Author Games: Empty Night

Task Three Entries: Immortal

Mal Lilystone

Mal sauntered up to the Nightclub owned by an infamous demon named Imariel. She was no alien to working with him, as one of her favorite pastimes included toying with the emotions of unleashed hellions as though their hearts were on a set of strings and she were the puppetmaster. She'd met Imariel once-or maybe twice- before, she couldn't quite remember. Clearly, whatever had happened between them was entirely forgettable.

As she stepped through the doorway, her senses were overwhelmed with loud music, glaring lights, and obnoxiously oblivious clubgoers. They were all here for fun; entirely unaware of the fact that- should they be mortal with a soul still intact- they were at risk to have it be devoured by the very man inviting them into his club. Pathetic.

Mal wanted to smile at his deviousness; the clever way that Imariel had disguised his bad intentions with philanthropy towards the youth of this god-forsaken city. However, she was here on business and no pleasure was to be extracted from the night. Or, at the very least, minimal pleasure would be experienced.

A very large, imposing man stopped her as she approached the V.I.P. area and Mal had to suppress her natural inclination to roll her eyes. She felt the tip of her fangs with her tongue and gave him a warm, innocent smile. These were two things that she had become incredibly adept at faking over the years.

He tried not to look as though the mere prospect of a Vampire both disgusted him and filled him with a tantalizing fear and he raised an eyebrow, clenching his jaw. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and noticeably scrunched up his shoulders. Some would see this as him trying to make himself seem taller. As Mal knew from experience; he was actually giving her less of his neck to bite.

Tsk tsk. Silly man. If I were to bite you, I wouldn't need your vulnerable neck. In fact, I much prefer the veins of your arms. She had to swallow her desire to salivate as her eyes focused on the pulse of his blood pumping through his veins and she smiled yet again.

"Imariel is expecting me," with the amount of years she had practiced speaking, the speech impediment she had contracted because of her fangs was hardly noticeable.

"I'm going to need you to state your name and business," the man spoke harshly; his words dripping with a sickly sweet fervency. He'd give anything to be away from her right now.

"Mal Lilystone, and wouldn't you like to know?" she asked as she looked up at him and winked; giving him a smirk that she used to get her way on multiple occasions.

"Mal, it's a pleasure to see you," a voice interjected as a figure came up behind the bodyguard. It was Imariel; silver eyes devoid of life and midnight black hair curling atop his head. His features were handsome; thick lips drawn into a knowing smile and a small glint of a burning star sparking in his eyes upon the sight of her. He had a pronounced jaw and his thin, wiry frame was so pale it was almost incandescent as it caught the faint glow of the cigarette he brought up to his mouth.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Mal let herself into the small, roped-off area of the club to join Imariel in his own private section. She caught his eyes and smiled lightly; a playful hint dancing on her lips as she did so.

"You look even lovelier than the last time I saw you," he caught her hand as she brushed past him and he pulled her to his side, dipping his head down to kiss her cheek. She pushed down her instinct to cringe and smiled even wider, throwing her hair over her shoulder as he pulled away.

"I know," she replied as she sat down on the black leather sectional and instinctively pulled at the bottom of her skirt. He placed himself next to her. Maybe too close, as she could smell the aroma of cigarette smoke and burning flesh that wafted off of him. If her nostrils hadn't already been accustomed to the stench, she would have gagged. Instead, she looked at him with and chewed on her lower lip.