“How about a beer?” Being hungry and the need to eat and soon made her cut him off. His droning grated on her nerves. However, he served the food, so she tried to appear as sweet and attractive as she could.
“We got Bud Light, Miller Light, Amber Bock, Sam Adams—”
“Bud Light sounds fine.” She interrupted his litany again, and then, regretting her impatience, followed her order by pasting on a too-sweet smile.
Her noisy stomach reminded her every few seconds of how slow the time ticked by. After what seemed like an eternity, he returned with the hamburger and beer, and set them on the bar. The hamburger disappeared down her gullet as though she were a wild animal devouring prey; the entire beer went down in one long swig. A napkin cleaned the residue off her mouth, and she leaned back, satisfied. Stomach gas from all she had eaten and gulped down started rising in her esophagus, making her want to belch, but in spite of the bar’s sleazy clientele, she retained her dignity.
A definite buzz clouded her perception as she walked in the condo door, swaying slightly. Focused concentration kept her from tripping over her own feet. Evie sat on the couch in the living room.
“Hi, Poisonous. Did you enjoy your walk?”
Poisonous stood still. Even then, she swayed slightly. Without missing a beat, she remembered her ruse, and took it up where she left off. “Yes I did. You live in a nice area of D.C. A little of the old mixed in with the new; gives a neighborhood character.”
Evie eyes honed in on her, and try as she might, she couldn’t avoid her stare. “Is something wrong? If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a little woozy. Are you all right?”
Poisonous kept her distance. Evie might smell the beer on her breath. “Yes. I’m fine, thanks. Think I’ll just retire to my room.”
“You sure? You still haven’t eaten anything.”
“Oh... that. I kind of grabbed a bite while I was out. Right down the street.” The hurt look on Evie’s face didn’t escape her. “Oh, don’t worry honey. I appreciate your thoughtfulness, but I was near a restaurant, and decided to stop on in: spur of the moment kind of thing. You know: seize the day, or something like that.” She gave Evie a look as though she couldn’t help herself.
“Okay.” To her relief and satisfaction, Evie didn’t say anything more about it; she just walked to her room. After a few minutes, the muffled sound of Evie’s voice talking to her boyfriend emanated from her bedroom
“Phew! That was close.” She stumbled into her room, and threw off all her clothes “I hate clothes: they are such a nuisance.” To remedy her unfortunate situation, she put on a comfortable nightgown. She stretched, and then rubbed the nightgown, luxuriating in the softness of it. “Ahh: a luxurious silk nightgown; now this is much better.” In an odd way, she enjoyed the soft feeling of the nightgown. As Poisonous, hard, brittle scales covered her body; as a daughter of Eve, soft skin covered her body. This and the soft nightgown contributed to a very pleasurable sensation. She could get used to this. Maybe being human wasn’t so bad after all.
A loud, long belch snuck out of her before she could catch herself, and it felt good. Covering herself with bed linen staved off the goose bumps. Settled and comfortable on the bed, she began thinking of men she might know here in D.C. She had tormented many, but Shane and his friends jumped to mind right away. For a moment, her heart leapt. The thought of Shane made her heart start pounding, and wistful memories of her recent encounter with him—as well as having trained him well to be a player—drifted in and out of her mind. Then, a lonely ache in her heart swept the thought aside. Being sad and lonely were two things she wanted to avoid at all costs.
Shane’s good friend Roger Bonilla frequented many of his bawdy parties. The mobile phone she had just acquired got her Roger’s address, which showed up in the personal numbers in the non-business section of the online phonebook. She remembered the address to be in the U Street Corridor of the Shaw neighborhood. The numbers entered on her new cell phone put her through to Roger’s phone.
“Hello?”
“Hi! Is this Roger Bonilla?”
“Speaking. Who’s this?”
“Hi, Roger, I’m Perri Loliyekar. I’m an old friend of Shane Logan.”
“Oh really? I don’t think we’ve ever met.”
“No, we haven’t, but I’ve just recently moved to the District from being out of town, and I thought I’d start getting to know the locals better. I thought maybe we could meet over coffee or something. I like Shane, and I’d like to get to know some of his friends as well.”
“Well, sure. Any friend of Shane’s a friend of mine.”
“Good. I’m looking forward to... you know... getting better acquainted.” The last phrase must have had a positive effect: first, he cleared his throat, and then said, amiably, “Sure. I’d really like that. Why don’t we meet at the Starbucks in the Chevy Chase Pavilion?”
“Sure; sounds nice.”
“Do you need a ride?”
“Oh, no thanks; I prefer to take the train.”
“Okay; how ‘bout four o’clock?”
“Sounds wonderful; I’m looking forward to it.”
“Okay, I’ll see you there.”
The End button disconnected the call. A flush of adrenaline coursed through her as she pondered the hunt. My first prey...mmm.
The thought floated softly into her mind and pricked her heart. The thought of his face floated in her mind, arousing her desire for him. “Oh why not?” The routine for Roger repeated. The phone rang a few times.
“Hello?”
Her heart started pounding and her palms became sweaty. Emotions overcame her, making a strange feeling come over her. This was a man she was attracted to, and not just out of lust.
“Hello? Who’s this?”
She started shaking, unable to control her body. A thumb quickly disconnected her cell phone before she could let her emotions go astray and say something stupid, making a fool of herself. She stared at the wall and said nothing. Thousands of thoughts of all the years of filling Shane with lust and sexual desire bounced through her mind like the ball in a pinball machine in an old gallery of arcade games. Tears dropped from her eyes as thoughts of Shane lingered, surprising her.
When she finally calmed down, she chided herself. “What in the name of seduction is wrong with you? Why do you think of Shane like a lovesick human? He’s just someone you tormented for many years, and well, I might add. You’re beginning to disgust me, Poisonous. Do not have feelings for this human. Demons do not love; even demons that pose as human.” She jumped out of bed, ran to her bathroom and washed her face in cold water to calm herself. “I need to leave before I think of him again and feel those emotions.” Needing a respite from emotions rendering her helpless, she headed out the door. As luck would have it, Evie was still talking to Carlo in her bedroom. Thank Lucifer for small favors.
Four
The magazine rack had every variety of things to read: Gossip rags, current events—you name it. Magazines for men were higher up on the rack, and next to them, she found what she wanted. “I’ll take the Washington Night Scene, please.” Magazine paid for, she headed down into the subway station. Reading every word, images of hapless victims filled her mind; a wet tongue ran slowly over lips as each page turned. “Oh yes. I must try that club, and soon.” Adrenalin and blood flowed faster until her entire body trembled in anticipation. Thoughts of leading men or women astray, and most likely, eradicating them filled her with a heightened sense of bloodlust. She took out a notebook and jotted down a list of things she needed to do.
Then, she saw a forum, where readers contributed their ideas and experiences. She read the various responses, and said, “I can do this. In fact, I can do this better.” The web address where one posted their stories rested at the bottom of the first page of the forum. Obviously, the more interesting posts made it to this magazine. “I must get on my computer, and submit my ideas to this. These amateurs need lessons in the art of getting the
opposite gender attracted to you.”
The nearest seller of computers, smart phones and other electronics resided approximately fifteen minutes to the north in a little shopping mall. Her new bank card in hand, she bought a powerful computer, and took it back home.
Once back in the condo, she perused the magazine. One particular caught her eye almost immediately: a forum named The Washington Night Scene. The forum included the website. As she scanned through the various threads in the forum, one subject caught her attention The Art of the Chase. Immediately she typed out her first blog post in. The question in the forum was,
“What techniques do you use to meet someone?”
PoisonousPerri said:
I notice that a lot of you consider whether or not the person you meet likes, or even more pathetically, loves you. This is where you fail. Getting into a person’s good graces has nothing to do with how you feel. Attracting a person you are interested in is tantamount to persuasion. Let the object of your desire know that you are available to them. You must draw attention to yourself, and make yourself as attractive to them as is humanly possible. Also, be sure to consider the person as a prize to be won, prey to be devoured.
Mostly, remember it’s all a game to win. Develop your skills of attraction, and you will always get what you want.
The Metro train rattled along on the Red Line towards the Friendship Heights station, on her way to meet Roger. After transferring to the Red Line from the Green-Yellow line, Poisonous alighted in a car towards the back, where few humans were. Walking towards an empty seat, a familiar scent drifted into her nostrils. Possessing an uncanny ability to smell emotions, Poisonous sensed anger in the air. Following that unmistakable scent, she soon came upon a young girl, who looked to be in a hurry to get somewhere. Walking up to her, she sat in the seat next to her. “Excuse me, honey…you look like you’re trying to get somewhere—in a hurry.”
“Don’t bother me, lady. I’m in no mood.”
“I think you’re running away from something. Someone has upset you, and you want to get as far away from them as possible. Am I right?”
“How would you know? You don’t know me at all.”
It was time for introductions. “I’m Perri. What’s your name?”
A wary stare and a few moments later, the girl finally said, “Samantha.”
“Well, Samantha, if I told you I could take you far away from here, to a place where whoever made you angry—probably your overbearing parents—could no longer bother you, would you like that?”
First a puzzled look, then, “Where would you take me, and why? What do you care about me?” she asked with distrust behind her words.
“Well, let’s just say that I know how you feel. I’ve been rejected as well, and I have done very well for myself since then. I’ve learned to live life on my own terms: I call the shots, and I choose my destiny. Would you like to do the same?”
“I’d really like to get away from my parents. They think everything I do is wrong. They don’t like the kids I hang out with. They always criticize the way I dress, and lecture me about the fact that I like partying. I don’t think it’s so bad to have some fun. School is boring, and I want more out of life than just being like every other boring kid.”
“You’d like some adventure, right? Something completely wild and crazy, about which you don’t have to answer to anyone. What would you say to that?”
“Sounds fun. But where would we find that? Most places are pretty much the same. Small towns; big cities: they all have a bunch of rules and regulations that keep us from having fun. They call it wild and disorderly conduct. I just think it’s having fun, not having to follow the same rules as everyone else.”
“Listen, Samantha. I know just such a place. Follow me, and I’ll take you there.”
“But where are we going. The Red Line train only goes to Gaithersburg. What’s so interesting about that?”
Powerful suggestion shone into Samantha’s unwitting eyes. “Come with me, my dear, and you’ll soon find out.”
At the end of the line in the Shady Grove Station, Poisonous waited until all had left the car, then changed back to a demon. Wrapping her tentacles around Samantha, she flew up into the air, and headed for a place where some of her colleagues had a thriving business of making young girls and boys into sex slaves.
Alighting in a city in Texas where many runaways had unwittingly been taken advantage of, she landed at a very expensive hotel in the tonier part of town, where several of her fellow demons controlled the business at hand. She and Samantha landed in the lobby, where most of the who’s who of power brokers loitered. A demon of Violence, although not Anger and Murder, greeted her. Demons of Violence only liked perpetrating the ruin of human lives by self-destructive acts. Samantha was ripe for being a victim of the wiles of the demons.
“Vile Destruction! Good to see you again. How’s business?”
‘Poisonous! My evilness. It has been a while. What brings you to this part of the world?”
“I have here a young lady that wants to escape the restrictions of human morals. I think she would be a perfect specimen.”
Vile Destruction looked over Samantha from top to bottom. Well, she is young, and nubile—very attractive, I might add—and old enough to know how to please the desires of burning flesh. I’ll take her.”
A gentleman in an expensive suit with a cigar between his teeth and rings on his pinkie and ring fingers walked into the room. Looking at the gathered crowd, and in particular, the young girl, he said, “My, my…looks like we have a new volunteer.”
Poisonous smiled, recognizing the man from previous business. “Oily Lies! Good to see you again. How’s business?”
“’Doing pretty well,” he replied. “Although some of our workers tend to get sick, which means we have to turn them out on the street. They usually die within a couple of weeks.”
“A shame, really. You’d think they’d take better care of themselves.”
“Well, we use them as long as we can, and thanks to business associates like you, we can always get fresh meat.”
“My pleasure.” Turning to Vile Destruction, she said, “She’s all yours. I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”
* * *
Back in the District of Columbia, she landed in the women’s bathroom in the Friendship Heights Metro Station. Situated in a stall, she changed back to Perri, then headed up the stairs and walked towards the Chevy Chase Pavilion. Minutes later, consulting the Mall Map, and using her heightened sense of smell, the smell of strong coffee led her to the Starbucks. Poisonous recognized Roger as soon as she saw him. “Hi, Roger. I’m Perri.” His eyes scanned every inch of her body, making her feel a little self-conscious at first, then filled with satisfaction that a son of Adam would admire her form.
He smiled encouragingly as she approached. “Oh, hi Perri. You’re even prettier than I imagined.” They hugged. “Well, follow me,” Roger said, putting his hand behind her shoulders, guiding her to a quiet corner of the coffee shop.
After a few minutes, the small talk wore on her; it was time to move in for the kill. “So, Roger…is there anything interesting to do in this town, other than all the usual touristy things?”
“There are the usual nightclubs, of which I hear The Capital Scene is the hottest. Would you like to check it out sometime?”
“Hmmm. Sounds full of possibilities.”
“So, how about if I pick you up this Friday, ‘bout eight-thirty?”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
A smile. “Okay, I’ll see you then.”
“You certainly will. You won’t disappoint me, will you?” The question hung in the air, full of assertiveness, yet gentle.
“I’ll do my best not to.”
Her arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him close. Her lips kissed him in earnest. “Be good...” Smiling, and filled with anticipation, she walked back towards the Metro station, looking back to smile at him as she walked away.
Later that night, she lay in bed, images of her and Roger permeating her thoughts. Instinctively, she liked this man. An aura of power and strength emanated from him. Adrenaline coursed through her, and her entire body shivered. "This is driving me crazy...I can’t get him out of my mind." Several minutes later, after imagining all the things they could do together, with the possibility of her corrupting him, she finally succumbed to weariness. Soft and rhythmic breaths moved her chest up and down as sleep overtook her.
* * *
Wednesday, July 1st
Poisonous followed Samantha as she walked up to the elevator. Go to room 1215 they had told her. Samantha got off the elevator, and walked west down the hall until she reached the room in question. The lock card went into its slot, and the door clicked. The handle turned and let her in.
Poisonous took in the room, admiring the view. “The Executive Suite, huh; pretty fancy. I like this.”
The suite was very large. A panoramic view made it close to three thousand square feet. Subdued lighting glowed off the mahogany furniture. The room had all the swanky accouterments: a bottle of champagne on the bar in the living room; a large screen television which played some farcical B-movie. A fireplace sat against an opposite wall, stocked with a large log, but not lit for the summer. Even at this time of the evening, the temperature outside hovered just above eighty degrees.
Just next to the fireplace, an entrance went into a separate dining room, which had a large mahogany table, replete with china service, silverware and a vase of fresh flowers in the middle, and a dedicated pantry/kitchen. Moving towards the back of the suite, she looked out the window overlooking, and saw the evening traffic taking residents to local restaurants, the Theatre District, or perhaps, even to a nearby bar or local attraction. The streetlights illuminated the passing cars, buses, and Metro trams of Houston.
Poisonous: A Visit To Earth (DC Angels Book 2) Page 5