Chapter Two: Janine
Though he returned to the bar many times after that first fateful night, Raven Crowe did not see the mysterious redhead again. This wasn't to say he didn't find other suitable playmates, but what he began to burn for, to long for, was a woman he couldn't have.
Unfortunately this was not a common occurrence for the vampire whose sexual appetite was as insatiable as his blood lust.
It left him feeling more frustrated than usual. Unfortunately his playmates would feel the sting of his disappointment when he satisfied his physical hungers but his emotional appetite only yearned for more.
So Raven decided it was time for a change in the scenery, at least for the moment. He made his way west for a weekend in Sin City.
If any city in the United States was built for a vampire, it was Las Vegas. Freaks walk the night twenty four hours a day in that gaudy desert paradise, and with the liberal use of alcohol it was a place where the inhibitions of an average human were left at the airport.
Raven felt rejuvenated by the high energy of the crowd as he wound his way through various casinos. He caught the eye of many an interested lady, from his unusual attire to his undeniable sex appeal. He looked like he stepped out of another time -- probably because he had. He wore his hair long, dressed in layers and stood out in the crowd. Though his remarkable eyes fell on more than one prospect, he ended up looking right through them.
He grew ever more exasperated that even being dropped into the midst of a sinner's paradise he was unable to find anything to truly get excited about, even with the high emotions of his fellow revelers.
In fact, if Raven were to get any kind of instant gratification at that moment it would have had to have been feeding on the psychic energy of the people around him. So he focused all his energy to lead him toward the most lively person in the vicinity.
When he heard the contagious peel of laughter from a nearby table, he knew he'd found his target.
He approached the woman with wavy dark blond hair and ready smile without her noticing. She sat at a blackjack table, having won her very first hand. As he drew closer he instantly recognized her innately conservative nature. She voted Republican, no doubt went to church faithfully and probably only sat at that table to appease her friends. She even drank from a water bottle.
He had to smile as he sat across the table from her. He looked away when her dark blue eyes danced his direction. From the long black hair, to his black lined brown eyes, he was an enchanting stranger that could attract even the likes of her, despite her better judgment. "Are you going to bring me luck?" she asked with a slight southern drawl.
"I don't believe in luck," he replied as he tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table.
She laughed and continued to beam with southern charm. "And what do you believe in?"
"Fate," he said as he looked directly at her for the first time. A smile tugged at his mouth when he watched her physically gasp. Her hands shook as she placed her bet.
He watched her own bubbly aura shrink as he drank from her energy. The people in between the two could feel the sexual charge taking place, and from the expression on her face it was clear that he had successfully invaded her consciousness and was tempting her from the inside out.
In his mind he was holding her close in a dance to music with an erotic, heavy beat; he was swaying his hips against her and she responded by grinding closer. Without any encouragement, she bared her neck to the phantom lover in her mind in compliance to a demand that was never made.
The more he drank from her, the more he wanted. And even though the other players at the table, and even the dealer, could feel their sexual foreplay, he knew that to get the ultimate satisfaction he wanted they would have to eventually leave the table. To do that, he knew he'd have to gain her trust.
"I detect an accent. Where are you from?"
"Tennessee," she answered automatically. "And yourself?"
"All over," was his noncommittal answer. "But I do favor the south. Especially their women." He tipped his bottle of water her direction. She seemingly approved of his beverage of choice, and he felt her resolve loosen just a bit.
"My name is Raven," he offered.
"Raven? That's an unusual name."
He just smiled. "I am an unusual man."
"I can tell," she said with a smile of her own. He looked at her expectantly and she found herself saying, "My name is Janine."
"Janine," he said, rolling her name over his tongue. "That's lovely." He noticed her blush. "So tell me, Janine, is this your first trip to the City of Sin?"
She didn't seem to approve of the famed nickname of Las Vegas. "I've been here a time or two. I'm not usually a gambler or a drinker or a partier, so there usually is no appeal."
He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. "And now?"
She stammered, unable to find a suitable reply.
