The Prince of Cups (Villainess Book 2)

by Melos,Alana

  “It’s too bad you’re resisting arrest,” the cop said, but I barely registered his words. This was it. This was how I died. It wasn’t some big fight against overwhelming odds. It wasn’t some dramatic explosion. I died in a dirty alley at the hands of a vengeful cop.

  He grabbed my aching jaw and centered me on him again, so I couldn’t help but to look at him. My brain was so fried at the moment, I couldn’t have used my telepathy even if I could get through his psychic defenses. If I lived through this, I would remember to smash helmets first, but it was looking like a pretty big if.

  “They never did anything to you,” he said, his gloved fingers tracing around the burn marks on my jaw. “You could have just taken it and gone.” Grief cracked his voice. If I had been a normal person, I would have felt sympathy for him. Of course, if I had been normal, I wouldn’t have killed his family in the first place. “They weren’t metas. They weren’t anything… why? Why did you do it?”

  I opened my mouth but nothing came out. Everything hurt. The numbness from the tasering was wearing off, leaving behind aching agony in its wake. My vision swam, and I found it increasingly difficult to focus on his face. He knew it, and slapped me, hard. That helped me to focus a little, but I still couldn’t force words out. It was hard enough to just breathe. Instead of doing the smart thing and killing me, he kept talking.

  “People like you are what’s wrong with this world,” he said, tracing the burns along my jaw with a gloved finger. “I’m going to make sure you can’t hurt anyone else’s family ever again.” As he studied me, I got the sense he was looking into my deep blue eyes, looking for something… maybe a sign of remorse? Fear?

  Fuck that. I wasn’t going to give it to him. If this was it… if this was how I died… I’d do it my way.

  I worked my jaw slowly, and started to clear my throat. He tensed, waiting for whatever revelatory words I was going to speak. Instead of talking, I spat in his face and croaked a laugh. The spittle hit his visor and began to slide off as he recoiled. I couldn’t see anything more than his jaw and lips because of his Judge Dredd-esque helmet, but I could read the surprise and distaste as his mouth twisted.

  “Why?” I croaked. “They were there.”

  He raised his hand back, and I tensed, looking in myself for the last of my reserves. My head hurt too badly for much; the most I was able to do was push him back with a small wave of telekinesis. That was all, and it wasn’t enough.

  No one was more surprised than me when he halted his fist in mid strike. Blood sprayed over my face, and his jaw split in two. The brutal edge of metal shoved through the broken pieces of his face, twisted, and jerked out again roughly, sending bone, gore, and teeth flying. The carnage sprayed over me as the body fell to the side, and a new, cold body took its place.

  Nosferatu.

  Chapter Two

  The fallout from that last job was never ending… but at least this time it worked out in my favor. A massive guy crouched over me, not quite touching, his skin pale as sun bleached bone. His knees bent at an unnatural angle and the vampire held his rusty, serrated sword over his knees, the edge of it cutting into the flesh of his unclothed stomach. If he felt it, he gave no sign. I didn’t even know if he could feel pain, but if he did, I knew he got off on it. His face was broad and ugly in almost every sense of the word, and his eyes glowed with a dull red light. He crouched further down, the leather of his vest brushing against mine with the softest of whispers. When our noses were almost touching, he began licking my face.

  Nosferatu was a partner of mine from time to time. During the last job, I’d made the questionable mistake of letting him bite me. Since then, his human half told me he could find me anywhere… and sure enough, I’d sense his presence outside some of my safe houses. He hadn’t come close to the pad itself, yet. He’d just stay somewhere nearby in the shadows, watching and waiting. I admit when I sensed him around I flaunted myself, letting him see bare bits of skin oh so accidentally as I moved around my various homes. I couldn’t help but to flirt with danger; it was in my nature.

  His tongue licked the drops of blood off of my cheek, rasping slightly as if it were a dried out piece of leather. The numbness had faded enough so I could feel it on my skin. The intimate action of his tongue running along my face turned the pain to a perverse pleasure, the sexual current which ran between us flicking on. He completed his first lick and smacked his lips together. He licked again, his tongue more lubricated now so it was like a cat’s tongue more than sandpaper, a rough sort of velvetyness which continued to arouse me. He licked a wide swath of blood from my second cheek and my heart began to pound now as it hadn’t when the cop had me pinned. I wanted him. Even in the midst of the aches and pains, suffering from defeat, I wanted him. Everything else was forgotten in an instant. I desired this creature, and I think… I think if he would have taken me then and there, I would have just submitted.

  Instead, he continued to lick my face, tracing the curve of my lips with the tip of his tongue, wiping the thick, cooling liquid from my face in the most intimate of ways imaginable. No part was left untouched; even my eyelids were licked, erasing every bit of the cop’s blood from me. My chest heaved, and my breath came faster, anticipating his next move. Yet when he was done, he rocked back on his heels and watched me, an inscrutable expression on his face. The hair of his black mohawk waved slightly in the wind, but that was the only movement from him. He didn’t blink. He didn’t shift. He didn’t even breathe.

  “Nos,” I whispered.

  The vampire licked his lips, as if tasting the cop… or maybe me… as an afterthought. His head cocked first to the right, then the left, and I could sense from him--his mind wasn’t barred from my telepathy after all--that he was deciding what to do next. I never knew how aware he was of my presence, so I didn’t delve too deeply… just enough to get a sense of what he was feeling, unless we were working a job. As it was, I knew he could sense my desire, my want of him. His lips twisted cruelly, but still he sat there, not moving, nor speaking. I knew he wasn’t going to hurt me yet, that he wanted me as much as I wanted him, but more… he wanted me to give myself to him, and that was not going to happen in the way he wanted it.

  “You can let me up now,” I said, my voice growing in strength. I didn’t stress any word, nor put any inflection in my voice. The words were as dead and cold as the corpse on top of me.

  I could see he still hadn’t decided what to do next; there were too many things he wanted to do and he didn’t know where to start. I smiled and waited, and finally, he eased off of me, licking his lips. I sat up slowly, not showing any weakness to him, which was laughable. He’d seen me now at my worst, my weakest. How that changed his opinion of me I was almost afraid to see. We stared at each other, shrouded in dead silence. I could hear the harshness of my breath over the dim sounds of traffic as we stared each other down. Just when I was about to open my mouth and break the silence, he turned violently and grabbed the dead cop. Yanking the body to him, he embraced it as a lover would and turned the neck so hard the spine broke. The head lolled at a bizarre angle. Nos’s dark red eyes bored into my blue ones as he opened his mouth wide, showing a mouthful of yellowed, jagged teeth and bit down hard on the corpse’s neck. Instead of biting and sucking like vampires did in the movies, he ripped a chunk of flesh out and chewed it noisily. Once he swallowed that, then he bent to drink the sluggish blood which welled within the wound.

  I’d never seen him feed up close and personal before. Since he was drinking from a dead man, he wasn’t really getting much blood; the heart wasn’t pumping. He was feeding like this as a display. I had no idea if this was his idea of a romantic gesture or he was merely showing me what he was in full. When the vampire bent again, he bit off another huge chunk of flesh, cracking the collarbone this time with a loud sickening snap. Savagely he tugged on the bone with his teeth, worrying it back and forth as a dog might until he was able to pull a segment of it out. He grabbed it for a moment, and sucked at
the marrow, then cast the remaining shards away so he could feast on the blood and flesh once more.

  I didn’t thank him. That would be admitting weakness. I didn’t know what else to say, so I sat there and let the tasering wear off. The aches began to fade with time as well, and I kept up a small mental lock on the area, warding people off from the alley so we wouldn’t be disturbed. My mind stretched out to him, and my lips parted in the reflected pleasure he took in his feed. It would have been better when the cop was alive, but even so… he existed for food, for consumption. He delighted in the sound of tearing flesh, and the taste of warm blood running down his throat. Nosferatu ate a large portion of the man’s neck and into his chest before he finally seemed sated and dropped the body where it was as he stood. When he stood, I did as well, not dropping my gaze for a second. As I watched, the shadows gathered around him, gaining weight and dripping darkness over him until he faded from view. His darkness trick didn’t cloak him from my telepathy though, and I knew he was still around. Very close.

  I heard the rasp of his harsh breath behind me, blowing cold air upon my neck. I kept my telepathy open wide to sense his intentions as early as I could. Was he going to attack? Was he back to watching? Desire and sated bloodlust, these I read easily. The thoughts behind it were harder to discern though. If he wanted to fuck, why didn’t he just grab me and try to take me? Rape wasn’t anything new to him, not that it would be with me. He took what he wanted. The littlest bit of niggling doubt wormed into my head as I caught fragments of his thoughts. Nos knew I was aroused, knew I wanted him. I pushed into his mind bit by bit, his thoughts coming clear as the veil between us lifted. He approved of me watching him eat without blinking an eye, and as a reward he was leaving me unmolested this evening… because I was his pet. I forced myself to just stand there as he inhaled my scent once more, my hair shifting slightly in the darkness as he moved my braid aside and wrapped the few tendrils which were free around his clawed fingers. I was not going to give him the indignant reaction he was expecting, knowing I was reading his mind.

  Sssso… very good…. he thought, and I could mentally see his lips quirk in dry amusement. Either way, I lost in this game: either he provoked me to outrage, or I stood and took the humiliation. My face burned. He had resc… sav… helped me, and I was forced to sit by and just take it.

  I was better than that. I should have been better than that.

  A stupid cop shouldn’t have bested me.

  Cold, dead fingers caressed my cheek from behind, and I startled, not expecting him to actually touch me. With delicious slowness, he drew his taloned fingernails across my cheek, just shy of actually scratching the skin, and I wanted more. I would have asked for more had my pride not been wounded. A few seconds later, he vanished. I sensed him no longer in my immediate area, and my whole body relaxed. My emotions seesawed back and forth between anger, wounded pride, and lust, so I recentered myself. I had to get paid. The mark was dead, and I needed the cash. I picked up my broken mask and my sword. Using my phone, I took a picture of the dead accountant, and texted it to the contact. When I checked my account balance, the money had been sent. Nothing left to do here, I flew to one of my many homes.

  When I got home, I threw my mask across the room. The already damaged mask broke further as it smashed into the wall. I paced back and forth, unable to work off the steam from the night’s activities. Caged, restless, I calmed myself as much as I could to think the problem through. It wasn’t just the crappy jobs I’d been forced to take, nor even the humiliation of having Nosferatu help me, but rather the fact I needed backup. I had to have it. No villain worked alone for too long, unless they were like Nosferatu and didn’t care if they lived or died. I cared very much. I had a plan, and it had suffered some serious setbacks. I wanted to have a secure base of operations first, and resources on hand. I wanted to change the world, to mold at least part of it in my own image… but now, I knew I couldn’t do it alone.

  My first thought for a partner went to Nosferatu, of course. We’d worked together before, many times, and he was good in a fight, but he wasn’t motivated by anything other than bloodlust. I lusted in much the same manner he did, but that was a diversion, not the goal. I hadn’t gotten along too well with other supervillains. They all wanted to be top dog, and, well, so did I. I had to find someone who was powerful, but didn’t want to be leader, who didn’t want the same things I did. I snapped my fingers when a name from my mother’s stories swum up from my subconscious: Regulus.

  Regulus’ real name was Gerard Fürst, and he was a telepath and telekinetic like myself. He’d worked with my parents in the bad old days, and mother had said if I ever needed something, I could call on him, but only as a last resort. He was reliable, in his own way, and kept a low profile. He had to. He was from Axis Earth.

  Axis Earth, or just Axis for short, was an alternate dimension. Due to the advanced science and tech we had available to us, the interdimensional barrier had been busted wide open ages ago. The tech was regulated carefully, but no matter how hard the government and cops tried, they couldn’t keep out the I. D. travelers. It was impossible. If the same tech was in that other dimension, well, they could open a portal to our world any time, any place they wanted. Mad scientists were constantly going rogue and escaping into other dimensions, bringing back dinosaurs, cyborgs, and freaks of nature of all types. As you could guess from the name of the dimension, Axis was an alternate dimension where the Axis powers from World War II had won.

  The three major powers there, Germany, Italy, and Japan, had an uneasy alliance with each other as they’d carved up their world between them. Regulus was from the Nazi faction, simply known as the Reich, having escaped into our dimension years ago. He stayed on the run because they did have the I. D. tech, and as far as I knew were still looking for him. He was powerful, he was twisted, and he had no interest in maintaining a high profile or taking over. He would be the perfect place to start, especially since he’d been in the meta game for a long time. It’d be like taking on a mentor. The only problem was that he was deep in hiding and I had no idea how to find him.

  My first option here was to turn the master of finding hidden things: Alistair. Alistair was a mage who worked in between the lines of good and evil, walking between white and black hats to find his own path. I respected that. He normally kept daytime business hours, and as it was getting pretty late in the evening, I decided to call it a night for now. I took a shower, cared for my burns, wrapped my chest tight to take care of my cracked rib, damned that fucking cop one more time, and hit the sack.

  The next morning, I looked myself over in the mirror mournfully. That fucking cop had scorched my skin along both sides of my jaw where he’d held my head still. The skin around it was red, but not infected, so that was a good sign. I’d normally go to the Doctor to get that fixed, but as I wasn’t certain how long I had left on his good graces, I decided to go against it. I could find a lesser flesh hack around or a healer. The flesh hacks usually didn’t take credit--that’s why being in the Doctor’s good graces was so important; he knew he’d get his money one way or another… eventually--and a healer would be affordable, but leave scars. I kept running my fingers around the edges of the wounds, wanting them to just vanish. Alas, I couldn’t make it happen by willing it so and the longer I let them sit, the greater the chance for infection. I made a few calls and managed to find a healer who was willing to work relatively cheap.

  Since I was going over to Alistair’s and I didn’t really have any extra cash to pay him, I prepared myself for an alternate form of payment. Instead of my normal casual outfits, I dressed in something resembling a cheerleader from a wet dream: short pleated skirt, a cut-off shirt which bared my midriff, and sneakers with long socks. It was maybe a low blow to fuck what I wanted out of him, but it would work. I grabbed a duffle bag to bring my sword, cash, and other things I might need along with me, including a change of clothes and a mask, in case I had to work and didn’t have time to get
back to one of my houses. I hit up the healer’s place first, and she did pretty good work for only a grand. Scars were there, but they weren’t as bad as I’d feared they would be. I could deal with it for now until I could get it fixed. I could breathe deep again as she’d mended the rib. As a bonus, she even got rid of the rest of the bumps and bruises from the night before, so I was more or less ready to go.

  Next stop was Alistair’s. His brownstone stood in a bad part of town, but no one ever messed with him. The place itself had a dark aura around it which even I found creepy. Who knew what he had here woven in for protection? It wasn’t a smart move to fuck with a mage on his home turf. As I landed, I ran my fingers through my blonde hair, fluffing out the locks a little, then down to brush my bare stomach. The black and red cheerleader’s outfit was cute, something I called my “High School Killing Squad” look, and it was sure to get a reaction from him.

  I knocked on the door and waited. When he answered, I tilted my head to the side and gave him a smile. “Hey, Alistair.”

  Alistair stood a couple inches taller than me, and he looked down quickly, taking in my outfit with a single glance. His brows raised and I could see eagerness enter his eyes. Mages might be powerful, but from what I gathered it was a lonely life, one spent in study without time to really form relationships. Thus, the handsome, dark-haired mage was almost always happy to see me.

  “Caprice,” he said, smiling. “What brings you to my door?”

  “I need a favor,” I said, twirling a bit of hair around a finger. “I need to find someone… it shouldn’t be too hard…” Unlike you, I let my tone imply.