Sin City Vampire Club

by Kristen Strassel

  “The bed.” I didn’t have to tell anyone twice. Blade lifted me like I weighed nothing, and neither he nor Rainey could let go of me on the short trip to the bedroom. We shed our clothes in silence, no holding back for anyone.

  I’d never been so terrified in my life.

  I scooted back on the mattress. My clothes had burned off in front of thousands of people every night while I was at Cirque Macabre, and I aimed to add a television audience to that number. But I’d never been more exposed than this moment. I hadn’t expected to be the one to lose in this arrangement. I’d have to say goodbye to one of them. All along I thought I’d been the selfish one for refusing to make a decision. Time, which had never been my friend, would tell if an angel or a vampire punished me for my sins.

  Rainey attempted to cover herself with her arms, but it didn’t work. The swell of her breasts was still visible, and the curve of her belly. Blade had fully healed from the attacks he suffered at the jail, and his firm chest was covered with a dusting of hair that drew my gaze downward. I didn’t deserve to be surrounded by such beauty.

  She nodded to Blade. Not only were they working toward the same goal, they choreographed their routine. He crawled onto the bed, his lips skimming my body, only the tips of his beard made contact with my skin. It was a rare occasion that Blade Bennett made me shiver. His nose bumped against mine, breaking the spell, until I looked into those incredible eyes. The blue danced in the light, the tips of the flame that roared inside him.

  I snaked my fingers through his hair, bringing his mouth to mine. Time played the same joke it had played on me all my life. I opened my eyes and I saw us on our first date, running into the pond at Sunset Park after we erupted in flames. I didn’t know much more about him now than I did that night. All I was familiar with was his healthy appetite for vengeance. And his never-ending heartbreak.

  His touch was timid but his kiss was hungry, and I grew impatient. He threw his head back and hissed when I raked my fingers over his shoulders and down his back. I caught him by surprise, kissing his neck. His body was so still, no heartbeat, no tremor of uncertainty. This was a creature who knew what he wanted, and was very possibly on the brink of finally getting it.

  I slipped a bloody finger into my mouth, relishing the smoky taste of him. It was like when I used the iron to ignite my flames. Instead of being greedy, I smeared Blade’s blood over his mouth and into his beard before letting him suck my fingers clean.

  Rainey had joined us on the bed. She ran her hand up my leg, settling at the top of my thigh. Blade pulled my legs apart, exposing me, drawing a line between the two of them. He trailed his fingers along my stomach, bumping against my strained nipples, and circling my breasts. He had me in his lap, my back against his chest, holding me steady as Rainey was drawn to the pulsing at my core.

  It didn’t matter that I sat in the lap of her enemy. Rainey owned me. Straddling my leg and putting her knee between mine, she placed a delicate kiss on my open lips, catching my bottom lip with her teeth and pulling on it. Blade moaned, his hands sliding down my body, and he was in the danger zone. Heat rolled off Rainey, and his hands were so close to her. I wondered if either of them cared anymore about their original agreement.

  Blade’s fingers settled on my clit. I jumped, and Rainey laughed against my lips. I steadied myself by pulling her into me as Blade’s circles made me dizzy. Pressure built low in my belly, and fire flooded my veins. I concentrated on the rhythm, mimicking it with my tongue in Rainey’s mouth.

  My hips bucked when the first wave of the orgasm rolled through me. Neither of them gave me any relief, intensifying their joint attack on my senses and sanity. Blade stilled his hand, holding it over me as I trembled from the aftershocks. He lifted me out of his lap by my hips and brought me to rest on my knees.

  Rainey followed me down to the mattress. I pushed her back so she lay on her back before me. It had been a long time since I had Blade’s cock inside me, and I missed it. So much. He eased in, giving me a chance to grow accustomed to the feeling again, stretching me inch by inch. The contrast between being with Rainey and Blade had never been starker then when I was with them both. I gripped Rainey’s thighs, pushing them apart as he thrust inside me. I rolled my hips, and he slapped my ass.

  I looked back at him. “Was that a punishment or an encouragement?”

  “Did you like it?” Smoke filled the space between us and a tiny orange light emerged, spreading over his skin.

  Nobody had ever spanked me before, besides Lucille, and she definitely wasn’t playing. And it wasn’t Rainey’s style. I grinned at her, gauging her reaction. He may have given us a new toy for the box. “Do it again so I can be sure.”

  His hand burned when it made contact with my skin. He probably branded his handprint on my ass. I’d have a hell of a time explaining that to the producers. Whatever. Tristan drank blood and had sex with thousands of groupies. A handprint on my behind wasn’t cause for alarm.

  But it would give Callie all the evidence she needed to rip my contract to shreds.

  There would be no show if I didn’t have my fire. Blade slapped my ass again as he continued fucking me.

  I cried out and darted my gaze to Rainey, who propped herself up on her elbows, watching Blade have his way with me. If only I had any idea what was going through her mind.

  I kissed the inside of her thigh, getting closer to her pussy every time Blade thrust. I took her clit in my mouth, licking, sucking, moaning against her. She trapped me in place by wrapping her ankles around my neck. Grabbing my hair, pulling on it and massaging my scalp. The sensations were everywhere. I was so hot, I prayed for fire. But I had a feeling that the kind of people who answered prayers had looked away from me long ago.

  Blade yanked my braid, pulling me out of reach of Rainey. His climax shot like fire inside me, spreading through my belly, to my chest. Rainey screamed and scrambled to the far side of the bed.

  I was breathing fire. I picked up my hand and each nail was tipped in a tiny flame that engulfed my fingers, and eventually my arm. The fire consumed me, hot and beautiful.

  “Wrap her in the blanket,” Rainey cried. She came at me with a pillow, smothering the flames.

  “Don’t,” I pleaded. There was no guarantee I’d get it back. But Blade listened to her instead of me. He covered my charred skin with kisses once they extinguished the fire.

  “Keep it inside you,” she whispered. “Until you need it.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  I ENTERED SIN CITY Vampire Club with all the swagger of a woman with two strikes against her. I had nothing to lose. It was the night of our dress rehearsal, in front of the Alta Vista high rollers, the people who invested in our show, and a few lucky fans. It was the first time the mere mortals would have confirmation Tristan was back from the dead. This show had been billed as just Soul Divider and me. In the morning, Las Vegas would be greeted by posters of Tristan and me plastered over every available surface in the city.

  “Nervous?” Rainey asked. We sequestered ourselves in the dressing room, with only the girl who came to design my hair and makeup as an audience. Rainey still relished her role as my fake manager. She worked the door, answering the non-stop carousel of questions from production, and sending them on their way without me having to think about it.

  I leaned closer to the mirror, closing one eye so I could check out my makeup job. It was truly a work of art, white and gold shimmer fading into dark brown shadow, perfectly winged liner, black as night, and lashes I wished belonged to me. She’d kept my lips a light peach, and somehow that little touch kept me looking innocent. My hair cascaded over my shoulders and down my back like armor. I played with it, adjusting it over my chest and opening my robe to see how much it actually covered. “Yeah. A little.”

  “You’ll be great.” She came close, like she wanted to kiss me, but after a confused look from the stylist she took a step back, only giving me a shy smile. An open-mouthed kiss would never be considered professi
onal, not even at Sin City Vampire Club. “Channel your energy. You know what to do.”

  “That’s not what I’m worried about.” I shimmied in front of the mirror, frowning when my nipples slipped through my curls as my hair swayed with the movement. “It’s the topless thing.”

  My thong was as small as the state of Nevada would allow on stage in a venue that served alcohol. Someone had to have common sense. It was sheer with sparkles concealing my lady bits. My headdress sat on the couch, next to my winged sleeves.

  “You don’t have to do it.” Rainey shuffled through the bin of my pasties. “Some of these are so tiny they look like nothing. It’s the art of the illusion. If they think you’re naked, it’s good enough. Here. What about these? They’re just a sparkly ring around your nipples.”

  I took the pasties from her and held the waxy paper over my boob. They glittered in the makeup mirror lights, and added to the is she or isn’t she mystique. I peeled the first one away from the wax. “It’s not chickening out.” The only one I had to convince was myself.

  “Absolutely not. You look like a jewel.” Rainey held my hair back while I applied the pasties. The stylist dove in to help her. “Everyone in the theater will either want to be you or get with you.”

  “Only one person gets to do that.” I smiled, but it wavered when I saw the look on Rainey’s face. The Blade situation became more complicated by the night, and a lot rode on my performance. This was the first time I’d try to ignite after my smoke show and subsequent threesome redux the other night.

  She kissed my cheek. “You’re going to set the world on fire.” Her voice cracked before she turned on her heel and left the room. The door echoed when it shut. Without Rainey, I truly felt naked.

  “I think the pasties are a good choice,” the stylist said, adding to the awkwardness of the moment.

  I nodded, and she understood it was time to leave. She gave me the instructions on how to fasten my headdress and not royally screw up my hair. Her work was done.

  I put on the bravest face I could for my tiny audience, but now that I was alone, I could be scared. I didn’t doubt my abilities. I was in the best physical condition of my two hundred and thirty-four years. This was the moment I’d been working so hard to have in my grasp. I had no doubts about my performance ability. The fire—that was a wild card. The human technicians that worked on the show didn’t believe that I’d spontaneously combust, and cheaters, as I called them, had been installed around the pole and in the lyra. I never planned to use them, but having a panic switch set my mind at ease.

  It was all the things I couldn’t control that scared me. I’d never had a lot of friends, and it didn’t get under my skin that Callie and Rachel didn’t like me. The feeling was mutual. The problem was, I didn’t know who I could trust. I’d bare much more than my body during the show. My soul would be on full display and I wanted some assurance I’d placed it in good hands.

  There were no guarantees. That was the chance I’d have to take to get what I wanted. I clipped the headdress into my hair. I looked like I slipped into a black hole and came out decades earlier. Red feathers at the base faded to orange and gold with sequins throughout; it was like an extension of my body. Everything had been carefully coordinated to look like a slowly smoldering flame. I never looked this sexy before. Excitement burned deep in the pit of my belly.

  I needed help with the wings. I hugged them to my chest as my heels clicked through the hallway. Silence fell around me as I passed. A nearly naked woman in a headdress and sky-high clear stilettos commanded attention. I missed this feeling so much. A cameraman followed me, and someone I assumed was a producer shouted questions at me, dumb stuff like how I felt or was I glad to be back on stage. I considered ignoring him. But instead, I turned and smiled, winking at him like I considered taking him to my bed.

  “I’m ready,” was all I said.

  Poor Rainey wanted to kiss me so bad. Feeling invincible, I almost backed her against the wall and shoved my tongue into her mouth, but there was no guarantee I wouldn’t emerge breathing fire. And I’d mess up my pretty peach lips, and the last thing I wanted was someone in my face with a gloss wand seconds before I went on stage.

  “I love you,” Rainey whispered as she fastened my wings. “And they love you, too,” she added when she moved to my other side.

  “I love you.” I held her gaze too long, not caring what people thought anymore. She calmed me, and the fire that burned in my belly spread through my body.

  Tristan leaned against the wall, wearing nothing from the waist up but his guitar and his signature stage makeup. Black and white greasepaint had been smeared over his face to make him look like a skeleton. A sexy, grotesque skeleton. His eyes were heavy lidded, and I said a quick prayer that he hadn’t had too much to drink. The energy in the theater was electric. Even I could taste it. He nodded to me, his fingers never resting on the strings. I strutted over to him, practicing my walk before I was called to the stage by the emcee.

  Tristan grinned. “The show would be shit without you.” He squeezed the neck of the guitar, bringing the music to a stop. “Tonight changes everything.”

  “Thanks for believing in me. Not many people do.” Silence fell over the theater before the crowd cheered in the anticipation of the complete unknown.

  “They’ll come around.” Tristan sounded like he tuned into Rainey’s visions. He could’ve been talking about anyone, but I had a feeling he meant Callie and Rachel. But the emcee brought everything to a screeching halt before Tristan had a chance to explain himself.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to Sin City Vampire Club tonight. Please give a warm welcome to the hottest girl in Las Vegas, Holly Octane!”

  I couldn’t breathe when silence followed my announcement. What if no one cared, or worse, they forgotten about me? Time teased and taunted me, and it was possible that Cirque Macabre had been erased from everyone’s memory.

  But it started.

  “Holly! Holly! Holly!”

  I relished the burn in my veins. They wanted me. They hadn’t lost faith in me. I climbed the stairs, letting my heart beat in time with the chants. This was what kept me going. I waited for the rest of the band to take their places, and a production assistant gave me the thumbs up when it was time to step into the spotlight.

  The chants turned to cheers when I appeared. A sultry guitar riff came from a secret place, and I tipped my head down, kicking out my leg that had been sprayed with glitter. The metal caught in the light. My arms were crossed over my chest and I spread one wing in time with the music, keeping my chest covered with the other. As the rest of the band joined Tristan in song, I sauntered down the stairs, slowly raising my arms. Rainey had made sure to pull my hair away from my chest when she fastened my wings, and I was on full display. I took the last few steps with my arms raised over my head, the tips of my wings touching the top of my headdress. Little movements made the biggest impact. A simple sweep of a wing made me the picture of grace. I walked along the front of the stage, smiling to the crowd, drinking in the looks of pure adoration on their faces. I hardly remembered that all I had on were some strategically placed sparkles and feathers. I wondered if anyone noticed the pink scar of Blade’s handprint on my ass.

  Each member of the band revealed themselves. I motioned to them as the spotlight shined on them. I clapped my wings, as ridiculous as it was. Love and adoration washed over me. The vampires hadn’t been the only ones starving for something positive—the fans were in absolute rapture. The only time I’d ever been able to look at them at Cirque Macabre was through the veneer of flames, and they were horrified, refusing to believe what they saw. Tonight, I showed them exactly what they wanted to see. As much beauty and grace as I could muster, while wearing huge wings and a thong.

  The music stopped. The big reveal would only happen once. I exaggerated my expression of surprise, bringing the tip of my wing to my glossy pout. The audience hung on my every move. Smoke rose on the stag
e, which I hoped wasn’t a premonition of things to come, as Tristan’s fingers flew over the strings of his guitar. It was a solo he played as part of the Immortal Dilemma show almost every night, mingling with the roars of the crowd losing their collective shit as they realized what was about to happen.

  Tristan appeared on the stage with his arm in the air. He added the red, fuzzy jacket he’d worn so many times on stage. It was a homecoming in so many ways. This hadn’t been my stage or my theater, but I belonged here. He motioned to me, and to the crowd, and they were on their feet, cheering for me, cheering for us.

  He put his hand on my back and the smoke thickened around us, but the crowd would never notice the reaction. My temperature skyrocketed. Please don’t ignite, not yet. The fur of his jacket tickled my nipples when he leaned in. “Wait until you ignite.”

  “It will happen any second if you keep touching me.” I spread my wings and walked off the stage. Knowing Tristan, he probably considered that a come-on instead of a warning.

  I forgot how fast the shows passed each night. Now with wardrobe changes and different routines, I blinked and the band was on their final number. The pole glistened in the spotlight, waiting for me. I stood by the side of the stage, waiting for my cue, my tailcoat and top hat over the pasties. I hadn’t bothered changing them. They were a bitch to get off and everyone had already seen my nipples. No need to cover them now. It was strangely freeing, showing my body so openly. I added booty shorts and thigh high stockings to the mix.

  All I could think about was my fire. I took that as a good sign. The rest of the theater faded away—the band, the crowd, the cameraman who barely left my side since I came to the stage. I closed my eyes and saw flames.

  “Holly, we’re waiting for you,” Ryder called to me from the microphone. The band had shifted to the side of the stage so all eyes could be on me.