SWEET BLOOD

Ep. 1.0

The Present

Tell me why I'm here? I ask myself. I had to glamour the bouncer at the door to let me in without I.D. A trick I perfected over the months. I think I'm doing well without a mentor. I stalk through the BDSM club deigned in a tight halter turtle neck leather dress that accentuates my curves. I turn heads when I walk through, both men and women stare. Some even ask if I wanted to "play".

I shouldn't be here. The sound of their beating hearts pumping blood into their veins and the smell of arousal brings forth the predator in me. I'm not on the prowl but yet my fangs are out. So much for trying to keep a low profile.

Here, no one senses something not human about me like they do at the regular clubs. This fits my "dark aura". The club is typical with the mixture of blacks and reds. There was a subconscious awareness that all your fantasies and darkest desires will be fulfilled.

I glide smoothly onto a barstool and signal the bartender. "Ciroc, please. On the rocks."

The bartender gives me a blinding smile. "I get off at two. Why don't you come back to my place?" I was beautiful before I turned and now I'm otherworldly. Something people have a hard time resisting.

Only if I could eat you, that bad voice in the back of my mind provides.

I ignore it of course. "You couldn't handle something like me," I respond and take a grateful sip of the alcohol he places in front of me. He senses it isn't flirtatious banter and backs off. Good for him.

"Mmm... what nice fangs you have," a melodious voice drawls.

Is that a pick up line?

"Excuse me?" I say, placing a hand over my mouth. It isn't that obvious I'm a vamp? Is it?

The stranger moves in closer. "Don't you wanna taste." I nearly laugh at the double meaning. He was a dom. I could tell by the arm armour that covered his wrists and forearms with spikes. Arm bands adorned his biceps. He wore those leather pants better than a model on the catwalk- which is the only thing he deigned to put on. Clearly showing off his fighter's physique. There's a bullwhip tucked securely to his side. I'm guessing for his subs. He's really not out of place here. I've seen worst. For example, the guy walking around practically naked with his sub crawling on all fours dressed in rope.

I shake my head. "Um... no thanks. I'm good." Which is so not true. Vampires are the ravenous type. We get off on blood and sex. And this guy wanted to play. He wanted to play hard.

There is a such thing as blood whores: those who make bank off of being vampire food. I could really use one at the moment. My eyes zero in on the pulse beating at his neck.

No!

Bad Sofie!

He smacks his lips, pouting. "That's too bad. My club caters to ALL patrons' desires. No fantasy is too dark or too perverse." My fangs slid out at the thought of blood. Human blood. I'm both horny and hungry. A bad combination in a vamp's world, I'm learning. Animal blood isn't doing it for me anymore. I fear I may have to drink from a human vein.

Just a taste. Just one little taste can't hurt you, that bad voice whispers at the back of my mind. I'm well aware that I'm no longer a weak human. I'm the baddest predator in this room. I could surely take whatever I want without consequences. So why am I denying myself?

I lean in close. I know what humans are supposed to smell like and his scent is a bit... off. As I'm opening my mouth to speak the man pricks his finger and shoves it into my mouth. The taste of blood explodes across my senses like fireworks. Fuck, he IS sweet. Do they all taste like that? Before I can jump him he whispers, "You looked as if you needed a little bit more persuading. If you want more, my sexy little vampy girl..." the man traces my lips with his own blood. "Follow me."

To be continued...