The Ratchet Vampire Chronicles

Fuck Mediocre

DELANEY

A few weeks into playing with my teammates, I had to shake my head. To make sure I wasn't losing it. A couple of guys on the team seemed to move the ball almost magically. I mean, there was fast, and then there was Quicksilver fast in X-Men. Okay, maybe not that fast, but fast enough that when I looked up from blocking a shot, the ball already sailed through the air again. Then I watched it it swish into the net.

It happened when I played defense against two guys, Esteves and Vaughn. Esteves especially shocked me, because let's face it, there aren't too many Latinos playing strong basketball. There were a few in the NBA, but it was still pretty rare. So when Esteves could move the ball past me so quick it almost looked magical, I began watching closer. Especially from a distance, when he and Vaughn played man-to-man against our other teammates. As they pulled up to shoot, drove the ball inside the paint, and went in for rebounds, their limbs zipped from potential to kinetic energy faster than even the best guys around.

I really had to glue my eyes to catch the speed, or one could easily miss it. They didn't make it obvious. The two of them weren't just speed racing around the basketball court. Instead, they held back for those pivotal moments when other guys crowded around, shoving and pushing, pursuing an open shot. At those moments, Esteves and Vaughn got an extra energy that allowed them to fake, pass and shoot too quick for their opponent. At the perfect time, their jerk or arm motion was just deft and small enough that no one would think of it as anything other than talent.

What the hell? Were they on drugs?

Moving my things to the apartments inside a castle where all the players stayed, I asked Vaughn to help me rearrange my new bedroom set after the deliverymen had already left. The bed was a California king, and those are the worst to handle. He did most of the lifting, with ease. My hands had barely touched the mattress. Entering the weight room one morning, Vaughn was there alone when I caught him lifting two hundred pound barbells with one hand. He added the other hand as soon as he noticed me, and I pretended not to have seen it. If doping was the answer, Delaney Harper would have no knowledge. Granted, men were strong, but Vaughn was slightly freakish, using little effort.

I kept observing. Drills, running, calisthenics, Esteves and Vaughn had a slight edge doing even normal things that humans did. It could have been a simple function like eating or drinking! They seemed to inhale food and guzzle liquid, almost in one swallow. Everyday activities seemed to be mere formalities to them.

What was their deal? They had to be on something.

On the night of our first game, they both dominated, scoring twenty-two and twenty-six points each. After the game, they wowed reporters and fans with suave answers, elegant smiles, and perfect demeanor. Not missing a step or a beat on anything. Just like Fallon.

In casual conversation, tiny sparks ignited their eyes, same as Fallon. And the same perfect, incredibly white teeth. Learning a little more about them, I found out they played ball at tiny, no-name schools no one had even heard of. So when and how had they become two superstars?

"They didn't get that good until they arrived here. That's all I can tell you," Tall Timber answered in his Nigerian dialect. "I don't know if they taking something or what. I been on this team for three years. Fallon seems to pick one or two guys every couple of years. And then those guys become her guys. If you know what I mean. The rest of us don't question it. What can we say? All of us got here because she helped us out, so nobody going to complain. Why you here?" he asked.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder the same thing."

"Well then, be careful, my friend, about asking too many questions. I hear a few years ago, one guy started asking questions, and next season he did not return. Authorities didn't find him in his home country either."

Shit.

In our first season game, I had not performed so bad myself, scoring thirteen points, six assists and four rebounds. It had been a long two months though, without the fam. The upside was that I lived in a freaking castle. Everywhere I went, doors were thrown open. My teammates, the castle staff, food, fans, the press, all of it was indescribable. But the best? Walking on the street, or going out for a jog, and someone stopping me for an autograph or a selfie.

Me.

Between you and me, my heart performed ecstatic flips. Not a day went by that I didn't pause a few moments during my run on the beach, and take it all in. At the same time, during quiet moments, I wished I could share it with Bree, my angel. And deeper down, another part of me wished I could feel my dick jammed inside Haley's soft pussy, revel in her lush canal and her scent, right here on one of these piers jutting into the Atlantic. I also wondered where was OctoPussy.

Damn, when would I get more of her? The hunger and cravings had died down some since I had arrived in France, but not completely. I'm sure Fallon had taken it away so I could focus on my game.

But speaking of Fallon, she had not appeared at all since I arrived in France. Only in the minutes before we took the floor for our first game, did she enter the locker room. Wearing a crisp navy pantsuit and a white and navy fedora, with 1920's two-toned Oxfords. Looking each one of us in the eye, she shook our hands, shared a laugh, and in quite an impressive short, but meaningful speech, asked us to believe in ourselves more than she did. After we won our first couple of games by double digit margins, and the new players demonstrated that we had sufficiently worked our asses off the last couple of months, the team finally let us breathe for a couple of days.

That gave me all the time in the world to miss Bree and Haley. Sure, the fellas and I hit the night scene. The girls were hot, gorgeous, and swinging their hips, rich little Daddy's girls who had come here to play. Tall Timber and Bump took two or three back to the castle, starting to fuck before we had even left the members-only night club. But I didn't know anything about these foreign women, their motives or what they were about. Especially now that I had some kind of name here.

On one of our nights off, I was finally beckoned to the high end restaurant Le Spinnaker. Inside a booth was Fallon. Since she was clearly in my head, she must have already known my forlorn helplessness.

"You can have them both," she offered, her firecracker eyes narrowing as she sipped wine.

"What?" Once again, she had thrown me into befuddlement.

"You heard me. If you want your women, keep them. Both," she replied. Poised and relaxed, those lips parted and I watched her tongue slide across her teeth. "And whatever else you want."

Whoa. I'd never heard a woman talk like that.

I coughed. "Come again. No woman would ever go for that."

"Only because you're not the kind of man who commands it," she replied. She waved her hands, motioning around the restaurant. "What woman would turn down all this?"

I chuckled a little. "Bree would. She's already got a good life. Not looking for that. She just wanted her arm candy next to her. If I'm not going to be that, she could care less about money."

"I'm not talking about money." I watched Fallon's scarlet lips barely move. "I'm talking about power. Real power. No woman has ever turned away from that. No matter how noble she is."

Of course, my curiosity forced me to the next question. "Can anybody have this real power? Or is it just for you rich folks?"

Her irises flickered, their little golden sparks stroking my insides. She murmured, "Are you asking because you want it?"

My chest started to pitter patter. Damn. Fallon had already proved she was no average person. I had no clue what her kind of power meant. But her presence alone ignited that restless craving in me that kept my dick hard, and it wasn't lust. She aroused another kind of longing that left me hungry to devour the world. What the fuck game was I playing? I swallowed. "I'm asking because I might."

"Perform. And you won't be able to handle it all," she said, setting down her wine glass.

Fuck mediocre. I had spent my whole life being almost the best. Whatever Esteves and Vaughn were taking, I wanted it.