by Deanna Chase
I frowned, picked up a thick book, never realizing Kemen liked to read and also a little wigged out by the titles. “What’s all this, Kemen?” I asked, waving a copy of The study of Hubris as it relates to Gods, under his nose. “I never knew you to be a religious sorta guy.”
He took the book from my hand and tossed it back to the floor. “Don’t you ever wonder about that stuff? What happens after we kick the big one?”
I hugged my arms to my chest, rubbing my hands up and down. “I try never to think about it.” I looked at him, and saw in his face the raw truth of the pain we all grappled with. Could a thing who’d never had a choice to be good or evil, someday find peace? I shook my head. “No, I never think about it. I never want to know.”
He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. I wasn’t going to ask him if he’d ever contemplated suicide. We all have at some point. Life isn’t fair, it isn’t perfect, but it’s all that’s guaranteed. I’d respect Kemen’s decision to decide for himself; but it would never mean I’d stop caring. I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
He looked at me then, gave a lopsided, half-hearted grin and shook his head. “Of course, Pandora, I know that. I just wonder.”
He stared at the wall over my head and I couldn’t stand it. Not from him. “Would you like me to grab my guitar?”
I don’t know why, I don’t think I’m a particularly good singer, but he’d always loved listening to me. Especially when mired in an existential crises.
“That’d be nice,” he said.
I nodded, ported back to my house, grabbed my guitar and rejoined him a second later. I grabbed the chair from under his computer desk, sat down and started to tune it. “Any requests,” I asked, around the pick in my mouth.
“Three Libras?”
“Ahh yes,” I nodded, taking the guitar pick out of my mouth and gave him a wide grin, “the depressing angst of A Perfect Circle, just what we need to hear on this fine morning.”
He snorted and I started playing. The song wasn’t really designed for an acoustic, but I made it work.
Kemen laced his fingers behind his head and closed his eyes, a semi-formed smile on his lips. His chest rose and fell, his breathing grew longer and more steady. Sloth began to work its magick on me. I had to fight to finish the song, my eyelids felt so heavy, my eyes full of grit and painful to blink.
I’m sure my voice warbled at the end, but somehow I managed to finish. I set the guitar aside and hung my head, pretty sure I could fall asleep right there on the chair.
Kemen cracked an eye open, then patted the bed. “I got room,” he said.
I smiled, because I knew with him this wouldn’t turn into an invitation for more, Kemen understood me in a way others couldn’t. I crawled onto the bed; we shifted around for a bit until we got comfortable.
I laid my head on his big chest, soothed by the sound of his beating heart and slow and steady breathing. He played lazily with my hair and I smiled, snuggling in deeper and inhaling the masculine cool scent of his body.
“Sandman,” I whispered, almost too tired to speak, “I think I love you.”
My cheek vibrated with the rumble of his laughter. “Sleep now, Pandora. I’ll keep you safe.”
I sighed, and tucked myself deeper into his body, my foot played along the length of his calf.
He pressed a gentle kiss on the crown of my head and I slept.
Chapter 15
I woke up to the sound of revelers and the roar of rides. It was darker than a mausoleum and it took me a second to remember where I was. I blinked, turned to look at the clock beside the strange bed. The red number nine blinked back at me almost mockingly.
“Friggin’ hell,” I growled, shot up off the bed and ported to my room. I hadn’t meant to sleep this long. I’d needed to call Grace and ask for entry into the library. Now that would have to wait until tomorrow.
Ugh! I hated oversleeping, it always made me feel one step behind and completely unsettled. I grabbed my most eye catching dress. It was a black, gauzy silk with silver threading throughout. It almost looked like winking diamonds in the right lighting. I pulled the dress on, loving the way it hugged my curves in just the right places. It had spaghetti straps and was cut low in both the front and the back, but the skirt flared out at around mid-calf. I liked to call it high-class hoochie. I raced to my closet, pulled out my favorite pair of midnight indigo stilettos with a four-inch heel, and slipped them on.
When I’d seen them in the store I knew I had to have them, they were made of felt and covered in baby skulls, so cute, and a perfect match for the black and purple streaks of my hair.
I walked to the mirror, ran the brush through my hair until it was a glossy sheen of perfection and then made my way toward my ride. When I got there, I found Kemen covering for me.
“You’re awake,” he said, then his eyes grew wide and he gave a wolf howl.
I snorted and patted his hand. “You should have woken me up.”
“You looked too peaceful, Pandora. You push yourself too hard. Good to rest sometimes.”
“So says the sloth.” I winked and grinned to show him I meant nothing by it. He meant well, no point in quibbling over it.
“So where you goin’ anyway?” He gestured toward my dress. “I know you’re not wearing that just to run this ride.” He paused, then his eyes lit with devilish glee. “Don’t tell me it’s for me. I’m flattered.”
Chuckling, I shook my head. “You wish, Casanova.”
“Can’t fault a man for trying.”
I smiled, took ticket stubs from several pairs of hands and reveled in the attention of both men and women. Ignoring the catcalls from a band of teenage boys, I leaned against my booth after I started the ride.
“I’m headed downtown, got some errands to run.”
Errands meaning Sanguinary, I needed to find out what was going on and it seemed like the logical place to start.
He yawned, covered his mouth with his fist. “Want company?” he finally asked.
“Baby, no insult, but I doubt you could hang with me tonight.” I blew him an air kiss.
“You’re probably right.” He grinned. “I’ve got stuff of my own to do anyway.”
“Wow, Kemen is actually gonna do stuff and not sleep. Will wonders never cease?”
“I might be Sloth, but I’ve got a life too.”
“Yeah, where you going?”
He frowned. The happy mood immediately gone, his eyes had grown haunted and distant, whatever he was thinking it wasn’t pleasant. Remembering those books in his trailer, I grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Kemen, if you ever, ever need to talk, I’m here for you, babe.”
He heaved a huge sigh and shook his head, the smile was back, but it lacked the warmth of earlier. “I know. Take it easy, and look me up if you ever need to sleep again.”
I hugged him. I’m not usually one for shows of emotion, but I felt he needed it. He looked surprised, then pleased, and hugged me back.
“Take it easy, pest,” he said, and then he returned to his empty booth, plunked himself down on the chair and closed his eyes.
~*~
My heels echoed sharply on the streets of downtown, I’d made a quick pit stop at a local library to find out if I could map quest Sanguinary. It’d been closed, but I could see inside the building so I’d been able to port myself in, turn on enough juice to operate a computer—I might not like modern day technology, but I do know how to use it should the need arise. I really didn’t expect to have any luck, figuring that surely they’d hide the address of their club and make it so that only those in the know could find it. But I’d been wrong.
I ground my jaw, trying to count away the burn of anger churning in my belly. I needed a calm head tonight. I wasn’t here to kill, I kept reminding myself.
Walking down the district was surreal, almost like stepping into a clichéd Hollywood slasher flick. If the streetlamps weren’t burnt out, they were flickering a sickly yellow color. It’d been raining
off and on for days now, so the streets were dank, potholes full of brackish water. Several of the buildings I passed were rundown and empty, the windows broken out by vandals or children with too much time on their hands. Even the billboard signs were in a desperate state of disrepair.
The stores that were open were your typical trashy dives. Strip clubs, X-rated theater, questionable bookstores and erotica shops, lights low and wares obvious. This street made me think of Vegas. Definitely could have held its own in sin city. Lust purred, completely in her element.
You’d think on such a cold day, it wouldn’t be busy. But it was. This street hummed with life, most headed in the same direction as myself. Humans mostly, though an occasional Vamp or two among the lot. Those I recognized by the tell-tell pulse. The unfortunate women draped on their arms were dressed to the nines in short black dresses, long hair down and garish “screw me” red lipstick standing out brighter than a neon sign.
I patted my dress, knowing I’d chosen right. Thick smog slithered through the street like a python on the prowl, wrapping foggy tendrils around my legs. I did tell you the vamps were theatrical didn’t I? I wouldn’t put it past them to have hidden fog machines placed at spaced intervals along the way. I rolled my eyes, but pressed on.
I kept to the shadows, waiting for the perfect prey. The men who passed me were all into big, buxom and blonde and the disguise I wanted was something forgettable, yet attractive enough to get me inside.
I heard the club before I ever saw it. The music blared loud enough that the vibrations traveled up the soles of my heels. The haunting, eerily lyrical strain of Type-O Negative filled the alleyway like a siren’s wail. How the cops weren’t here already, as this had to be a serious sound violation, was beyond me.
I scanned the tops of the buildings. I didn’t feel the presence of eyes watching me. How sick is it that in the past few days I’d grown, if not comforted by it, at least accepting of it? It almost felt a little strange not to feel that hot gaze boring down on me.
Finally, I saw the club. Well, the line that rolled into the club at least. I still hadn’t found the right disguise; I couldn’t afford to draw any attention to myself. So I settled against a store front and waited. I wanted to get inside, but I could screw everything up if I jumped the gun. This time, patience was the better part of valor, much as I hated to admit it.
Several minutes passed as I studied the people, looking like some mindless ant colony the way they all trailed toward the club. I continued siphoning information, but none of it worked. These were mostly frat boys out for a good time and all with the same taste. Skinny, cute, tall, willowy, attractive...you see the trend here.
Then it changed. Tall, athletic, gorgeous, male. Gay.
I watched the group of men, laughing, joking around and all projecting lusty thoughts that had nothing to do with women and everything to do with their own sex. They were coifed, good looking, each in their own way. Might have been fun if I’d had more time, I don’t often change myself into a man, but I can. It’s an erotic ride, let me tell you, but again what they wanted was too good looking. So I ignored them and continued my search.
Finally, I found him. He walked with a mixed group of both men and women, but a little outside of them. His head was bent, hands shoved deep into his sports jacket. He was tall, dark, and possibly Hispanic by the tone of his skin. Attractive, but not knock out hot. He wore glasses, but it gave him a sexy Clark Kent vibe. I licked my lips and tagged him as mine. Maybe if I had time later, I’d even feed the beast. Not that I needed to, she was well fed, but he looked like he might be fun.
I became what he wanted, his shameful, dirty little secret. Thankfully I’d worn a dress that could stretch, because I needed the room.
My hips flared out, my breasts grew obscenely large and yet nicely proportioned to my figure. My thighs expanded, tight and firm, but much bigger. My waist grew fuller, curvier. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t slim. I’d become Rubenesque, a voluptuous size sixteen beauty.
I stepped away from the shadow and pushed my glamour at him hard. He looked up almost immediately. The brown of his eyes flamed with sexual arousal. I purred and beckoned him toward me.
“Hey, uh guys,” I heard him say, “I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Aww, Adrian.” A fawnish looking girl, petite brunette, cute, grabbed a hold of his arm. “You’re not leaving are you? You promised me you’d dance.”
He licked his lips, Adrian looked my way again. I rested my leg on the wall behind me and pretended to study my nails, secure in the knowledge that I owned him already. I smiled.
He extricated himself from her. “I will, I just...ugh, forgot something in the car.”
I’ve never understood why it is that people can’t be proud of what they like. Who cares what society says is and isn’t acceptable. So what if I was a little larger than your average girl, I was still hot. I wasn’t gonna hold it against Adrian, but I did pity him.
The girl pouted prettily. “I’ll wait for you.”
He gave a weak smile. “Yeah, sure. See you inside.” He waved the group off, once he was sure they were far enough away, he approached me.
I looked up, giving him my best come hither smile.
The pulse point in his neck kicked into overdrive. I trailed my finger along the curve of his jaw. “Hi.”
He fidgeted nervously with his hair. “You umm...” He was so unsure of himself; it was cute in a pathetic sort of way.
I stepped into him, smelling the woodsy musk of his aftershave. I licked my bottom lip. “Yes?” I asked, hoping to prompt him to speed things up.
His mouth parted, his throat worked hard, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out.
I kissed him. Gentle, a press of lips, then a flick of my tongue. He moaned, mouth opening slightly wider so I could slip inside. He tasted of mint and candy, I writhed on him, which only heightened his desire. His biceps bunched as he squeezed my arms tighter. The rough brick bit in my back. His hands enveloped my breasts. I reached between our bodies and rubbed along the seam of his pants. The thick bulge made me sigh.
And though it was nice and even Lust could appreciate the effort, it lacked the heat I felt with either Luc or Billy. I growled, angry I still couldn’t stop thinking about him, and pulled away sharply.
Adrian’s sighs filled the space between us. His eyes were liquid pools of need. He chuckled, he’d clearly liked what I’d done and yet he kept darting glances around the street, at the passing couples and groups looking our way. Their thoughts visibly scrawled across their faces. What was such a hot piece of man meat doing with a fat something like me?
Anger coiled like a hot sling through my gut. There was no way I could break years worth of indoctrination overnight. I didn’t have that kind of time. And I needed to get inside the club. At our present rate I doubted Adrian would ever offer to take me inside the club. He was a creeper, a man who indulged in his fantasies in the safety of shadow, but would never want to be seen with me in public.
Well too freaking bad. I was about to blow his cover big time.
I wrapped my arm around his neck, forcing him to look me in the eye and slammed him with my will. “Take me to the club,” I whispered, leaning in close and then nipped at his ear.
He trembled, looking terrified, but excited. “But I can’t...”
I bit a little harder. He jerked, then moaned. “Take me to the club,” I said again.
“Yes,” he said in the distinct monotone of one under a thrall. I hated doing this, but honestly what a bastard, I wondered how many poor girls’ hearts he’d broken before. Payback was a cruel mistress and Pandora was her name.
Chapter 16
Once inside, and simply out of spite, I made Adrian introduce me to his friends as the best orgasm he’d ever had. They’d looked on in horror. Especially the little one with the crush. I’d winked at her and said a few cheeseburgers and fries and he’d be her man, then I’d grabbed Adrian drilled him with another
mind bending kiss and dragged him to the floor.
The club was packed, all three floors of it. Every single molecule of space seemed to be taken up. Dancers bumped into us. I stepped on something sticky. I’m not sure what it was and really didn’t want to look, hoping it was liquor and not bodily fluid. But with the way everyone was bumping and grinding, I wouldn’t be in the least bit surprised.
I slapped at Adrian’s hand attempting to snake down the front of my dress. He frowned, still deep in the throes of thrall.
“Get a room,” someone cat called.
I plastered on a tight smile, aggravation riding me hard and turned toward Adrian. “Now, now, play nice. You don’t want to make mama mad, trust me.” I tweaked his nose. The man was entirely too touchy feely. I’d liked him earlier, until he’d pissed me off. Now he was a nuisance I was trying my best to ignore while I studied the room.
There were many vamps, all in varying ages and power. Some recently turned, others long in the tooth. The urge to pounce on one and rip its heart out scraped my nerves raw.
Adrian dug his fingers into my waist and rode my bootylicious backside with his crotch. “Oh, baby, I want to lather you up with baby oil and tap this juicy thing all night long.”
Eww. Seriously? Juicy? There are so many adjectives I could use to describe booty, juicy wasn’t one of them. “I bet you say that to all the girls.” I gave my best air-headed I’m-such-a-lucky-girl giggle.
“But now I really mean it,” he said, leaning his head on my shoulder and nuzzling my neck.
It probably wasn’t nice of me to leave him thralled so long, but I never pretended to be a girl scout. He was going to hate himself come morning. Was it wrong that I was seriously enjoying this?
I turned and draped my arms over his shoulder. “Mmm, really, and maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll let you tie me up and spank me.”
His pupils dilated. You can always peg the S&M junkies, takes one to know one I suppose.
“Can I shove a gag ball in your mouth?” His words came out in a heated rush, his skin grew flush.
“Sure, doll, whatever you want,” I said dryly. Now that I was turned I could keep this form up on my own for a few hours. I needed to scout out the place without leech boy groping me every point five seconds.
