Snow Covered Moon

by L M Adams

  I have small diamonds scattered on my body embedded in normal looking jewelry that hides me from the Kindred. It had taken the strongest Magi of my generation to cast and bond the spell. Diamond earrings at the top of my ears, ankle bracelet with small dangling diamonds and the largest chunk of the once, whole fist sized diamond, in the pommel of the knife I keep strapped to my thigh. I never leave home without it, for more reasons than I want to cut someone up every night. The spell works with only one or two pieces on my body somewhere, but it works best with all of the pieces within a four foot radius of my body. See? I’m not crazy for taking my knife into the shower with me, I’m just being careful.

  The hallway lets out into a large room; small tables are placed strategically around a stage that runs along the back wall with a small strip of stage up the middle. It has poles in a few places. Because of course, what’s a strip joint without a pole or two?

  On the left side of the room sit booths with sheer curtains to provide discrete private dances if you have the money and the inclination. There’s a large bar running on the right side of the wall. That is where I usually sit.

  A set must have just ended; dancers, ladies and gentlemen of the night are walking around working the crowd. It smells really good in here, cinnamon and dark chocolate, yeah vampire. Each race has a distinct smell under their personal scents. It was one of the reasons I’d picked up the disgusting smoking habit. Me smoking cigarettes helps mask my scent from other supernaturals. Now I’m addicted to nicotine, or maybe just addicted to the habit of smoking. Bully for me.

  “Let’s get a beer,” I whisper.

  I’ll have to find a way to ditch Peter for a moment or two so I can talk to the Madame. I don’t want her seeking me out first. It will put me on the defensive, in front of a human; yeah, that won’t work. We have a conversation every time I come here; there is no way I’m getting out of it. Picking the when it would happen is like picking my own switch from a tree. It’s the best I’m getting out of a bad situation.

  “Sure.” He answers me absent-mindedly, already scanning the crowd for Johnson. People are moving about in groups or pairs. Almost everyone is drunk, or high on something. Not my business, I tend not to judge.

  I can tell the employees easily. Aside from most of them being vampires, they’re all in some sort of partial undress. Luscious breast and half engorged dicks are everywhere. I take a shaky breath; bad idea Jae, bad idea.

  “I’m surprised you guys can afford this place on your salary,” I mumble trying to distract myself.

  “Johnson can’t.” Letting me know with what he hadn’t said that Peter could, and does, spend money here. Although, maybe he doesn’t buy the hookers. They have to be pricey.

  The bartender is a vamp, of course. He is quite a bit more powerful than the bouncer, not a crow then, a pure blood vampire. I can almost feel his power pulsate and beat against my skin; he’s doing little to hide the enormity of it. His alabaster skin almost glows with power. I lick my lips. I haven’t seen him before. He looks good, as all vampires do. I’ve always wondered why, but thought it would be impolite to ask. I know it isn’t glamour.

  He has on a black tank top tucked into some tight leather pants hanging low around his waist. Dark brown hair with blonde highlights, bone straight, but with body like he uses that expensive shampoo. It’s a little long, but not enough for a pony tail. He must have either just cut it or is just growing it out, he’s constantly pushing it away from his face as he goes about filling orders. The flustered sexy look works on him.

  My eyes drift down to his crotch area, no underwear and a semi, nice. Fuck, I need to get laid. And he’s out of my price range. With that thought, I shake myself and catch his eye. He has gorgeous, deep, midnight blue eyes, flashing dark silver. Graphite; like someone melted a precious metal, mixed the blue of the ocean at night and shaped it to make it his eyes. They widen just a little as he looks at me. I clear my throat and order two beers with two shots of their cheapest vodka. It still won’t be as cheap as I need it to be. I’m glad Peter is buying; I have a shit job. I’m always walking around in a constant state of Just Over Broke; that’s the true definition of J-O-B.

  He comes over, popping the tops off the two beers and handing them to me. I lean over the bar close to his neck, I mean ear, neck. Goddess, he smells good. Something low in my body tightens as he draws even closer to me. He would be delicious. My nipples tighten harshly. I know he can hear me but he closes in that little distance. I can’t help myself, I kiss him on the neck right where his pulse beats so steady, so slowly, far too slow to be a human heartbeat.

  My senses flood with cinnamon and dark chocolate as he reacts to me. I pull back just a little; looking down, I see his semi has gone full blown and the thought of being on my knees behind that bar floods my mind the image so strong I feel the hard tiled floor behind the bar make my knees ache. I pull back immediately. That isn’t my fantasy it’s his, his desire. Being a succubus sucks ass sometimes, especially when I can pick up on someone’s desires like this.

  “Tell Madame I’d like to see her, if she’s available,” my voice is deep and full of promise. I hope my eyes aren’t glowing purple. I should’ve never come here.

  I look at the bartender. His eyes are dilating, but instead of his eyes going blackish red like any normal vampire caught in the throes of blood lust, his shine silver, fangs coming down to say hello. My own smaller version slip down to say hello back. I look at him and just know I’m meant to have him. With a surety in my bones, I know he belongs in my bed. If he’s available, and the Madame is willing to give me credit, I’ll take him tonight. I’ll pick up some extra shifts at the convenience store to pay for it. Tonight is the night Jaevia Knightley gets laid.

  “Yes Jae,” he says, knowing my name even though I’m sure I haven’t told him. He hurries from behind the bar.

  Damn it, he forgot my vodka.

  I turn back to Peter after quickly making sure my eyes aren’t glowing in the large mirror behind the bar. I’d forgotten he is here and that my ass has been sitting up in the air while I play kissy face with the vampire barkeep. I take out the hair tie holding my pony tail and shake my hair down to hide my face and hand him a beer.

  “You need to get laid Jae,” Peter grunts and takes a sip of his beer.

  “You don’t fucking say?” It’s going to take me a lot not to squirm on this bar seat.

  I have to get control; my arousal will affect everyone around me. The Secret would have its best sales in history if I let my power loose, my caged desire. Another act is starting I don’t want to watch, I need no more help in the arousal department. But I can’t seem to turn my eyes away from the stage.

  An electric bass guitar comes on, eerie and lonely as it hit its notes. All the lights go out, casting us harshly into the dark. A haunted voice comes over the speakers; the woman’s voice is vocalizing, all the chatter in the room stops. Soft blue lights come on at the stage and as the heavy bass line thrums through the room fire actually sprouts from the stage. The cheers are deafening as she comes on.

  Madame Valentine, my own throat tightens seeing her move. Black lace body suit so tight it looks like it’s painted on. Heels so high I know I can’t walk in them, let alone saunter up the strip of stage that comes up the middle of the room. Asian descent, she’s short without the heels, although I’ve never seen her without a pair on. Even with them on she only comes to my chin. Her breasts are small but full, a really nice B cup. Thin waist and a small flair of hips complete her package. It isn’t the size of her breasts or her thin waist that attracts you; it’s how she moves that wraps you into her web. Every movement meant to seduce, vampires hunt like a Venus fly trap; it’s pretty until you get too close, then shit gets ugly, really quickly. By the time you realize what’s happening it’s already too late.

  She isn’t trying to sell it. She already knows you want to buy it. She’s just letting you know what you could never afford. Even if I was straight, which I’m not,
I’d be bisexual for her.

  She grabs the center pole and swings around it slowly. She climbs to the top of it and wraps her small thighs around the pole, gripping it tightly. As she spins descending on the pole, arms flung wide hair swinging, my breath hitches. I’ve never seen the woman dance; somehow I know this show is for me. The lyrics of the song beat through me, setting my nerve endings on fire.

  Taking my time

  You will be mine

  My blood calls to you

  Why fight destiny

  I will soothe the ache

  Let me ease the pain

  Let me finally own you

  I make some noise between a grunt and a moan in my throat. My body pulses in time with the music, calling to her, reaching for her. Willpower alone makes me scoot from the bar stool. I’m thankful that Peter isn’t unaffected. His own trance makes it easy for me to mumble something about the bathroom. I turn and beat a path to the restroom. My palms slam open the door beside the bar, leading a hallway that holds the entrance to both male and female restrooms as well as a staff-only door.

  Chapter Three

  Gonna get you sucka

  I breathe harshly in the hallway doubling over, hands on my knees, doing everything I can not to fall over, or run back out there and fuck the woman on the stage. Both options instill about the same amount of mortification.

  Goddess please, I close my eyes praying for peace. I haven’t been with anyone in almost a year. Being a celibate succubus is not an easy job. I turn and punch my fist through the plaster wall, screaming. Frustrated sobs rack my body, but just like my lust, I refuse to let them escape.

  “She’ll see you after her number,” a low, husky voice speaks quietly behind me.

  I turn to see the oh so sexy vampire barkeep coming towards me; where the fuck had he come from? He still has his full blown hard on, although, his eyes aren’t dilated silver and his are fangs gone. His movements are so fast I can barely see him. He’s edged into that creepy vampire speed. Even with all my daemon skills I won’t be able to match him, especially with my Chi being empty like it is, no sex means no power. My hand slips down to the blade still strapped to my thigh. Holy objects don’t work; the only thing that keeps the uglies from hurting you is you killing them first.

  “Don’t make me harm you,” I say slowly and evenly, turning to face him.

  He laughs a hurt, wicked laugh. So fast, he’s in front of me both his arms on either side of my head, his palms braced on the wall. I have to look up at him. He’s pressing into me trying to intimidate me. Maybe I’m not fast enough to get away. But I’m fast enough to pull my blade. I do just that, holding the silver point right under his chin. The blade so close to splitting his skin open it makes my heart race with anticipation. He doesn’t move an inch.

  “I want you, you want me,” he says as his dark blue graphite eyes going silver in a blink and his fangs coming down again.

  They don’t snap out quickly, not like before, rather it’s slow and deliberate. Watching his canines extend from his gums I feel my body respond to him again. Danger and sex all in one, perfect fucking Jae candy. I inhale the smell of cinnamon and dark chocolate. Yeah I want him, but I don’t need him throwing it in my face.

  “I can’t afford you,” I say snidely, putting pressure behind my blade drawing a drop of blood. I lick my lips at the sight of it. I’ve never fed as a vamp, never drank blood, ever. Doesn’t mean there isn’t something inside of me that thinks it would be just a fabulous idea to try it, however.

  His nose flairs and I know he can smell my arousal, the scent of citrus pouring from me. I can’t really hide the way I feel, which pisses me off even more. No one is allowed to know my emotions unless I choose for them to know. Fucking vamps, fucking bar, fucking succubus blood; I should’ve never come here.

  “Free of charge, no questions asked,” he breathes out above me. I feel his arousal pressing into me. I’d like to say I don’t grind my hips against him, but that would be a lie and I promised to never lie to myself again.

  I may have been able to walk away from him if he’d done anything other than lean in to kiss me. His lips on mine send small shocks of pleasure through me. I moan against him when I feel him open his mouth and probe me with his tongue. I feel myself lower the blade. He even tastes like chocolate and cinnamon. There is true art in French kissing a vampire while their razor sharp fangs are down and I’m an expert.

  He pulls back and spins me so I face the wall, he’s pressing against my ass with his very nicely sized cock. I’m trapped and I moan at the feeling of his hand over my breast pinching my nipple through the cotton of the T-shirt and my bra. It’s on the edge of pleasure and pain. This is the most I’ve been touched in almost a year. An abstinent succubus; who’s ever heard of such a thing?

  I can’t move, I don’t want to move. He starts kissing my neck and I feel his teeth so close to breaking my skin. I lean my head a little to the side, giving him better access. I grind my ass against him. I want the clothes off now I want to feel him slipping inside of me. I want so very many things.

  “Say yes, that’s all you have to say. One word and I will give you a night you’ll never forget; one word Jae, give me that word, now.” His harsh whisper demands as his hand moves to the button on my jeans.

  I think that stirs something deep inside of me. I won’t be beholden to the vampires. Nothing is free; questions are always asked. If I do not pay for this night then I will owe him something. Sooner or later, he will come to collect.

  I turn, pushing him away and letting my power unleash. Sex? I am sex, passion and lust and I will drown him in it, I have tons. I know my eyes are glowing deep purple as I watch him writhe on the floor caught in the ecstasy that is me. He makes a move to free himself from the tight leather pants.

  “Don’t!” My voice is harsh and cruel as I flood him again. His screams are drowned out by the music in the club. The deep heavy bass beating in time with my heart, it becomes the backdrop of his tortured screams.

  “On your knees,” I ebb the flow of power enough to let him manage the task. He moves slowly. It hurts to move, I know. The fabric of his clothing rubbing on his skin is a type of torture now, all of it incites the raging fire of lust that burns within him.

  “Mistress please, don’t leave me like this,” he begs as he falls forward onto his hands. His fingers actually dig into the carpet so deep I know he’s put holes in the floor beneath it.

  I fear clear headed suddenly, like I’m finally awake again and everything from the moment I left Peter’s side to now was nothing but a dream. I was caught in his web.

  “Did you… did you just try to vampire mind fuck me?!” I yell in outrage, realizing I’d been the victim of some good old fashioned mind raping. Vampiric hypnotism officially. How dare he?!

  “How dare you!” I yell enraged.

  I flood him with lust again, coating his skin in my essence making the current from me pull him under. He screams as power burns through his synapses, every cell of his body is vibrating with energy and lust.

  Something in me knows this is wrong. Vampires are what they are. If I’m not strong enough to stand against their power, then I have no business in their clutch in the first place.

  He isn’t absolutely wrong, and I’m not absolutely right. I’ve known people to go crazy from too much succubus essence and so I ebb the flow again.

  “You are not on your knees as I ordered. I can make this better. Or I can make it worse, much worse.” My inner succubus moans at the sight of him on his knees, a slave to our power.

  Somewhere deep, in the dark corners of my heart, I hope he fights me so that I can torture him more, hurt him more, taste his screams of agony on my tongue like a rare wine. He’s taking small breaths trying to calm himself. It won’t work. Only one thing will work at this point - having me, having someone. Now here comes the guilt to push away the rage and desire, because good people don’t wish for these kinds of things. Good people don’t look for excus
es to torture other people.

  I blow out a breath. “It will pass…” I pause, now realizing I don’t even know his name. Was I about to do the nasty in the hallway of a strip club/whorehouse with a guy whose name I don’t even know? Oh my god.

  I take a deep breath. “What’s your name?”

  “Capaneus Nicholas Jackson de la Fontaine; most people call me Jack, Mistress” he shudders as an aftershock of my magic hits him. I know the feeling; I’d been at the mercy of a full blooded succubus before. I huff, feeling like a complete shit. I invited him, played kissy face. He answered the invitation and now I’m punishing him for it? Sure, him using vampiric hypnotism wasn’t exactly ‘fair’, but me spilling essence everywhere I walk isn’t exactly fair either.

  I find myself repeating, “It’ll pass Jack. Call your girlfriend or boyfriend; you guys will have a great night tonight. And please stop calling me Mistress. I’m no one’s Mistress.”

  “Yes Jaevia.” He responds so quickly I know he only switched mistress for my name but the sentiment is the same. We own him.

  I sigh.

  “I don’t have a girlfriend Mis… Jaevia. I belong to you. The Madam gave me to you to do with as you wish, for however long you wish. It was an insult for me to lose control at the bar in the presence of humans, and she feels it would be justice for you to punish me, since it was you I lost control over.” He rushes out.

  Just to think when I woke up this morning. I could have never imagined my day would turn out like this. It is the Kindred’s way to take slaves, usually supernaturals and the occasional human to be punished after being found guilty of some offense or another. And it is an offense to run the risk of a human seeing his true form. The Kindred would not usually be involved with something so petty unless the problem became widespread.

  The punishment of Jack should fall to his Mistress. Only, I’d been there when the offense had taken place; it is my duty as Kindred to see him punished for the offense.