Chapter 15

I woke up to the sound of revelers and the roar of rides. It was darker than a mausoleum and it took me a second to remember where I was. I blinked, turned to look at the clock beside the strange bed. The red number nine blinked back at me almost mockingly.

“Friggin’ hell,” I growled, shot up off the bed and ported to my room. I hadn’t meant to sleep this long. I’d needed to call Grace and ask for entry into the library. Now that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Ugh! I hated oversleeping, it always made me feel one step behind and completely unsettled. I grabbed my most eye catching dress. It was a black, gauzy silk with silver threading throughout. It almost looked like winking diamonds in the right lighting. I pulled the dress on, loving the way it hugged my curves in just the right places. It had spaghetti straps and was cut low in both the front and the back, but the skirt flared out at around mid-calf. I liked to call it high-class hoochie. I raced to my closet, pulled out my favorite pair of midnight indigo stilettos with a four-inch heel, and slipped them on.

When I’d seen them in the store I knew I had to have them, they were made of felt and covered in baby skulls, so cute, and a perfect match for the black and purple streaks of my hair.

I walked to the mirror, ran the brush through my hair until it was a glossy sheen of perfection and then made my way toward my ride. When I got there, I found Kemen covering for me.

“You’re awake,” he said, then his eyes grew wide and he gave a wolf howl.

I snorted and patted his hand. “You should have woken me up.”

“You looked too peaceful, Pandora. You push yourself too hard. Good to rest sometimes.”

“So says the sloth.” I winked and grinned to show him I meant nothing by it. He meant well, no point in quibbling over it.

“So where you goin’ anyway?” He gestured toward my dress. “I know you’re not wearing that just to run this ride.” He paused, then his eyes lit with devilish glee. “Don’t tell me it’s for me. I’m flattered.”

Chuckling, I shook my head. “You wish, Casanova.”

“Can’t fault a man for trying.”

I smiled, took ticket stubs from several pairs of hands and reveled in the attention of both men and women. Ignoring the catcalls from a band of teenage boys, I leaned against my booth after I started the ride.

“I’m headed downtown, got some errands to run.”

Errands meaning Sanguinary, I needed to find out what was going on and it seemed like the logical place to start.

He yawned, covered his mouth with his fist. “Want company?” he finally asked.

“Baby, no insult, but I doubt you could hang with me tonight.” I blew him an air kiss.

“You’re probably right.” He grinned. “I’ve got stuff of my own to do anyway.”

“Wow, Kemen is actually gonna do stuff and not sleep. Will wonders never cease?”

“I might be Sloth, but I’ve got a life too.”

“Yeah, where you going?”

He frowned. The happy mood immediately gone, his eyes had grown haunted and distant, whatever he was thinking it wasn’t pleasant. Remembering those books in his trailer, I grabbed his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “Kemen, if you ever, ever need to talk, I’m here for you, babe.”

He heaved a huge sigh and shook his head, the smile was back, but it lacked the warmth of earlier. “I know. Take it easy, and look me up if you ever need to sleep again.”

I hugged him. I’m not usually one for shows of emotion, but I felt he needed it. He looked surprised, then pleased, and hugged me back.

“Take it easy, pest,” he said, and then he returned to his empty booth, plunked himself down on the chair and closed his eyes.

~*~

My heels echoed sharply on the streets of downtown, I’d made a quick pit stop at a local library to find out if I could map quest Sanguinary. It’d been closed, but I could see inside the building so I’d been able to port myself in, turn on enough juice to operate a computer—I might not like modern day technology, but I do know how to use it should the need arise. I really didn’t expect to have any luck, figuring that surely they’d hide the address of their club and make it so that only those in the know could find it. But I’d been wrong.

I ground my jaw, trying to count away the burn of anger churning in my belly. I needed a calm head tonight. I wasn’t here to kill, I kept reminding myself.

Walking down the district was surreal, almost like stepping into a clichéd Hollywood slasher flick. If the streetlamps weren’t burnt out, they were flickering a sickly yellow color. It’d been raining off and on for days now, so the streets were dank, potholes full of brackish water. Several of the buildings I passed were rundown and empty, the windows broken out by vandals or children with too much time on their hands. Even the billboard signs were in a desperate state of disrepair.

The stores that were open were your typical trashy dives. Strip clubs, X-rated theater, questionable bookstores and erotica shops, lights low and wares obvious. This street made me think of Vegas. Definitely could have held its own in sin city. Lust purred, completely in her element.

You’d think on such a cold day, it wouldn’t be busy. But it was. This street hummed with life, most headed in the same direction as myself. Humans mostly, though an occasional Vamp or two among the lot. Those I recognized by the tell-tell pulse. The unfortunate women draped on their arms were dressed to the nines in short black dresses, long hair down and garish “screw me” red lipstick standing out brighter than a neon sign.

I patted my dress, knowing I’d chosen right. Thick smog slithered through the street like a python on the prowl, wrapping foggy tendrils around my legs. I did tell you the vamps were theatrical didn’t I? I wouldn’t put it past them to have hidden fog machines placed at spaced intervals along the way. I rolled my eyes, but pressed on.

I kept to the shadows, waiting for the perfect prey. The men who passed me were all into big, buxom and blonde and the disguise I wanted was something forgettable, yet attractive enough to get me inside.

I heard the club before I ever saw it. The music blared loud enough that the vibrations traveled up the soles of my heels. The haunting, eerily lyrical strain of Type-O Negative filled the alleyway like a siren’s wail. How the cops weren’t here already, as this had to be a serious sound violation, was beyond me.

I scanned the tops of the buildings. I didn’t feel the presence of eyes watching me. How sick is it that in the past few days I’d grown, if not comforted by it, at least accepting of it? It almost felt a little strange not to feel that hot gaze boring down on me.

Finally, I saw the club. Well, the line that rolled into the club at least. I still hadn’t found the right disguise; I couldn’t afford to draw any attention to myself. So I settled against a store front and waited. I wanted to get inside, but I could screw everything up if I jumped the gun. This time, patience was the better part of valor, much as I hated to admit it.

Several minutes passed as I studied the people, looking like some mindless ant colony the way they all trailed toward the club. I continued siphoning information, but none of it worked. These were mostly frat boys out for a good time and all with the same taste. Skinny, cute, tall, willowy, attractive...you see the trend here.

Then it changed. Tall, athletic, gorgeous, male. Gay.

I watched the group of men, laughing, joking around and all projecting lusty thoughts that had nothing to do with women and everything to do with their own sex. They were coifed, good looking, each in their own way. Might have been fun if I’d had more time, I don’t often change myself into a man, but I can. It’s an erotic ride, let me tell you, but again what they wanted was too good looking. So I ignored them and continued my search.

Finally, I found him. He walked with a mixed group of both men and women, but a little outside of them. His head was bent, hands shoved deep into his sports jacket. He was tall, dark, and possibly Hispanic by the tone of his skin. Attractive, but not knock out hot. He wore glasses, but it gave him a sexy Clark Kent vibe. I licked my lips and tagged him as mine. Maybe if I had time later, I’d even feed the beast. Not that I needed to, she was well fed, but he looked like he might be fun.

I became what he wanted, his shameful, dirty little secret. Thankfully I’d worn a dress that could stretch, because I needed the room.

My hips flared out, my breasts grew obscenely large and yet nicely proportioned to my figure. My thighs expanded, tight and firm, but much bigger. My waist grew fuller, curvier. I wasn’t fat, but I wasn’t slim. I’d become Rubenesque, a voluptuous size sixteen beauty.

I stepped away from the shadow and pushed my glamour at him hard. He looked up almost immediately. The brown of his eyes flamed with sexual arousal. I purred and beckoned him toward me.

“Hey, uh guys,” I heard him say, “I’ll catch up with you later.”

“Aww, Adrian.” A fawnish looking girl, petite brunette, cute, grabbed a hold of his arm. “You’re not leaving are you? You promised me you’d dance.”

He licked his lips, Adrian looked my way again. I rested my leg on the wall behind me and pretended to study my nails, secure in the knowledge that I owned him already. I smiled.

He extricated himself from her. “I will, I just...ugh, forgot something in the car.”

I’ve never understood why it is that people can’t be proud of what they like. Who cares what society says is and isn’t acceptable. So what if I was a little larger than your average girl, I was still hot. I wasn’t gonna hold it against Adrian, but I did pity him.

The girl pouted prettily. “I’ll wait for you.”

He gave a weak smile. “Yeah, sure. See you inside.” He waved the group off, once he was sure they were far enough away, he approached me.

I looked up, giving him my best come hither smile.

The pulse point in his neck kicked into overdrive. I trailed my finger along the curve of his jaw. “Hi.”

He fidgeted nervously with his hair. “You umm...” He was so unsure of himself; it was cute in a pathetic sort of way.

I stepped into him, smelling the woodsy musk of his aftershave. I licked my bottom lip. “Yes?” I asked, hoping to prompt him to speed things up.

His mouth parted, his throat worked hard, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t get it out.

I kissed him. Gentle, a press of lips, then a flick of my tongue. He moaned, mouth opening slightly wider so I could slip inside. He tasted of mint and candy, I writhed on him, which only heightened his desire. His biceps bunched as he squeezed my arms tighter. The rough brick bit in my back. His hands enveloped my breasts. I reached between our bodies and rubbed along the seam of his pants. The thick bulge made me sigh.

And though it was nice and even Lust could appreciate the effort, it lacked the heat I felt with either Luc or Billy. I growled, angry I still couldn’t stop thinking about him, and pulled away sharply.

Adrian’s sighs filled the space between us. His eyes were liquid pools of need. He chuckled, he’d clearly liked what I’d done and yet he kept darting glances around the street, at the passing couples and groups looking our way. Their thoughts visibly scrawled across their faces. What was such a hot piece of man meat doing with a fat something like me?

Anger coiled like a hot sling through my gut. There was no way I could break years worth of indoctrination overnight. I didn’t have that kind of time. And I needed to get inside the club. At our present rate I doubted Adrian would ever offer to take me inside the club. He was a creeper, a man who indulged in his fantasies in the safety of shadow, but would never want to be seen with me in public.

Well too freaking bad. I was about to blow his cover big time.

I wrapped my arm around his neck, forcing him to look me in the eye and slammed him with my will. “Take me to the club,” I whispered, leaning in close and then nipped at his ear.

He trembled, looking terrified, but excited. “But I can’t...”

I bit a little harder. He jerked, then moaned. “Take me to the club,” I said again.

“Yes,” he said in the distinct monotone of one under a thrall. I hated doing this, but honestly what a bastard, I wondered how many poor girls’ hearts he’d broken before. Payback was a cruel mistress and Pandora was her name.