by Virgil Moore
“Hey kid, are you alright?” the old bus driver asked Zack. He was an older man in a blue city jumpsuit.
“I’ll live,” he replied. His lip bled. He stumbled in and sat down in the middle of the bus. He took his shoe off and opened a small compartment. He returned his shoe and deposited the bus fare with a sigh.
He rode the bus and got out four blocks from the club. He walked slowly there, taking his leisure. He was tired. He only wanted to sit and enjoy a little peace for himself after what had happened. His cheek was swollen and turning purple as he walked up to the door.
Posters that displayed the great musician Demetrius Del Marin were lined one after the other on the outer walls. He played musical goblets. He did everything from classical to his own upbeat compositions. His face was everywhere lately. He was a self-proclaimed vampire. And in the Gothic community, that was big. He was more famous as a classical musician than ever lately. But he got his start with the Gothic crowd. Something about being a vampire just turned those people on. And he was coming to town.
The black door was a welcome sight behind the very large bouncer. It was decorated with simple tones of red, gray, black, and the occasional stripes of white. It was inviting in a creep sort of way. But the main attraction that night was posted next to the door. Live music. It calmed Zack’s mind, especially through times of stress. It was something he needed.
Chapter Nine
Fate Has A Sense Of Irony
“One of those days?” the tall bouncer asked Zack. He looked at the busted lip and face. The man’s muscles were larger than his head. He was wearing a black tank top and faded pants with silver chains and piercings on them.
He had clearly arrived at the right place.
“Yeah, you could say that,” he replied with a nod. He fished out a ten dollar bill he had in his sock and gave it to the bouncer.
The large man waved off the money, “just promise to buy a drink at the bar and we’ll call it even. Looking at your face, you seem like you could use a break,” he undid the velvet rope barring the black door. “Ask the bartender for a bag of ice. Tell him Bret said it was okay,” the bouncer felt sorry for him.
He went directly to the bar, “soda,” and put down the ten dollar bill.
“You sure that’s all?” the bartender asked him. His suave appearance insulted Zack’s split lip by its mere presence.
“Bret told me to ask you for some ice,” he spoke up, tending to his lip, “and a napkin.”
“Sure,” the bartender gave him a white cloth napkin with ice, then a large soda with a straw.
He found his way to an empty table a few feet from the stage. The band was just warming up. There was only a bass player and a drummer. No sign of the singer yet.
The table had two stools. He sat down at the closest. He placed the ice against his lip and cheek. Blood populated the once pure cloth instantly.
Inside the club, black and red were the main themes. The patrons followed suit. They dressed in intricate Gothic designs. He could spot at least five pairs of fairy wings from his table alone. In comparison, his dark clothing almost seemed too bright. There was an even blend of men, women, girls and boys mixing and joining up throughout the busy club. The house lights were still up. It surprised him that so many people were having fun with the lights on. The club was filled, but not full. Most of them were on the dance floor, swaying to a Scott Peeples remix pumped through the speakers as the band got ready. He instantly recognized the video game it was from. It was a solid trance beat that made him feel relieved. This Club Sauger had a good sense of fun to it. He began to smile for the first time since the dream.
He looked around, still no live music.
He pressed the ice to his face. The house lights dimmed. The show was finally about to start.
The bass picked up. The drums tapped. At the far end of the stage a tall beautiful woman stepped up from behind the curtain. Her long dark hair flowed as she walked between the bass player and the drummer. Her dark corset and long skirt followed. She was gorgeous in the pale light.
The house lights rose.
She was a goddess. He couldn’t help but to stare at her. Her eyes were closed. She let the music play beside her. The bass thumped. The drums tapped away. But she was the only person in the room. As her eyes began to open he kept his attention on her beautifully serene expression.
Then she opened her eyes.
Chapter Ten
Kismet
She opened her eyes to the crowd. She had planned on seeing the same empty table as she always did before her. This time things were different. She recognized him immediately. There was a shock that ran up her back as their eyes locked. He had been staring at her since she walked on stage. It made her feel like she was naked. His deep gaze was piercing. It was Zack Giver. He was the vessel of the demon vampire incarnate. The same young man she was contracted to kill an hour ago.
There was no sound as she stood there. Nothing could hold any distance between them. She forgot the lyrics to the song. She forgot her own name for a moment. He was just too focused on her. Every part of him was attentive to her every movement. She couldn’t help but freeze in the intensity of his stare.
The bass player slowed his rhythm. The drummer tapped less and less. The song was over without ever really beginning. She put her hands on the microphone to steady it. To steady herself. It was something she never did. It was more to steady her nerves than anything else. As the stage lights dimmed and the house music was turned up. She could still see his eyes admiring her, consuming her.
She knew it couldn’t be avoided. She had to talk to him that night. She stepped forward with one leap of courage and began to fall immediately. In her narrowed view of the moment, she had walked off the end of the stage.
Zack Giver caught her instantly in his arms. He had reached her before the chair he was sitting in could fall. He was slightly cold to her. It was a feeling that was warmer than the other men she’d been with, but somehow colder than the rest. He was different. He was a demon.
He held her in his arms for a moment. He kept his eyes on hers. He hadn’t planned to save anyone that night, but it seemed fate had a different plan that night.
“You saved me,” she told him. “I don’t think anyone else here could have done that.”
“Perhaps one day you’ll be the only one able to save me when the time comes,” he slowly lifted her to her feet. She was soft, but intensely warm. It almost hurt his skin to even be close to her. There was electricity in their touch. He liked it.
She looked at the table in front of them. She looked at the chair on the floor. He had begun to turn. No human could have made it to her in time. The demon had already sowed his dreams with its promises.
He took her hand. He led her to his previously lonely table. He picked up the chair from the floor and helped her into it.
“You seem to be doing this a lot for me recently,” she smiled.
He wasn’t sure how to respond. This had never happened before. He never made a point to rescue beautiful women that were falling. It felt surreal. But it had happened. He had caught her instantly. The feeling was still settling in as he thought of what to say next.
“What’s your name?” her light, smooth, sensual voice spoke under the club music as she sat down next to him.
He raised his eyes. She had thin blue stunning eyes and a perfect oval face sat atop her elegant slender neck and body. She was a dream painted in flesh and blood. “It’s Zack.”
She reached out with her delicate, white polished fingers. She put her hand on the back of his. There was an instant spark again. It spread through both of their arms. There was another silent connection made in this simple moment. Their touch was hauntingly familiar at first encounter. There was something that their bodies knew that they did not. It was a memory of the skin, of the flesh that neither was fully aware of. It was an instant attraction.
A
light scent slowly made its way to him. It was mellow at first. Then it entranced him with one full inspiration. He looked down at their hands. Hers were long and slender. His were thin yet toned. He moved his eyes to her elegant corset. The blue laced ribbons caught his attention soon enough. It was hard to hide her voluptuous figure but the tight clothing accomplished what it needed to. A black lace & ribbon choker held a rather large all-pink heart-shaped buckle at the base of her throat. He stared at her neck and was disturbed at how easy it was to keep staring. Her flesh was inviting.
He finally paused for a moment to speak, “and what might you be?” Her soft hand still on his, he drew his attention to the milky light skin on the girl’s arm.
It was an interesting question that prompted an interesting answer. “Here to meet you,” she smiled playfully.
“Yes. You are,” he wasn’t sure what he was saying. The words only came out as he spoke them. He was in a daze. This young woman had a glow about her. It was commanding and seductive. It was sensual and captivating. She was a beneficial distraction in his situation. He didn’t feel the pain of his bruises anymore. There was only her face and the wonderful sent. It was intoxicating. It was welcoming. He finally placed the aroma. Cherry and lavender. They were two of his favorite smells. She was nothing like any other girl he’d ever seen. He remembered what his dad had once said about first impressions. She had definitely made his night.
“Careful about staring,” she said with a slight smirk to her lips. “You might like what you see.” The tips of her fingers slid across the back of his hand. She was beginning to actually enjoy the sensation of his touch. She thought about her obligations, but was too distracted by his deep eyes.
The sensation was pleasurable for both of them. He enjoyed her touch. The contact was enriching, the feeling instant. The connection was strong, fast, arterial.
He was too focused to think to ask her name. Her eyes were too entrancing as they stared back into his soul.
She shifted to his cheek, “what happened? You look like someone used your face to clean their fist.”
Her voice was sexy. He was amazed by how she sounded. She tilted her head to the right. She shifted her hips to the side slightly, gently, femininely. Her hand was still on his, lightly caressing it. She attempted to get information by baiting him. She wanted to know without seriously probing about what happened. Anything she could get now would help her later. When the moment came it might be a little piece of information like this that might result in his death. She needed to remain objective, to calculate the situation to her advantage. It was working.
“I tried to be a hero,” he said softly under his breath. He didn’t enjoy his attempt at saving the kid. He didn’t really know why he even thought about it to begin with. He had never done such a thing in his life before. It was like it was someone else’s decision.
“Careful about doing that,” she warned him, sliding her hand up to his bruised face.
“Because I might get hurt?” he smiled. The warmth of her skin was comforting, soothing to his injury. She was hot, physically. He could feel the heat rising from her touch. He liked it.
“Because you might become one in the process,” she said cheerfully. She dropped her hand back down to the table.
He thought about her words. He didn’t respond. He was too perplexed as to why she was so warm. He wanted to know why she smelled the way she did. He wanted to know why he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He wanted to know more, to see more of her. His eyes were glued to her black hair as it swayed when she spoke. She smiled again.
He couldn’t take his eyes off that smile. It was disrupting his thoughts. The black satin corset absorbed the light from the room, taking in his concentration as well. The blue lace did all but shine within itself overtop the thin white shirt. Her skin lightly showed through. She was a Gothic angel. It was his personal fantasy come true.
He spoke out of the silence, “You still didn’t tell me your name.” His heart beat quickly. His face was flushed, “I’d like to know what such a beautiful women’s name is.” He was light-headed with the thoughts of who she might be. He wanted to keep her talking, to know more about her, anything to keep hearing her seductive voice hypnotically soothing his mind.
“I’m from Washington, originally,” she wanted to be up front with him. It was an inviting concept. To be honest for a moment with someone that she would otherwise constantly lie to. The thought was refreshing to her.
“Like that vampire book?” he asked smoothly. He became slightly embarrassed when she clearly had no idea what he was talking about.
“Washington, D.C., not Washington State. It’s just so many hundred miles north of here. I lived in a high-rise hotel there with my dad on the eighth floor,” her spontaneous spirit seemed to drop away when she mentioned living in the capital. She had recalled something unpleasant. It was something that she didn’t want to think about.
He picked up on it immediately. He changed the subject back, “you still haven’t told me your name.” He was getting comfortable with her now. He stared less and focused more on her brilliant blue eyes. He wasn’t thinking about the pain from his lip anymore. He was only thinking about her.
“You’re right, I haven’t told you,” the young girl played with him. She could tell he was attracted to her. It was obvious. It was something she thought to take advantage of later.
He was curious. He enjoyed talking with her. At the same time he could feel that something was wrong. In the back of his mind there was a voice that told him she was dangerous. He ignored it.
Chapter Eleven
No Second Thoughts
Her black hair shifted as she leaned in towards Zack. Her chest pressed against the table, “apologize first.”
His eyes drifted. She had a magnificent body, “for staring?”
“For causing me to miss choke on stage for the first time. No one has ever looked at me the way you did from this table. It was overwhelming. Moments like that can never be taken back. I want an apology,” she knew her position well. She had to take back control of the situation.
He raised his hand this time. He leaned forward to her. His hand caressed the side of her soft face. The warmth kissed his skin again. It was something that he would normally never do. He had a reserved personality. This was unlike him to be so bold. But it had to be done. He wanted to be closer to her. He leaned ever closer, “I’m sorry for stealing you away from the moment.”
She didn’t know what to say. Blood rushed through her body. It flushed her cheeks. It chilled her back in a sudden rush of sensation. She enjoyed his hand, his touch. There was a soft pressure to it that she wasn’t used to. She stared back at him, “I think that’ll do.” She leaned back. She had to break contact between them. It was too intense. She enjoyed it too much. It had gotten to her. He had gotten to her. She pulled away.
“Thank you for this,” she smiled and stood. “With that, I have to go before anything else happens tonight,” she leaned into him and kissed him on the cheek. Her soft lips were warm and wet on his bruised skin. The feeling was electric. She didn’t want to pull away. She had to.
“Don’t go. It’s only-” he wanted to keep talking.
She gestured to the clock at the far end of the club with one animated finger.
It was already, “9:50 pm,” he said as he realized he had ten minutes to run four blocks or risk being left by the final bus of the night. He had to leave her.
“See, tempus fugit,” her smirk was genuinely enjoyable.
He adjusted his glasses. He knew it was Latin. He just wasn’t sure what it meant. But he knew he had heard that phrase before.
“It means ‘time flies’, Zack. You should have studied more,” her black hair swayed as she stepped backwards. The scent filled the air again. It overloaded his mind. Her skirt flowed, catching his attention with every twist.
He snapped out of it, “you haven’t told me yo
ur name yet.” He wanted to know before he had to run for the bus. Name or not, he might be left behind if he didn’t leave immediately. He didn’t want to take his chances until midnight when his father got off of work. He had to run soon.
“It’s a secret. Call it penance for making me miss the opening song,” she was toying with him. It was everything she could do to keep from leaping on him and pulling him into the closest bathroom with a lock.
“Then what can I call you?” he called out as he backed away towards the door.
“Call me ‘K’, for now,” she turned. Her long clothing swayed as she walked into the back stage area. He didn’t want to look away.
It was 9:54 pm. He rushed out the door. He jogged down the street. The summer heat pressed on his lungs the whole way. Three blocks later he saw the Gainesville city bus stop at the end of the road. His breath hastened. The bus was about to turn in early for the night. The final block was torture. He was the only one there, right before the route turned the corner. He huffed and panted as he got on and thanked the bus driver with a nod for seeing him. He walked to the back this time and collapsed in the seat. He was exhausted. Sweat dripped down his face. He passed out.
Chapter Twelve
The Course Of Destiny
Five blocks away a young woman walked carelessly into a dark and steamy alleyway after a late night party. She was drunk and aimlessly lost.
