e.Vampire.com

by Scarlet Black

  Dorian ran his long fingers over his face, his throat and his arms feeling a delicious tingling in his skin. It was so smooth, not a vein or blemish marred it. It felt like cool velvet.

  “Come, you must sleep until darkness falls.” Malachi took his arm gently and led him to a large bedroom.

  At the sight of the huge four poster bed, his eyes grew heavy and his limbs felt as if they were weighted down.

  He slept more soundly than he ever had before.

  When he awoke, Malachi was there. Silently they left the house and went into the woods. Dorian was amazed at the way he moved now. His every move was swift and graceful, as if he hovered just above the ground.

  He heard the woods come alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures, his ears attuned to all of it as never before. The cold, winter wind felt good against his fast moving body and he tilted his face up toward the sky marveling at the snowflakes which still fell. Each had a completely different pattern; patterns he could actually see with the naked eye.

  His mouth watered when he picked up the scent of the wolves. And it was at that moment certain things about this new life became apparent and frightening. For one, he experienced two sharp stings on his bottom lip. He ran his tongue over the top row of his teeth and gasped as he felt the sharp points of his eye teeth. The other thing was even more horrifying. The hunger was back but it was not like the first time. He couldn’t control it. He had to eat—now.

  He turned his head slowly and came face to face with Malachi. He gazed upon his new companion. His face was alabaster white, his eyes large, black and glittering and there were the tell-tale white fangs resting on his bottom lip.

  This is what I must look like right now, thought Dorian. Monstrous! Instinctively, he backed away from Malachi.

  “It’s time to hunt.” For the first time since he’d met Malachi his voice sounded sinister. His eyes were filled with malice. “Follow me.” He commanded.

  Gliding as if airborne they fell upon the wolves in their den. Dorian had a fleeting thought. Why hadn’t they picked up the scent of humans so close to them? Because you’re no longer human are you? A voice in his head mocked him.

  The wolves seemed confused at first. The ridge of fur on their backs bristled and they growled mightily.

  Finally, the largest of the three leaped into the air. Dorian caught it easily by its neck. He wrapped his hands tightly around the animal’s throat and held it at arm’s length. Its teeth gnashed at empty air and its body squirmed to break free. He brought its head to his lips and bit down hard, his teeth went past the fur, the flesh and directly into the jugular vein. The animal yelped loudly, its hind legs kicked at the air and still Dorian clung to it as the warm, sticky and sweet liquid flowed like nectar into his mouth. He closed his eyes and marveled at the unexpected sensuality of the moment. And the peace it brought to him as he listened to the sound of his own heartbeat even as the beast’s own heartbeat slowed.

  The wolf stopped struggling; its hind legs twitched once, twice and were still. He dropped the animal to the ground.

  Malachi dropped another of the wolves.

  The third tried to flee, but couldn’t escape them. Malachi and Dorian chased it down and shared it as their final meal of the evening.

  Dorian looked down at the shriveled carcass of the wolf, drained dry by him and Malachi. Surprisingly, he didn’t feel revolted at the site. He merely gazed curiously at the animal.

  Turning away, he fell in step with Malachi. The power surged through his veins from the blood meal. He felt so alive.

  He walked away from his human life and all he’d ever known into a new one where the world and all that was in it awaited him.

  ***

  The door to his office opened, breaking his reverie. He sighed and quickly composed himself. Others saw only what he wanted them to see; an unusually handsome young man with a hint of cruelty in his eyes, who was always in control and moved through the world with unrelenting confidence.

  A man entered. Dorian saw his reflection in the clean and shiny glass window. What he couldn’t see was the other man standing with him, nor could he glimpse his own reflection.

  He turned to greet them. “Good evening gentlemen. Please accept my apologies for keeping you waiting.”

  Malachi nodded without saying a word but Dorian felt his eyes scrutinizing him. The only mortal in the room was Ian Devereaux, the Chief Financial Officer of Taylor & Malachi Incorporated; a vast conglomerate, of which e.Vampire.com was only a small separate part. The man was a financial wizard and held a master’s degree in business from Harvard University. He was tall, thin and pleasant looking with reddish brown hair, blue eyes and an infectious smile.

  He knew exactly what his employers were. However, they treated him extremely well, not to mention the fringe benefits provided by the dating service, which in reality was a member’s only high priced sex club.

  Although, Dorian was sure Ian had never used the service, he’d also signed a non-disclosure agreement which couldn’t be enforced legally. The punishment for disclosing anything about the operations of e.Vampire.com or information about the personal lives of its owners was far more effective than any legal process. The penalty was death.

  Ian was a good and decent man, unlike him. The business world admired Dorian as the young entrepreneur they proclaimed a computer genius. Men respected him and women wanted him. But he wasn’t a good man. He’d become worse than his father had ever been. Over time, he’d truly become a bad guy; a man beyond redemption.

  He strode out of his office with his usual air of confidence to begin the evening’s business. Perhaps he’d be able to take his mind off the void he felt inside. He had it all and yet he had nothing.

  Chapter 3

  Jennifer sat in her Flannel PJ’s, sipping coffee, nibbling on a cinnamon roll and watching the news. Another dreaded Monday morning in Miami. Even though it was 100 degrees outside with the kind of humidity which felt like a virtual steam bath, she wrapped herself up in her favorite afghan, the last her mother had knitted for her before she died.

  She kept her air conditioning unit set to 72. She knew it was wasteful but the cool air, the PJ’s and the afghan quelled her homesickness.

  Having lived on a farm most of her life, she arose at 5:00 am each morning. It had always had been her favorite time of day. The world was quiet, and she loved to watch the sun come up.

  Watching the news in Miami was like watching a television show back home in Maine. So many things went on here. At first, she’d thought the city bristled with excitement compared to boring Maine. There, the news was pretty tame and featured a popular segment called “Big Ol’ Fish,” proclaiming who’d caught the biggest fish that week. She actually missed it.

  Around seven, she got up, showered, dressed, put on a minimal amount of make-up and put her hair up in a tight bun. There really was no sense in applying much make-up or letting her long, thick hair tumble down her back. The make-up would melt and her hair would make her neck sticky with sweat all day and drive her crazy.

  She’d had a blah weekend with no horrible dates to report to the ladies at work. Boring was better than crazy men in a dangerous city, she thought.

  Thankfully, she could walk to work and didn’t have to withstand the packed public busses. She strolled along in the still semi-quiet morning. The dew from the night before glistened on the many birds of paradise, banana-trees and bougainvillea. She had to admit, the tropical foliage was huge and stunning. Everything grew in this climate.

  When she got to the office she saw her co-workers huddled around Julie’s desk, staring and giggling at something on the computer screen. Jennifer could pick up bits and pieces of their conversation. They were so intent on what they were looking at; they never even heard her come in. And where was ‘Mr. All That and a Bag of Chips’? He had to be out of the office. None of them would dare be away from their desks if he was in.

  “No way! They didn’t!” Suzanne exclaimed.

&n
bsp; “Oh yes they did. But it can’t be real,” Mary-Lou remarked

  “It must be a joke,” Julie chimed in.

  They turned around swiftly when they heard the click-clack of Jennifer’s heels on the tile floor.

  “Hey, Jen come see this.” Julie beckoned her with the wave of her hand, her eyes still fixated on the computer screen.

  Jen squeezed in with the other three who were practically drooling over the pictures of various men on yet another dating website. Then she saw the name of the site, e.Vampire.com.

  “Are you kidding me? What a gimmick and I thought some of the other sites were bad.” Jennifer rolled her eyes.

  “Seriously, Jen you need to check these guys out. They’re totally fuck-worthy,” said Julie.

  Jennifer ignored the comment. “What fresh hell is this?” she asked, reading the “Home page” which was disturbing to say the least.

  “Hot, sexy vampires will satisfy your every fantasy! Join us for one of our masked balls and meet the sexiest beings on earth! Note: You must register for one of these meet and greets before you can sign up for membership. Memberships are not guaranteed. Your application will be accepted or rejected by our judges.”

  Jennifer groaned inside. The place sounded like a kinky sex club.

  “So what do you think, Jen? Want to sign up for one of those masked balls?” Julie’s eyes glittered with excitement. “

  “But it says they’re vampires,” said Suzanne. “They might be dangerous . . .”

  “Oh, Come on. You know it’s all harmless make believe. First of all there are no vampires and second of all, if it was really dangerous, we’d have heard about it. Lastly, everyone knows vampires can’t be photographed. So it couldn’t be real now, could it? I’ll hand it to them though, these guys are gorgeous. And it’s a cool idea.”

  “It’s a frigging sex club! Why in hell would I want to go there? I may be hard up right now, but I seriously doubt I’ll meet anyone there who I’d even go have coffee with.”

  “We don’t have to do anything. We can just go and meet some guys, maybe have a few drinks and dance,” said Julie.

  “Will you two stop talking and just look at these guys. Wow!” Mary-Lou hadn’t said a word until then, she was so fixated on that computer screen.

  “Geez, Mary-Lou, move out of the way. We can’t see,” Suzanne said.

  Mary-Lou leaned back in her chair.

  “Whoa! I have got to get me one of those.” Suzanne’s voice rose with excitement.

  “Hello. You’re married, remember? That guy you live with, James?” Julie admonished.

  “Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I’m dead. I can still look.”

  They skipped over the women’s profiles. All of the men displayed on the screen were unusually good looking.

  “Wow, look at this guy!” Suzanne read the short profile. “Malachi Van Ness, 25, Birthplace: Berlin, Germany.” He had longish blonde hair, deep-set dark brown eyes, and a very full mouth.

  “And these two,” Julie pointed to their profiles. Erik Swenson, 21, Birthplace: Stockholm, Sweden. He was a strikingly beautiful man with baby blue eyes, dirty blonde hair and a perfect smile. And Liam Sullivan, 22, Birthplace: Belfast, Ireland. His picture displayed a rugged outdoors type with unruly auburn hair, dark brown eyes and a bit of stubble on his face.

  “They’re all foreigners. How deliciously exotic,” said Suzanne.

  “Weird. They’re only a handful of guys and a few women. It has to be a sex club,” Jennifer said, as if she was schooled in such things. She didn’t need to be to figure out that something was not quite right with the place. The site was exclusive to Miami.

  Jennifer started to walk away, but then she saw him. She turned her full attention to his picture. It was so lifelike. It was as if he was looking right at her; right through her. The piercing icy blue eyes with an intimidating, yet oh so sexy hint of cruelty in them, and the unruly yet perfect shiny black hair, high chiseled cheekbones and sumptuous mouth of Dorian Taylor, 24, Birthplace, London, England.

  “Holy shit!” The words escaped Jennifer’s mouth before she could stop them.

  “Ah-ha! So, you do find some guys hot. Fuck-able even.” Julie grinned.

  Jennifer’s cheeks flamed. “Yeah he’s, um, handsome. I still think it might be dangerous to actually go there.” She felt the blush moving down her neck. That only happened when something or someone truly affected her. And Mr. Dorian Taylor definitely had.

  “Handsome? Judging by the color of your face, I’d say you think he’s red hot!”

  Jennifer didn’t think she had any more blood left to reach her face, but apparently she did. Her face was burning and she knew it was beet red.

  “What do you say, Jen? Why don’t you and I go and check it out this Friday. That’s when the next masked ball is.”

  “I don’t know Julie. How much is it to get in.”

  Julie moved her fingers at almost super-human speed across the keyboard. “It’s two-hundred per person,” she said without batting an eyelash.

  “Two-hundred bucks! I don’t have that kind of money to squander. No, I can’t go.”

  “It’ll be my treat,” Julie said.

  Suzanne and Mary-Lou sat quietly, watching the exchange between Julie and Jennifer. Suzanne couldn’t go and Mary-Lou wouldn’t. She had a great guy who worshipped her like a queen.

  “I couldn’t let you do that Julie. Besides, I don’t want to go.”

  “Scared?” Mary-Lou interjected with a devilish smile on her face.

  Jennifer looked at her without answering.

  “We dare you to go, right Suzanne?” Mary-Lou nudged Suzanne with an elbow.

  “Yeah, we double-dog, no, we triple-dog dare you to go,” Suzanne chimed in.

  Jen looked from one to the other. She felt outnumbered. “Christ. What are we in high school?”

  Julie laughed. “So what if we’re not in high school. We still dare you. Why not take a chance? Didn’t you ever go to any raunchy, wild parties while you were at Colby College?”

  “Not really. I studied like I was supposed to and went home every weekend to help my folks.”

  “Jesus. You really are a country girl, aren’t you? That settles it. We’re going. I won’t take no for an answer.” Julie quickly pulled up the payment screen. The website took MasterCard, Visa and had a PayPal button as well.

  Hmm. PayPal and Vampires, could this get any stranger? Jennifer thought.

  As bizarre as the whole thing seemed, when the payment was made and she had her ticket in hand, Jennifer felt butterflies dancing like they were on steroids in her stomach, her palms were sweaty and her heart beat fast. The image of Dorian Taylor was etched into her mind.

  Suddenly, realizing it was only Monday, she couldn’t wait until Friday. She wanted to at least catch a glimpse of this “so called” vampire who looked like a God. He’s totally out of my league, she thought. A guy like that surely had women throwing themselves at his feet.

  That night, curled up in her afghan she fell into a deep sleep. She dreamed of piercing, icy blue eyes looking into hers and a full mouth, his mouth coming down hard on hers and her hands running through his hair, pulling him to her.

  She felt as if her body was afloat in a sea of pure desire.

  She woke abruptly, breathing hard, all flushed and sweaty. Tentatively, she reached down, touched her sex and gasped. She was wet, really wet! Embarrassed, she looked around the room, expecting someone to know that she’d just had her first wet dream.

  “Dorian Taylor,” she whispered. She hadn’t even met him and already he was unforgettable. It took a long time before sleep claimed her again. Her last conscious thought was of him.

  Chapter 4

  On Tuesday morning, Jennifer and Julie went into “Mr. All That’s” office and requested a vacation day on Friday.

  “Why do you need Friday off?” He asked sternly, his eyes fixed on Julie’s generous bust line.

  God, what a creep, thought
Jennifer.

  Jennifer stammered, “We have . . . plans that night and we need time to get ready . . .”

  Thankfully, Julie interrupted her. Jennifer saw her eyes narrow and her mouth tighten. She must’ve noticed just where Mr. Marshall was looking. “We have the time available. It shouldn’t be a problem, now, should it?” Julie’s voice was authoritative. He didn’t intimidate her. She stared defiantly at him, forcing him to stop gawking at her breasts.

  Geez, thought Jennifer, I wish I was that confident. The guy petrified the hell out of her.

  “Very well, you may take the day.” Mr. Marshall looked down at the papers on his desk, shuffling them haphazardly. “Just make sure your work is caught up.”

  “Thank you Sir,” Julie said with a sarcastic emphasis on the word “Sir.”

  Jennifer mumbled a quick Thank you.

  “Fucking pervert,” Julie muttered when they left his office. “Guess where we’re going Friday?”

  “Where?” Jen had no clue.

  “The Red Market Salon.”

  “Oh.” Jennifer wanted to protest but didn’t. She really wanted to work on building her confidence. She was tired of the remarks about how naïve she was, her clean country looks and her lack of sophistication in a place that worshipped it.

  The Red Market Salon was a world class beauty salon. Celebrities and the very wealthy frequently went there. It was located in the exclusive Bar Harbour Shops. Many of the stylists there had trained in Paris and New York and were second to none. They were also exorbitantly expensive.

  She knew Julie would pay and this time she wouldn’t argue about it. Julie’s family was very rich. They owned hotels from Miami to California. Money wasn’t an object for her. Julie had once told her only worked so she wouldn’t turn into a spoiled rich bitch.

  On Friday morning, Julie came to pick her up in her brand new Chevrolet Corvette convertible. She had a baseball cap on and big, sparkly sunglasses.