Bad Vampire

by Lauren Dawes

  “Something that’ll bring all the boys to the yard,” she purred. “Maybe you should come and get ready at my place.”

  “Gah. No. I am perfectly capable of choosing my own clothes.”

  The succubus pouted. “But it’s my birthday, and you haven’t gotten me anything.”

  “I’ve just given you airtime,” I shot back, then sighed. “Fine. But this is it. No more freebies from Cat. Oh! And no leather, whips, chains, gimp masks, ball gags, or pink.”

  She threw her hands up into the air. “Well there goes my idea to put you in a cute pink pant suit ala Legally Blonde.”

  “That’s not funny.” Beside me, Sawyer chuckled. “Traitor,” I muttered.

  Faline patted the top of my head before she walked away. “You can come home with me.”

  “I’m already shaking in my boots,” I said to myself as I got back to work.

  Faline’s apartment was not what I was expecting. In fact, I didn’t know what I was expecting, but an open-planned, light-filled, and Hampton’s style decor was not it.

  “Don’t you have any demon-y things?” I walked around the room, touching the shells and vintage nautical paraphernalia dotted around the walls. The rug beneath my bare feet felt expensive…and freaking amazing.

  “Define demon-y things.” Faline was in the galley kitchen, pulling some wine from the fridge. “Like torture devices?”

  “Maybe.” I spun to face her. “Or, I don’t know… brimstone?”

  She scrunched up her delicate nose. “Brimstone is disgusting. It stains the rugs, and that smell? Can’t get it out at all.”

  “You sound like you’ve had first-hand experience.”

  She shrugged, brandishing a bottle at me. “Wine or something stronger?”

  I walked toward the kitchen counter and perched on a bleached wood stool. “If I’m going to be playing dress-up Barbie, I’ll need something a little stronger.”

  Her mouth flexed into a wicked smile. The bitch was going to enjoy this. She turned around and opened up a cupboard above the fridge. Without having to get a step. I hated her a little more. “I’ve got Goose, Jack, or Lag.”

  “Ooo, all my favorites. Lay some Jack on me.”

  She handed me a squat glass with ice and the bottle of Jack. “I have a feeling you’d like more than one drink.”

  I started pouring. “You got that right.” I threw back the first mouthful, then poured another. “Alright, I’m ready.”

  “For a firing line? Going to war?”

  “Believe me, it kind of feels that way. No, I’m ready for you to recreate me.” I scratched absently under the strap of my shoulder brace.

  “Oh, honey, you say the sweetest things.” Taking my free hand, she dragged me into her bedroom, which was just as light and airy as the rest of her apartment. She had an old fishing net on the wall, along with more nautical knick-knacks and enough throw pillows to bury a man.

  She positioned me in front of a vanity mirror then pressed on my shoulders to make me sit. She began fussing with makeup trays and pots of things I couldn’t even begin to identify.

  “I’m going to make you look good enough to eat,” she announced.

  “Is that desirable when going to a sex club? There are things there that would actually eat me.”

  She gave me a wicked grin. “Only if you asked nicely.”

  Taking a deep breath, I waved my hand in front of me. “Carry on. I’ll be here self-medicating.”

  With a throaty chuckle, she got to work.

  An hour later, I barely recognized the face staring back at me. I hardly wore makeup. I didn’t think it suited me, but it looked as if I was wrong, wrong, wrong about that. I was fucking hot. She’d left my hair loose in long teal waves that softened the harder edges of my face.

  “I’d bang you,” Faline announced with a grin. “You are so getting some action tonight.”

  “Action? I don’t need any action.”

  “Why? Got a boyfriend stashed somewhere we don’t know about?”

  “No.”

  “Then you can enjoy yourself, and if someone offers you orgasms, you’ll take them.”

  I turned back to stare at my reflection, my eyes running over the smoky makeup, the cat-eye liner, and the false lashes that I had to admit made me look fuckable now. “I’m not sure I can do it.”

  “Casual sex?”

  I snorted. “Casual sex is fine.”

  “What is it then? Ah, the supernatural thing.”

  “It’s not what you think,” I blurted, swiveling around on the stool. “I don’t think I’m as terrified of you guys any more, but others? I don’t know. What if there are extra… appendages?”

  She made of show of twisting her tongue around in a swirling motion. “Extra appendages are fun. Plus, if you don’t want anyone to approach you, stick with me or Sawyer. We’ll keep you safe.” She waited until I nodded before saying, “Okay, time to get dressed.”

  “This is the part I’m scared about,” I told her, following her into her huge walk-in closet. “This apartment is like a Tardis.”

  “Ah, a fellow Whovian.” She began pulling dresses off the racks like this was a Nieman Marcus rather than her own personal wardrobe. I watched her with increasing trepidation. Eventually, she turned around and said, “Strip.”

  “Aren’t you going to buy me dinner first?” I shot back with a grin, stripping out of my jeans and blouse.

  “Cute panties,” she commented, and I looked down at my unicorn print Victoria’s Secret underwear.

  “Thanks. I bought a life-time supply when they released this design.”

  “Badass. Unicorns are wicked. Step.” She positioned the dress at my feet, and I stepped into the shimmering red fabric. It skimmed over my thighs and hips, finally coming to rest at my bust.

  “Lose the bra and the shoulder brace if you can,” Faline said absently as she walked around the back of me to zip up the dress. When it was done up, she stepped away, studying me.

  “I like the color, but it’s clashing with your hair,” she said. “Next dress.”

  She got me into another three dresses before finally settling on a pair of leather pants that felt amazing against my skin and a black tank top that hit me just above my navel. Around my waist, she settled three leather bands that were nothing more than decorative. Finally, she slid me into a red leather jacket that finished at the waist and showed off my bare midriff.

  “How does the shoulder feel?”

  I shrugged. Honestly, I’d expected a lot more pain.

  “Okay. What shoes do you want to wear?”

  “My motorcycle boots?” I asked hopefully.

  “Pfft, no. You’re wearing fuck-me heels. It’ll take the outfit to the next level.”

  As she searched for a pair of her heels for me to wear, and I secretly wondered how we both shared the same miniature shoe size, I asked, “Why did you decide against the dress? Not that I’m complaining, but I thought you were going to feminize me.”

  “I was, but I want you to be comfortable too. We’re going to a place you’ve never been before, and I didn’t want you hindered by fabric if something went wrong.”

  “Thanks for the foreshadowing,” I joked. “But seriously, I really appreciate you considering my feelings.”

  “What are friends for?” she replied, stripping out of her work clothes. I leaned against the doorjamb, looking at the racks and racks of clothes she had. Some of them looked vintage, but then I remembered Faline was old and some of these outfits were probably originals.

  “Holy shit, your back!” I hadn’t meant to yell, but the words kind of popped out and were amplified. By a lot.

  The succubus peered at me over her shoulder, the same shoulder that was covered in scars.

  “You don’t have a filter, do you?”

  I waved away her comment. “Already established. They look like whipping scars?” She gave me a blank stare, and I asked, “What the hell happened to you?”

  She shrugge
d and slid a black sheath dress over her head, the silky fabric covering her back and hiding it from view. The dress was full-length, but light enough that she could move easily. She slid on a pair of black stilettos—the bottoms painted a vibrant red that looked like blood.

  Taking the cue that she didn’t want to talk about it, I cleared my throat and asked, “So will you feed tonight?”

  She smiled devilishly. “Oh yeah. Tonight, it’s going to be like an all-you-can-eat buffet, and I’m going to gorge myself.”

  “Will you take someone home?”

  “Only if someone takes my fancy. I’ve really been into fallen angels lately.” She shivered. “Those fellas know how to spank a female.”

  “I can’t unhear that,” I drawled. “Thank you. Also, fallen angels are real?”

  “Oh, sweet, sweet Cat. I forget that you’re so ignorant sometimes. Fallen angels are a dichotomy of good and evil. Mostly evil, but they know how to make a female feel good.”

  “Remind me never to fuck a fallen angel.”

  “Oh, you don’t fuck them, they fuck you. Hard.”

  I waved my hands in front of my face. “Okay, this just moved into awkward territory.”

  Faline laughed, just as there was a knock on the door. “Could you grab that? I just have to touch up my make up.”

  I wobbled my way to her front door, cursing the stilettos heels for making me feel like a fucking giraffe, and opened it. I found Sawyer standing on the other side, dressed in black slacks and a black-button down… in other words, how he normally dressed. His hair had that sexy tousled look, the stubble on his jaw just the other side of five o’clock shadow. Unable to help myself, I drew his chocolate and whisky scent into my nose.

  “I see you went all out for tonight,” I told him.

  His heated gaze raked over my body, and I made sure to stand still. I wasn’t going to be intimidated by him. But holy hell. The look in his eyes was electrifying.

  “That’s what you’re wearing tonight?” he asked, almost angrily.

  I folded my arms protectively over my chest. “Yes. Why?”

  His scorching gaze returned to my face. “No reason. I’m just glad I’m going in armed.”

  Sixteen

  Slayke was loud and oppressive. As soon as I set foot inside the door, my opal warmed against my skin and I became hyperaware of the shard of conduit glass sitting in my jacket pocket. While Sawyer spoke to someone he knew, I took a moment to take stock of the club. It was located downtown in a former industrial part of Buxton that had recently undergone a series of upgrades. Trendy bars and clubs had opened there in the last few years, the memories of drug deals and murders a not-too-distant memory.

  The outside of Slayke was black brick, but the inside was a combination of deep reds, golds, and black. To our right was the bar. The left side had the DJ booth, elevated above the whole club. Cages hung from the ceiling, but the occupants locked in there didn’t look like they wanted to come out any time soon. There were at least two people in each, sometimes three, and there was one that was at least twelve feet by six feet—big enough to house the orgy that was taking place.

  I let out a shallow breath and tried to remember that I was here for Faline. That it was her birthday. It wasn’t like I was a prude. I enjoyed sex. A lot. It was the mix of human-looking and non-human looking sexual partners in those cages that made me cautious. There was a woman with shimmering purple skin and a long swishy tail dressed as a Dominatrix inside one, with a creature that looked like it had hooves for feet and was covered in hair. It was very clearly male and very clearly enjoying himself.

  “Where’s everyone else?” I asked, looking around for the rest of the team. Although Brax wasn’t coming, that still left BDSM and Growling Guy.

  The succubus pouted. “They bailed. It doesn’t matter though. Let’s go and get a drink!” she shouted above the noise, grabbing my hand and leading me toward the bar. I ordered a double shot of Jack and downed it before ordering another one.

  Sawyer sidled up beside me. “See anything you like?” he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, then looked out at the crowd. “It’s all very… uninhibited.”

  He laughed. “It’s a supernatural sex club. What else did you expect?”

  “Touché.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just expected things to be a little more closed door, you know? They could go to a room if they wanted to fuck.”

  “You can do that too, but the cages are for the exhibitionist and voyeurs. Everyone’s needs are catered to here.”

  “Have you ever been in the cage?” I asked softly. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. When he looked at me again, his eyes were black. He blinked rapidly a few times, the color swirling back to gray.

  “Were you just feeding?”

  He nodded. “Sorry. It’s really fucking hard to ignore the atmosphere in here.”

  I knew what he was talking about. Sex was like a haze in here, and even though it shouldn’t have affected me, I felt my body respond to the sounds and smells around me.

  “Does that disgust you?” Sawyer asked, brushing his knuckles gently down my cheek.

  I stared at him, holding back the shiver his touch had elicited. “Not as much as I thought it would.” Swallowing a mouthful of liquor, I added, “What happens if you don’t feed?”

  Leaning his elbow on the bar, he drew in a deep breath. “What happens if you don’t breathe?” he countered.

  “You have to do it? Doesn’t that get boring?”

  “Sometimes,” he admitted, “But that’s my nature. You can’t be angry at something that’s built into your DNA.”

  I grunted and gave him a pass. I guessed he was right. “So, tell me something else, Sawyer.”

  He turned his body more fully towards me, and I got to check him out a little more. I knew he was wearing the same thing he normally wore to work, but somehow, in this setting, it was all different. He looked edgier, sexier…and I derailed my thoughts right there. I could admit Sawyer was a walking wet dream that made my ovaries go weak, but I couldn’t ever go there…could I? Surely that was against workplace rules. Plus, you know, he was a supernatural and an incubus. I’d never know for sure what I was getting from him. Would he always coax the lust from me because that was in his nature, or did he allow these feelings to surface naturally?

  “Why are you looking at me like I’m a math problem?”

  “Not a math problem. A sex problem.”

  His brows hit his hair line. “Excuse me?”

  I was forced a step closer when a guy the size of a bear shuffled up to the bar, shoving me in the back. “I’m just wondering how you deal with relationships.”

  “I don’t do relationships, so I never have to deal with them.”

  “Never? You’re a one-night stand kind of guy?”

  He smiled with all of his teeth. “That’s all I ever can be. Incubi and succubi are cursed with the ability to make their partners experience the best sex of their lives, but we’re also cursed with never being able to experience anything more than sex. We’re also unable to have sex with the same partner more than once.” He lowered his head, until our faces were only a few inches apart. I blamed the loud music and general sardines-in-a-can feel of the club, but a jolt of lust streaked through me. “No emotional connection. No longevity. We fuck someone, and we’re done. Then we look for something else.”

  “That sounds lonely.”

  He jerked away from me. “It is what it is. You can’t change your height. At conception, you were designed to be five foot three.”

  I slugged him in the arm. “I’m five four. Don’t deny me my inch.”

  He grinned. “My point is, you were destined to be short. DNA. You can’t mess with it. But my DNA won’t allow me to form any sort of emotional connection.” He shifted his gaze down to the beer bottle in his hand. “No matter how much we want that to change.”

  “Wait. Are you trying to tell me there are no incubi in loving, mon
ogamous relationships out there?”

  “You sound disappointed, Cat.” I flipped him off, and he sighed. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.”

  I looked back out at the crowd, wondering how I’d feel about that. To only have sex, to have to find a new sexual partner whenever the need arose. Sawyer had to feed and regularly, so he had to blow through at least seven to ten women a week.

  A new song began to play, the beat hitting me in the chest with a primal familiarity. I opened my mouth to say as much when all the air got sucked from my lungs, like a concussive wave had just swept through the club, leaving me gasping for O2. When I could breathe again, I looked around the club to see if anyone else had felt it, but they were all still doing whatever they had been before—drinking, grinding, fucking.

  “Dance with me?” Sawyer asked. I looked at him and noticed his eyes were burning black. I nodded, drained my glass, then placed it on the bar with a shaking hand.

  He led me into the throng of people, and their bodies bumped against me in a seductive wave. The music was drilling through me, making my lower body clench as erotic whips lashed at me. I looked up at the cage to our right, sucking in a breath when I saw a woman getting fucked from behind while getting a cock shoved into her mouth at the same time. Ménage had always been a fantasy of mine, and I touched the swell of my breasts, drawing my hand down lower.

  Sawyer growled low and steady, pressing his body closer to mine, so close that I could feel his erection against my torso. I blinked at him, my head feeling fuzzy and light.

  “Your eyes are black,” I said, staring into them like they held all the answers to life’s greatest mysteries.

  “You’re turned on right now.” His words were a growl.

  I nodded, because he was an incubus and he knew. He knew what my body was doing, how it was reacting, and right now, my pussy was flooding with liquid heat. Swaying my hips, I tried to get even closer to him.

  “We’re in a sex club,” I pointed out.

  Lowering his mouth to my ear, he nipped the lobe, biting down until I gasped in pleasure. “I know. I also know I want to fuck you against the wall right now.”