Each fetish had a room where likeminded folks could meet up and let their imaginations guide them. Necrophiliacs met in the Graveyard. Yes, performers were encouraged to visit rooms and make patrons feel at ease, but the fun went on whether we were in there or not. Maybe he was new and didn’t know.
He didn’t move. Too busy trying to seem non-threatening, but I wasn’t buying it. Something was off.
“What was your name again?” I asked.
He took a step forward and swung open the door to a room. “This room’s free, Willow. I have money.”
“I’m sure someone in Graveyard will be happy about that. Go straight down this hall past the python display, make a left at the exit sign and—”
“Aw, c’mon. Won’t you indulge a fan? Just a little alone time…”
“You can’t even tell me who you are. Why should I be alone with you?” I snapped.
He chuckled. It was a sexy sound that stirred parts lower in my body than fangs. I dropped my guard, walked closer, wanting to smell him. Would I get a whiff of cigarette smoke like with Remi or would he smell sweet like Cindy?
“I can make it worth your time,” he said, lowering his voice, stepping forward.
I’ll bet you can. When offering money hadn’t worked, he’d decided to turn on the charm, seduce me. To a vampire, that was indeed a better strategy.
I started checking him out, noticing broad shoulders in his brown leather jacket, long legs in his jeans. He had to be at least six feet five inches given the angle I looked up to him from my five feet eight inches. His height and build made his spiked dark hair and dark eyes hard to ignore.
I could captivate him, fill my vials with his blood, and go on my merry way since I hadn’t found Remi yet. But something about this stranger made me want to do other things to him too, cross lines I hadn’t even crossed with Remi.
Letting my bloodlust get out of hand was making my sexual lust escalate too. Rapidly. They were dangerously interconnected, especially when it had been awhile for both. Bleeding myself onstage while I was already hungry had not been wise.
Though breathing wasn’t essential to my survival, I took a deep breath anyway because I wanted to inhale his scent, test out his pheromones and see if he’d be as delicious to fuck as he would to eat.
His muskiness tickled my nose hairs, sending invigorating signals to my brain. Mmmm.
During my two years as a vampire, I’d only had sex with my maistre, Maximilian, and the last time had been a looooong time ago. As thorough a lover he was, I’d left him and the clan because he was too damn controlling, narcissistic and selfish. Plus, I’d had other aspirations. Sure, he’d invade my psyche through our blood bond and fuck me from afar, but it wasn’t the same as real penetration. That was something I no longer wanted from him. Didn’t mean I no longer wanted it at all.
Nevertheless, I’d denied the wanton part of my being and been celibate mostly because of two commandments: thou shalt not kill and thou shalt not commit adultery. I was too afraid of killing a human during the throes of passion. Too afraid Max would kill them once he found out. And he’d definitely find out.
Best not to have sex with anyone other than Max anyway since according to vampire rules he was technically my husband. And our marriage went deeper than vows. We’d performed a ritual that transformed me from a simple human to one of his vampire brides. It had formed a permanent bond that made the human line ’til death do us part seem like child’s play.
Surprisingly, even as a vampire I hadn’t been able to part with the morals instilled from my southern Baptist upbringing.
Speaking of morals…
Felt mine declining by the second. Realized how badly I wanted this stranger. How hard it was getting to resist temptation.
“I was kind of looking for a friend,” I said, finding a spot on the floor to look at while I contemplated whether to ditch my plan to chow on Remi and put this stud on the menu instead.
He’d touched the side of my face with his wide, warm palm before I saw it coming.
“Look at me. I want to see your eyes, Willow,” he said. He wasn’t even nervous. His heart beat calmly, steadily.
Confidence was sexy as hell. I wanted him in every way. So it took everything in me to withhold my fangs. They were itching to break through. Itching to close the distance between us, reach up, and sink into his neck.
He had no idea who he was dealing with, but fine. I’d look at him since he’d asked for it.
As soon as I did, he raised his other hand and sprayed my eyes with a substance that burned instantly. He moved the hand already on the side of my face to my chin and squeezed it tight, holding it in place. I screamed and tried to move away. He kept spraying. I was stronger than any human, but whatever he’d sprayed was affecting my speed, my strength.
I finally stopped trying to back away and slammed my forehead into his nose. Blood gushed. He stumbled backwards in shock, grabbing his wounded face.
The sad part was that I’d been so weak moments before that I would have gladly given myself to him. Given myself over to the immorality I usually fought so hard against. Now it was a matter of principle. He hadn’t asked nicely. Asking for some private time was not the same as “Hey, Willow, can I have some pussy?” He’d come to Hades thinking we were all whores and he’d abuse one of us into giving him what he wanted.
He’d picked the wrong fucking performer from the wrong fucking fetish.
I didn’t wait for him to recover. Licking at his drop of blood that had splashed near my mouth, I turned to run in the opposite direction.
If my eyes weren’t burning so much, I would have stuck around to fight, to feed. I’d have shown him I was a predator, not prey. But he was quick, or at least, his legs were longer than mine and he’d stuck one out and tripped me as I retreated. He was down on top of me immediately.
For a moment, I’d hoped he was going to pull my sweatpants down and shove himself inside. Give it to me hard. Hot. Horny. But there was nothing sexual about his attack.
Damn. I needed sex and I needed blood and I loved the smell of his running down his face…
But he was obviously more interested in murder than rape. Too bad. ’Cause unless he knew I was a vampire, killing me wasn’t going to happen any ol’ kinda way.
Just as I was counting my chickens before they hatched, he slapped a heavy handcuff across my wrist and attempted to lock the other around my other wrist. I couldn’t break free of the shackle because it was silver, which was synonymous with poison for a vampire. Like kryptonite for Superman. It immediately started burning my skin. I screamed again. I was tired of being burned, but I wasn’t the type to give up. We tussled until I kneed his groin with all the strength I could muster, so hard he could taste the sole of my shoe.
He bellowed in pain and loosened his grip.
Hope he didn’t want kids. That would teach him to fuck with me.
I was pissed! Pissed that he’d interrupted my dinner plans. Pissed that he’d tried to kill instead of fuck me. Pissed that he’d sprayed my eyes with that god-awful substance and almost completely handcuffed me with silver.
Damn necrophiliacs!
I’d get retribution though.
My fangs extended to full length, my eyes changed to glowing red, and I leaned down to take a chunk out of his motherfucking neck when Cindy yelled, “Wiiiillooow!” from down the hall.
Chapter 3
Oh, no.
I had no idea how much Cindy had seen. She was my friend but certainly not close enough to know I was a vampire. No one was, except Saybree the witch, and I wanted to keep it that way. My survival depended on it.
If I could help it, Saybree wouldn’t know either. But there was no way around that and I trusted her. She was an outspoken human with supernatural powers and therefore, with enemies of her own. As my psycho-spiritual counselor for years, she had tried to cure my narcolepsy with magic potions and spells. When that hadn’t worked, she introduced me to Max because she thought va
mpirism would cure me. Vampires didn’t get human illnesses and diseases, after all.
She’d been wrong, but I’d never regretted being a vampire, just being bonded to Max.
Growling like a mad dog because I was, I decided to proceed with ripping my attacker to shreds regardless of who was watching. The rational side of my brain had been swallowed by the instinctual, base side. I no longer cared who witnessed my ravenous desire, my incarnate evil. Cindy could go eat a dick if she had a problem with it…
Suddenly, I started feeling funny, like I was going to have another sleep attack. Oh, Fuck! Bad timing! But if I could control when I fell asleep, it wouldn’t be a disorder, now would it? Then it didn’t matter anymore because I passed out in to a deep sleep.
When I awakened, I realized I’d been moved, which meant I must have slept longer than a few minutes. Uh oh…
I panicked. Started feeling around. Decided I lay on a bed, no, a couch. Looking around, I discovered my surroundings were pitch black. Had the spray damaged my eyes or was I really in a pitch black room? I got still and listened, smelled. There was sweet cinnamon and…and sulfur.
“She’s waking up,” Franco said. “Willow, are you okay?”
Fuck. I could usually see well in the dark and I hadn’t seen Franco. Sure hoped the damage to my eyes wasn’t permanent.
Having the ability to heal quickly from injuries was a wonderful vampire characteristic, but we weren’t entirely invincible, not entirely immortal. Silver, holy water and garlic were all harmful. Sunlight, fire and decapitation were fatal. Stakes were bad, but not in the mythological sense. Wooden ones hurt like hell. Silver ones were nearly paralyzing, which gave the wielder enough time to light a match or open a curtain or swing a fucking machete at our necks.
So I ran through the list: Able to move my head? Check. It was still attached. Not burning to a crisp and turning to ash? Check. Sunlight and fire weren’t an issue. Not paralyzed or bleeding from a gaping hole in my chest? Check. I hadn’t been staked.
Nope. Just my eyes were out of commission. A temporary, fixable problem. I hoped.
“I can’t see, Franco.” I said.
“That’s ’cause your eyes are closed.”
That seemed reasonable so I tried opening my eyes. They were stuck, maybe glued shut.
Shit! That studly bastard had blinded me! “I can’t open my eyes!”
I felt more than heard Cindy sigh. “I’ll go get a wet cloth. Maybe we can wash that stuff off,” she said.
Good idea. Glad she was being helpful, but she sounded disturbed, tense.
She had seen me changing into my monstrous self. Not good. What would she do? Who would she tell? Would she turn me in and pocket the reward money? Our friendship was about to be tested.
The evening was getting worse.
“Cin?” I started though I wasn’t sure what I’d say. Felt it was worth a try.
There was movement then silence.
“She’s gone.” Franco said. He was close enough for me to feel his warm breath on my face. “Probably for the best. She seems frightened. We have lots of security but sometimes things happen. I do my best to keep you girls safe, but…”
“It’s okay, Franco. It’s not your fault. My death scene brought out all the crazy in my fans.” I laughed. Might as well joke about it.
Laughing turned to coughing, which was odd. I hadn’t coughed since I’d become a vampire. What the hell had he sprayed?!
When I brought my hand up to cover my mouth, I remembered how my wrist had burned and instinctively rubbed it. My skin was normal, smooth like a baby’s butt.
“Your wrist has already healed,” he said in a low voice.
I froze.
This was the first injury I’d had around my colleagues that I couldn’t pretend wasn’t real. Franco had seen how fast it healed. Humans didn’t heal from burns that quickly. And they didn’t burn from silver handcuffs.
The Human Preservation Act (HPA) had made vampirism illegal which meant harboring, marrying, and employing us was illegal too. Would he fire me? I sure hoped not. I loved my job. It was the one place I could combine my love of performing with my nocturnal wiring and newfound sexual allure. Strangely, I also felt safe here amongst other non-conformists. I’d always been peculiar and it didn’t stand out at Hades.
“Franco…” I began.
“We’ll talk later,” he whispered.
I smelled cinnamon a second later. Cindy was coming back.
Before she was in the room good, Franco did something surprising. He wrapped and tied soft material around my wrist to hide the fact I’d healed so quickly. But why would he help me?
When a lukewarm washcloth was applied to my eyes, he gently rubbed in long strokes from inside out then in circular motions. Cleansing me of impurities. Nurturing me like a sick child. In fact, he had always handled me that way.
Never could put my finger on what made Franco tick. He was entirely too comfortable around perverts yet he appeared normal, asexual in fact.
Okay, maybe that wasn’t normal.
To own and run a successful fetish club, there had to be something dark deep inside him I just hadn’t seen yet. The fact that he was the only human I hadn’t been able to captivate made me think he wasn’t human at all. He didn’t smell wild and beastly the way others did, so I’d ruled out were-animal. And I had disregarded the rumors that he was a sex demon. Had always thought people were joking. Now I considered its validity.
Oh, well. As long as he let me keep my job, he could be the devil himself and I’d find a way to deal with it.
Since supernaturals were wisely cautious these days, I’d probably never find out anyway. They were too afraid humans would band against them and pass anti-were or anti-goblin or anti-whatever laws. Humans had already proven themselves to be crafty and highly motivated and they outnumbered the supernatural community by far. Just look what happened to us. As powerful as we were, we’d been hunted to near-extinction because humans had discovered and used our weaknesses against us. Public supernaturals were forced into hiding and closeted ones were forced to remain that way.
“What happened to the guy who attacked me?” I asked.
It was club policy to call HPD, but I really didn’t want any more trouble, no more attention. Police reports and investigations were not welcomed to anyone who had secrets.
“After we beat the shit out of him, we dumped him on his ass and told him never to come back. I had to fire Don for taking a hundred bucks and letting him in without a membership.”
Franco had surprised me again, went against his own rules. It could come back to bite him, especially if I wanted to press charges against my assailant. The assistant district attorney would ask for the nonexistent police report and wonder why Franco had let him go. But Franco knew I’d want things handled quietly more than anything, didn’t he.
He rubbed the cloth over my eyes a few more times then removed it.
I slowly opened my hazels one at a time.
His serious dark brown eyes were focused on mine. His dark hair was gelled back in a long ponytail with one stray lock over his forehead. A strong dimpled chin and high cheekbones gave his face a dashingly handsome look. And as usual, an indescribable tattoo peeped through the top of his leather shirt, giving him a mysterious, sexy vibe.
I blinked long, thick lashes. Yeah, the warm water had worked.
“Thanks,” I said, hoping he knew I meant for everything. Just in case, I tried once again to capture his gaze, lock him in psychically. I’d love to remove the memory of what he’d discovered about me, even if for just a little while. He just blinked, totally unaffected.
Cindy cleared her throat. My moment with Franco must have looked more intimate than it was. There was no lust, no hunger toward him whatsoever.
Franco rose, said I was to take the rest of the night off and that he’d send Punch to take me home. Before I could protest, he exited. I was left in silence with Cindy’s sweet scent. Not good since I still ha
dn’t fed.
“Are you a vampire?” she asked boldly. Keeping her distance.
“Why would you ask me that? You know me, Cin.”
“I saw your eyes change. You changed. You became something else.”
“I don’t suppose angel ever crossed your mind?” I smirked. Humor was all I had at this point.
“Don’t play with me, Willow. Angels don’t have fangs,” she crossed her arms over her chest indignantly.
So she’d seen the whole shebang and wasn’t backing down. Now what? Arguing that she didn’t know whether angels had fangs seemed petty.
“What do you want me to say, Cin?”
“Tell me the truth. What are you, for God’s sake! You’ve been to my house, watched my daughter…”
I didn’t see how any of that mattered, but apparently it was important to her. “I’m your friend, have been since I started working here.”
“Like hell you are. If you’re a vampire, then I don’t even know you.”
The angrier she became, the more her voice raised. The more pronounced her jugular became. It was jutting, begging to be tasted.
I accidentally bit my lip, tasted my own blood. She had to get herself and her accusations away from me sooner rather than later. Anger made her blood pump faster. Egged me closer to losing control.
If she truly believed I was a vampire, she wasn’t acting like it. Like the Incredible Hulk, she wouldn’t want to make me angry. Surely she’d know being friendly would be more to her advantage since I could easily snap her fucking neck. Turning my head towards the chair cushion, I began counting. Ten, nine, eight, seven…
“You know, I could really use the money.” Her voice lowered, sounded strained, a little shaky. “Did you know they were paying ten thousand dollars now for each tip that leads to a vampire arrest?” she asked.
“Is that so.” I didn’t turn to look at her. She was pushing it and I didn’t trust myself to show restraint.
She was referring to the Vampire Extermination Team, un-affectionately known as VET. HPA ordered execution for all vampires, VET served as the enforcement agency. They hired ex-military, ex-law enforcement, ex-felons, anyone who had the skills to hunt down and kill us. Sometimes they contracted out to private vampire hunting businesses too. It was a dangerous but lucrative industry.
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