Chapter Eight - Perversions

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Two guards, their scarred faces shining under the lights, stood on either side of the door. Selene kept her eyes on them as she walked towards the exit in a final attempt to steady herself.

A gentleman Vampire took the last glass from her tray and she nodded and tried to smile at him, but the effort was almost more than she could endure.

Suddenly a firm hand was grasped about her forearm, and the guard stood at her side, holding her fixed in place.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"My tray is empty," she said, forcing her lips to part and curve upward. He glanced toward her other hand, where the tray balanced on her fingers. He raised his eyebrows as though he had not noticed it until that moment, paused, and then released her and nodded her through the door.

As it closed behind her Selene found herself back in a narrow backstage type corridor, and she let herself lean against the wall. Her legs were trembling and the pain in her heart caused her to double over to contain it; to keep her screams within.

She slid down against the wall and sat on the floor, placing the golden tray down beside her. The thick wooden door prevented much of the sound escaping from the party on the other side; it was almost quiet out in the hall.

She dropped her forehead to her knees and let them hold it. She stayed that way for several minutes, waiting for the pain to subside.

"Selene?"

She looked up but could see no one. But the voice repeated her name once more.

"Who's there?" she asked, standing up again.

"It's me, Selene. Xander," he said, and from behind a pillar his bearded face poked. He smiled, but only for a second before taking in what she was wearing.

"Blood Selene, what's going on?"

"What do you mean 'what's going on'? We came here completely unprepared. I couldn't have got inside at all if I hadn't..." Her voice trailed off and she hung her head and took a deep breath. When she drew her head up once more and met his gaze, she knew he knew what she had done; how low she had stooped. Compassion rippled across his features.

"This is your fault," she added, indicating her attire. "It's only a matter of time before one of them -"

She was cut off by the sound of someone coming down the corridor, whistling. It was an eerie sound; too jovial and happy for the environment. Xander slipped back behind the column.

Selene turned to the source of the noise, which had now ceased. To her alarm she was faced with Arthur Stanley, standing so close beside her that she could feel his body heat radiating towards her, which, conversely, made her shiver, and she rubbed her arms over her goose-pimpled skin.

He stared at her and stepped closer. She wanted to move away in turn but her back was already to the wall: she had nowhere to go. She watched his pupils dilate in his dark eyes and saw his nostrils flare. He leant in closer to her, his chin almost resting on her collarbone as he inhaled her scent.

Then he withdrew so fast he was blur, and stepped away from her again, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"You are not one of mine," he said. "I have not tasted you."

Selene imperceptibly flinched, a mere flicker of her flesh, and forced herself to look directly into his eyes. But he broke her stare, his eyes flitting up and down her body, drinking her in.

She could tell that her presence had taken Arthur by surprise; his chest heaved as though he were breathless, and his face contorted in confusion.

"Arthur!"

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