She gave him a flat look. "No. Your dad did."
"Stop with the beer. I can smell punch and soda. Give them those."
She frowned. "But your parents..."
"Give. Them. Those. I don't want any stupid teenager drunk in my party. For how long have you been serving?"
"Twenty minutes." She looked down at the hand still clutching her dress. "Can you let go of me now?"
He brutally pushed her back and stepped away. She caught herself before she fell, and burnt holes into his receding back with her eyes. "Asshole."
"I heard that."
Even with the loud music, his level voice still reached her ears. She snorted loudly and went to stash away the crates of beer.
"Nice try, Dad," Eric mind-linked his father.
"What?" He sounded irritated.
"Beer. Really? And what are you and Mom doing at my party?"
No response.
He shook his head and mentally rolled his eyes. "You two never get tired or ever have self-control." He pushed away someone who was staggering into his path. He hoped that barmaid had done as he'd instructed. "Where are you?"
"Room seventy-eight."
He growled lowly. A couple dancing near him heard it and scampered away quickly. "Best fûcking parents in the fûcking world."
"Go get laid." Then, he shut him out.
Eric sat on a stool at the snacks bar and ordered for three hamburgers. Tonight was going to be a long night; he could see that.
When he was done with his first burger, someone joined him. By the scent he got, it was a girl. He glanced at her. She wasn't new. What was her name again? They shared only biology and literature classes.
"Hi. I'm Kathryn."
He looked at her very well. Oh yeah, he remembered now. Kathryn Moon.
She gave him a saucy smile. Her strawberry blonde hair gleamed dark pink under the disco lights. Her full lush lips were painted red, and her bright green eyes held charm. The burgundy dress she wore was strapless on one shoulder and hugged her immature, lithe body sensually, stopping mid-thigh. He wondered how she walked in her spiny five-inch heels.
"What do you want?" he asked before looking away and taking a first bite in his second burger.
"Fun." She quickly snatched his remaining burger and bit into it.
He glared at her. "I thought girls watch their weight."
"Well," she purred, tossing her hair to a side, "you don't get so much fat from sharing a burger with someone."
Irritated, he slammed his half-eaten burger on the paper plate, and turned to face her. "What's your deal?" He couldn't prod into her thoughts, her scent was off. Heck, she reeked of so much suspicion.
"Hmm." Those red lips curled up into a sly smile. Her eyes darted around him. She leaned closer towards him, and he noticed her nonexistent cleavage. "I might stop bugging you if you give me a dance." The pop music that had been playing had now changed to a waltz. Couples were up on the floor, stuck to each other, and gliding slowly to the song.
"Fück off." He returned to his snack.
Kathryn seemed to ignore his icy retort, really persistent to remain at his side. He had to give her credit for her determination. She even finished off the burger she'd taken a bite from. Actually, he'd refused it after she'd touched it.
"So," she paused dramatically and raised her eyebrows, "the dance?" She crossed her legs, rested her right elbow on the table, and dropped her chin on the palm of her hand.
He got off the stool and held out his hand to her. She gave him a long stare of disbelief, looked down at his hand, then back up at his face. He sighed deeply. "Don't waste my time, bîtch."
She ignored his reference and placed her slim, feminine hand onto his bigger hand. She was even surprised to find it smooth. Maybe smoother than hers.
He drew her up and practically dragged her to the dancefloor—in her heels. She muttered curses under her breath. And he pretended not to hear her.
On the dancefloor, Eric danced with the grace of an inconsiderate gentleman. Kathryn had a difficult time keeping up with his rough moves.
"You know, you don't have to be a prick on the dancefloor." She rolled her eyes when she saw that he was silent and avoiding her face. "Look at me, Eric." No response. "What's up with you, àsshöle?"
Just then, his grip on her waist tightened. The wind was knocked out of her lungs and she started panting.
He leaned close to her, his hot breath fanning her ear. "Say one more word, and I'll choke the life out of you." Then, he heard her gulp. "Good." He quickly pulled away and twirled her around ungracefully.
When the music changed to jazz, he dragged her away from the floor. She thought they were heading back to the snack bar, but was surprised to see the wide, sliding glass doors at the southern end of the room.
"Why the balcony?" she questioned.
As usual, she got no reply. Her imaginations began to run wild. Was he finally giving in to her charms? Would he kiss her? Maybe he'd apologise for his uncouth manners on the dancefloor. Or maybe he—
"Don't flatter yourself with whatever you have going on in that wilted brain of yours," he said, breaking her train of thoughts. Her scent had changed, and it told him that her mind was processing things he wouldn't like if he knew of them.
She rolled her eyes at him for the second time that night.
When they were at the balcony, Eric pushed her to the wall, and pinned her there. She opened her mouth to protest, but her words got stuck in her throat at the feel of his nose nuzzling the side of her neck. A breathy moan escaped her lips when he kissed a spot.
"What're you doing here?" he murmured against her skin. "Hmm? Tell me. What do you want? Why do you want my attention?"
"What... What if... I can't say?" Her eyes rolled back in her head when she felt his teeth graze the soft flesh and pull it slightly.
"But you must. I'm curious." When she wasn't replying, he went on. "You smell different from the others. I can't even read your mind." The hold of his arms around her waist tightened. "What makes you different?" He looked up into Kathryn's eyes, his own rimmed with tinted blue. "What are you?"
"Vampire. Like you. But not pureblood." Her words flowed out of her lips freely as she stared into his more powerful eyes. "I'm also an illusionist. From my mother's side."
"Then what do you want from me?" he asked huskily.
"Quranda sent me to you," she said, breathing heavily.
"You mean the queen of the Vibue vampires?" She nodded. "What does she want from me?"
"Your blood."
The rings in his eyes blazed brighter.
"She believes your mixed blood will be perfect for the ritual." She kept on holding his compelling gaze.
"What ritual?" he asked her.
The ice in his voice sent shivers down her spine. "I don't know."
He watched her small bosom rise and fall deeply. "And what's your own part in this?"
"To use a spell on you. Get you charmed, seduce you to fall for me."
He smirked. "And you believed this will work." She winced. "Ah. My bad." He was glad he'd gotten the protection tattoo his mom had had him inscribe on his lower back. "If you'd seduced me, what would've happened then?"
"The bantitsus assigned would use a binding spell on you, hold you down, and make you unconscious." By now, she was just talking away like a hypnotised human recorder. "Then, they'd have your blood drained, and the ritual begins."
"Hmm.... Interesting." He tried mind-linking his dad but got no response, then tried his mom, and she replied. He told her about Kathryn, her mission and Quranda's plan. He returned his attention to the struggling girl in his arms, since his compulsion on her had broken momentarily.
"Let. Me. Go. You. Brute."
He snorted loudly. "You're not going anywhere."
"You used your spell on me, didn't you?"
"It's not a spell. And stop squirming," he snapped.
"I'll scream," she said between clenched teeth.
"Try it." He leaned closer again. "You masked your scent with your spell, didn't you? So, I wouldn't read you off. Thought you were a smart bîtch."
She growled at him furiously.
A boy stumbled into the dim, lonely balcony. "Hey, Eric. Your party's popping inside. What the heck are you— Oh... Sorry." His wide, baffled eyes flicked between Eric and Kathryn. His face instantly became like a tomato. "Didn't know you were... um... busy. Guess I'll leave you two alone. Sorry." He rubbed the back of his pink neck, and kept on mumbling apologies, till he stumbled back inside.
The two opponents were still locked in the same embrace.
"Why didn't you scream?"
Kathryn narrowed her eyes at the mocking tone of his voice.
Eric cocked his head to a side. "Hmm?"
"I..." She looked down hastily at their touching feet. "I... I don't know."
He put his head back in the crook of her neck.
"Stop doing... that." Then, she was whimpering. Her whimpers became loud gasps and then, moans.
"Hand her over."
Eric looked up, and saw Chelsea wearing a frigid mask. He unwrapped himself from Kathryn and stepped away from her.
Chelsea glanced at him and saw him taking a deep breath. "You should be careful."
He shifted his gaze to her. His eyes had a dark rim now. "It's just her body."
She snapped the girl's neck quickly like a twig. "You don't know what kind of hold she may have on you if you two have sex."
"I'll be careful." He looked down at Kathryn's unconscious body. "What will you do?"
"The usual thing."
They teleported themselves with Kathryn's body to the basement of their house. Eric checked her body for her sunlight repellant and saw that it was a tattoo on her thigh. He poured mixed vervain liquid on it till the skin there scorched and the mark peeled away. With gloved hands, he and his mother tied pure silver chains around her wrists, ankles and neck.
Then, they returned to the party.
Chelsea filled Connor in on what was going on, the moment they arrived. Eric went to join his classmates in the hall. And to look out for any other supernatural presence.
Someone grabbed his arm and turned him around. It was Dean. "Where's Kathryn? Heard you two were smooching at the balcony." He grinned. "Seems like you're really having fun on your birthday. Lucky you."
He was joined by another guy. "Yeah, I could actually hear Kathy's moans from the bar."
Damn, was she really that loud? He'd thought the music would cloak their voices properly. Unless... "There's no way you could've heard her, Mikey. The music won't let you."
"Just kidding, man." Mikey playfully slapped his shoulder.
And that was when he felt it.
"Of course, the music was loud but I was at the balcony doors when I heard it."
"So... where's she?" Dean asked again.
"Sleeping," Eric replied curtly.
The boys' eyes gleamed with mischief. "You two really did the dirty?"
He shrugged casually. "She was desperate. And tempting."
Dean moved close to his ear. "Be careful, man, or you might be whipped."
Eric snorted and glared at him. "I can't be whipped, you fool."
He gave a shaky laugh, and backed away quickly.
"But I may not be the only one who's getting laid tonight." His gaze shifted to the other boy. "There's someone who'd like to meet you, Mikey. She's waiting at the balcony."
Dean glanced back and forth between the two. "Hey! What about me?"
Eric gave him a bored look. "Don't know, don't care. Guess you're lacking in the charms department."
Mikey broke away from them with a grin and headed to the balcony. Eric immediately mind-linked his mom, while the boy pushed through the gyrating bodies.
Minutes later, she replied that she'd already dealt with the boy, and his body was chained in the basement with Kathryn's.
During the remaining hours of the party, Eric had to involve himself in all the games. The one he dreaded and detested the most was 'Truth or Dare'.
Whenever he chose 'Truth', he answered the questions with lies, unless asked on relationship, dating and love. His opinions really appalled his classmates to the bone but he didn't care.
In 'Dare', he felt he was passing through humiliation. Especially when he was dared to kiss Karen Burden. For two minutes.
"You must be out of your fùçking minds," he snapped at them.
Most of the students were too excited to be intimidated by his anger. They kept on chanting, "Do it. Do it. Do it..."
Oh no. These people would never be the death of him.
He turned to the girl in question. She was staring up at him with those sharp hazel eyes. Eyes like his mother's. They bored into him.
"Let's get this over with," he grumbled, before bringing his face close to hers. Before their lips met, he inhaled deeply.
The kiss was very chaste. Probably the most chaste kiss Eric had ever given. Their lips simply touched each other lightly for two minutes. Like feathers.
In spite of the chastity of the act, Karen felt electric sparks at the nerve endings of her mouth. Even after they pulled away, her lips still tingled.
She touched it lightly with two fingers and gasped loudly.
"You've got to be kidding me," Eric's snide voice broke into her blissful moment. He rolled his eyes at her. "I didn't even kiss you, and you're panting like a fish out of water."
The look of disgust in his eyes shocked her. It wasn't entirely her fault that he was dragged into this. Well, she may have made her attraction towards him known to her friends, who'd deemed this occasion perfect for her to get a taste of her crush.
But his eyes. Those cold blue eyes. They were piercing. Like shards of glass.
Eric had always been a mystery to her and the rest of the students. Nobody knew why he was the way we was. However, she felt there was something intriguing beneath his enigma.
"I... I..." She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry."
He snorted. "Shut up. I bet you liked it." Both of his brows went up. "Didn't you?" He faced the cheering crowd and called out, "Now, who's the next bítch?"
Everyone was instantly quiet and looking at him.
"Well?" They were exchanging nervous glances. "Since you girls are practically throwing yourselves at me."
"Son of a bïtch," someone spat.
His vision clouded. Who the fùck was that? He traced the scent to a timid bold-faced girl. "Marilyn Cashmore."
Her eyes grew inches wider. "How... how do you know my name?" she croaked out in a whisper.
His lips curled up distastefully. "Repeat what you said."
She gulped at the look in his eyes. No one was seeing it but her. "Son... Son of a... a b-bïtch."
"Boldly."
"Son of a bïtch."
He smirked, nodded, and turned to the others who were gaping with confusion written all over their faces. "Let's go on with our game."
Well, the rest of the night went okay but more awkwardly. His response to Marilyn's insult still had them puzzled.
"Is she conscious?" Eric asked his mom minutes after he'd come home and told her about the party.
"Go see for yourself." She relaxed lazily on the deckchair at the backyard patio, while her husband roasted marshmallows on a small charcoal stove beside her.
Eric sped to the basement.
"Kathryn."
She stirred, then looked up at him. Those bright green eyes became suspicious, scared, and angry, the moment they landed on him. "You," she spat maliciously. She checked her fetters and saw that they were off.
He gave her a blank stare. "Come."
As if they were of their own mind, Kathryn's leg muscles had her standing up and walking towards him. She stopped when she was mere inches away from him.
"Don't fight," he said softly in a hypnotic voice.
She nodded.
He pulled her close and dove for her neck. Again, he suckled, kissed, nipped, licked. Soon, she was panting. He didn't stop. He pushed her against the wall and had his wicked way with her. She screamed, gasped, moaned, cried. All in ecstasy.
Eric's eyes turned golden, his lupine fangs appeared, and claws dug into the skin of her arms as he gave her hard pleasure after hard pleasure.
"Where is she?" he panted as he thrust into her. "Where is Quranda?"
"I... I... I don't know. Ah... She mentioned Iran a certain time, I think."
"What else do you know?"
"I... I... Ah... I can't say. I... don't know..." She paused to sigh out in pleasure. "...don't know much."
He growled low, his claws grew longer, dark veins covered his neck and arms. He was angry. Angry over the fact that he was a target, and that he couldn't do anything yet. The anger superseded the hot passion, and venom filled his mouth.
Mid-coitus, he bit deeply into her neck with his fangs. Her screech resounded in the entire house. He pulled away from her, licking up the blood on his lips. He picked up his pants and slipped them on. Followed by his shirt and jacket.
With one final look at the naked body on the concrete floor, he murmured, "Rest in pieces, Kathryn Moon."