"These are not your average vamps, dearie. Not by a long shot."
Black and Red have been Nightwalkers for longer than they care to count, and that alone is unusual enough to attract unwanted attention.
Life and survival in the Blue Light District is...
It wasn't a matter of trust that permitted me the safety of being unresponsive in a stranger's company. Far from it; every john I've dealt with understood what meeting their demands entailed. Feeding a john and being able to walk away afterward, that involved a certain amount of preparation. That same preparation ensured them a more satisfying experience and reduced aural resistance.
Most of them preferred it that way. Some vamps liked to hunt and got off on the thrill of edging along the line of dubious consent, the tension and violence of penetrative resistance.
I did my best to avoid those types. Jhez and I learned to spot the ones who liked their meals screaming and fighting—they didn't offer to pay, for one.
The john stood waiting beside the open passenger door. Chill, untainted air stole the warmth from my skin as I disembarked and followed in his wake. He paused long enough to glance back at me, but his yellow gaze no longer held the piercing edge of earlier. He merely observed, eyes drifting up and down my form with appreciation. And then he licked his lips.
Despite his anticipation, he seemed content to bide his time. The red-hued monolith of a building loomed over us and I followed its austere lines up into the night sky. A glittering glass eye glowing in the darkness, the illumination a strange hue that brought to mind oxygen-rich blood. No soothing blue tones for the wealthy and well-to-do. Somewhere along the journey, we'd crossed the bridge over into the Red Light District, and I'd completely missed my chance for a glimpse at the stars. Irritation at the squandered opportunity moved through me and drifted away. I followed my john, buoyed in my aural bubble of calm.
He led the way through the security barriers in the building's ground floor foyer. His gait possessed a languid roll which held my attention until he stepped into the lift and pivoted, coming to a halt.
"Greetings, monsieur." The disembodied voice addressed him in a flat metallic tone. A building more intelligent than any I've encountered in my life. I mean, it spoke to him? Really? I hadn't realized vamps were such Space Odyssey fanatics. "You have a visitor this evening?"
"Indeed." Humor laced his voice. Was this for my benefit?
"Very well." The lift moved smoothly, acceleration gradual enough that my stomach didn't swoop down into my feet. I watched him in the wall's reflective surfaces, not mirrors but polished to a high sheen, whatever material they were. He arched a brow but let me look my fill, didn't challenge my curiosity.
The lighting made his pale skin look flushed with health against the ivory of his silk shirt with its careless buttons and sloppy tuck job. Looking artfully mussed, of course, with a soft leather belt strapped around his narrow waist and immaculately tailored black chinos clinging to his legs. Who the fuck was this vamp? Some kind of royalty? That bitter tang of foreboding tried to crawl up my throat again.
Damn you, Jhez. You got me edgy and it might cost my life.
Why did someone like him—with a residence greeting him by title, with resources to burn—troll the Blue District for some easy chi when surely he had it readily available? There'd probably be a butler to hold the grungy human still for him within easy reach, too. So he didn't have to get his clothes wrinkled or his shirt dirty.
I choked back a wave of hysterical laughter and hid it in a discreet cough.
Whatever his reason, I was gonna make damn sure this gig netted me and Jhez enough to cover our expenses for the next month. It would give us some breathing room, and maybe even a little extra to squirrel away for that trip back out to our cabin in the Cat Hills.
"Enjoy your evening, monsieur." The elevator doors slid open. Beyond, ceiling, floor, and walls radiated the same red hue the buildings did in this district. Though muted, the warm color had the hairs standing up on my arms. He probably found it peaceful, relaxing. Soothing to the eyes or something. From where I stood it was like being on the set of one of those slasher flicks Jhez loved to watch.
A single doorway marred the corridor. The vampire palmed his security panel and stepped aside as the door slid open. He met my gaze and his craving sluiced over me again. Like it did back on the boulevard, but stronger this time. This time, the aural wave of his hunger was immense, powerful, endless . . . No doubt about it, he'd dampened that before approaching me on the street.
Was I gonna see Jhez again? The distant question reverberated softly in the recesses of my mind as I stepped through the doorway. I'd passed the tipping point when I entered the building with him. Where could I run, the elevator? I had no idea how it recognized "monsieur," but I couldn't bet on it responding to me. The corridor had no other visible door. That meant no stairwell as an alternative escape route. I wasn't going anywhere unless monsieur got what he wanted and authorized my departure. My best bet was to give him what he wanted, take my price, and escape while his logic circuits were scrambled and rebooting.
Monsieur's place was black. Not just the darkness of low lighting, though it was dim, too; everything was black. Obsidian, onyx. Unrelieved. The unexpected appearance of my favored color relaxed me. The philosophical insinuations of this vamp's lair soothed my agitation, lulled me even deeper into my state of meditative calm. I closed my eyes, inhaled long and slow. The air stirred against the bare skin of my arm; the faint rustle of cloth. I tracked my john as he followed in my wake.
The door closed, the latch engaged with a faint click. Tension rippled up my spine: the clawing, adrenaline-driven desire for self-preservation.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
