by David Lee
After a moment, implied threat lingering, Arabella said loud enough to be heard across the dining room now occupied with watching the spectacle, “I have a message from her majesty the Queen for you.”
“Perhaps we should go somewhere more private,” said Jason, indicating the dining room where everyone was staring at them. “I think we’ve provided enough free entertainment for the evening.”
The gentleman at the next table took a sip of what Jesse was sure was blood from his crystal goblet and toasted them, saying, “If you are going to kill the gorgeous Jason, at least do it here where we can all enjoy it with you.” As they stood to follow Jason from the room the patrons began clapping, whether from animosity to Jason or the thought of free entertainment, Jesse couldn’t tell.
Following Jason they entered a bar, which was totally unlike any drinking spot Jesse had ever seen. Where the formal dining room had ceilings to accommodate crystal chandeliers, silk covered walls, plush carpets and linens with crystal and silver, the bar was modern, screaming form is function. The juxtaposition was unsettling at first until Jesse took a moment to look around, then he felt that the room was somehow perfect, that everything in it served its purpose in harmony with every other object. After another moment he thought it might be the most perfect space he’d ever been in.
The bar was a continuous slab of metal polished to a sheen that provided the illusion of depth when Jesse leaned his elbows on it and looked into the reflection, seeing his face several feet down looking up at him. A Vampire covered in a dress made out of what Jesse thought were feathers, wearing high heels with straps wrapped up her legs all the way up under the dress appeared at his side and Jason said, “Take care of my guest while Arabella and I go to my office; provide him with everything he desires.”
Taking her elbow to escort her he turned, attempting to leave. Arabella held her place facing the Vampire and said in that cold and icy voice Jesse had come to register as her ‘I’m going to hurt you if you annoy me tone,’ “I expect to get him back in exactly the same shape, without any wear and tear, understand?” The Vampire dressed in feathers nodded acquiescence.
Watching her cross the room, Jesse was aware of her hips moving in the tight black pants she wore and noticed several of the young Vampires openly ogling her behind. Bird Vampire leaned in and, when he looked, he saw her boob exposed as the front of her dress fell away. Automatically jerking his gaze up to her face, he caught her eyes and was momentarily trapped before she looked away, saying, “Please, don’t tell her that I tried to control you, I wouldn’t want to offend her.”
“My fault,” he replied. “I was trying not to look.” She was impossibly tall, at least six two he guessed, with a mass of real blond hair done the way the old time movie star sex bombs did it, all waves and curls down past her shoulders to the middle of her back. With pale luminescent skin and bright red lips, she was as exotic as a tiger in the backyard; Jesse found it difficult not to stare and admire her as one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen.
“Go ahead,” she said with a smile, “look,” and, resting her hand lightly on his leg, leaned forward, “whatever you desire.”
“Maybe a drink,” he said, enjoying the view but disconcerted by her boldness in the crowded bar and distracted by the thought he could possess this woman., “Where are you from?” he asked, “I mean your accent; I would guess Eastern Europe somewhere.”
“Russia,” she said, turning to the bar, “what would you like?” The back bar was shelved from the counter to the ceiling with opaque Lalique panes, one bottle to the shelf. Jesse didn’t recognize anything and wondered if he should just get a beer, when Bird girl pursed her lips and whispered, “Dalmore Matheson,” and a bartender immediately took down a bottle of brown from a shelf where it stood by itself and presented the label to him for inspection.
“Nice deer head,” said Jesse, admiring the silver stag emblazoned across the label. He didn’t recognize the brand but nodded like he knew what he was doing and watched as the bartender poured a generous two fingers into a short stubby glass. He held the bottle over the glass so that no drops were spilled, then reverently returned the bottle to its spot.
Jesse picked up the glass, which was heavy to the hand, and swirled the liquor till the vapor rose. The alcohol and the peat enveloped his face and he took a deep breath, pulling the fumes in so they rolled thick over his tongue and down his throat and he thought he’d never tasted anything as good as this. He took a small exploratory sip and the straight whiskey burned its way down, with the aftertaste filling his throat and nose. “Don’t suppose I could get a beer back,” he mumbled, relaxing into the moment.
“Of course,” she said, pointing a finger. “This will be a first.”
The bartender returned with an ice cold schooner, a perfect one half inch of foam topping the brew.
“What,” Jesse grinned, “you’ve never seen someone drink a boilermaker?”
“Oh, I’ve seen that,” she said, an evil smirk on her face, “I’ve just never seen anyone pour two dollars’ worth of beer on top of Dalmore whiskey.”
“Watch this,” he said throwing back a shot and following with a pull at the beer. He held up the glass to the bartender who appeared, asking if everything was all right, and poured another two fingers.
“What is this stuff?” he asked when they were alone again.
“Dalmore is a small Scottish distillery,” she said. “What you are drinking is one of twelve bottles laid up in 1943; it sells for 60 a bottle.”
“Sixty bucks for a bottle of whiskey,” he marveled. “Out of my range. Well, I’m going to enjoy it.”
“Sixty thousand,” she said, drawing out the thousand so that her red lips wrapped around the number, “dollars.”
Midway through throwing down the second shot and when he heard the number, Jesse gagged as his throat reflexively closed around the number. He carefully placed the glass back on the coaster and waived the bartender off as he approached with the bottle.
“Are you sure,” asked Bird girl, “when are you ever going to have the opportunity to drink this again?”
“She’s got me pegged,” thought Jesse, as he contemplated the glass and tried to figure out how much he’d had to drink.
“About four thousand I’d say, but no one is counting,” she smirked, laughing at his discomfort. “Arabella gets what she wants down here.”
“One more then,” Jesse said, nodding at the bartender, draining the rest of the beer and standing tall. “Aren’t you having anything, I hate to drink alone,” he said, expansive on Jason’s nickel.
“Thank you for asking,” said Bird Girl, again signaling the bartender.
“What are you serving this evening,” she asked, as the suave bartender appeared. Through the comfortable haze of his third drink, Jesse thought it admirable that he was becoming comfortable with the disconcerting Vampire ability to move so quickly. Giggling to himself he said, “Give her whatever she wants, please,” giving it his best James Bond.
“Of course, Sir,” was the professionally unctuous reply, bowing to Bird Girl.
The bartender handed her a small, custom printed leather menu with “Today’s Vintages” embossed in gold on the leather cover. Bird Girl took a moment to review the listing asking, “Freshest?” The bartender replied by summoning the sommelier, another tuxedo clad Vampire, this one with his thick black hair pulled back into a ponytail, who appeared, saying, “The freshest would be a twenty-two year old female, vegetarian, with the strong physique of an athlete, a volleyball player for a local college; would madam care to inspect?”
After an appraising glance at Jesse, Bird Girl nodded yes, and the sommelier said, “Cellar please” to the bartender, who turned and pulled on a gleaming stainless steel lever embedded in the bar. As the bartender pulled at the lever, the back bar separated along invisible seams, folding back accordion style. The movement brought a palpable pause to the bar as the boisterous crowd silenced and turned to inspec
t the cellar behind the mirrored wall. Jesse could feel the Vampires pressing up against his back as the crowd pushed forward to be as close as possible to the vintages on display.
For it was truly a display. Hanging from high ceilings was a copse of Humans suspended upside down, rather like a fantastic forest grown upside down on some pleasant alien planet. A collective sigh went up from the crowd as the mirrored back bar fully opened and the cellar was revealed.
Each of the Humans’ ankles was tied in an intricate pattern, which Jesse recognized from his vice days as shibari and, indeed, there was a smooth featured, hairless Japanese man of indeterminate age clothed only in a white wrap about his loins sitting impassively on a short three legged stool tending to his charges. Jesse counted eight Humans suspended from the ceiling, five females and three males, four Caucasians, two Asians, a Black, and a Latino. Each was naked and appeared deeply relaxed if not asleep.
Occasionally, the Japanese man would rise from his stool and inspect one or the other, adjusting a knot here, turning that one or just observing. There was an intricate system of pulleys and tracks, rails and ropes that allowed him to effortlessly raise and lower the bodies or to move them in any direction he chose. The bodies bore stamps or writing, the markings looked like hieroglyphics and ran down their torsos in a color he would name red but was quite sure Arabella would identify with exquisite precision as something else, viewing color as if she had a prism behind her eyes dividing light into its spectrum for accurate analysis.
For all the horror of the scene, Jesse found himself fixated on the way the women’s breasts hung down toward their faces with nipples engorged. Equally bizarre to him was the sight of three penises dangling upside down, something he’d never seen and desperately hoped he’d never see again.
As he openly stared, the Japanese man began an intricate shuffling of the bodies, arranging them in a series of moves as formal as a dance and just as graceful. At the conclusion they had a different arrangement in the simple room, but the scene had somehow dramatically changed before his eyes. He found himself admiring the way the maestro had positioned each of the somnolent Humans so that each looked attractive and the whole was harmonious. The crowd gave an appreciative ululation, and the man acknowledged the crowd with a restrained bow communicating his pleasure in presenting his art to such a cultured group as was present that evening. Around him aficionados commented on the relative advantages and deficiencies of potential selections.
The sommelier was chatting up Bird Girl with the merits of the vintages, discussing bodies, dining habits and lifestyles. Finally, they focused on the lithe Caucasian with the long muscled body of an elite athlete. Her long blond hair hung down in an inverted triangle with well-muscled arms framing her face and hair. Her breasts were small and firm and Jesse thought they’d probably look the same if she were standing right side up.
The sommelier nodded to the Japanese man who gently maneuvered her so that she was a few feet away from them, available for close inspection. From around him the crowd commented on her flawless skin, her physique, her beauty, rather like bettors perusing thoroughbreds in the paddock at Del Mar before a race.
“Has madam made a decision?” asked the Sommelier, all polite and suave business now.
“I will go with your recommendation,” she said. “She looks magnificent,” Bird Girl replied with a hint of longing in her voice. “Yes, I would love to taste her.”
The sommelier received the hanging girl from the caretaker and gently pushed her forward onto a connecting series of stainless rods extending over the bar. Earlier Jesse had noticed the metalwork and assumed it was modern art possessed of obscure meaning apparent to Vampire cognoscenti who valued such things.
Maneuvering the girl till she hung directly over Bird Girl, her arms within reach, the Japanese man stood, maintaining dignity in his loincloth. This close, Jesse saw the deep breaths she took and watched as her breasts moved in rhythm. The Vampires had moved back so that he and Bird Girl were in a small semicircle, alone for an intimate moment, with the quiet crowd riveted on the scene. Everyone was aware of the play except for Jesse, and he was spellbound, frozen by the spectacle.
For an insane moment he thought to pull his gun and arrest everyone; although he couldn’t think which laws were being broken, he knew something was wrong. He just couldn’t remember what the code section was for drinking blood. Bird Girl turned towards him murmuring, “your agitation is showing, relax, don’t do anything foolish, remember what Arabella told you.” She placed a gentle hand on his thigh reassuring him all was well.
“What about them?” he said, trying to go big with his command voice but wavering slightly at her gentle touch, “ Are they drugged?”
“No, not drugged, a light trance maintained by the Master. They are fine. You should have their life, pampered and coddled; they are the most prized possessions Underground.”
“Well, that’s the problem,” Jesse growled, “possessions.”
“Volunteers,” she said, “the finest vintages are from volunteers.”
Jesse sat back trying to absorb what was happening in front of him. Arabella had warned him that he would see and experience another world with its own laws and customs, a world that they must navigate to do their duty. A world he must accept if he was to help. When he had protested that he could abide by her rules she had made him take an oath. Patronizing her, he’d gone along with her silly exercise, expedient appeasement; now, the terms of his commitment ricocheted about his skull like a bullet bouncing around the inside of a bell.
“Please behave,” Bird Girl said. “It’s not often that I’m able to savor nourishment this fine and I want to enjoy the moment and her taste.” This last came with a lascivious grin, and Jesse found himself sitting back as the Sommelier took a small knife from his waistband and began to strop it on a leather strap attached to the bar. When he finished, he held the blade up for Bird Girl to inspect. It looked impossibly sharp and thin to Jesse and he wondered if the steel was German made. She took her time, examining the edge from both angles until, “Perfect,” she approved to the sommelier.
The sommelier’s assistant positioned the hanging girl so that she was over Bird Girl, her long muscled arms about even with her face when she stood. The sommelier, with professional ease, felt the arms of the girl, searching with his thumb on the anterior of her offered forearm. Locating the desired spot he made a quick slash that startled Jesse. He knew it was coming but expected a leisurely incision in keeping with the stately pace of the proceedings.
At first, Jesse thought he’d missed, that the skin wasn’t even broken until a thin line of blood appeared across her arm. Bird Girl positioned herself directly under the widening cut, her lips parting in anticipation. A droplet of blood coalesced from the cut and began to roll down the arm.
Unable to restrain herself, Bird Girl arched her back and neck, extending her dainty tongue to touch the drop so that it broke upon her tongue tip, saturating her mouth with rouge. The blood flowed thicker now and she followed the trickle up the arm, her lips and tongue making love as she tasted the girl.
Around them, the Vampires were silent but for the deep breaths they released as she continued to work her way up the arm sampling the taste of the beautiful girl. When she reached the cut she became more aggressive. Her lips covered the cut and Jesse could see the muscles of her neck contract as she sucked at the wound. After an eternity lasting a minute or two, the sommelier and his assistant moved in and gently separated her mouth from the arm.
Bird Girl had the glazed look Jesse had seen all too infrequently, but did not resist beyond reaching with her lips and tongue for the girl. A final drop fell from the cut into her mouth as they returned her to the Master, who applied a poultice to her arm and maneuvered her from the bar through the cellar and out a sliding door, which opened at his approach. The two disappeared into a private space, the back bar slowly closed and the place returned to normal.
Finally, Bird Girl held her
hand up and Jesse could see a drop of blood on her index finger sitting like a dewdrop on a rose. She held her finger above her open mouth so that the last drop fell into her and, putting her hand to her lap, closed her eyes in a moment of personal ecstasy that made Jesse a voyeur for the moment.
When she came back she turned to Jesse asking, “It is so with you and Arabella, yes?”
The confused look on his face was her answer and she gently laughed, saying, “Oh you are virgin, I apologize. You see, when we Vampires make love with a Human, sometimes we enjoy a petit taste of our lover; it is the ultimate joining for us.”
“Well, no,” he stammered, “I’m mean, of course I’m not a virgin,” as manly as he could, while inexplicably feeling like a seventh grader talking to the experienced older woman.
“Of course,” she said softly, looking into his face, “I mean you have not been with her.”
He did not feel possessed by her eyes, as he looked deeper, feeling a great peace and serenity unfold within him. He wanted only to fall into her, to be absorbed in her eyes, bury his face in her hair and touch her body.
“Please, that was very rude of me but it felt very intimate just now with you, and I assumed that she and you had, well, it is none of my business,” her voice broke the spell and he lurched backwards in his seat, almost toppling off to the floor but for her reassuring touch on his arm.
As he turned towards her to find out why she thought he was a virgin, he saw Arabella coming across the room with Jason following close behind her. He felt that he had done something wrong although he wasn’t sure what, and tried to make his face blank like a gang banger at an interrogation. Then he tried to put a smile on his face but couldn’t get the corners of his mouth to turn up; all he could manage was a tight-lipped gash cut straight across his face.
He stole a look into the back bar mirror and thought he looked paralytic so he tried showing some teeth as Arabella said, “You two enjoying yourselves?”
