Chapter One: Aubry
The air was warm, thick and sweet -- a true taste of a deep Southern night fragranced by magnolia. Though it was late, no one could stand to be bound by their houses and walked the street under a bright full moon. It was a perfect night for a vampire on the prowl. Beads of sweat glistened against exposed skin, desperate for even the slightest breeze. Hair hung damp under the oppressive humidity, just like a lover's would after an enthusiastic tussle on satin sheets.
Raven Crowe walked these streets this night, a stranger alone amidst a crowd. His dark, soulful eyes took everything in; every exquisite form, every shadow, every movement. But it was what he heard in his mind that made him especially dangerous. He heard thoughts and desires no one dared breathe, but still harbored deep in their lustful hearts and wicked minds.
It would be on those thoughts he would ultimately prey. And no one was safe.
Despite the heat, his coat was long, and fabric from his shirt and scarves billowed behind him in a breeze he alone seemed to create. The old boots he wore barely made a sound as he moved into the crowd, between sweaty, warm bodies. Their musky scent filled the air, making Raven heady with excitement. He longed to touch, to taste... to feed.
His eyes, rimmed black with eyeliner, scanned the crowd, searching for "the one". If nothing else, Raven was extremely selective. He had exquisite taste and very high standards, but of the things he desired most it was to find the one whom he could desire above all reason or rational thought. He knew he could have the beautiful people who glided through the night like star shine; but after hundreds of years of dining on their egos he found them hardly a challenge anymore.
Likewise those shrinking violets who slunk along the streets barely making eye contact with their own shadow were too easy to seduce. To easy to sway.
Where was the one who would equally seduce him? Or were those days of challenge long gone now that he'd mastered his art of passion?
The thought depressed him, and weighed much heavier on him than the humidity. He peered skyward and noted with a bit of anticipation that a storm was brewing to the west. He loved the unpredictable nature of the weather, Mother Nature was truly a cruel vixen who would toss you about her will.
All he needed was to find her in human form and he would be her slave.
Until then, he was the master of all.
The pulsating sound of music filled the stillness of the night as he approached his favorite tavern. It was a club that catered to Gothic youth and those earthbound creatures of the night. He could be lost there, free to watch humanity devolve to its baser nature. Sex and frivolity reigned supreme as people lost their identity in alcohol and drugs.
Talk about your easy pickings.
Raven would go there if he had an itch to scratch, but it never quite satisfied his true hunger. No one had in a long, long time. But he did have urges that demanded to be met. And in this coven he could readily find someone willing to feed, willing to fuck.
He mingled with the crowd undetected as he assessed who might provide the most excitement for the evening. He'd long since given up long term relationships. Instead he reveled in his hedonistic nature; enjoying the chase more than the conquest.
A beautiful blond in a tightly bound corset brushed against him as he passed by. With a wry grin he decided that there was a lot of merit in the conquest as well. But despite her hungry stare and her bare and willing neck, he pressed on toward the bar.
The bartender gave him a familiar smile. She had been a conquest herself in the not too distant past, but she seemed to understand that was all someone like Raven could offer and never sought him out again. Perhaps she better than anyone knew the score when it came to establishments such as this. Give when asked, leave before required.
For some of the patrons, it could have been deadly otherwise.
For that reason, Sonja stayed mostly to the shadows, just keeping glasses filled and flying just under the radar. Raven, however, had proven much too strong a temptation to deny. His long, black hair hung smooth and full down his chiseled back, and his body was hard and toned beneath her hands. She recalled their night of unrestrained lust and hunger with a tiny shudder. Sometimes she swore she could still feel his mouth on her skin.
That was especially true when she fell into those bottomless brown eyes. They had been her true undoing. She doubted anyone could resist their power.
He gave her a smile as she handed him a bottle of water. No words were exchanged. They didn't need to be. He could read her thoughts, and it pleased him to know she was still so completely under his control he could have taken her right there on the bar in the middle of the crowd. He said nothing to encourage nor dissuade.
It was exactly how he liked it to be.
The rim of the water bottle touched his full lips as he silently surveyed the crowd. Dark hair, dark clothes, a heavy metal beat -- it was the same ol' scene.
He sighed.
And that's when he saw her.
It was the shock of red hair he noticed first -- so bright and intense against the dark, Gothic backdrop. It flowed like molten lava down across creamy white flesh. For a moment, as if she sensed his stare, her eyes met his. Their electric green fire seared him all the way down to his feet, and he couldn't help but notice how shaken she was as well. He could almost hear her gasp across the crowded room.
That was when she quickly turned and disappeared into the writhing bodies on the dance floor.
His water forgotten, Raven moved like air through the crowd, desperate for one more glance -- to chisel that face into his memory so he could never forget how he felt in that one brief moment. It was like a drop of water after days lost in the desert. Instantly he knew he had to have more. It never would have occurred to him that he would be unable to get it.
That was why the more she evaded him, the more desperate he grew. There, just ahead, he saw her bright mane of hair covered by a black hood and she escaped from the bar out into the night.
His senses were on overload. He couldn't even make out her scent, so many sights and sounds and smells assaulted him at once. He burst from the bar out into the hot night. He looked one way, then another. She had gone.
With almost a growl of frustration he turned back toward the bar when he saw a similar black hooded female figure disappear into the shadows of the alley.
Quickly he followed where she had gone. The storm he had predicted lit up the night with intermittent flashes of lightning, and thunder underscored the sound of his boots as they pounded against the pavement. Wind flew down the alley, and he watched as she held her hood over her head and ducked down another street.
