I put my heartsick sorority sister out of my mind and shuffled off my bed. I smoothed the hem of my thick cable knit sweater around my hips and checked that my tank top was in place under the low-draped neckline.
“Let’s go,” I told Amy. “They’re already waiting.”
Our weekly meeting with our queen and her seven vampire sisters was a certain kind of torture a small part of me yearned for. Dalhem, my father, had selected six of his most treasured demon children to patiently nurture future generations of willing human feeders. The blood my sorority sisters, the boys of Omega Beta Alpha fraternity, and I provided kept the rest of mankind safe from what could have devolved into hordes of lecherous vampires. The night dwellers had been brought to the earthly plane between heaven and hell by my father and true protector, and his hell-spawned brothers and sisters. It was an honor for me to serve them.
The original six sister-queens of his Alpha nest had entered my life nearly four years ago. I had been bound to the former queen, Camila, three weeks into my freshman year at MU. She respected my wishes and never took our feedings beyond anything but a simple drawing of blood, and I loved her for that graceful show of love and appreciation.
The other sister-queens all cared for me, and I loved them all equally in return. Faeth, a proud farmer’s daughter from New Zealand; Omi, a survivor of the Bajan sugar trade; Natasha, the czarina of the last Russian imperial reign; Tokyo, a reborn indentured servant and lover of all things leather; and Dalhem’s eldest demon child, Kina, a Mi’kmaq Native American from the north. All were examples of what us girls of Alpha Beta Omega could someday be.
But it was the seventh sister who meant the most to me. My ex-girlfriend, my ex-mistress, the former love of my life.
I saw Cleo around the house plenty of times during the week, here and there on the weekends. Cleo joined the nest only a week before Ginger was turned. Ginger was married to Camila; Cleo was Camila’s best friend. Best friends of lovers, lovers of best friends. It was impossible to avoid her. Running into Cleo in Ginger and Camila’s apartment or in the hall was one thing, but during our weekly meetings, sitting across the room from my ex for over an hour was almost unbearable. Almost.
Everyone who had the nerve to ask me always wanted to know the same thing. Why would I put myself through the torture of being in the same room with the only person I had ever loved and now the one person who truly hated me?
There was no reasonable answer. The feelings I had for Cleo couldn’t be met with logic. We were broken up and had been since the day after Cleo died. It was over, but I only had a few months left to savor the pain of being in Cleo’s presence. After I walked across the graduation stage, there was a chance I would never see Cleo again. I knew if Cleo had things her way, that would definitely be the case.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can go down alone,” Amy offered. The new girls had no real idea what was going on between Cleo and me, but the seniors knew. Amy knew.
I grabbed my leather-bound portfolio off my mahogany desk and opened the door.
“Let’s go.”
Amy kept quiet until we were inside the house elevator. The lift was hidden in the pantry and was the only access point to the sister-queens’ quarters from above ground. The ability to vanish through walls made fire exits unnecessary for the immortal beings who lived below the colonial mansion at 1444 Milson Avenue. I punched the code into the keypad on the wall, and the elevator began its smooth descent.
“You know what I want?” Amy said as she cocked her hip against the wall. “I want to be there when you go mental. When your repressed feelings force you to just snap and flip out on your boss or when you climb that clock tower and just start picking off poor, defenseless people. I want to see that.”
I had gone through all the stages of grief and cycled to jilted and bitter in a little under two days after Cleo dumped me. I’d been sitting in that particular spot ever since. I was hurt. I could admit that to myself. Sometimes I was angry and even jealous, but I would never lose control. No one was worth making stupid decisions over.
“We both know that won’t happen.”
“You still talk to Ginger, right?”
Ginger and I talked about a lot of things, but never my real feelings. That was why Ginger and I got along so well. She knew not to push. She understood that sometimes talking about your pain did absolutely nothing to ease it.
The elevator door slid open.
“I’m going to talk to her tonight,” I said.
“Good.”
I took a left and continued down the dark corridor, loving the feeling of the cool marble under my bare feet. The black walls were bare, lit every few yards by dim light fixtures hidden in the crown molding. This floor of the house was a virtual maze for unwanted visitors, but I had always felt at home in the rooms behind these black walls. Most of them, anyway.
We turned the last corner to the sister-queens’ quarters. Our demon keepers took turns hosting the weekly meetings they held with us. Omi’s apartment was the favorite. She had altered the lighting and furnishings in her quarters to give the effect of being at a beach resort. I didn’t care where we met, but for me, anything was better than the apartment Cleo shared with the sister-queen Tokyo.
Tonight, we were meeting in Kina’s rustic setup. The log cabin motif was warm and comforting, highlighting Kina’s longing for a life in the wilderness. Tokyo’s place was a den of pleasure. No couches or chairs, just large pillows and comfortable mats surrounded the television. I had never entered her bedroom, but I’d imagined it. I’d envisioned Cleo beyond the black bedroom door, shackling Tokyo to the wide bed they shared. The two had been close friends and lovers since Cleo and I had parted ways. I remained on good terms with Tokyo. She had nothing to do with our breakup and she was always kind to me.
I fought the twitch that gripped my cheek as the image of the two of them together came into clear focus in my mind. Cleo’s feeders couldn’t help the attraction they felt for her. It was part of the bond. The connection brought demon and feeder together in a deep, caring relationship built on sacrifice and devotion. The vampire’s bite carried with it an instant, amazingly intense orgasm that even I couldn’t withstand.
The difference was I knew how to keep my physical passions under control, the strong emotions I felt for Camila, even if they were fleeting. And I never acted on them. I couldn’t blame Laura or Melanie for the way they felt about Cleo. I couldn’t blame Andrew, the only male who was under Cleo’s protection, for openly admitting to how much he lusted for her.
Cleo was a master shifter. I had overheard, hundreds of times, how Cleo could make her body bend and stretch in the middle of sex. She could even alter her anatomy at the flicker of an eyelash. That was how Andrew liked her best. Her clit would grow to a nine-inch length and she would take him from behind.
Tokyo liked her that way too. She and Cleo were both demons, so their closeness had nothing to do with a blood bond. Tokyo liked sleeping with Cleo, plain and simple.
That, I hated.
I took a deep breath and subtly stretched my neck before knocking on Kina’s door.
“I’m telling you. Clock tower. Short scope. Long rifle,” Amy whispered beside me.
“Amy. Shut up.”
The door opened with a light click and opened wider at Ginger’s will. Amy and I were almost the last to arrive. Amy called out a cheerful hello.
Cleo was there, sitting across the room, beautiful and perfect as always. Her skin was like warm milk chocolate, her perfect lips plump and full. Years ago, the change had caused her afro to grow so long, so quickly that her ebony locks began to spiral. They were secured away from her face by a red ribbon that Cleo had always worn. Her legs were spread wide and Tokyo was lounging between her knees facing Cleo’s lap.
Tokyo turned quickly. “Hey, guys,” she said before turning back to Cleo. Or more importantly, Cleo’s crotch. Her long cock was hard against her thigh, held tightly in place by the leather pants she
’d taken from Tokyo’s wardrobe. I hated how good she looked in those pants.
I hated the white wifebeater Cleo wore too. I knew a burlap sack wouldn’t dull Cleo’s amazing features and her erotic curves, but it would do something to cover up the seams of the red pushup bra that were peeking out from under the white cotton. I missed those breasts.
Cleo didn’t look up from Tokyo to greet me or Amy. She watched Tokyo with a blank expression, letting her trace small circles across her knee.
“I have to feed first, but let’s go to Tens,” I heard Tokyo say. Another night at the strip club was just what they both needed.
Cleo didn’t respond. I knew Cleo treated Tokyo well, as she did all the other girls, but both Cleo and I had the same walls up around our hearts and our true personalities. Once, I had the power to breach Cleo’s well-constructed façade of confidence, but Cleo hadn’t let anyone in since the accident.
I had no control over the way my body reacted to Cleo’s indifference. My skin grew hot and the moisture flowed between my legs whenever I was near Cleo, and now was no different. I swallowed before taking a deep breath. It had taken some practice, but now I was able to keep my lips from parting whenever I caught Cleo’s cherry blossom scent. Most humans didn’t recognize a demon’s scent for what it was, but I did, and Cleo’s scent permeated the room.
Amy gently tugged on my pinkie. I ignored the gesture, but I appreciated the support. A familiar, powerful, masculine voice came from Kina’s art studio, and the baritone sound was enough to put a stop to my arousal.
My legal father, the only full demon in this part of the world, stepped into the living room. The sister-queen Kina was a step behind him. I was used to his black wings that protruded from the smooth fabric of his gray suit. When he was comfortable, the scaled feathers would extend from his back as they did now. A man’s fingers were in place instead of his natural talons. His onyx horns blended naturally into the copper-brown skin of his forehead. His white hair was shaved close to his head now. Mama liked it better that way.
“Daddy?”
“Ah. It is my Benita. Hello, my darling princess.” Daddy crossed the room in two easy strides and took me in his long arms. My mood instantly lifted as he kissed me on the forehead. He was deadlier than he appeared and one of the most gentle, caring beings I had ever encountered.
Beside me, Amy stared in wide-eyed shock. Daddy knew exactly who she was and who she fed, but none of my other sorority sisters had seen him before.
He reached out and gently chucked Amy’s chin with his large knuckle. “Hello, my child.”
Amy’s jaw flapped before she answered. “Sir.”
Daddy’s golden eyes shone as he smiled at her.
“What are you doing here?” I asked him.
“I have dropped in to check on my queens. The truth lies in the element of surprise.” He winked. “I will leave you to your meeting now.” He leaned down close to my ear. His strength was undeniable, but I could hear the humor in his tone. “Young lady, call your mama.” I laughed at his perfect impression of my mother’s Southern drawl. The smile was back in his voice as he went on. “She is lonely for you.”
“I will.”
Daddy turned with a graceful nod of the head in Ginger’s direction. She returned the acknowledgment with a curtsy and a giggle touched with sarcasm. Anyone else would have found it disrespectful, but Daddy loved Ginger. She got away with more.
His golden eyes flashed briefly as they connected with Cleo’s light brown stare. No one missed his anger as he vanished from the room. As his essence dissipated from the air completely, Cleo still refused to look at me.
“That’s your dad?” Amy gasped.
Natasha appeared before I answered. “I have missed our master?” Her white-blond hair swayed as she slid to the floor beside the coffee table.
“Yeah,” Ginger replied. “And yeah, Amy. That’s Benny’s dad.” Ginger crossed the room and took my hand. I followed her to the couch. Camila settled down on my other side and murmured her sweet hello.
“Let’s start. It’s getting late,” Ginger announced.
“Please, a moment.” Natasha held out a rectangular box. “Sweets from my husband.” I resisted taking more than one as the chocolates circulated around the room, and passed the box on to Ginger. I gently bit into the dark square and savored the slightly bitter taste. It was all I could do to ignore the piercing glare that was suddenly focused on my slightest movement.
I opened my calendar, then peeked up long enough to watch Cleo take a piece of the chocolate Rodrick had sent over. Cupping the back of Tokyo’s head, Cleo ran a thumb over her porcelain cheek. I shivered.
“Open up,” I heard Cleo murmur. Tokyo did as she was told, her light pink lips parting easily, exposing her sharp fangs. Cleo slid the chocolate into her mouth and let Tokyo suck her index finger. Cleo waited until the square was gone before she slowly drew her finger out and licked the traces of the candy with her own tongue. I had to look away.
“I want your cock tonight,” Tokyo purred. Her light citrus scent spiked in the air. For a second, it overpowered the other smells in the room, even the dark flavors that lingered on my lips.
“We’ll see if I want to give it to you,” Cleo replied as I glanced their way again.
“But you’re hard.” Tokyo slid her hand across Cleo’s abnormal erection. “I want to take care of that for you.”
My eyes closed for a moment before I turned most of my attention to Ginger beside me. She smiled again, her fangs biting into her lip before she dropped her head onto my shoulder, rubbing my arm to banish the shivers away. I couldn’t stop myself from listening for Cleo’s response. I saw as she wiped Tokyo’s bottom lip.
“I said we’ll see. Don’t ask me again.”
Tokyo would get sex, no matter what. She had her feeders. The sister-queen Faeth, who was always ready to screw, and there was Moreland, the demon across town who let both Tokyo and Cleo have at her stock of slaves and well-trained submissives whenever they wanted. But for some reason, Tokyo seemed to crave Cleo’s attention the most and, just as she had with me, Cleo loved making her work for it.
Cleo glanced up and we looked at each other. This was part of the pain, the part I actually looked forward to because something in my brain was broken. These fleeting moments where Cleo and I would pause to ignore everything around us and do a quick mental undressing with our eyes. I would remember everything we had been to each other, the way her fingers felt across my lips, and every sinful command she gave me.
I could see it in her eyes, in those few heated moments, that she remembered the afternoons in my dorm room freshman year. How she learned to command me and felt her own delight in how easily I would obey. In those moments, she took stock of every inch of my body, the bits of skin she liked the most—my blue eyes, my breasts with their overly sensitive nipples, and most definitely my butt—and like that, her eyes would turn cold. She glared at me, but now we weren’t alone. I felt Ginger tense beside me as she lifted her head and Camila, on the other side, reached for my hand. They had chosen my side from the very beginning, but that didn’t change the way Cleo felt. She told me with that single stare, she still fucking hated me.
To Cleo, I was overconfident and a bitch. Both points I agreed with. Cleo almost died two days after Thanksgiving. Her body was badly damaged in a car accident on her way back to campus. She was returning early from her parents’ home in Virginia to study in an empty sorority house for her anthropology final and to spend a few uninterrupted hours with me on my knees. To save her the agony of a painful recovery, or death, Camila made the decision to turn Cleo to the vampire she was now. Knowing she was alive and safe, I couldn’t hide my joy in discovering that Cleo was now an immortal. I wanted to share the joy of a blood bond and the ecstasy of feeding with someone I loved, with my girlfriend, my mistress. Not that I didn’t appreciate my bond with Camila, but it wasn’t the same.
I also saw Cleo’s immortality as an escape from
her family. Her mother would never accept Cleo as she was, human or otherwise, because Cleo was gay. Her mother, her church, and her family would have shunned Cleo if they knew the truth, if they knew about us. Cleo had told me early on that I was the one for her. We’d made plans, plans for our future with both of us remaining mortal. There was marriage and a family on our horizon, things we could still have, but once Cleo saw how happy I was, when I made it known that I was glad that fate had intervened and given me Cleo as I had ultimately wanted her, Cleo was done. She hadn’t looked at me with love in her eyes since. Lecherous intent from time to time, glimmers of lust, but never love, and that’s what caused my pain. It was all we had anymore, and I knew I would have to take the steps to let it go.
“All right.” Ginger spoke up. Her voice pulled me back to myself. “Give me the bad news first.”
“Jill’s still having a hard time. I know we thought moving her into the house would make things easier, but the other girls just aren’t taking to her,” Amy told our sister-queens.
“It’s ’cause she’s Canadian and proud of it.” Cleo laughed. She only spoke up because she hated Jill.
“Hey! That’s my little Canadian.” Ginger scowled playfully. “Besides, Kina’s from Canada and we like her just fine.”
“It wasn’t called Canada when I lived there,” Kina muttered from the opposite armchair.
“We’ll spend some time with her,” Camila said.
“I think it’s Benny she wants to spend time with.” Faeth had to say it. The way Jill felt about me was no secret, but Faeth didn’t need to bring it up.
“Between German class and studying with her, she gets enough of my time,” I replied.
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