Angeles Vampire

by Michael Pierce

  There was softer music down here—classical, stringed music—with almost no bleed through from the pulsating electronic music upstairs. Each descending click of our heels seemed to echo in the room below, announcing to everyone that we were coming. My heart was pounding in rhythm with my footfall, terrified of what new sights awaited us.

  I knew I couldn’t prepare myself for what the cellar housed, but when we stepped out of the staircase, my heartbeat increased threefold. Stretched out before us was a massive open room with rows of crescent moon couches, which half encircled bottom-lit podiums no higher than the couch cushions. And attached to the podiums were large wooden X’s. The ones that were occupied had a girl or guy chained to the Xs, bodies spread wide to mimic the letters themselves. And those chained individuals had one or more vampires paying them special attention, while others watched the attacks or performances from the couches.

  There must have been twenty or thirty couch setups, most of them occupied. There were no screams, but plenty of moaning and groaning of pleasure or anguish contributed to the room’s sickening ambiance.

  I turned abruptly and ran straight into Aaron, who caught me with both hands, clutching my upper arms, trying to minimize the spillage from my water glass.

  “Whoa, slow down,” he said.

  “What is this? What are we doing here?” I asked, barely able to get the words out. The glass shook in my hand.

  “You both need to see what we’re up against. The temptation. The vile savagery.” He spun me around and pushed me further into the room.

  Mallory remained at my side as we walked down an aisle, podiums lining either side. My eyes darted back and forth—at the fragile-looking prisoners at the mercy of their heinous masters. Many of the bound humans were in their underwear, the rest of their clothes in haphazard piles on the floor, so access to their skin was plentiful. There was ripped lingerie, blood, tears, and ecstasy, and the lustful eyes of audience members on the couches. To my horror, I identified more tattoos.

  Halfway down the aisle, Aaron pulled at my arm, signaling Mallory and me to stop. We stood before a couch with four men seated on it and an empty podium. I glanced nervously at the men on the couch, desperately hoping to recognize someone—but all four shadowed figures were strangers.

  “Gentlemen, may I introduce to you Fiona Winter and my little sister, Mallory,” Aaron said.

  I was so shocked by the words that just escaped his lips that I momentarily forgot about the men on the couch. I glanced back at him, my mouth agape, while he smiled down at me.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Fiona,” someone said, forcing me to return my attention to the new men in our company. A large man with arms as thick as my thighs was now standing before me, hand extended for me to shake.

  Apprehensively, I met his hand, which engulfed mine completely. And the next thing I knew, he was pulling me toward him, his grip like an iron manacle. A second man leapt up from the couch and grabbed my other wrist, knocking my water glass to the floor. Between both men, they easily heaved me up onto the lit podium, forcing each wrist into a leather cuff on each arm of the X.

  I screamed as I struggled for freedom, but I was securely locked in—the wooden X barely moving an inch. And before my screams could turn to pleas, a ball gag was thrust into my mouth and strapped to the back of my head.

  “We can’t have you disturbing the other patrons,” the first man said into my ear.

  Tears streamed down my face, as I was unsure of what was happening to me. Where was Matthew? Was this a test of the True North Society? I didn’t want this—this was not how I wanted to get in! My whole body turned ice cold when the first man cupped my cheek with one bear-sized hand. Then I felt hands on my right ankle as it was strapped to the bottom right leg of the X. Once my left ankle was also secured, the second man returned to the couch, leaving me with the big guy who’d first shaken my hand.

  Unable to cry for help, I watched as Mallory stepped up onto the podium and stopped before me, her expression grim and eyes smoldering. Then she reached forward, her perfectly manicured hand reaching into the top of the turtleneck and clawing at my skin beneath. Having found what she was looking for, Mallory pulled out the compass pendant I had received from Matthew. She gripped it tightly in her fist and tugged, snapping the chain and freeing it from my neck.

  “You don’t deserve to wear this,” she snarled. “Don’t delude yourself into thinking you’re one of us.”

  Turning on her stiletto heel, Mallory stepped down from the platform and joined Aaron in walking toward the stairs. They were… leaving me here. I screamed into the ball gag, which was enough to get Mallory’s attention one last time. She twisted just enough to glance back, gave me a small wave, then followed her coach—her brother—up the staircase, leaving me with monsters far worse than any of my nightmares could conjure.

  28

  Fiona

  As horrible a person as she was, how could she leave me here? What kind of a human being would do that to another? If only I’d never accepted the call of the True North Society. I’d still have been living my normal life—going to school, working my shifts at Hot Coffee, and complaining about the boss’s daughter with my best friends. I’d not have been subjected to this…

  I tugged at the leather cuffs on my wrists, but it was no use. I couldn’t escape and couldn’t protect myself from the incoming assaults. My legs shook and were losing strength, but the bindings held me in place, not even allowing me to collapse to the floor. The only escape I could hope for, was passing out quickly.

  The large man standing before me grabbed at my turtleneck with both hands and effortlessly ripped it right down the center. Smiling, he moved the material away from my neck and ran his rough fingers over my bare skin, sending shivers surging through my body. I closed my eyes, still brimming with tears, waiting for him to take his first bite. Cold air gently washed over the skin exposed by my open shirt. I pictured the man’s face inches from me, breathing steadily on my skin, breathing in my scent like a feral animal.

  But still nothing was happening. When I finally gathered the courage to open my eyes and blink away some of the tears, I discovered I was alone on the podium. My would-be attackers were now engaged in conversation with the man I’d met at the bar.

  “What part of willing participants do you not understand?” the man from the bar asked, glaring at each of the four men from the couch. “This is not the kind of behavior I condone in my establishment. I don’t need another raid due to dirtbags like you.”

  “It was just a little joke, nothing more,” the guy with the bear hands said.

  “It doesn’t look like she’s laughing? Did I miss the joke? Maybe I’m too dumb to get it. Is that it?” The man from upstairs was now wholly focused on the big male with the bear hands. Then with both hands, the man from the bar grabbed the big man’s head, and with a sickening crunch, twisted it around 180 degrees.

  I shrieked in horror as the big man crumpled to the ground, his friends all taking a few steps back, refusing to put up a fight for their lost friend. I quickly looked away, afraid I was about to throw up into the ball gag—and potentially drown in it. Stars swirled around me even with my eyes closed. I began to heave, but fought to keep the contents down.

  “Remove that ball gag before she throws up,” the man from the bar said.

  Moments later, the rubber ball was pulled out of my mouth. I continued to heave, enough so that I tasted the wretchedness rise to the back of my throat. But still I swallowed it down, cringing at the lingering bitterness.

  Next, my arms were freed, then my legs. I fell forward, but was caught by two of the men on the way down, who carried me over to the couch.

  “I suggest you heed the rules of my establishment, or next time none of you will be leaving here alive,” the man from the bar warned in a menacing tone. “Now leave us. And leave him.”

  I tried not to think of the dead body at my feet. Slowly, the bursting stars in my vision began to recede. No
w I could see the other groups gathered by nearby couches, all eyes on the situation unfolding at our unlucky station.

  When the other three men had fled, the man from the bar stepped over the body on the floor and sat a person’s distance away from me on the couch. “Are you okay?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned. “I apologize for the situation you were forced into. It is not something I condone.”

  “This is your club?” I asked, my voice scratchy and hoarse.

  “It is,” he said. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Frederick Alabaster.” He offered me his hand.

  Trying not to think too much about what that hand had just done, I quickly shook it and strained to pull mine back, but he held it longer than expected. Then he brought it to his lips and gently kissed my knuckles.

  “I could see upstairs that you were new to this. Just know we’re not all so terrible,” Frederick said, and only then released my hand. “May I have the pleasure of your name?”

  “F—Fiona,” I said, my body still shaking. I clasped my hands together and shoved them into my lap.

  “Well, Fiona, it seems the friends you arrived with are not great friends at all.”

  I shook my head in agreement.

  “You will most likely be needing a ride home. Do you have a cellphone checked in upstairs?”

  I shook my head again.

  “In that case, is there a friend we can call, or simply a taxi to pick you up?”

  I wanted to call Matthew, but didn’t have his number memorized and my phone was still in Aaron’s Land Rover—along with my clothes. I didn’t know if they were really gone or were just waiting upstairs, but there was no way I was getting in a car with them again. I thought of calling Alexis or Candace, but didn’t want them to pick me up here. I shouldn’t even have thought of subjecting them to this hellish underbelly of society.

  “A taxi will work,” I said, softly. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “It’s the least I can do,” Frederick said. “I’d offer to drive you home myself, but I’d bet that would make you even more uncomfortable.”

  I silently thanked him for not insisting on that, then said, “Thank you for helping me.”

  “I hate to see someone not enjoying themselves in my club. When you’re ready and willing to experience more, then you should really consider coming back.”

  I adamantly doubted that, and my stomach lurched just from the thought of ever setting foot in here again, but I couldn’t express that, so I simply nodded and produced the best smile I could manage given the circumstances.

  Frederick made a call on his cell phone—obviously given special treatment with being the owner—to have the body of the man with the bear hands disposed of and to call a taxi. Then he walked me back upstairs to the pounding music and rooms of scantily clad patrons. He walked purposefully through the crowds, who continually parted for him like the Red Sea. I fought to remain in his wake as we made our way to the main entrance.

  As I left the confines of the vampire club and entered the industrial night air, I was finally able to fully breathe, despite the staleness outside. I was still alive—unharmed actually—and had everything to be grateful for, thanks to the man walking before me.

  However, Frederick stopped abruptly as we reached the parking lot, his gaze intensely focused on someone swiftly approaching us. As his face came into the moonlight, I saw it was Matthew, and my heart leapt at the sight of him.

  29

  Matthew

  I saw Frederick before noticing Fiona and was immediately afraid this was it—the end of her. I had no idea why he’d spare her when he hadn’t spared any of the previous women in my life, but I prayed she’d become that exception.

  They were heading into the parking lot of Fangloria but Frederick halted when he saw me coming. A sly grin spread over his face while he waited for me to close the gap between us.

  “Matthew!” Fiona exclaimed when she finally recognized me.

  She didn’t look physically injured, but did look like she’d been through hell. Her black turtleneck was ripped down the center. Her eyes were bloodshot, dirty streaks lining her cheeks.

  “Is this another friend of yours?” Frederick asked, innocently.

  “Yes,” Fiona said. “I’ll go with him.”

  “If you’re sure.” Frederick kept his eyes trained on me.

  “Fiona, are you all right?” I asked, once I was standing before the two of them.

  “Please just take me home,” she pleaded.

  “I’ll cancel the taxi,” Frederick said.

  Fiona turned to him. “I really do appreciate the help.”

  Frederick reached out and shook her hand, and it took all my self-control not to rip her away from him. “It was a pleasure to be of service, sweetling,” Frederick said, then kissed her knuckles. His gaze wandered to me as he released her, his smile unfaltering.

  I pointed my clicker at the sea of cars, punching the button to make the lights flash on my Land Rover. “Fiona, go wait in the car. And lock the door,” I commanded.

  She didn’t need to be told twice, but hurried past me in the direction of the Land Rover.

  “I didn’t expect to have you gracing us with your presence,” Frederick said.

  “What did you do to her?” I snarled.

  “Me? I saved your nubile princess from a night of humiliation and bloodletting,” Frederick said. “Is she your latest obsession?”

  “Don’t patronize me. I know it was you,” I said, sticking my index finger directly in his face. “And when I can prove it, I’ll be back to pay you a visit. You will not lay a finger on her again.”

  “You’re always so dramatic, Matthew,” Frederick said. “You should know by now your threats amount to nothing. As always, we can talk things out like the civilized individuals we are.”

  “This isn’t over!” I warned.

  “Why don’t you come in for a drink? On the house. She’ll be fine in the car for a little while.”

  “Stay away from her,” I said.

  “It’s not my fault she got thrust into my lap,” Frederick said with a smirk. “You may have to work harder to keep her away from me.”

  “I’m warning you!” I roared, getting right up in his face, baring my fangs.

  “It’s always a pleasure to see you, Matthew. Don’t stay away so long next time,” Frederick said, flashing a predatory grin, then casually heading back into his nightclub.

  Now I was convinced Frederick was behind Fiona’s accident, though I still didn’t know if it had been intended to kill her or serve as a warning. I suspected it was his way of saying she was on his radar and that he’d toy with her—and thus toy with me—as he pleased, in whichever manner he saw fit. And now, he was appealing to Fiona’s emotional distress as her savior, attempting to make me look crazy and paranoid. But I knew I was neither of those things, having witnessed over the decades the savagery and depravity he was truly capable of.

  I marched back to the Land Rover and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Are you hurt?” I asked as I started the ignition.

  Fiona shook her head as she stared out into the night, out at the brightly lit high rises of Los Angeles towering over the forgotten industrial buildings in this derelict neighborhood. “Frederick saved me before anything bad happened,” she said after a prolonged silence. “Where were you?”

  Before I even had the chance to answer, Fiona broke down in tears—a deluge of emotion from the unexpected evening suddenly pouring out of her. I offered her a packet of tissues from the glove compartment and allowed her to cleanse her system while I accelerated onto the freeway. I didn’t know if my touch would help or hurt, so kept my hands on the wheel to give her the space she seemed to need. I knew her world would never be the same, and she was still realizing it.

  It took a while, but she finally calmed—the tears drying up, her breathing steadying as we left the horrors of the city behind us. It wasn’t until then that I finally answered her question.r />
  “My phone was hacked,” I said. “The text changing the meeting time didn’t come from me. By the time I found out what had happened and who was responsible, the Land Rover Aaron had taken was already here, so I sped here as quickly as I could.”

  “Couldn’t you have just run here in a flash—gotten here in like a minute or two?”

  “You’ve been watching too many movies,” I said with a laugh. “I’m fast for short distances, but not that fast.”

  “Aaron is Mallory’s brother…” She wiped her eyes with another wadded tissue. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I didn’t realize you didn’t know. It wasn’t like it was a secret. Hasn’t he been around the coffee shop, since his father owns it?”

  “I’ve never seen him there,” Fiona said. “They have my purse and phone… and my clothes. Oh, and my necklace.”

  “He took your True North necklace?” I didn’t know what I was going to do when I saw Aaron next—or maybe even his father, Douglas. That family had crossed so many lines tonight. I loathed the thought of having to continue to put up with them—but knew, even as livid as I was, the events of that night weren’t going to ultimately change anything with them. As much as I wanted to kill the lot of them, I knew I couldn’t. My next challenge was to keep Fiona from quitting after this little stunt.

  “Mallory took it,” Fiona answered.

  “I’m so sorry about tonight,” I said. “I knew the two of you were at odds, but I didn’t realize it was this bad. As hard as it’s going to be, you’re going to have to somehow find a way to work together.”

  “You’re asking for the impossible,” Fiona said.

  “Like the existence of angels and vampires? That kind of impossible?”

  “More so,” she said, defiantly, crossing her arms and adjusting her bangs to adequately frame her face—what she always did when she wanted to hide.