This story is written by a team of authors. We have worked together for a few years but this is the first public release of our work. Please enjoy.
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She slipped through the crowd into the club, somehow not drawing the attention of the doorman or the line of eager patrons waiting to be let in. It was a new place, but it suited her needs precisely. The heavy thumping of music, floating cigarette smoke, and near darkness of the interior made it very easy for her to observe and select her night's entertainment. She wove her way through the tables, neatly avoiding waitresses in their scant outfits and drawing the appreciative leers of the patrons inside, she WANTED them to see her.
She was dressed in a dark green corset and black skirt, setting her dark red hair aflame and accentuating her pale skin. She settled into a large plush booth in a corner of the room, a dark corner. She turned her gaze to the stage, watching the young human women writhe and contort themselves around the two story tall pole. A row of dollar-bill waving men sat in the chairs surrounding the stage itself, perverts row it was called. How far society had come in five-hundred odd years, she thought mockingly.
A drunk stumbled over to her table, "Hey, you wanna drink gorgeous?" he slurred.
She smiled, "I would love one."
He slid into the booth next to her, pressing his body against her; she could smell the alcohol and the overpowering smell of his lust. She backed into the corner of the booth, luring him after her, as he slithered over his legs, pinning her against the wall, she could feel his hard cock through his pants. She reached down and brushed the tips of her nails over it, he groaned.
"Oh baby, is that what you want, some of that?"
She whispered in his ear, "Not exactly," before plunging her fangs into his neck.
As the hot blood flooded her mouth, she continued to watch the show, they had changed dancers and this one could climb the damned pole and dance upside down on the ceiling. She continued to idly stroke the hardness in his pants, feeling him strain and release, warm dampness making a growing stain on the cloth. She released him then, the small holes healing quickly, and carefully leaned him back against the back of the booth. A waitress wandered by, looking questioningly at her.
"Oh, he just had a bit too much." she laughed and waved the girl away. She settled back and let her thoughts wander.
Bianca had been born in Venice during the 16th century, daughter of a merchant family, with no dowry to speak of, her marriage prospects had been nil. She could marry a man willing to take her without anything, guaranteeing a hard life and early death, or go to a nunnery or be a maid. That was not what she wanted. One night, she crept out of her window and snuck off to pursue the only other option available for a woman of that time. She worked her way up through the local taverns, establishing herself as one of the most skilled courtesans of the time.
Her fame grew and her talents were in so much demand that she had to employ a bookkeeper to schedule her appointments and keep track of the money, she was too busy. She lived in comfort and luxury until around her thirtieth birthday, when a new client changed everything. In one night, she became what she remained to the present day; some would call her a monster, others, a beautiful predator. Vampire, she was called now. She was living in a decent sized city in the Americas now, having found Europe to be too crowded with her own kind for comfort. She had tried living in the organized "families" that were popular in the old country, but found the presence of competing predators tiresome.
She was snapped out of her reverie by the sudden feeling that she was being watched. She scanned the room, but could not find the source. It felt different than the humans around her, the scent of lust was so strong in her nose she could not use her heightened sense to locate what felt like another of her kind, but different somehow. There was no way to see with the haze of smoke and the strobing lights.
She slipped from her booth, moving quickly and silently toward the direction from which she felt the gaze. It led her to the back of the club, she stood facing the wall, unsure of where she was supposed to go now, still feeling the eyes on her. She looked up, toward the area upstairs known as the "VIP" area or the "Champagne Room". She could see someone silhouetted in the glass, and the thrill that ran down her spine told her she had found him.
He watched her as she came in to the club; he had seen her come in on the surveillance feed from the camera that watched over the front door. Then he moved to the VIP room, which was still closed to patrons of the club. Her first move of going to a dark place and feeding on one of the drunks only let him know that he was right.
"Well, well a sexy little vampire in my club ", he smiled slowly to himself, knowing this could turn out to be a fun night.
Raven, and no that was not his god given name, knew she was most likely older than him but was she as powerful as the stories said? He saw her move and her eyes turn up toward him, she knew he was watching, it was time for the fun to start. He called down to one of the bouncers working the floor and had them head over to the red head in the green corset and escort her up to the VIP room. Raven smiled as he watched her start follow the man toward the elevators.
As Bianca followed the muscle bound human to the elevator, she slightly questioned the intelligence of doing as she was being asked. Curiosity, however, got the better of her. As the doors slid open into the opulent private lounge, the scent that slammed into her nearly knocked her back a step. Interesting, she had not expected to run across one of them in her territory, they usually avoided any area controlled by a vampire; the local area could not safely support more than one top predator at once.
Wolf, her senses told her, the scent of musk and fur intermingled with his maleness and his unmistakable desire. He was attractive, obviously strong, and very dominant. He was wary too. She had not plied her trade for well over a century without learning to recognize what a man was thinking. His eyes flashed amber as he registered that she knew what he was and was not afraid. On the contrary, she seemed more intrigued, watching him from under her long lashes.
"So, it seems that we may have a small problem," she said, as she moved slowly, sensuously, in his direction.
Her voice was rich, seductive, almost hypnotizing. "You seem to have opened up your little club in my territory. As it happens, we may be able to work something out, you see. I prefer to do my hunting in such places; it is sinfully fun and so easy. They just can't seem to resist me."
She was not holding back any of her vampiric powers of suggestion, preferring to get and keep this wolf under her control. She honestly had no idea if it would work, she had little experience with his kind, preferring, like most vampires, either to avoid or kill them as swiftly as possible. This, however, posed an interesting opportunity.
He stood, silent and motionless, amber eyes following her as she drew nearer, so close she could feel the heat and energy roiling off of him in waves; he was strong, and old. Nearly as old as she. She finally stood close to him, close enough for her breasts to brush the front of his expensive suit.
"Well?" she purred.
