Blood: The Third Course

Chapter One

The club was throbbing, each thump of the base sending a new pulse vibrating through Spencer's body. He moved in time to the music, head tipped back and eyes closed. A chorus of voices sang along in time to the melody, harmonising through his head. They whispered and they screamed, joining to rise to a cacophony of sound that swirled through his head, waiting to be picked out to solo.

It hadn't taken long to find one he wanted, and he was getting better at singling out the voices in his head when he concentrated. He was also getting better at picking out when someone spoke to him instead of just thinking the words. There was a different taste to the words when they didn't leave someone's mouth, as if their tongue tainted them somehow, painted them in fake colours from their lips.

The swirling thoughts of the man he'd picked out at the beginning of the night had been a clear sign he was in for something special. They were jerky and fragmented, a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. When he drank, the swirling thoughts became his own, twisting and turning through his warming body where the man became cold.

The high was just hitting as he swiped a switch knife across the marks left by his fangs. Mixed with the high from Edeline's blood, Spencer was flying by the time he reached the club.

Before Edeline he had refrained from such dizzying highs, but now he wondered why he'd not done this sooner. There was no risk anymore, no cost to fork over before he got his high, and it felt better than it ever had before. That werewolf had been right about one thing, Edeline's blood was like cocaine from a vein, and mixed with the actual cocaine his first feed had taken, it was miraculous. Every light twinkled, each touch felt like heaven, and Spencer thought he might be able to conquer the world.

The voices came thick and fast. Drunken players considered the one they might want to take home while others enthused the music or the drinks. Some questioned if their outfit had been the right choice and some thought they had never looked better. The later the night became, the more fractured the voices as alcohol kicked in and slurred even their thoughts.

The club was far from closing, music beating through him to the point he could remember the feeling of a pulse beneath his skin. The dancefloor had become a writhing mess of bodies, and the screaming was beginning to give him a headache. He couldn't turn it off, no matter how he tried. The blood from the first guy had muddled his concentration. Rubbing the heel of his hand against his temple, Spencer staggered from the dancefloor and up to the bar. He just needed something to take the edge off.

The bar was just as busy as the dancefloor. Spencer sidled in near the end, next to a young blonde girl. She barely looked old enough to be in the place, and from the short dress she was wearing and the heavy make-up, she was definitely looking to impress. Spencer glanced her way as he rested his elbow on the bar, giving her a grin before turning his attention onto the barman.

God man, hurry up.

Vodka or beer? Don't want to have to be back in here a minute.

He's cute. But he'd probably take one look at Heidi and I might as well be invisible.

Spencer rested his chin on his palm, closing his eyes for a moment. He pushed the thoughts away like he was swimming through them, his hands cutting off sentences and sweeping them to the side. Bits of them landed to become sodden and pulled under, never to be heard again. He tried to think of nothing but his breath, slow and gentle in, soft and careful out. Even his own thoughts mixed in with those he was pushing aside. August was slashed in half, leaving 'Aug' drifting in the front of his mind. It had been so long since he'd seen him, but he couldn't rid himself of the blonde completely. He needed to stop thinking, and so far, he'd only found one method that kept the voices—even his own—from his head once after taking Edeline's blood.