he teased, cackling. His deep laughter boomed and shook her insides, her ribs rattled from the low-pitch of his tone. “Oh, what about this one? ‘Officer! There’s a vampire here. Help! Oh, wait… I’m one too, never mind.’ Click.” He laughed even harder that time.
She sighed, took a deep breath, and slipped her phone back into her purse. They both were silent for a spell… only the thumping of the music reminded her that she was still amongst mixed company as she slipped in and out of a dreamy state.
He’s doing this… he’s messing with my mind! I’ve got to find a way out of here!
“I’ve dreamed of tasting your lips—both sets, baby. I’ve fantasized about licking the splatter of your blood when I sink my teeth into your inner thigh, biting into your pretty brown skin, yanking your hips towards my hard thrusts, wrapping your thighs around my neck. I’ve dreamed about you arching your body, rising to receive me as I make you take every nasty and hard thrust until you orgasm. And then I’ve dreamed of watching my big cock disappear inside your mouth after fucking you day and night, baby… never turning you loose.”
She could hear him scratch against the door, doom, dread and lust filling her like a goblet. She walked closer to the entrance and pressed her palm against the wood. A strange kind of electricity shot through her. She imagined his hand on the other side sending that current within her; it certainly must’ve been there.
“Do you feel that, Venus?” His dark, deep voice echoed, as if they were in a chamber all alone together. “It’s the energy between us. Come home with me tonight, Venus. We need to get to know one another. Don’t fight this… don’t drag out what is destined to be.”
“I will kill you or die trying.” She worked hard to free her mind from his control, then swung the door open, her nostrils flared. She looked up at the tall, threatening figure but didn’t flinch. She worked through her fears. She saw something in him that almost made her piss herself, but she had to pretend, to make believe that she wasn’t afraid… that everything would be okay if she could just get out of that apartment and get back home. “Move.”
He smiled at her, stepped to the side, and bowed, and she walked fast down the hall, away from him. Everything seemed to be a blur as her heart beat like a snare drum. The front door loomed straight ahead. She looked behind her and gasped. He was gone. When she turned back around, there he stood, directly in front of her… only a few inches away. She opened her mouth to scream, but he plunged his tongue inside, squelching her protests. Extending his pinky finger, the maniac scratched the back of her neck in one fell swoop. Then, he was gone before she could take another step, before she could form another word, before she could fall apart…
Angry tears welled in her eyes and yet, her body betrayed her. Her pussy throbbed with need, her nipples hardened, and her chest ached with desire.
Who was that?! What the hell just happened?!
CHAPTER FOUR
Serving Two Masters…
From the Cradle to the Grave
Perched on the roof of his penthouse at 3:07 A.M., Alexandre crouched down, resting on the balls of his feet, hunched over like a gargoyle. Arms dangling between his legs, he gazed at the flickering lights of the city. Fresh blood dripped from his fingertips, and he slid his tongue along his lips and upper teeth, chasing the fading flavor of his earlier feast. It hadn’t been a planned kill, but trouble had come knocking and he’d delighted in giving it a damn good answer. Standing to his full height of 6’6, he sucked his fingers one by one, then rubbed them on his black leather pants, cleaning off any excess.
He’d been out partying at the Mad House Club, one of his favorite dives where mortals liked to play cocaine games and toss their bodies around to techno music under spinning, vibrant lights. He rarely went there to feed; usually, he’d be interested in a fuck fest. The women who frequented the place liked to flirt and all he had to do was sit for five minutes before they gravitated towards him likes bees to honey. Tonight, however, wet pussy hadn’t been his mission. He’d simply needed to clear his mind.
As he’d left out to venture home, a guy had trailed him, hoping to shake him down for a bit of cash. He glanced at his blood splattered watch and smiled…
It must’ve been the jewelry and the clothes that made him think he could rob me…
In seconds flat, he’d had the man in his ironclad grip, crushing his larynx. Then, he’d dragged the fucker to an alley and finished him off. The bastard had got himself a one-way, nonrefundable ticket on King Alexandre Marseille Airlines… final destination, death on Bloodbath Island. After slicing into the son of a bitch’s neck with his claws, he’d sunk his teeth into his collar and dragged, pulling and tugging at the tattooed flesh. The man had still been conscious, which had made the experience all the more enjoyable. After he was good and don
e with him, he’d tossed him onto the pebble covered concrete and stomped on his head a few good times. His brain matter had oozed out of him; funny, there hadn’t been much of it…
Now here he was, ready to retire for the night.
When he returned home, he lit the first-floor fireplace, along with several lights around the vast, open living room. Turning on his stereo system, he selected ‘Chosen One’ by Valley of Wolves, playing it at high volume as he marched to his master suite bathroom.
Surrounded by clear walls and black tile, he stripped down, his bloodstained clothing falling at his feet. He turned on the cold water and slid inside the cubicle, rinsing away the filth and sticky blood.
“Ain’t nothin’ gonna stop this fire!” he sang along while the water beat against his muscles and back. He took much pride in his strapping yet lean physique, going over his body with an African soap bar, ensuring every drop of shit that fucker may have gotten on him was gone for good. He caught his reflection in the doors of the large enclosure. His light blue eyes sparkled and he smiled at himself, loving the wicked thoughts that raced through his mind at that moment.
I’m still hungry… I’m tired of playing these games with her. I’ve been more than understanding…
When he was done, he dried off and wrapped a cream towel around his waist, then brushed his teeth, gargling with baking soda. He returned to his bedroom, where he turned the music off, then lay down on top of luxurious black and gold sheets. He picked up his landline phone and dialed. He heard the first ring, then the second…
“Don’t call me again.” The dial tone soon followed. He redialed, and dialed once again, this time, leaving a voicemail.
“Venus, you beautiful fuckin’ thorn in my side… I may rip you to pieces after all,” he said with a sneer, getting back to his feet. He wrapped the cord around his hand and began to pace. “I’ve given you three days to get your shit together. I’ve called, you’ve ignored. I’ve sent flowers, you sent them back. I don’t take rejection well, baby… but on second thought…” He shrugged with a smile. “I never get rejected, so I guess there’s a first time for everything, right? Your time is up.”