by Lena Moore
Draven honed his vision in on the pair. He wanted to see the reactions on both of their faces.
Jada’s brow furrowed and she countered, “You. Just. Don’t. Get. It. Jadis could walk around the corner at any moment, and then what? How do you think she would interpret her older sister and her boyfriend together, hmm?”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. C’mon sexy, let’s get in there.” He winked at her. This in turn caused her frown to evaporate into a giggle.
Draven watched the duo walk through the doors of Carnelian’s Boutique. After they disappeared from his sight he removed his cap and wiped his beefy hand down his face and over the stubble on his chin. Fuck. How the hell would he tell Jadis that her supposed to be loyal boyfriend was cheating on her with her older sister?
He called for the check and decided to go for a walk along the Mississippi River. Draven needed to collect his thoughts and dissect what he’d just witnessed.
It was around midday when he grew the balls to finally go and talk to Jadis. He knew it was necessary that she remain calm and composed until he figured out what was going on between her sister and boyfriend. He also knew she would struggle with what he was asking of her. It wasn’t only because she was a feisty little thing; it was because Jadis would be hurt by their deceit. Draven couldn’t help but wonder if the two of them were doing more than just shitting all over their relationship with her.
He stopped at the front of Jadis’s storefront, Mystique Runes. Exhaling a heavy breath before opening the ancient door, he walked in. The bell jingled above his head and trepidation seeped in. Draven was not looking forward to this conversation, not one little bit.
“Hey baby,” came her husky laced voice. “To what do I owe the pleasure of my hunky vampire friend dropping in?” She winked.
Draven’s hand found purchase on the back of his neck as he cupped it tightly.
“Uh oh. What? Tell me,” she hesitated.
Draven stepped toward the counter and looked around the store making sure they were alone. They were.
“I may or may not have something. I’m going to need you to promise me you’re not going to explode.” He rushed on. “I saw Jada and Gwent at the front of Carnelian’s Boutique.”
Her face turned red and her jaw ticked. “You fucking what? And you want me to remain—what? Calm! Fuck this shit, Draven!” She started making a beeline for the door, but Draven used his vamp speed and blocked her.
“Move. Out. Of. My. Way. I don’t want to hurt you, Draven,” she seethed.
He held his hands up in front of his chest. “Wait. Listen to what I have to say before you turn the French Quarter upside down, please.”
Jadis took a couple of deep breaths and nodded her head once for him to proceed, but her face remained closed, almost hostile.
“I think we need to be smart about this and wait. Don’t say anything, let me finish, Jadis.” He blew at a stray dreadlock that had fallen in his face. “I want to follow them. I want to find out if they’re pissing all over you and cheating, or whether they’re doing more and siphoning your magic. You know your older scaly sister has always been jealous of you. You have always been stronger than her and you are the only witch in New Orleans who possesses as much vigour in their magic, more than any other witch, warlock or whatever. Let’s not tread on any toes just yet. I’ve also been trying to figure out who owns Midnight Mayhem for a while now, but I’ve had no luck. I think that might help us, too. What do you think?”
Jadis’s arms were crossed tightly across her black studded jacket and her high heeled foot tapped annoyingly for a minute or so before she answered.
“Ok. But I want to be kept in the loop at all times. Understand vampire?”
She always called him vampire when she was seriously pissed. It made him smile. She was going to let him take control and not fuck this up. Draven knew deep down there was more going on at Midnight Mayhem, and he had an inkling it was the same with Jada and Gwent.
“Deal, you feisty minx.” He grinned. “Oh, I have a question; can you do a location spell without any DNA from the party you’re trying to track?”
Her left eyebrow quirked. “Why?”
He really didn’t want to go into the details right now. “It’s nothing, never mind. Don’t worry about it.” He turned to walk out the door but Jadis gripped his forearm. He craned his neck to look at her.
“Tell me why.”
“Fuck. Alright. Let’s move back into the store so we aren’t standing in the doorway.”
They walked back to the counter where Jadis leaned against it with her arms crossed and her eyebrows hiked up, waiting for his explanation.
“You know I need to feed and fuck often, you know, so I don’t enter slasher mode.” She nodded. There wasn’t much that Jadis didn’t already know about him, so he continued.
“Last night I was prowling the quarter like I do most nights, but this time it was different. Actually, the past four nights have been different. My blood feels like its congealing. The pain is as if I haven’t fed for weeks, like I’m being shredded from the inside out sometimes. I can’t explain it. Shit, this isn’t making much sense. I feel something is happening to me, or is about to. Whether is a good thing or a bad thing, I’m not sure yet. Last night this scent faded in and out, leading me on until I found the culprit.” He sighed and locked eyes with Jadis. “I only saw the back of her, but what I saw was stunning. This aroma, Jadis, I’ve never been as attracted or drunk on a scent like this ever. My whole body felt alive, and my cock was like a sledgehammer in my pants just from her scent.”
Jadis laughed and interrupted him. “Your dick is always hard, and that’s why we had so much fun together.”
Draven smirked, “Yes, very true. This was different though. How could she mask her scent, that’s all I kept asking myself. Anyway, I lost the group she was with, and her. Frustrated and in need, I found some willing warm body to feed and fuck, and as I was doing so her scent knocked me for six again. Her black hair, and her ass, damn Jadis, even you would have been impressed. A white girl with an ass like that. Shit, I’m off topic. Anyway. The Goddess Kaltemis showed me her eyes.”
Jadis gasped. “Come again? How do you know it was Kaltemis and not Neferity?” she queried.
“I felt her. It was Kaltemis. There was no malevolence in the presence. Believe me I was as shocked as you are right now. I hadn’t felt her since Cyrus.” The guilt and shame crawled back up, threatening to spew out of his mouth. “I thought she was angry with me. After the shit Neferity pulled and after my slasher sprees.” He winced.
Jadis sidled up to him and rubbed her petite hand along his shoulder. “Hush, you were not in control and that malicious cunt manipulated you at your weakest. You know the Goddess loves all. I believe she would have forgiven you for that by now, especially given the circumstances.”
Draven mulled over what Jadis had said and hoped to the Goddess she was right.
He shrugged and then groaned, “Her eyes, she’s of vampire descent. Bright violet eyes, Jadis. I wonder if she even knows what she is since she’s young. I’m drawn to her like a moth to the flame, and if the Goddess interfered, there has to be reason. I need to find her. So, can you help me? Even without any DNA?”
“I can but you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I’m completely fried, baby. This magic siphoning is killing me. Come first thing tomorrow morning and I’ll perform a ritual. I will need to get inside your head though, so be prepared. It’s painful,” she warned then sighed.
Draven couldn’t help feeling deflated at her reasoning, but understood wholeheartedly. He’d experienced firsthand what she’s been going through.
“Ok, tomorrow morning. After you access my mind, I’ll head back to Midnight Mayhem and see if your sister and boyfriend make another appearance together.” He grimaced at his admission.
Jadis’s forest green eyes looked sad to Draven. What more could he expect? If it turned out to be true then two of the closest people in her life have bee
n playing her for a fool.
Draven hugged her tight and kissed the top of her electric blue hair. “If you need me or want to talk, make sure you call me. There’s a spare room at my place if you don’t want to be alone, or with that fuckknuckle either,” he cursed.
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes when she responded, “Thank you, Drae. I love your blood sucking guts. I’ll let you know later. Alright, piss off now. I need to get some work done.” Jadis rushed him out the door and closed it behind him.
She’d been his best friend through some of the toughest times in his life. And in turn, Draven had been her shoulder through the worst time in hers, like when she lost Samson. Similar to vampires, witches with pure blood lived immortally. He couldn’t deny the fact that it could be a bleak and lonely existence, he knew that first hand. He hated seeing her in a state of despondency; it wasn’t who she was, not at all. And for the first time since he noticed the girl with the raven hair, he thought of someone other than himself.
He thought of Jadis and everything she endured. Draven promised himself that he would make right on his promise to her. That he would find out who was stealing her magic. If he discovered that Jada and Gwent were responsible for her pain, he would find a way to make them disappear. It would be an extreme mistake for them to rip out the heart of the only woman he truly cared about in this realm. And Draven would enjoy making them suffer.
Chapter Five
~ Draven ~
Draven arrived home and knew he’d have a few hours to kill before he went out to feed for the night. Secretly he hoped he’d run into that woman again, but he wasn’t holding his breath. He decided he’d browse through some comics until it was time to head out.
He picked up The Punisher war journal and began reading. About fifteen minutes in, he decided it wasn’t such a wise choice. His mind travelled back to when Cyrus turned. Fuck, he had been out of control. He’d leave the corpses shredded to pieces, barely recognisable. Draven shuddered at that piece of his history and remembered all the shit they’d done together. He was appalled how he acted back then and he wished he could take it back.
When Draven staggered down his fucked up memory lane, he truly viewed himself as the definition of a monster. Still to this day he blamed his mother and her contaminated blood for his temper and blood lust.
Draven was 177 years-old when he’d turned Cyrus. Thinking back, he realised it’d been almost 150 years since he’d seen the Goddess and he prayed that Jadis was correct about Kaltemis forgiving him. What he did for Neferity, for his own personal gain, shit, he would never forgive himself for that. Draven wouldn’t allow himself to take the fact that she’d cheated and manipulated him at one of the darkness time in his life into consideration.
He could still visualise Kaltemis’s face: the look of pain, betrayal and disbelief that he could do what he’d done to her. Then he remembered the way she looked at her sister, Neferity. Hatred, anger and downright spiralling madness. Even Draven almost pissed his pants, she was fucking scary. Light Goddess or not, Kaltemis’s power was vigorous and frightening as hell.
He threw the comic book down on the leather lounge in his sitting area and walked to the kitchen. Draven settled on making some steak and salad before leaving to find a warm body to sink his teeth and dick into. He preferred his steak basically still mooing: blue rare. Quick sear on each side, done.
Draven grabbed a griddle pan and turned the gas element on medium high. While that was heating up, he chopped up some lettuce, tomato, mushrooms, cucumber, onion and cheese then mixed it all together with some olive oil, balsamic vinegar and salt and pepper. Once everything was done, Draven all but annihilated his scotch fillet and salad, stopping just short of licking the plate. He put the dishes in the sink and washed up before changing into a black pair of denim ripped jeans and a black killer-be-killed shirt and headed out.
Draven stopped by a bar, ordered a gentleman Jack clean and surveyed the establishment. People were everywhere, mainly mortals, but Draven sensed a few witches and werewolves. He didn’t have a beef with anyone, unless they pulled something stupid.
He felt stiff, and he was pissed off that it’d been less than twenty fours since he’d fed and dipped his cock into someone. What the fuck is going on with me? I don’t understand any of this shit. Fucking chaos clusterfucking bullshit! he ranted to himself.
Draven wanted to believe the mystery woman was somewhere close, but he doubted that. He would know if she was by her scent floating in the air around him. Plus, his cock would be hitting the wall of his zipper; beseeching and pleading with him to bang her into tomorrow. He smiled at himself because when he finally found her, that’s exactly what he’d do.
Five whiskey’s in and not one woman intrigued him. Draven’s dick was flaccid and bored in his jeans as he rolled his eyes and looked around. He was aware he needed to feed, however no one appealed to him.
He stood up and took one last irritated look around the bar before walking toward the exit. His nostrils flared and he inhaled dramatically. The woman had been close. Draven sensed she was long gone though, fuck.
Stalking toward his lair, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on edge. Someone was following him. Draven increased his speed and zigzagged around the streets until he reached a dark corner. He spun around abruptly.
“Show yourself, demon,” he boomed.
A slinky shadow stepped out of the inky night. “You sensed me, interesting,” the voice slithered.
“And why the fuck is that interesting?”
“Generally, no one can sense me or even see me because I’m a silent demon and not many have the ability to interpret what or who I am, but you did. How is that?”
“What are you talking about? I don’t have time for this bullshit. Either tell me what the fuck you want from me or take your riddles and jam them up your evil tendril ass,” Draven hissed.
The shadow chortled, “You definitely have her blood.”
His body became rigid and cold. “What did you say?”
“Oh, now you want to talk, vampire.”
“Demon, last chance. Tell me why you sought me out. If not then fuck off and leave me alone!” he roared.
“Temper, temper,” the demon jeered. “It’s your mother; she is back in this realm. Beware.”
Draven’s universe capsized. No, no, fuck no! What is she doing back in this realm? Why now after all these years? He closed his eyes and tried to gain control of himself.
When he opened his eyes, he could no longer see the demon. It was gone. His red eye twitched and he was reminded once more what blood ran through his veins. He wanted to vomit and staggered back to his lair. Draven’s body ached from not feeding and the dizziness didn’t help matters.
Once he stumbled into his room, he leaned over the side of the bed and spewed up the steak and whiskey he’d consumed earlier. His mother was lurking and nothing good ever came from her being close.
Draven never understood how she was able to come and go. Usually those of her kind were restricted from entering this realm or returning back to that horrific place they called home once they left. They were trapped either way.
He looked with blurry eyes at his watch, it was ten at night. He felt his head lolling back and forward as the ghosts of the pasts swallowed him whole.
No, no! Mommy, please don’t! That’s mine, give it to me now, it’s mine! Draven saw his little body jumping up and down as he pleaded into his mother’s ruby eyes for her to drop the puppy he’d found wondering around the block.
“Oh you stupid little cunt. This is not yours! This–this thing is nothing more than a pest. You are not supposed to be soft, boy! You are my son and you’re meant to be hardened, calcified by my blood that runs through your veins! You may have your father’s blood but mine is more influential. You’ll see in due time.”
Draven was confused and scared. He eyed the little black and white puppy and reached his small arms out. His mother pierced him with her stare. Then she smiled th
at malevolent Cheshire smile and broke the puppy’s neck.
Draven woke up with a fright. He was still wearing the clothes he wore from last and he smelt like vomit and stale alcohol.
His dream rushed back to him and he remembered the sadness and culpability. He did that to that poor dog. If he’d just left the mongrel alone, maybe it would have lived instead of being murdered by his psychotic mother all those years ago. Draven loved his mother at that point in his life. As each day passed and with every horrible thing she did, he felt his love for her slowly but surely diminish.
Snapping back to the present, Draven glanced at his watch and his eyes nearly popped out of his head. It was close to nine in the morning. Shit. That meant he had slept almost twelve hours. Looking down the side of the bed he realised he needed to clean up his vomit and get his ass in gear.
Jadis said she could only access his mind in the morning because of the magic siphoning fuckers. Draven took a quick shower and a shit. He rolled his eyes at another stupid myth from the mortals about vampires not defecating then threw on a pair of running pants, a shirt and his sneakers. Draven thought a mortal-like run to Mystique Runes may help clear his mind. It was just after ten when he dashed out the door. Jadis was waiting for him at the counter when he walked through the door, hearing that familiar bell ring above his head.
“Lock it, Drae, and flip the closed sign over for me. I don’t think I’ll have it in me when we finish up here to stay for the rest of the day.”
Draven immediately felt bad for asking her to do this and was considering telling her not to worry about it.
“Don’t, D. I can see the guilt in your eyes. I said I would do this for you and I will. I harnessed some of my magic last night and I think you’re right. Something is happening in New Orleans; I feel it too. I just don’t know what,” she said, tired. “And it’s proving to be difficult when some asshole is stealing my damn magic.”