Vickie ran for the door as fast as her legs were willing to go. Unfortunately his legs were about six inches longer, and he was hungry. His hand caught her hair. A quick tug and she was yanked back into his waiting arms. Vickie shuddered as she was closely embraced. This jerk had seemed like he was sweet and lovely just a mere hour ago, but massive quantities of alcohol and major stupidity must have been hazing her brain, since now all she wanted was to be away. Usually alcohol didn't do much for her, but it had been a tense week and she had slammed back more than most humans can consume -- to the delight of this man. It dawned on her he hadn't started talking to her until she had finished about a half dozen shots of tequila.
"Sweetling, stop fighting me. You know you want it." His voice was still as beautiful as she had thought, but now she wanted to get the hell away from him.
Asshole, thinking she would not care if he kissed another bitch in the same hour he was trying to talk her into playing with him. He'd never seen her standing in the shadows as he'd done that slut against the bathroom wall. She had standards after all. She felt his body pressing against hers in his lust for her that was more than a bit obvious.
Knowing he had just been elsewhere -- that wasn't nearly the turn-on guys seemed to think it would be. Go figure. Women rarely wanted to be second. You would think centuries of literature and various dismemberments of parts would have clued men in, but this one must have missed the signs.
"Oh, go to hell," Vickie bit out. She really was tired of brainless men trying to convince her they knew better than she did. He tossed her roughly against a wall in the club's corner. Nobody could see them. Fine. This was what he wanted, okay -- sure. She was more than happy to make an impression.
With a second of concentration, she let her fangs descend to their proper length. She thought his name was Ralph but that could have just been how she felt around him. Damn humans, always wanting something they couldn't have. Oh well, he pushed, she won. With that she fanged in deeply and began the process to drain Ralph dry. The rich coppery blood flowed into her mouth and she sighed with pleasure. He was lush with fear and anger. And she was so thirsty. She felt her eyes rolling back as she deepened her kiss and was nearly finished with this one. Just a few more moments and he wouldn't be harassing women or vampires.
He made some sounds as she kept slurping at his jugular but then these sorts always did. Soon he stopped making sounds other than the usual protestations of her attention to his neck. Hell, he had chased her. Now that he had her, he didn't want her. Oh well. She was having her fun.
Then something different happened. Usually about this point in her feeding she got the feeding buzz from her human. Instead she got her neck yanked back by a brutal hand. Kenyon said harshly into her head, "Stop this now, Vickie! Ralph is not eligible for vampirism and he is definitely not bait. He's a cop, you idiot."
With that she was brutally shoved into a nearby alcove while one of Kenyon's numerous minions tended to Ralph. He staggered off into a room led by a lithe Goth chick, still alive but very dazed. Damn, she was in trouble now. Kenyon was never happy when someone sucked dry one of his patrons without his approval and permissions. Stupid impulse.
Once Ralph was out of sight Kenyon was back in her face.
"Vickie, how many times have I warned you to stop bringing men here? How many times have I had to dispose of your messes? Donnie told me you arrived and I was nearly too late. That's it, come with me." Kenyon forcibly pulled her by the wrist back into his office. Then, to her dismay, through to the back room that was combination vampire lair and death pit. A slight pause and he slammed the door shut, leaving just her and him in the room. That couldn't be good.
Still somewhat blood-filled and a bit drifty, Vickie tried to beguile Kenyon with her eyes, "Kenyon, my lord, I really forgot. Besides he was raping one of your patrons in the bathroom." If nothing else that could justify the draining.
"Vickie, she was consenting, and not being raped. In fact, her exact words were, 'Do me now, you stallion, you.' From what I overheard." Kenyon looked a bit ill at having heard that bit of flirting between the gal and the cop, while Vickie knew she was just screwed.
Before she could give it much of a thought Kenyon, had her strapped to the wall. Usually she was the one doing the manacling, but now her master was going to be punishing her. Part of her was still buzzed from the blood and alcohol combination. The liquor pretty much burned out quickly in vampire metabolism. If you rapidly drank, you got a bit drunk, she had learned, but never had she been drunk and blood filled while in trouble. She was having problems taking Kenyon seriously.
"Come on, Kenyon. You saved the day. No need to do all this. I promise I will be good." Admittedly she whined the last bit, but it held no sway. Kenyon calmly pulled out a ball and stuffed it in her mouth before she could fang out and catch it. He blocked any of her thoughts and dropped a hood over her head, to her horror. Then she heard him walk out of the room.
Vickie struggled against her bonds but was unable to budge a single inch from the wall she was clamped onto. Her mouth was dry and the dark hood made all the noises unfamiliar. Time passed slowly. She felt the alcohol leak out of her body. Soon the blood she had drained from the cop was no longer tingling along her nerves. But nobody came back to find her. She felt the sun pushing over the horizon. Time clicked in her head. Daybreak was past and she began to worry that she would never be let free. Then other worries started. What if Kenyon wasn't coming back for days? Would he leave her to starve? She had seen starved vampires before, and they were mindless horrors, -- some never regained their sanity.
Night fell again and still no steps.
She nodded off, finally exhausted by the fear and tension of just hanging around waiting for something.
"Hello, who are you?" A soft voice came near her, waking her with a start. She hadn't even heard the door open. Shaking her head slightly, she tried to will the person to take off her hood. The voice hadn't given her a clue to whom it belonged. Soft voices were deceptive and she had no way to communicate with the voice given her ball gag.
A tinkling laugh. Female, had to be, given that sound, Vickie thought.
"You do seem to be in a predicament, now don't you? So what did you do to Kenyon to be stored thus? Did you not play nice? Did you play too nice? Hmmm?" A giggle accompanied that set of questions revealing a youthful quality to the girl in front of her. Or to her side. It was odd, Vickie couldn't feel anything moving near her. If it weren't for the whisper-soft questions, she wouldn't know that there was anyone even in the room with her.
Frustrated she tried to shake the hood off her face. It didn't work.
"Sorry, I am not going to upset Kenyon by letting you loose. He would not look kindly to my interfering with his punishment. The hood is quite nice at least. Lovely purple velvet with some black piping. Kenyon has quite the sense of humor because the piping is along the shape of a happy grin and two closed eyes. Really funny from this side. Probably not so funny to you I wager." The laughter was louder now. Vickie strained against her bindings to see if she could brush the girl. A touch and she might be able to read her mind. This was driving her crazy.
"So do you have a tongue or did Kenyon rip it out of your mouth?" The disembodied voice was seriously asking. "If you have your tongue still, nod yes."
Vickie nodded frantically affirmative.
"Oh, that is good. Maybe he won't be killing you. He tends to take the tongues, you know."
Vickie nodded yes. Because she did know, and she hadn't even considered that Kenyon would kill her for her transgression. A chill of fear ran up her spine as her situation became more pronounced with this girl's words.
"So, you seem to have made him pretty mad. And I certainly can't help you other than keeping you company. You want me to stay?" The voice was wistful and Vickie nodded again. Even unseen, the company was appreciated. She was running through her list of local vampires who could be in front of her. She pretty much had exhausted the list and still wasn't sure who this girl was. Maybe she was a new fledgling or someone's girlfriend. She had to be some kind of vampire because she was in this room unaccompanied by any of Kenyon or his crew.
The voice drifted a bit further away and asked, "Are you quite pretty?"
Vickie had no idea how to reply to that. Hell, she was a vampire, what did it matter what she looked like? Besides, she went for the stark bitch look rather than wispy Goth. This gal had to be one of those Goth chicks. They always had a hang up on looks. Vickie mentally slapped her brain. That is who it had to be, one of the Goth vampires. She never paid any attention to them much. Vickie settled for shrugging.
"I bet you are pretty. Your body is good. Nice shape and all." The girl sounded envious. Oh, damn, was this one of those weird ones who played both sides of the field? No hands touched her so she relaxed and tried to appear harmless and less pretty. Her mind skittered to another dark corner. Maybe Kenyon sent this girl into torment her. She dismissed that thought and waited for more yes/no questions. Silence greeted her.
No footfalls gave away if the girl had left. She tried to smell through the hood, but the sweat of alcohol that had been in her was now on the cloth, covering anything but velvet soaked with tequila. She was deathly thirsty and had no way to tell her observer about her problems. She waited and waited and not a word.
"Wow, you don't like being quiet do you?" The voice drifted from a corner of the room.
Vickie indicated no. She was just glad the girl was still here.
"Do you like being a vampire?" Vickie slowly nodded yes.
"Okay. Well, here comes Kenyon. I hope he isn't mad at you anymore. When he gets mad most vampires in your position don't leave the room." The voice sounded delighted. Vickie was hoping she was happy that Kenyon was on his way in, not that she might be slain by her master. A door opened and footfalls came closer.
Quickly the hood was snatched off her head. Kenyon stood in front of her. The light in the room hurt her eyes.
"You are lucky, the cop didn't tell anyone and is happily enjoying the hospitality of one of the girls. So you get to live." He roughly pulled the gag out and handed her a container of water. Gulping it down she whispered her thanks.
"Where's that girl you sent here?" Vickie couldn't see anyone in the shadows. She flipped her head around while Kenyon pulled her off the wall.
"Vickie, what the hell are you going on about? I didn't send anyone here. I locked the room and told everyone to leave you be." Kenyon sounded angry at her question. He went to the door and threw it open. Saying over his shoulder, "Next time you disobey me you won't leave."
Stupidly she glanced in all the corners. There wasn't anyone else here.
An invisible finger ran down her face and she heard a soft whisper in her ear, "You are too very pretty."
Article © Lydia Manx. All rights reserved.
Published on 2018-08-27
Image(s) are public domain.