Rockerboy thought he was the only one who could sing? Well...good thing it was Karaoke Night (now that she'd utterly charmed the sweet boy behind the counter into declaring it such, hooking her little barbs into the lips of his mind and kissing them to compliance
Both of them had long kept the Prey in their sights...that pretty girl with the smooth, long legs and the drawn, hungry gaze, drifting along with her friends; sure enough that poor, wooden boy was trying to ply her with plastic words and cheap beer but Mizrah and Monroe could tell she wasn't having it. Yusuf could smell her sweat clinging to the cheerful gold, thin fabric of her shirt, while Monroe could hear the throb of her pulse like a jazz drum above the bar's cacophony.
"What do you think it was?" Mizrah's voice broke through the rhythmic thud of the girl's heart, tracking his nails down her arm gently. She didn't pull her attention from the mark, stroking her finger over the top of his chest thoughtfully.
"Hmm, got dumped maybe. Those pretty eyes are heavy with heartbreak, don't you think?" Monroe was flicking through the song list on the bar's booze-stained little tablet, smiling when she found an old favorite, picking it to sing first.
Perfect,
she thought.
"Dunno. She looks scared...like she really needs a distraction from whatever's yanking on her nerves, see? Bit of sweat there, dripping down over the top of her breast..." the Lupine whispered, leaning closer provoking her to smile like a damn fool again; her facial muscles were a little sore from laughing at his jokes, leering when he strummed the strings of her lusts. Monroe did, indeed, track a droplet of sweat slowly trickling down the soft curve of her chest and brought Mizrah's hand to her lips, nibbling lightly, thoughtfully on his knuckles.
They didn't say anything for a time, simply...toying lightly with each other, admiring the lonely girl in the yellow bandanna, sitting there uneasily with her oblivious friends. After a time, her dark eyes did take them in once more; that feverish mind was perfectly susceptible to Yusuf's primal magnetism, Monroe's dark temptation. She felt it in the pinprick-heat intensity of Mizrah's stare. She could almost taste it, how Monroe's tongue peeked lightly over her canine tooth.
"Alright - this thing on - " the bartender tapped the microphone, feedback whining painfully through their hearing, and one recognized the other's discomfort with a subtle smirk. "So I was presented with a very convincing case to host karaoke tonight, uh...it's what we're doing here at Alchemy!" Scattered applause broke out through the bar, stirring golden-girl from whatever sorrowful, heated reverie occupied her mind while she stared with growing desire at the monsters in the shadows of the spotlight.
"First up tonight we got Miss Carter, give her a round!" Monroe plucked the microphone from his hand and rose from her seat, approaching the center of the bar, and they were captivated by her. The bar was gripped with quiet murmurs of interest like a bloodshot eye, at the rainbow-haired beauty whose presence bloomed amidst them like a colorfully dark, thorned flower. An unseen, crimson smoke tinged with the power of her Blood radiated outward from her..
Suddenly all eyes were upon the revolution's leader, breath catching in still-living throats as every patron in the bar breathed her in and became simultaneously hooked. Their eyes, dimmed by the rigor of life, took on some of the heightened sensitivity of the Vampire's gaze and pupils dilated to the amber seduction in her gaze; the firm roundness of her bust; the cinnamon-tinged confidence with which she flowed among them, like a viscous fluid given a woman's form. She let each patron feel her eyes pass like a paintbrush over them, a momentary glance that made them feel special, marked for a spare moment...but it was the girl with the sun-bright bandana and the smooth thighs who held the spotlight of her stare longest.
The comely young woman with the sorrowful eyes and the sweat-sheened skin shifted in her seat, which suddenly seemed at once too wide and too small for the flare of her hips; her rouge-painted lips parted with a sharp exhalation when Monroe gave her a saucy wink.
"This song," she began in a sultry tone that cut through the red smoke and past every mortal's eardrum, "is for a man I just can't quit...no matter how much trouble he causes me
Yusuf's wide, ivory-bright smile looked so natural on his roguish face, compared to the sadness she'd caused him earlier. For a moment she forgot about the Prey, and he was the only person she cared to acknowledge. The whole winding, difficult path she'd walked since meeting this man had been defined by its ecstatic, heartfelt highs as much as its hopeless, frustrated lows...she'd been among the living when she first heard this song. Never had it feel more appropriate now that she drifted through night after night, warmed never by the sun but by his primal heat.
Peter Murphy's low, emotive violin and guitar were not what anyone else was expecting and only a few patrons recognized the song. None but Mizrah, however, would understand its meaning and depth, and the smile writ across his face faltered as she sang right to him.
"Calling like a distant wind,"
"Through the zero hour we'll walk,"
"We'll cut the thick and break the thin,"
"No sound to break no moment clear,"
"When all the doubts are crystal clear,"
"Crashing hard into the secret wind."
If you asked Monroe, she'd say the show was absolutely stage-worthy with her melodic alto voice like whiskey-splashed dark coffee, and the sultry command with which she pushed Yusuf back against the bar. This song was for him alone...the performance accompanying it, of course, meant to entice the lovely little saffron moth they'd followed from Alchemy to fly toward her flame; blood in the water only she could smell. She leaned close to Yusuf, her fingers dancing up from the base of his neck to his chin, then running through his Assyrian-dark hair.
"You know the way,"
"It twists and turns,"
"Changing color,"
"Spinning yarns,"
"You know the way,"
"It leaves you dry,"
"It cuts you up,"
"And takes you high,"
The microphone was inches from both of their lips when she pushed away, turning with a flourish to face the object of their mutual desire, smug at the feel of Yusuf's pinprick-heat gaze following the sway of her ass. The girl's doe-dark, sad eyes were bright and well-lured, pulled from the anonymous stew of her inner turmoil. Monroe, pinning her with her voice like a butterfly against a corkboard, hooked a single finger into the hem of her sweater - that sad sap she'd come with said something she didn't hear, fixated on Monroe's cobra-charm.
"You know the way,"
