Karizma

Chapter 23

Kristopher forced the bile of rage down his throat through his fangs as he observed his night club. Jack had called him back in a state of emergency, claiming that the club had been trashed by some vandals and it needed to be tended to immediately. Kristopher had fought the idea, despised it, actually; leaving Ryleigh alone scared the hell out of him, but she encouraged him to go. He knew that she could take care of herself, but he still hated the idea of leaving her.

Vandalism is too light of a word for this shit, Kristopher thought. His auburn eyes scorched as he clenched his fists. There was no damage to the door or windows themselves, but inside the club was a different story. Broken bottles littered the dance floor and glittered under the sunlight. Shot glasses and clear plastic cups were scattered around the bar, on the bar, in the sink of the bar. Some asshole had even thrown glitter around the bar, which triggered more rage in Kristopher. The glass he could handle, but the glitter would take ten more years just to clean up. His eyes shifted to the walls, graffiti splayed in different colors on each wall, all with the same phrase: Death To The K.

Of fucking course, Kristopher thought with a groan. He was one of the most successful vampires in Vancouver, let alone a vampiric club owner. His clientele was not only human, but varied in the supernatural, primarily the vampiric supernatural. This was a celebration, he thought. When Ryleigh had released her scent with Kristopher, and one minute later masked it again, the rest of the vampiric world assumed that she had been eliminated. Vampires knew that Kristopher was the Karizma Killer, so the celebration of the death of the final Karizma was not only a party in his club, it was a party for him. Since he was not there, his vampiric kin decided to make the most of their celebration and add vandalism to it. They probably thought I'd find this hilarious, he thought bitterly. Animals.

Kristopher sighed and raked a hand through his hair. He slowly made his way up the stairs to the VIP section of his club. He exhaled in relief as he saw that the VIP section had remained untouched, in the pristine condition that he had left it in when he vanished a few days ago. So not complete animals, he thought. They probably thought that he'd find the party carcass below hilarious but knew better than to try and throw a party in his reserved section. He walked back downstairs and made his way over to the DJ table. Please tell me they left you alone, too, he thought. Replacing bottles of alcohol and shot glasses were mere pennies compared to what it would cost to replace an entire DJ table. His hand grazed the records on the table, and he breathed another sigh of relief. Not even a scratch on the records, and no signs of any type of liquid touching the table.

Kristopher turned around and leaned his back against the DJ table, his eyes observing the damage from another angle of the club. He contemplated using his speed to clean the place and be done with it in minutes, but he refrained. He missed Ryleigh deeply, but part of him had been thankful for the distraction. Her constant need to remind him that he was the one to kill her, or someone else will, was beginning to deplete his happiness with her. It became all that they talked about; he understood how serious it was, how real it would be when the time came, but he wanted to at least enjoy the time that they had left rather than focus on why it was limited.

Kristopher crossed the dance floor and entered the storage closet near the bathrooms. He withdrew a broom and dustpan, then made his way over to the bar to start with clearing the glasses and cups. Jack had offered to help him clean the mess, but Kristopher told him not to worry about it. With Kristopher in the wind for the last few days, he knew that Jack could use the stress relief for the time being. I suppose his mind can be at ease knowing that no one actually broke in, Kristopher thought. He grabbed a trash bag from beneath the bar sink and began tossing the plastic cups into it. Not overly comforting knowing that our own customers did this in my absence, but at least it means that no one forced their way in. We should hire security, Kristopher thought with a smirk on his face. Never needed to when I was actually here, no one could pull this shit in my presence.