Prince Xavier

Prologue

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16 years old, in a club. What can I say? My breasts grew out early and with a bit of makeup I could look at least 18 years old. And hell, let's be honest, it was super easy to get fake ID's in this day and age.

I could have gone to an underage club, but where was the fun in that?

And besides, a homeless girl had to find a way to make a living. In this club I could easily pick-pocket people in the crowd. Especially when the night wore on and everyone got even more highly intoxicated.

I lean up against the bar and sip a glass of raspberry vodka as I survey the different crowds mingling on the dance floor and around the small bars.

This club had even less lighting than most clubs, so I had already gathered quite a bit of cash, 2 mobile phones and one wallet.

I check my own phone for the time – it may have originally been someone else's phone but let's just forget that little detail...

It's 2am.

Crap.

I wanted to leave half an hour ago. After 2am, this club was notorious for being swarmed by vampires.

I couldn't stand vampires.

They were hard to tell apart from humans, but they usually had a dark aura about them, a dangerous vibe, and when they smiled... the fangs were terrifying. Vampires didn't have small fangs like the ones you get on Halloween costumes. In real life they were thick at the base, super sharp at the tip, and at least one and half times longer than the normal canine.

I heard the stories of what it felt like to be bitten. It hurt – a lot. But at the same time there were a few rare stories about how it was actually addictive, it could feel good, especially if you were willing.

I shake myself out of my thoughts. I needed to move before a vampire targeted me and tried to sink their fangs into my neck. 

I drink the rest of the raspberry vodka and leave it on the bar, clutching my bag to me with my stolen valuables, I make my way to the exit.

With what I had stolen I would be able to eat for at least 2 weeks. That gave me something to smile about.

As I walk through the club, I notice one tall handsome male staring at me at the corner of my vision. I can't resist turning to meet his gaze.

I almost stop walking when I see the blue-black depths of his beautifully dangerous eyes. I keep on track to the exit however, refusing to slow down. I had to make my way to my 'foster' home, where a middle-aged woman I hated, allowed me to sleep on her couch occasionally – if I agreed to clean her house and feed her cat while she was away at work all day.

She wasn't exactly reliable, sometimes she let me stay on her couch, other times she refused to let me in the front door, especially if I didn't clean her house to utter perfection each and every time.

That would lead to nights on the sidewalk, or on a park bench.

Not the most pleasant experience and something I tried to avoid at all costs.

I've made my way to the exit, and I breathe a sigh of relief about the same time I'm blocked in my path.

The tall male from before, dressed in all black, passes by me, and as he does he gently grabs my wrist and tugs me to the side, out of the way of about 5 other males that had been about to walk with me out of the club.