A homeless person stares, watching me change. With a quick glamour, I make him forget I was ever here. Realizing I need a palate cleanser, I borrow a bit of blood from him. Not too much. Not enough to cause health problems. Just enough to get the taste of demon out of my mouth.
Nothing beats human blood.
Well, almost nothing.
Your blood might be the exception, from what I've heard.
I hope I will have a chance to taste you and find out the truth, once and for all.
Are you really as sweet as they say? Though, I've also heard you leave a bitter aftertaste once your allure wears off.
We'll find out soon enough, won't we?
I study the invitation. On the front The Monster Ball is written in an elegant font. I flip it over and read:
Just as the moon has brought me to you,
So shall the moon bring you to the ball.
All Hallows Eve.
The Witching Hour.
I have less than a day to prepare for this event.
Better make haste.
Chapter Two
It's a few hours before dawn when I return home, passing along the cobbled road guarded by parallel rows of birch trees that act as stalwart sentinels to the property. You would quite enjoy the effect of it all, I think, and the splendor of the manor once it comes into view. The driveway winds through the trees and curves into a U with an ancient oak in the center. Just beyond is a large white mansion with Greek columns and a topiary garden I designed myself.
I pull into my normal parking spot and notice several black sedans in the guest spots.
I don't exactly relish the idea of dealing with coven members today, but it looks like I have no choice.
Double checking that I still have the ticket, I lock my car and head in. George—my long-standing butler—greets me at the door. His family is human and has served the coven for generations, even following us from Europe to the States when we made the move. He bows briefly.
“Sir, they arrived without notice. I have them waiting in the sitting room. They were quite adamant that they would not leave until they could speak with you directly.”
“It's all right, George,” I say, patting his shoulder. “I'll handle them. In the meantime,” I continue, handing him the keys to my car, “there's a suit in the trunk that needs magical intervention to clean.”
George nods. “Of course, Sir. I'll take care of it tonight.”
I need a shower and a proper drink, but both will have to wait. This impromptu meeting is because of you, by the way. Because of what you did. There is always a ripple effect to our actions. This is yours, though I am currently paying the price.
I step into the sitting room, and three very old vampires turn to face me.
Delores is wearing all white as she is wont to do. She forever looks like a bride denied her wedding day with her white veils and long white dresses that are all interchangeable. Some say she never got over becoming undead mere moments before she walked down the aisle, and so she remains the eternal bride and never the wife. Now, she kills all men she mates with just as her husband-to-be killed her. Her female lovers she merely maims, perhaps as revenge for the woman who stole her love's affections, causing him to end the relationship quite bloodily.
Her dark eyes assess me as she sips a goblet of blood. “You look worse for the wear, Devin,” she says, raising an eyebrow.
Allistair and George, both blond aristocrats from forgotten European royal lines, flank her on either side. The three of them form the triumvirate that manages the vampire covens in the western hemisphere.
“To what do I owe the pleasure?” I ask, giving the barest hint of a bow. I am actually more powerful than any of them individually, but when they are together, I am no match, and so I defer to them for now as I shore up my base of power. Their corruption has cracked the foundation of our people for too long, but I can't do anything about it at the moment, thanks to you.
"Have you retrieved it?" Delores asks.
"It will be in my possession within days," I say.
"If it is not, you will lose your position and your coven," she says.
"I'm well aware of the consequences," I say, walking over to my bar to pour a glass of brandy. The sitting room is comfortably laid out with plush leather chairs, a fireplace for ambiance, and walls of books. I find the smell of old paper and leather comforting and familiar. I was a bookseller in my former life, did you know? Given your tendency to hoard stolen library books, I think you would find my calling comforting.
Delores steps towards me and holds out a finger, gliding her sharp nail against my cheek. "I would almost make an exception for you should you ever wish to discover the dark pleasures of my bed," she murmurs.
I grab her hand and guide it away from my face. “As tempting as the offer is, I'd hate to have you compromise your morals on my account.”
Her face hardens instantly, the lust in her eyes gone. “Very well. We shall return in two days, and we expect to find this situation resolved.”
George and Allistair never make a sound. In fact, no one has ever heard them speak. I'm not sure they can. Some speculate that Delores cut their tongues out to keep them loyal. I wouldn't know, and I honestly don't care. That unholy trinity needs to be taken down a few notches, and with your cooperation, I can do just that.
Our former leader was weak as evidenced by what transpired between the two of you. I am many things, not all of them good, but I am not weak. You will not be able to play me like you played him.
Once the front door closes, I down my drink in one gulp, letting the liquor burn my throat, then I head upstairs to shower and change. I still smell the stink of that bloody demon.
I head to my suite and run the shower, stripping down to nothing and bagging my clothes for a proper cleaning. The hot water doesn't warm my always-cold skin, but I enjoy the sensation, nonetheless. I use a magic potion infused with oils to clean off the smell of that monster and then tie a towel around my waist and recline on my bed, thinking about my plan.
You are my plan, of course. What is the best way of seducing the ultimate seductress? What will I need to guarantee my success in this endeavor?
My room is decorated in original Queen Anne furniture that blends the styles of Baroque, Classical, and Asian influences. Simple. Elegant. Timeless. Much like you, I think.
I've been watching you since that night. Did you know that? I know where you live, who your marks are, how you take your coffee. I even know about your late-night chocolate cravings.
Of course, I can't personally monitor you during the day, but like me, you are a creature of the night even if by choice rather than necessity. You enjoy working under the cover of darkness just as I do.
We are the same, you and I. It was startling to realize, but it is true, nonetheless.
We are both driven by the same impulse to be free of the expectations of others. To be in control of our own destinies. To live life on our own terms.
It is why I am not angry you did what you did.
Lawrence deserved his fate for what he did to your family.
But my coven should not have to pay that price as well, which is why I must see this through to the end, for better or worse.
A knock at my door pulls me from thoughts of you, and I sit up. "Enter."
George comes in, carrying a custom tailored tuxedo, recently dry cleaned. "For the Ball, my Lord."
He hangs it in the wardrobe then turns to face me, his expression unreadable. "Forgive me for prying, but the young woman in question... May I inquire as to your plans? That is to say… are you planning on killing her?"
It seems even my butler has fallen under your charms, no doubt from his days spent following you when I am unavailable.
But he poses a good question. Will I kill you to finish this?
The answer, my dear, is entirely up to you.
Chapter Three
I wait outside your apartment the night of All Hallows Eve. When you e
merge from within, my breath catches in my throat. I can't stop myself from staring. A feathery black dress drapes your body, caressing it like smoke. Your dark hair is swept up in a complicated braid with tendrils of curls falling around your pale face, and you, of course, wear a black rose with silver leaves pinned to your braid.
Your lips are red as blood, and I steel myself against my own desire to taste those lips. To taste you.
But that is not the point of this evening, and I twist the ring on my finger as a reminder that I am immune to your magic despite how my body is responding to the mere proximity of you.
I hope we can work something out tonight. A way for us both to win. I find myself loathe to kill a creature as fascinating as you even to save my coven.
Don't get me wrong, my dear. I will kill you if I must. But we have all night to find another way out of this, you and I. If you're amenable to such a plan.
It's nearly the Witching Hour. I check my pocket for the stolen ticket, and I wait, watching as you step into the night, under the light of the full moon.
I glance up, and a brightening moonbeam temporarily blinds me. I shield my eyes as the glowing light flashes, and when I open them again, I am standing at the end of a sketchy looking alley in an unfamiliar neighborhood. Behind me, a bustling city creates a cacophony of sounds. Car horns, angry driver, lovers quarreling, kids out past their bedtime.
I avoid stepping on a piece of gum stuck to the sidewalk as I walk towards a bright red door at the end of the alley. Two giant gargoyles perch on either side, and when they see me, their stone bodies come to life as they stretch their black marbled wings, their bodies slowly morphing on the flight down to greet me. By the time they land, they are transformed from beasts to men. Twin brothers, by the looks of it. Identical in nearly every way, from their ebony skin to their black eyes. Their primary difference is that one has slightly longer dreadlocks.
"Your ticket, vampire?" the one on the right says, his shiny red shoes clicking against the asphalt.
I pull it out of my pocket and hand it to him.
He studies it, shows it to his brother, then turns his eyes back on me. "This isn't your ticket."
I shrug. "Unfortunately, the demon who received it won't be needing it anymore. Surely there's enough of his blood still in me to give it a pass?" I smile charmingly—though, I am nearly always charming, so that should go without saying.
"Two stolen tickets in one night," the other gargoyle says. "I wonder what The Proprietor has in store for this one, Lex?"
Lex shrugs, glancing at his brother. "It will be interesting to find out, either way. What do you think? Should we let him in, Bronx?"
“Could be amusing,” Bronx says, grinning, but then his grin disappears, and he turns a stern face to me. "But make no mistake, vampire. Though The Proprietor's magic will prevent anyone from taking a life, we'll be keeping an eye on you. Pull any of this bullshit in there, and you'll wish you hadn't been reborn. Hear me?"
"Understood," I say, adjusting my tuxedo coat. "I'll be on my best behavior. Scouts honor."
The door opens on its own, and once I am inside, it slams shut behind me. The fluorescent light bulbs flickering above me blink out, but I'm still able to make my way through the dark hallway with my night vision. After a moment, I hear bass-heavy music and the sounds of guests dancing, laughing, and chatting.
You are in there somewhere. Our dance is about to begin.
The darkness around me is pierced by a rainbow of lights in the distance, leading to a large rectangular room lit by fiber optic lights in the shape of a giant thundercloud. They change color to the beat of the music. It's an industrial style rave with modern decor, a huge dance floor and large white bean bag chairs. From the entrance, I can see two bars with cement countertops veined with glowing crystals, stocked well with all manner of drinks for all manner of monsters.
I scan the crowd, noting those who are already getting their freak on, those who are dancing, those who are hunting, and those who are content to get drunk off their asses. There's another level, an overhanging loft, and since I don't see you down here, I assume you have made your way upstairs. Are you hunting as well? Who is your target tonight, and what do you plan on stealing?
I head to the bar on the left and raise my hand to get the bartender's attention. We have all night, you and I. And this is a party, after all. A beautiful woman with white hair and red eyes saunters over, and I feel my ring pulse. Another succubus. Lovely.
She leans over to me. "What can I get you, sexy?"
"Nice ink," I say, admiring the bat tattoo that covers her left shoulder.
"Thanks," she says. "My name's Imperia, and I would be happy to show you the rest of it later, if you'd like." She winks suggestively.
"I've got other plans this evening, but the offer is appreciated." It's been too long since I've been with a woman, I realize. All of my energies have been spent on you, focused on hunting you, leaving my baser cravings unsatiated. That will have to change soon. Who knows? Maybe tonight.
"Hey bitch, I need a drink. Did you hear me?"
Imperia turns sharply to the mouthy man at the other end of the bar. Her black heels click sharply against the floor as she makes her way to him. She doesn't touch him, but she doesn't have to. She leans in and hisses. "Speak that way to me again, and your next drink will be your last."
No one is allowed to kill anyone else at this Ball. That doesn't mean she can't put him to sleep or do something else that would make him regret his life choices. Once he's properly schooled, she returns to me.
"Sorry about that unpleasant interruption. What can I get you?"
I shrug, looking around at the gyrating bodies. "Surprise me."
She smiles wickedly. "Delightful."
I watch as she works with confidence. She drizzles a shot glass with chocolate sauce, mixes some flavored Baileys and Smirnoff and then tops it with whipped cream and a cherry. She slides the glass to me. "It's called Succubus Kiss," she says, and I can't help but laugh.
It's as if the universe is conspiring to bring us together tonight, isn't it?
"Is this a dessert or a drink?" I ask, sniffing the too-sweet concoction.
"Must one choose?" she purrs, leaning forward. "It may be sweet, but it will punch you in the balls if you're not careful."
She could be describing you.
I down the shot, imagining what you might taste like to kiss. Once I'm done, she hands me another drink, this one red with smoke coming off the top. "You look like you could use a little extra kick tonight. Big plans?"
I take this new drink and sip it. Blood, alcohol, and something else that makes my head spin pleasantly. It's not easy getting a vampire drunk, but Imperia might have a knack for it.
"You could say that. Thanks again for the drink."
I scan the crowd again and still don't see any sign of you, so I move towards the rainbow staircase that leads to the second level loft. Still no sign of you though many couples have retired to glowing privacy cubes that line the walls. You could be in one of them, but I don't think you are. I think you went to the roof, for fresh air, perhaps? Or for the view. You do love your rooftop views. Is that why you live in your shitty little apartment? Because of the view you get when you climb to the roof?
My vision is temporarily distorted as I walk through the rainbow cloud to reach the top level, and I take a deep breath, once I'm outside, and smile.
I smell you here. Your particular scent of strawberry and lilac.
Outside, there are several sunken conversation pits with white couches lit from underneath by glowing lights, and glass tables with metal airplane propellers beneath. Each pit glows a different color of the rainbow, creating a spectacular effect as a whole. There's another dance floor, though smaller than the lower level ones, and a circular white bar. You are standing at the bar, with your dress made of smoke and your eyes the color of sapphires, a contrast against the white.
You are toying with your drink, a cocktail t
hat matches your eyes, and the man before you is clearly under your spell. I feel a tinge of jealousy as you lean in, your lips so close to his. I smell his need. His desperate desire. And I smell your hunger. You need to feed, and he is nothing to you. Just a snack. Junk food.
You deserve so much more than him.
Your lips part, sucking in his lust, feeding on it.
A wild frenzy steals into his eyes, and I feel the moment the energy shifts.
Your eyes widen in alarm as the man with you begins to shift into a wolf. He's lost control of himself, his animal instincts claiming you as his.
This won't do at all.
As his newly transformed paw slashes through the air to tear into your porcelain skin, I dash to you so fast, no one with mortal eyes would have known I was moving, and I bend his wrist backwards, breaking it.
He screams, his body quickly shifting back into human as he drops to his knees. "What the hell, man!"
Now, he's whimpering, tears streaming down his face.
"Play nice," I tell him. "Or don't play at all."
And then I turn to you and smile. "Hello, Sabine. How lovely to see you again."
Chapter Four
Your eyes narrow, and you press your lips together in anger. Your words come out in a hiss. “What are you doing here?”
I cock my head, studying you. I was expecting this reaction, of course. "At present, it appears I'm rescuing you from an overly aggressive suitor. It's a full moon. Best be careful with those succubus powers of yours. Men can be such animals."
Your lips almost curve up at that as you glance down at the wolf man-baby who tried to harm you. But you resist giving in to the smile. It's all right. We have time. I will eventually win you over with my charm.
For your sake, you need me to.
Because where my charm might fail, my might never does. And I'd hate to steal from the world such a beautiful creature as yourself.
The Monster Ball Year 2 Page 26
