NYC Vamps: Vampire Romance

by Sky Winters

  His golden eyes flashed with mischief. “That is, until I let everyone know what your adoring Irishman did… or didn’t do.”

  “You wouldn’t,” said Nora, through her teeth.

  “I would and I will. But before that, you’ll be getting a grand sendoff. Which is tonight, lucky for you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Marcus stepped back, smiled, and spin in a circle on his heels. “You like it? I don’t get to dress up as often as I like, so when I do, I like to go, as they say, ‘all out.’”

  He walked back up to Nora, looking at her neck with pinprick eyes. Nora winced in anticipation of a bite.

  “Ah, but not now. Later, though… absolutely.”

  He then stopped in place, as if remembering something. “How could I forget the whole reason I came down here so early!”

  With that, he darted from the room, returning a few minutes later with a beautiful red dress, holding it with delicate fingertips.

  “You like? It’s Chanel. I took the liberty of taking your measurements while you were out; it should be a perfect fit,” he said, hanging the dress on one of the wall’s chain hooks.

  “Now, I am going to unhook you. Do not try any funny business; I’m ten times as strong as you, and I’ve had this room looked over to make sure there’s nothing anyone could use to get the drop on me. And believe me, you’re not the first little snack that I’ve kept in here.”

  Reaching behind Nora, he undid he chains. When he took off the last one, Nora collapsed onto the floor in a heap.

  “So, take the dress and go to the bathroom down the hall and make yourself presentable,” Marcus said, starting for the door. “Be ready in no more than an hour. You’re the guest of honor tonight,” he said, slipping out of the door and leaving it open.

  Nora heard another, heavier, door opening in the hallway, then closing with a heavy clank followed by the sound of a latch fastening into place.

  Pressing her palms against the cool floor, Nora raised herself to her feet. As soon as she stood, she reached to her ear with a frantic hand and dialed down her hearing aid. Looking at her belly, that same colorful emanation was visible. She sighed with relief, knowing that her baby still lived, despite her trauma.

  She cast an eye at the dress on the wall. It was beautiful, but Nora was hardly in the mood to play dress-up. Looking around the room, she saw that Marcus was right about there being nothing here to help her escape; it was bare walls aside from the chains. Even the lights were recessed into the ceiling.

  With nothing else to do, she took the dress from the hook, draping the soft, fine fabric over her arm and leaving the room that she had been trapped in for however long.

  The room led to a small hallway, with a heavy metal door on one end, and another room down the other end, the door opened a crack, spilling white lighting into the otherwise dark space. Nora approached the room and pushed open the door, revealing a simple, unadorned bathroom lit with hollow, thin light.

  She hung the dress up on a small rack in the corner, and when she approached the sink, saw that there was a small note folded in half and propped up.

  Makeup is in the drawer, and some perfume, and some unmentionables. Pretty yourself up like you mean it, because you won’t like what happens if you don’t!

  The note was signed with an ‘M’ written in ostentatious and ornate style.

  Nora stripped down and jumped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away some of the disgust from the events that she had been subjected to. After some time had passed, she turned off the water, got out and dried off. Pulling open the drawer, she saw that inside was a simple selection of makeup, a small bottle of perfume, and a lacy underwear set.

  Not exactly in the mood, but not like I have any other options.

  After putting on the underwear, she removed the dress from its place and dropped it over her body, the delicate fabric feeling heavenly and plush against her clean skin. Turning around to zip up the back, she couldn’t help but admire how it looked.

  He’s a pretty tacky fucker, but I gotta give it to him on this one. He must’ve had someone else pick it out.

  She spent a little time putting on the makeup, but found that no matter how subtle she tried to be with it, the deep red of the lipstick and deep blue of the eye shadow couldn’t help but make her look more like a prostitute than she wanted. Putting up her hair in a simple braid, she noticed a pair of coal-black stiletto pumps sitting near the door.

  These were definitely a Marcus pick. She shook her head.

  Otherwise all dressed, she stepped into the shoes, then out into the hallway. Through the floor, she could hear the creaking of many feet walking above her, as well as the gentle strains of a classical music quartet. Some kind of gathering was going on upstairs, and Nora figured that it’s where she was expected.

  She approached the massive, metal door and raised her hand, preparing to knock, when a beep emitted and the door opened with a thunk. She stepped forward, unsure of what to expect beyond.

  Chapter 17

  A stairway was revealed, going straight up and leading to a visible square of the floor above, filled with warm light and groups of men in elegant suits holding drinks and chatting. But once they noticed Nora, their attention was shifted, and they began gesturing toward her as she approached and talking in lively tones.

  She walked up the steps, a crowd of men now gathered around the entry. Then Marcus slid into view, and began beckoning her with lively scoops of his hands. “Come, child; we’re all waiting for you!” he said, his face bright with anticipation.

  Nora made the last few steps with trepidation, her heels clicking against the wood. When she finally stepped into the expanse of the apartment, her eyes squinted in the bright light, and she felt overwhelmed by the dozens of men around her. Marcus extended his hand, and, out of polite instinct, Nora took it. Marcus responded by wrapping his cool, spindly fingers around the meat of her hand, and a wave of something like nausea rushed through her.

  Nora came to her senses, and when she did, the first thing she noticed was how garish and over-the-top the styling of the apartment was, not to mention personal styles of the men gathered within. The room, like Kieran’s, was a wide-open space, but where Kieran’s place was a monument to minimalist class, Marcus’s apartment was more like Versailles if it were designed by interior decorators on Adderall. Gold abounded, along with mirrored walls and ornate molding and columns. Art of nude men and women was placed here and there, and portraits of foppish men in flamboyant clothing hung on the walls. The men, all with a cocktail glass or champagne flute in hand, were all in flashy, expensive-looking clothing, like Marcus, and their hair and beards were almost uniformly slicked and oiled. They looked at Nora with hungry eyes as she ascended the stairs.

  “Gentlemen, gentlemen, may I have your attention?” called out Marcus, flapping a hand at the string quartet, which resulted in their silence. “Our guest of the evening has arrived, and, ah, just look at her.”

  Marcus extended a hand toward Nora, and the crowd erupted with ‘ohs’ and ‘ahs.’ Nora crossed her arms across her chest and lowered her head; she didn’t want a single bit of the attention that she was receiving.

  “Oh, it appears our Irish lily is of the wilting sort,” he said, making an exaggerated frown. “That simply won’t do at all.”

  He then snapped, and two men like those Nora saw at the auction house appeared from the crowd. They moved to her sides, and each of them grabbed an upper-arm with a firm, tight grasp.

  “Into the honored guest’s chair with her,” Marcus said with another flick of his wrist.

  A section of the crowd spread apart, revealing a massive, ornate throne set in front of a towering, roaring fireplace. The men dragged Nora toward it, shoving her down onto the plush seat. They each then removed scarves of red silk from their pockets and tied Nora’s arms and legs into the chair. Marcus then stepped forward, a scarf of gold and red in his hand and prepared t
o tie it around Nora’s mouth. But at the last moment, he hesitated.

  “You know what? I am thinking your screams will provide a nice little counter-melody to our little quartet,” he said, stuffing the scarf back into his pocket.

  He then turned to the crowd. “Gentlemen! Our buffet is nearly ready. But, I am trying to remember who had the special privilege of first feeding.” Marcus’s eyes searched the crowd.

  “It was I, young man,” called out a deep, firm voice.

  “Ah, Signore Moretti,” said Marcus to the white-haired, suited man who appeared, in human years, to be around sixty-five. “What an honor to have you and the rest of the elders here with us tonight.”

  He swept his hand in toward Nora. “Then let the feast begin!” Marcus said, gesturing toward the quartet, who leaped into frenzied song.

  Moretti moved toward Nora, who was now gripped with fear. His eyes burned with animal intensity, and his mouth, now wide open, two fangs springing from the top row of teeth, his fingers waggling at the ends of his outstretched arms. Nora winced her eyes shut as he grew closer, as she began to feel his hot breath against her neck. She prepared for the bite that was to come.

  Then a loud crash sounded through the apartment.

  Nora looked up, and saw that one of the massive, glass windows of the apartment had been shattered, and in the open space was Kieran, hovering in midair, the evening wind blowing his hair around his face, and the sliver of moon like a blade in the night sky behind him. Even from where Nora sat, she could see the expression of fury on his face, as though he were wreathed in fire.

  The crowd burst into gasps and the quartet ceased their playing.

  “Let her go. Now,” Kieran called out, his voice booming through the expanse of the apartment.

  “Kieran!” said Marcus, walking toward him. “Welcome to my little partito! I must say, I was not expecting you, nor was I expecting anyone to arrive using a manner of entry other than the door, but I suppose you are welcome nonetheless.”

  Kieran swooped down and landed, the crowd spreading outward and away from him as he descended.

  “Marcus! Who the hell is this man?” called out Mr. Moretti.

  “No one,” he said, not appearing to be flustered, “just some Hell’s Kitchen trash.”

  “Kieran,” Marcus said, yelling up to him, “come down from there and let’s have a little chat, no?”

  Nora watched Kieran as he continued scanning the crowd. But before he could respond to Marcus’s request, Mr. Moretti spun back around to Nora, his face twisted with animal hunger. His mouth wide-open and fangs glistening like ivory-white blade points, he threw back his head to feast on Nora.

  At least, he tried.

  All Nora saw was a blur from where Kieran flew, appearing next to Mr. Moretti with incredible speed, grabbing his arm by the wrist and yanking the hand off with a twist followed by a sickening rip. Mr. Moretti’s face was still painted with hunger when he realized what had happened, but once he noticed that his hand was missing, his hunger was replaced by horror. He looked at the space where his hand once was, a look of shock on his face for a beat, then let out a low scream while clenching his wrist with the hand that remained.

  Marcus dashed in and looked over the scene with wide eyes. “Kieran! What the hell have you done? Do you know who this man is?”

  Kieran ignored both Marcus and the man he had just maimed, and moved in closer to Nora.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone deep and concerned.

  “How… how did you know I was here?” she asked as he ripped apart the scarves that restrained her to the chair.

  “I… don’t know. I heard you call out to me, in my mind. And I just knew, somehow, that I’d find you here,” he said, helping Nora to her feet.

  “Kieran! You insane man!” shouted Marcus as two of the guards took Mr. Moretti from the room. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done here tonight!”

  “Step aside, let us leave, and no one else has to get hurt,” said Kieran, with Nora leaning on him for support.

  Marcus responded with a hysterical, wild-eyed cackle, the men of the party standing behind him, shocked, waiting for whatever was to happen next.

  “You think you can just break into my home, steal my property, assault one of our society’s elders, and then just leave? No, my friend, you are not going to be doing anything like leaving tonight.”

  With that, he flicked his hand toward Kieran, and two of the suited men rushed toward them.

  Kieran pushed Nora behind him, back into the chair, and readied himself for the guards. One attempted to grab his arms, while the other pulled a slim, silver stiletto-shaped blade from the inside of his coat pocket.

  What is that? Nora’s thoughts were rushed and frantic as she watched the man lunge toward Kieran’s chest with the blade.

  Kieran shook off the first guard and stepped to the side in a deft motion. The guard with the blade continued his thrust, but instead of stabbing Kieran, the blade penetrated the chest of the other guard. The guard only reacted for a moment, looking at the protruding blade with an expression of surprise before his entire body exploded into coal-black ash.

  The other guard looked at his partner’s remains, then back at Kieran, then at Marcus. A sharp gasp arose from the crowd. The guard was still for a moment before rushing out of the room.

  “You motherfucker!” shouted Marcus, darting for the blade that glimmered amidst the pile of ashes.

  He snatched it up and pointed it toward Kieran, his stance awkward and his arm crooked at the wrist, as though the blade and his arm were a strange approximation of a scorpion’s tale.

  “This is madness, Kieran! You think this bitch is worth killing your own kind?” he scoffed and tossed his hair from his face. “I always knew you had a soft spot for the cattle. But you should know that such sentimentality is a liability in our world. And now you will learn.”

  With that, he lunged toward Kieran, who sided-stepped out of the way. Marcus stumbled for a moment before recomposing himself. He looked at Kieran, who stood like an immovable pillar across from him, and realized that he was outmatched. After shooting a brief, side-eyed look took toward Nora, he extended his hand, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her into close to him. Wrapping his arm around her chest, he pressed the blade against the curve of her jugular.

  “Okay, enough of this!” he shouted, moving backward through the crowd, toward the broken window of the balcony, still howling with wind. “I take the girl, we leave, and we figure this all out later. There is nothing here that can’t be looked past.”

  Anger surged through Kieran. As Marcus stepped back, he closed the distance with each step.

  “No. You let her go, we both leave, and I give you a quick death for what you’ve done to her,” said Kieran, his voice a growl.

  “Ha! I am afraid that is not going to work,” Marcus said, stepping with Nora through the broken glass and onto the balcony, their feet crunching over the shattered window. “I will leave you to the crowd!” he said, yelling over the wind.

  Kieran. Look at me if you can hear me. Nora focused her words in her mind.

  Kieran heard Nora’s voice in his mind with perfect clarity, and looked toward Nora with surprise.

  When I give the signal, kill him.

  Kieran’s face steeled. He was perplexed by this, by hearing Nora’s voice in her head as he had before, but braced for the next move.

  It came seconds later.

  Nora clasped her hands together, extended them away from her body, and drove her elbows into Marcus’s stomach. He half-collapsed from the impact, the air rushing from his lungs with a deep “oof.” Nora took advantage of the distraction to break free from Marcus and run toward Kieran, who then dashed toward Marcus, struck him in the throat with a quick jab, and wrested the blade from his hand. Closing his fingers around it, he pressed the pointed end against the ivory flesh of Marcus’s throat.

  Then, with a sharp, firm stab, he shoved the blade up, through
Marcus’ skull.

  Marcus had a split second to see what had happened, then looked at Kieran, a murderous fire burning in his eyes.

  “You… you fucker!” he said, before exploding into ash.

  Kieran stepped away from where the form of Marcus’ stood, and Nora ran to him. He wrapped her in his right arm as they watched the ash that was once Marcus swirl and dissipate into the cool, evening wind.

  Kieran and Nora turned, and faced the crowd of men, all shocked into silence by what they had just witnessed.

  “I think this is our cue to leave,” said Kieran, wrapping his arm even tighter around Nora’s waist.

  “I’m ready when you are,” she said, grabbing onto this arms.

  And with that, he lifted off, carrying Nora up and off, swooping through the air like a bird of prey.

  Chapter 18

  Kieran’s lips were wet and warm on her neck as he kissed her. His hands moved down, from her breasts to the soft curves of her hips, and she shuddered with pleasure as he moved inside of her. Nora let her body fall deep into the soft blankets that she lay upon, and moved her fingertips along the sweat-sheened skin of Kieran’s back.

  “I’m so happy to see you again,” Nora said in between pleasured gasps.

  “We don’t have to be apart ever again,” he said, thrusting his hips to a slow, deep rhythm.

  Nora closed her eyes, feeling Kieran’s cock slide up and into her. She felt more sensitive to her touch than ever, and each press of his hard stomach against hers was like heaven.

  The bedroom window was open, and as the soft wind blew the curtains would dance, letting in moonlight that glowed in slivers across their bodies. They moved together in unison, their palms seeking different parts of their bodies. Nora felt Kieran move in her at a faster pace and slid her hands down the small of his back until they came to a rest on his ass. Grabbing the bottoms of his cheeks she squeezed, the feel of his skin heating her with arousal. He responded in kind, moving his hands out from under her back and resting them on the bones of her hips, holding them in a firm grasp as he thrust harder and harder.