The Innocent Life of Valerie Vale

Speaking the King's

Speaking the King's

Alex was a brute. He was a strong vampire, both in physical prowess and charismatic presence. He knew how to acquire power and how to control. He knew how to infect the souls of men with desire and the hearts of the undead with greed. He hated and destroyed his enemies. He used and exploited his friends. He loved his women but respected them little, his source of finest pleasure, his business, his lifeblood. He was abusive to the core.

‘Where is he,’ Alex demanded. Ice was late and that was unlike him. He feared Alex and knew better than to leave him waiting. It was completely unacceptable and there would be consequences.

‘He should be here,’ replied Nico in his Parisian accent, ‘I told him you wanted to see him, I was quite clear about that!’ Nico was Alex’s first man. He was a quiet enough individual, sick in his own way, perverse but competent.

‘Find out where he is,’ replied Alex defiantly, ‘find whatever hole he’s hiding in and drag him here by his throat or I’ll have yours.’ Nico listened intently as he played with his switchblade. He had a look of murder in his eyes. He usually did.

‘D’accord, I’ll get on that boss,’ he answered as he turned for the door. Alex’s office was a cellar, deep beneath the cold stone of Dark Desires, a club he owned and operated that serviced the fantasies of man and vampire alike. Officially it was a high end strip club but even the local police knew it doubled as a brothel. There was no proof... what could they do?

The girls he hired were mostly vampires with a ravenous sexual appetite that made them especially good at undressing and bending over on command. He paid them well and they catered for the most depraved behaviour without question. In fact, they delivered their service with a smile and on occasion, a gentle moan. They were well trained.

Dark Desires would also provide fresh meat for vampires to feed upon, a rather expensive treat. Human clientele were off the menu. Those with money to spend were most welcome and it became a favourite haunt of lawyers and kingpins, successful gangsters, local politicians and playboys with cash to burn. To make love to a vampire, that was a real experience.

Alex turned to Jack who had been sitting casually on the sofa, enjoying Nico receive the berating that Ice deserved. Jack despised Nico and the feeling was mutual. Alex didn’t trust Jack, not since the old days. That’s why he was happy to keep him close but he missed the friendship they once shared. He was different now, too preoccupied with thought and lost promises. He was an unknown element, an unstable variable in the equation of life.

‘So what the fuck do you want?’ asked Alex as he sat back down behind his desk. Vampires had been disappearing lately. Human gangs hunted the streets, looking for sin with more intensity now than they had since the Burning of the Vanities. It was unsettling and he had lost his patience.

‘Gone are the days you used to speak the king’s my friend,’ smiled Jack as he sipped the drink Alex had been so kind to provide. ‘In fact, as a big shot and all... aren’t you supposed to be wearing a suit now?’

‘And what would you know of the king’s, you’re just an Irish dog,’ replied Alex. His American accent rarely reflected his aristocratic, English upbringing. He wore suit trousers, a thick leather belt with a silver buckle and a white tank top that stretched across his chest. He never had time for a shirt or jacket and he wanted his enemies to recognise just how fit he was. He wanted them to appreciate how hard he could beat them, with his strong frame of unrelenting authority and ferocious command. Beyond that, he was vain. Alex liked how muscular his arms looked and he wanted the world to appreciate them too.

‘That’s Irish prince, my boy,’ smiled Jack again, ‘and why am I here? Well I was thinking, maybe you should get onto Wild Eddie about your lost little Ice. Call it a friendly suggestion, who knows... something might turn up.’

With that Jack stood up from the sofa, placed his empty glass down on Alex’s desk and made for the door. ‘Thanks for the drink,’ he said, leaving Alex alone at last. There was a phone call Alex needed to place. A phone call to Wild Eddie, the proprietor of Raven’s Wing.

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