Vampiric Interdiction

[44] Syx's Son

For the first time in a long time, she was sleeping.

There was the slightest of stirrings on the bed next to him. The woman with naught but the bedsheets and a finely laced pink bra to cover her modesty turned her head on the pillow to face the male separating her from another female in a similar state of undress.

Syx’s eyes shot open and he looked lazily to the side. The woman was still fast asleep, but he had no need for visual confirmation to know that. He could sense it clearly as if a thick and garish perfume hung in the air that he couldn’t help but to pull in even as he attempted resisting. The dark one hadn’t slept, just feigned it for the ladies benefit, which meant hours of lying in wait, like a ferocious wild animal positioning itself somewhere near its prey to weight for the kill. The difference here was that he was in plain sight, his prey wasn’t entirely unsuspecting since they had gotten into bed with him willingly, and Syx was considerably more dangerous than a feral beast.

The two were laced with enough Enihprol to knock out a horse, so there was no need for him to feign some basis of humanity, and they would have stayed anyway even if he had stabbed one in the chest with a wicked talon whilst the other one watched. With the forbidden essence he had injected into their veins, the other would be oblivious, and probably would enjoy that too.

There was more movement at the edge of the bed and as Syx transferred his faze to the foot his eyes fell briefly upon a clock sticking out oddly from the top of the bedside table. It read: 400AM.

“The authority have called another meeting,” came a gruff voice. It belonged to a man sitting upon the rumpled sheets at Syx’s feet, pulling on a pair of boxer shorts, tight black trousers swiftly following. 

Syx waved a hand over the time and the blinking red light of the digital text disappeared swiftly into the table below it, as if on some sort of descending platform. When it had flattened out completely again the top of the time piece melded into the furniture effortlessly as if it never were. The male in the bed looked to the other at the end of it who looked to be but twenty-four at most and his brows were faintly knitted with aggravation.

“At this hour?” Syx questioned, his violent eyes scanning the room as if searching for indication of whether or not the sun had set yet. There were no windows so it was impossible to tell.

“It doesn’t regard vampires. You’re probably the only one who even knows this is taking place because none on the — forgive me but these are Cova’s words —  “dark side” of the panel will have been contacted. They said something about avoiding unnecessary violence.”

Syx couldn’t help but smile, a devilish smile, and even with the Enihprol still in the young man’s system, as he had had a considerably smaller dose and it was quickly dissipating, the human shivered noticeably. He could have blamed this on the cold sub-level temperatures, but the bloodsucker would be able to tell he was lying. Why bother?

“Oh, and I think they know who’s presence I was presently keeping,” Raking his hands through almost white, blonde hair, he rose to his feet to do up his fly and a number of intricate buttons atop the zipper that looked a lot like black gems studding the leather. They were actually Syx’s pants, but clearly the man didn’t notice this yet or he didn’t think it was that big of a deal.

The still undressed vampire  sat up in the bed, making no effort to be subtle about it. The girls were sleeping like rocks, not that he wouldn’t be bothered in the slightest if he had woken them. His eyes watched intently as the other male fastened the last dome on the trousers; gaze lingering what might have been considered inappropriately long on the area.