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Damned and Cursed (Book 7): Four Centuries

Page 3

by Glenn Bullion


  "I'm sorry, but I have to ask. What's going to happen if I don't treat humans with the utmost respect? What if I crack one open and drink her up like she's a light beer?"

  Her smile met his own.

  "Then I am going to kill you."

  Playfulness danced in his eyes.

  "You've got a mean hook there, Red. I didn't even know we had claws. But sorry, you don't look like a killer. I will say, you look fine as fuck in those jeans—"

  Victoria reached up and grabbed a handful of trash bag taped to the windows. With one motion, she ripped half of them down, bathing the room in daylight. Tom screamed as the light attacked him. His nearly naked body blistered before his skin caught fire. The flames started at the top of his shoulders and spread quickly, like he was covered in kerosene. He ran across the room, heading for the bathroom, the first shade he saw. He stumbled into the shower, cracking the fiberglass on the way in. His breaths were labored and difficult as he turned on the cold water.

  She casually followed, crossing the hotel room. In the distance, she could hear sirens wailing. Their time was running short. Tom heard nothing, as he was too busy whimpering and listening to his flesh sizzle.

  He lay in the fetal position in the tub. His arms were crossed over his chest as he shivered. Victoria stood in the doorway, blocking the sun. She made sure to grab the pictures left on the floor.

  "How…?" It was all he could say. "How? How…?"

  "You're going to be watched," she said. "You're going to be graded. Please, try to study and pass. The rules really are very simple. Behave. That's all. Now, I have to get going. You'd better hide before this place turns into a circus."

  She settled the purse on her shoulder and left the room, leaving Tom behind to cry. She walked calmly and confidently down the stairwell and through the side exit she spotted earlier. Three police cars were pulling into the hotel parking lot as she was pulling out. An ambulance wasn't far behind.

  It wasn't exactly spending an afternoon at the movie theater, but at least she could cross another item off her to-do list.

  The next time she saw Tom his attitude will have changed, or she would have to drive a wooden stake through his heart and leave him for the sunlight.

  She was prepared either way.

  CHAPTER 2

  Victoria parked in the crowded lot of Tony's exotic club just before midnight. Tony always hated the term strip club, as he felt it was demeaning to his employees. A pink sign hung over the door that read Gentlemen's. A limousine cruised in just behind her Porsche, and she could hear the occupants laughing and cheering inside.

  She was checking her hair in the mirror when the limousine's driver stopped and circled around to open the door. Six men piled out, in various degrees of inebriation. Two of them looked like they'd fall over at any time. She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but that would have been impossible even for a human, given the noise they were making.

  The obvious bachelor party was in full swing. They laughed and reminisced about the previous club they just left. They talked about which dancers were hot, which ones they were interested in, which ones were interested in them, a detailed comparison of various breast sizes. Victoria couldn't say she completely understood the appeal of the exotic club. They were just at a club, and left to go to another. Did the breasts and vagina get stale at the previous one, and the group of men had to seek out fresh female body parts?

  She caught up to the group, despite her best intentions otherwise. Her eyes teared up from the different scents attacking her nose. As they waited in line outside, one of the men noticed her. She'd made a quick stop at home after the hotel, to change out of her bloody clothes into something more appropriate for a thirty-year-old. It wasn't her intention to seduce, but if she happened to catch the eye of a lone mortal wandering Baltimore, she had no problem whatsoever leading him to the shadows and partaking a quick sip.

  Of course, being an attractive woman by herself, she drew the attention of the bachelor party ahead of her. One of them stopped laughing as his eyes fell on her, admiring her. Victoria tried to follow the fashion of the times as best she could, and leggings were the flavor of the moment. A clever way for a woman to show off her figure without trying to seem like she was showing off her figure, and also insanely comfortable at the same time. Her friend Leese also called them yoga pants, although never once did Victoria observe Alex Teague's little sister perform yoga.

  She'd decided on a black pair, stopping mid-calf, with a pair of purple shorts. A black V-neck blouse completed the look, which was enough to get the men whispering. Some admired her brazenly, empowered by liquid courage. The more shy men glanced quickly before their eyes darted elsewhere. The hushed enthusiasm was amusing.

  "Holy shit! Look at the chick behind us."

  "Do you think she works here?"

  "I think she's checking me out."

  "Eh, I don't know. A little pale for me."

  "Oh man. I'd lose my shit if she was grinding on my lap."

  Victoria shifted her personality into that of a young, human woman. She lost the serious expression and smiled playfully. She flirted with body language, popping her hips slightly. The men giggled and swooned. One of them nearly summoned the courage to approach her, but the large man watching the front entrance gestured them forward. He gave them a quick pep talk about minding their manners and having a good time, and promised the groom-to-be some extra attention. They vanished inside, but not before several of them drank in Victoria one more time.

  The door-man's eyes lit up when he turned around.

  "Victoria," he said, a huge grin spreading across his face. "My night just got one thousand times better."

  "And mine, a thousand and one. How you doing, Dave?"

  She disappeared in Dave's arms as the two hugged. Dave was six and a half feet tall, and had to lean over slightly just to rest his chin on top of Victoria's head. She gave him a tight squeeze, just a little too tight, forcing the air out of him. His reaction always made her laugh.

  "Shit, Victoria," he said, backing away a step. "Damn. You always were a strong one."

  "It's all those steroids I take with breakfast. How's the family?"

  "Pretty good. Could be worse, right? Terry's getting a divorce. Again."

  "Ah, really?" It was difficult to contain her sarcasm. "I thought this last one was the one."

  "Victoria, please. He met her while she was sneaking out the window of her boss's house, when the boss's wife pulled into the driveway." He gestured over his shoulder. "You here to see Tony?"

  "Yeah. How is the little scrap-ball doing?"

  "He's good, but stressed. A lot of new ladies he's dealing with. Tell him I need a break soon. And you…you need to come by more often."

  She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "Will do. You take it easy."

  "Always do."

  Victoria stepped inside the club. The place looked the same since the last time she'd stopped in, although the two brass poles on the stage were new. Two women slithered and spun about while music played. She found herself fighting jealousy as she watched them. She had the strength and dexterity of a supernatural being, and couldn't perform a single move they did. One time she tried, and nearly ripped the ceiling down in one of her spare rooms.

  The stage was off to one side, where dancers took turns entertaining the crowd. In the middle was the bar, square-shaped, where men and women drank as dancers gyrated above them. Victoria found an empty stool and squeezed her way through. She smiled at one of the bartenders, a young, busty brunette who dressed liked she was auditioning for the stage.

  Spinning on her stool, Victoria turned her attention to the club, taking it in. She wasn't sure what was more prevalent, clothes or skin. The changing area was actually viewable to the public, off to the side of the stage. Other dancers changed clothes and applied makeup in mirrors. Private booths were in the back, where men and women could pay for personal dances.

  Smiling, she let the memori
es wrap around her, like a cozy blanket. The club held special meaning for her. Her first feeding in Baltimore was with a woman in the very same building, so long ago. Although it wasn't an exotic club back then, but a speak-easy. She fed in the back corner, away from prying eyes, where the private booths were now. In the same spot where she first tasted blood in Baltimore, Victoria's ears picked up a lap dance turning into something more.

  "Excuse me," a voice said behind her. "Excuse me, miss?"

  She turned back to see the busty bartender staring at her. The bartender offered a smile that quickly turned apologetic.

  "I'm so sorry, but we don't charge a cover to get in here. So you have to buy a drink." She lowered her voice. "The owner freaks out if he sees someone without a drink, or not throwing tips around."

  "Oh, okay." She unzipped her purse and pulled out a twenty-dollar bill. "Just give me a water, please. Keep the change."

  The bartender smiled, truly grateful. "Thank you so much."

  She extended the bottle of water, but pulled her arm back. A pair of tan legs strutting by interrupted the transaction. The bartender looked up at the dancer, and seemed to shrink within herself when the dancer glared back. The dancer stopped several patrons away and squatted down to shove her private areas in a man's face, who was only too happy to visually inspect them.

  Victoria watched the interaction, fascinated. She accepted her water, which she had no intention of drinking.

  "I'm Victoria," she offered.

  The bartender was surprised for a moment, looking left and right, before realizing Victoria was speaking to her. The vampire laughed and nodded.

  "Yeah, I'm speaking to you. I'm Victoria. What's your name?"

  "Bree."

  "Hi, Bree. What was all that about?"

  Bree kept her gaze low as she poured a drink for a man behind her.

  "Nothing, really."

  "It didn't look like nothing."

  "It's okay. That was just Michelle, marking her territory. They're the ones the people come to see. My job? Keep the drinks flowing."

  "I hear a little sadness in there."

  "No. I love my job. I do. It's just…sometimes I feel real small, next to the ladies here."

  "There's more to life than having men admire you." Victoria smiled. "I hear there's also chocolate."

  "I know. Let's drink to that."

  Bree poured herself a drink. Victoria wouldn't have cared if she didn't pay, but was impressed when she watched Bree open the register and slide money in for her own drink.

  "To chocolate."

  They clinked their alcohol and water together, and Bree downed her shot. The pair talked for another ten minutes, trading stories and laughing. Bree shared her dreams and goals, which didn't involve pouring drinks behind a bar. She wanted to study nursing. Victoria offered altered versions of her own tales, omitting that they took place over four centuries.

  They were in the middle of watching the members of the bachelor party, nearly falling over themselves. They shoved the groom-to-be on stage, where he received his own personal, public lap dance. The crowed clapped and applauded, and Victoria found herself laughing at the embarrassment on his face. Bree gestured to the unopened bottle, still in Victoria's hand.

  "You haven't touched your water."

  A voice cut in behind her.

  "That doesn't surprise me. Victoria needs something a little stronger than water."

  She spun to see Tony, walking toward her. He laughed heartily, shaking his head at the sight of her. Tony was a tiny man, a complete physical mismatch for his voice. He stood slightly shorter than Victoria. His hair was nearly gone, and he'd decided to beat nature to the punch by shaving his head. Victoria almost reached out for a hug, but then remembered who she was dealing with. Tony didn't hug. Instead, she extended her hand, which he gladly took. He kissed her gently beneath her knuckles, bringing back a time long gone. They drew a few amused glances from the people around them, but those glances quickly returned to the world of flesh. She used to think it was creepy, but she now found it adorable. He first kissed her hand when he was five years old.

  "How are you doing, Victoria? You changed your hair. I like the bangs."

  "Why thank you. A new look every now and then suits a girl."

  He sidled up in the seat next to her and smiled at Bree.

  "Bree, could I get a shot of Bourbon? Thanks."

  Her eyes told a bit of anxiety as she poured the drink.

  "You two…know each other?"

  "We should. She's my partner in this hell-hole."

  Victoria thought Bree was going to pass out.

  "You own the place?"

  "Just a small piece." Victoria held her thumb and index finger an inch apart. "At least it feels small, the way those checks are looking."

  "Ha. Funny. Is Bree treating you okay?"

  "Great," she said, giving Bree a wink. "You hired smart with this one."

  Tony chuckled. "I get one right every now and then." He smiled as Victoria stifled a yawn. "Aww, sleepy? I thought you were supposed to be a night owl. Is the club not entertaining enough?"

  He didn't realize Victoria had changed her sleep cycle. She wasn't only a creature of the night anymore. She chose to sleep with the mortals. But she wouldn't tell Tony that.

  "I've been busy," she offered instead. "I have to go to India in a few days."

  "India? Why?"

  She lowered her gaze. "A friend died, and I'm tying up some loose ends for him. It's the least I can do."

  "Victoria, I'm so sorry." He reached for her hand, which she gently squeezed. She managed a small smile, but the thought of Bradley always brought about a wealth of memories.

  Vampires tended to maintain strong, long relationships with the chosen few other immortals they called friends. Humans came and went, and the world was always changing. But if a vampire was lucky enough to find kinship in another of their kind's company, something special happened. An anchor was formed, a safe harbor. Bradley was Victoria's safe harbor, especially in the ninety years the closest person to her, Jack Kursed, decided to hold a grudge and play the silent game.

  She missed Bradley so much.

  "If there's anything I can do," Tony said. "Please, let me know."

  Leaning forward, she kissed him gently on the cheek. A warm, rather unusual moment, considering not far away an exotic dancer was engaging in the oldest profession, threatening to burst Victoria's ears.

  "Thank you, Tony."

  "I won't waste any more of your time—"

  "You are never a waste of time."

  He nodded and smiled. "Let's go talk in my office."

  The pair rose, but Tony leaned across the bar and gestured for Bree to draw closer.

  "You're doing wonderful," he whispered. "Don't worry about Michelle."

  Victoria smiled. Tony's working life had been an uphill battle. He fought constant stereotypes about the nature of his business. Everyone automatically assumed he was a sleaze-ball. He was always getting pulled in different directions. Managing the bars, settling fights between the women, making people happy. He didn't see everything. But he did care. He treated every single person who worked for him with respect.

  She waved goodbye to Bree and followed Tony across the club. In the distance, she could hear the lap dance with benefits wrapping up in the private booth.

  "I bought this place for your great-grandfather, as a favor to him," Victoria said. "Mortals used to have to say a password, to get to where the alcohol was. You've turned it into this."

  "Hey, give me a break. I can't help it if sex sells."

  She wasn't condemning him, just observing the passage of time and its sense of humor. Although she did laugh shortly at his timing and choice of words. She wondered if he was aware of sex literally selling twenty feet away.

  Tony held the door open for her and closed it behind him. The sounds of the club muffled and dulled. Victoria froze in place and frowned in confusion at the sight before her.

>   Tony's office was typical enough. An old, beat-up desk that had been in the family for decades. A computer, a tiny fridge against the back wall. A monstrous file cabinet was behind the desk. Several personal pictures lined the walls, with friends and family, along with group photos of the dancers. A picture of Tony and Victoria was among them, from ten years ago, when he actually had hair.

  The only thing out of place in the office was the mortal woman, sleeping on a cot in the corner.

  She was young, in her early twenties, with pixie-cut blond hair. She slept covered with only a sheet, her clothes wadded in a ball on the floor. Her skin was pale, paler than it should have been. If it weren't for the scent of mortal Victoria would have mistaken her for a vampire.

  She stirred quietly, moaning from a dream. The sheet fell somewhat, revealing a breast with a pierced nipple. Victoria reached down and covered the young woman up. It was a simple motion, one that made her feel like a grandmother. Rather, at her age, a grandmother with several greats proceeding it.

  While an unusual sight to Victoria, she imagined it wasn't for Tony. He probably kept a cot for the many late days and nights on the job. She also knew he was a caring man, always looking out for others. The occasional mortal so drunk they couldn't walk, or the dancer with the home life they were escaping. She guessed the cot supported many sleeping bodies over time.

  Victoria stood up straight and looked at Tony, waiting for him to get down to business. He said nothing, simply watching the woman sadly. Reading his eyes, Victoria realized the woman on the cot was why she was there.

  "This is Emma," he said. "One of my girls."

  Coming from anyone else, one of my girls might have sounded awkward, but from him it was anything but. There was compassion in his voice, concern in his gaze.

  Victoria said nothing. She approached Emma once again and pulled the shirt down to her waist. Emma had a tattoo of a hummingbird on her hip, and a navel piercing to go with the ones through her nipples. Victoria leaned in close, her nose only inches away from Emma's skin. She sniffed quickly, short and succinct, as she moved up and down Emma's body. The missing sheet brought goosebumps to her skin. Vanilla body lotion. Lavender shampoo. The fading scent of a man. She'd had sex recently. No drugs, no alcohol.

 

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