Blood and Lust in New York City, A Lesbian Vampire Tryst Page 3

“Come here, doll. You were amazing tonight,” said Theo, going in for a hug.

  “Thank you so much for coming, you guys. I mean it.”

  “I wouldn’t miss your opening night, even though we sat through about twenty preview performances.” Theo nudged Chris and laughed heartily. “Sorry we couldn’t make the party, sweetie, but from what it sounds like, you didn’t miss us.” He patted her behind and sashayed off to the bedroom. “Goodnight!” he let roll off his tongue in a sing-song tone. Then he stumbled over himself.

  “Theo!” Chris called out.

  “It’s okay! I’m okay,” he said and scratched his head.

  “Since when do you bat for your own team, Emma?” Chris asked. “And what’s with all the leather?” He glared at her. “I’m just gonna come right out and ask: Was that a dominatrix?”

  Emma laughed, and it relieved some of her turmoil. She pinched his cheek. “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

  “Fine,” he said and hugged her again.

  “I think you should take Theo for a walk. To clear his head, maybe?”

  “He is acting awfully bizarre. Some fresh air might do him some good.”

  Emma squeezed Chris with a tight hug. “Thank you.”

  “Theo, we’re going for a walk,” he said beckoning, and winked at Emma.

  She slipped into her bedroom, closed the door and collapsed on the mattress.

  Chapter Four: Skarlet

  I couldn’t help pressing my breasts against the girl’s, tasting her mouth… If Skarlet had stayed a moment longer, she knew she would never have been able to tear herself away. And she had to leave. It was a matter of life and death. There was only one way to save herself and Emma. She needed to secure another human of Scandinavian descent. Replace Emma with a different Norse. Exchange one innocent human life for another, she lamented. But as long as the blood count remained the same, no one would be the wiser. The Commission would trust that Skarlet fulfilled her duties. They had no reason not to. It is wrong, but I can’t help myself. I need to save Emma at all costs. She had hours, a day at most, until her authorities would begin to wonder why she had not returned with her human, so she had to act fast. How to find a Norse on the streets of New York… Her mind scrambled to find a solution.

  She landed in front of a bodega and picked up a “Guide to Restaurants in Manhattan”. Flipping through for Scandinavian food venues, she came across “New Nordic Cuisine.” Plenty of gravlox and herring, she noted. “Noshi, open until one a.m.—perfect.” She took flight, heading back downtown.

  Skarlet casually strolled into the establishment. Single miniature lamps barely brightened each table, the whole restaurant the size of a respectable dining room. The smell of raw fish permeating the air made her skin prickly and she tried to shake it off. Without a specific assignment from the Commission, it would be difficult to determine who might be Norse. She looked for people eating food that most Americans wouldn’t, especially at this odd hour of the night. And if they were fair faced to boot, there was a good chance that human would have a Norse blood lineage. But the only way to know for sure would be a tasting. And Skarlet was starving. She had used up the majority of her adrenaline supply by taking flight, and what remained was depleted during her internal struggle to break away from Emma, whose blood she had been aching to drink. She needed a meal to get her through the night. And deer were hard to come by on the streets of Manhattan.

  She noticed a lean, blond man seated with a mixed group of men and women. Skarlet sat down at a table a few over and ordered red wine, for appearances sake, and the same dish as the light-haired fellow. She stalked the potential prey while regretting her task. Urban assignments were the worst kind. For all vampires, it was always difficult to stay away from humans for feedings. And humans eating food—their digestive organs hard at work, causing the blood to thicken and circulate rapidly—were at their most attractive. She walked around, sizing up the restaurant. An Employees Only back door led out to a dumpster in a poorly-lit alley. Perfect.

  She lifted her glass and smiled at the man when her smoked herring arrived. He smiled back and she winked at him in her most coquettish way. Blond men like dark women. It’s human nature. Her insides were begging for a meal. The starvation was torture, and she felt her throat closing up. No harm in one bite, she rationalized. Just to test him. Men produce more blood than women anyway. She would pass him off as Eric Jones, “Emma,” having been typed in error. That would also help explain why she was so late with the delivery.

  He whispered a few words to his friend, unable to suppress a grin, and got up. Bait taken.

  He was coming over.

  “May I join you?” he asked. His accent was Swedish. Perfect.

  “I suppose, “Skarlet said coyly.

  He sat down.

  “Nice to see an American girl eating herring at midnight. After my heart, are you?” He leaned in, taxing his crisp, pink button-down shirt.

  “I might be,” teased Skarlet and she extended her long leg toward him, her calf grazing his.

  “Wow,” he said, glancing up the length of her legs. He looked back at his friends and nodded. Inching his chair closer, he asked, “You are a fashion model, yes?”

  She crossed her legs. Staring at him lustily, she said, “Let’s get out of here, shall we?”

  The man froze, clearly smitten.

  Men are such easy targets, she thought.

  “Yes, of course. Give me one minute.” He bolted over to his table, fumbled with his wallet and laid some cash out. He spoke to his human brethren, but kept his eyes on Skarlet and returned within seconds.

  Skarlet stood up.

  He put out his arm. “I am all yours,” he said with a smile that almost made him seem charming.

  “Indeed you are,” said Skarlet, squeezing his bicep. “Let’s leave out the back. It’s closer to my car,” She pivoted and he followed.

  “Your car? Okay then, let’s go!”

  She pushed open the Employees Only door and led “Eric Jones” into pitch blackness.

  “Can you make out where we are going?” he asked.

  Skarlet stood by the door, licked her lips and let out a deep sigh. Her fangs burst through her gums, the thrill of the forbidden electrifying her senses. This would be her first taste of a human in years, decades even. I have no choice, she reasoned. But still… She turned to face the man with her ready fangs.

  His own quick breath cut off his speech and Skarlet pinned him against a brick wall. She bit down on his neck, puncturing his thin skin, then pushed her fangs deeper.

  She drank of him, clamped her teeth further and imbibed some more. His blood quenched the longing in her vessels, satisfying her hunger in the most pleasurable way. Human blood, divine!

  After a few lustful swallows, she slowed her intake. The blood of males did not awaken her sexually, making it easier to control herself. Even in her human days, her urges toward her own sex were powerful. But once she was afflicted with vampiria, her sexual inclinations became entwined with her blood lust.

  She enjoyed herself until she felt the man’s body slowing down in her arms, his pulse weakening. She steeled herself and shoved him away. He fell to the ground and began to weep.

  “Why?” he whimpered, afraid to meet her eyes. He touched his neck and his eyes bulged when he saw his hand covered in blood. “What the hell are you?” he cried.

  “You must apply pressure,” Skarlet said and reached down, placing his index fingers on the puncture wounds. He’s perfect, she thought, wiping her chin. She licked the last drops from her hand as her fangs retreated. A pure Norse breed. The Commission should have no reason to ask after Emma with “Eric” in their custody. She readied herself for flight, tucking her hands beneath his underarms when her ears began to ring. She dropped him and fell to the ground from the twisting pain in her eardrums. As it subsided, she heard Emma’s heartbeat. Its rhythm changing. It increased way too rapidly in too short a time. She had been able to hear heartbeats from far awa
y before but never from someone she hadn’t tasted. Maybe enough of Emma’s scent had rubbed off on her during the kiss to give her access to her heart. But something was wrong. The rhythm was much too fast. Emma’s life was in danger for the second time tonight.

  She pressed down on his shoulders. “You will recover, I promise you. Go back inside and eat dessert. Your body needs sugar and water.” She spoke in a hypnotic tone, mandating compliance. She pried the door open, placed him down against it so he would be seen and took off into the night sky.

  “I already told you. I’ve never seen a woman who fits that description. I performed in a show tonight, then celebrated at Fiorello’s restaurant. That’s all.”

  Skarlet stood just outside Emma’s apartment door, listening closely to the voices inside. She sensed the presence of two, maybe three vampires. The Trio—the Commission’s enforcement team. They know. Emma must be terrified, she thought, as her own heart raced.

  “You were not at a warehouse tonight?” one asked her.

  “I think she’s lying,” said another.

  “Please, I’ve done nothing wrong,” Emma said.

  Skarlet was surprised at how quickly they noticed the missing human. Did they actually believe in “the cure”?

  “You don’t seem to understand. Unless you tell us the truth about tonight, we are going to take you and kill you. It’s just a matter of how painful you want it to be. We know you were with one of our agents tonight so I will give you one more chance to tell us what happened.”

  A rage ignited inside her and she kicked down the door. Anhang, Clifton and Cyrus—the Trio members—broke into warrior stances and hissed upon catching sight of her, their fangs dropping down instantly. She catapulted toward Clifton, the largest of the Trio, and swung her leg, digging her stiletto heel into his face until it sizzled.

  “Aahh!” he cried, and Anhang yanked her off him and threw her against the wall, leaving her imprint. Before she could recover, Cyrus connected with a vicious punch to her stomach. She lurched forward to the floor.

  “Skarlet!” Emma shouted.

  “So you do know each other,” said Anhang, demonically.

  Skarlet’s face showed a glimmer of a smile upon witnessing Emma’s concern for her.

  “Stay back, Emma!” she yelled, getting up. Cyrus pinned her against the wall and Anhang ripped a leg off the coffee table. He thrust toward her and Skarlet pulled Cyrus in front of her at the last moment, using him as a shield. The pointed shaft penetrated his chest, staking Cyrus in the heart.

  “No!” Anhang shouted, his jowls shuddering. Skarlet pushed Cyrus off of her and he collapsed onto the floor. Holding her stomach, she coughed up blood. It was the blood of the human she drank from earlier and she couldn’t afford to lose it. That blood was her energy source. She needed it to regenerate her waning adrenaline supply.

  “You killed Cyrus!” Anhang yelled.

  Skarlet zeroed in on a vase a few feet away and mustered the strength to snatch it. She smashed it against the wall behind her as Anhang lunged at her. It shattered and only one thick pointed shard of the china remained in her hands. Quickly and forcefully, she stabbed it into his neck. He dropped down and grabbed hold of her legs, biting into her calf like a rabid dog.

  “Get off!” Skarlet screamed in pain, her adrenaline depleting quickly as he sucked. She inhaled Emma’s scent, and an energy roiled inside her. She flung Anhang off her. Cyrus meanwhile had turned purple, the stake lodged inside his chest. His body was decomposing, shriveling. With all three down, Skarlet was about to run to Emma’s side. But Clifton’s face was quickly healing and he rejoined the fray. Gritting her teeth, Skarlet eyed the chrome sun that hung on the wall and with unfathomable speed, she yanked it off and stabbed Clifton with its sharp rays. Two of them dug deep into him, and a vile, black substance—the bastardized blood of the vampire, poured out his middle as he sank down.

  She removed the sculpture from Clifton and held it in the air, ready to use it again if she had to.

  “Have you lost your mind?” yelled Anhang, pulling the pieces of china out of his neck. “Marion will have your head for this!”

  “Marion sent you?” Marion was the most controversial member of the Commission. Why would Marion be in charge of finding a cure for vampiria? “Marion has no interest in curing vampires.”

  “Everybody wants the cure, Skarlet!” he yelled.

  “Not Marion,” she asserted.

  “It doesn’t matter what you think!”

  Skarlet had never battled other vampires before. Not for real, only in training or for play. But now she was razor focused on defeating them. She made her choice when she revealed herself to Emma, rescuing her from an untimely demise. She chose a human life over the command of her superiors, and surely she would have to suffer the consequences. But not before putting up her best fight. She refused to give up on her existence. Not when she was so close to saving Emma.

  “We’re taking the girl,” Anhang barked and lunged toward Emma.

  “No you are not!” Skarlet yelled at the top of her lungs and hurled the sculpture at Anhang. A single ray lodged in his midsection and he fell back. She ran to him and pushed the ray deeper into his abdomen, blackened blood seeping out.

  “Leave now, Emma!” she yelled.

  “I won’t leave you!” cried Emma.

  “You have signed your death warrant, Skarlet,” Clifton announced, trying to pull himself up. His pupils dilated in anger.

  Skarlet’s body was blood-soaked and out of breath. She heaved over Cyrus’s purple corpse, grotesquely decaying on the sofa. She knew how she must have appeared to Emma—as a ghastly beast. And she couldn’t stand it. Clifton and Anhang pulled themselves up, grunting like the cretins they were, and stumbled out through the window. They needed to heal.

  The air shifted as silence filled the room. Skarlet was alone with Emma, finally, and they locked eyes from across the living room. A hint of a smile began to form on Emma’s face and Skarlet’s shoulders relaxed. She needed to hold Emma, but first had to summon the courage to simply walk to her.

  Just then the doorknob turned. Skarlet immediately readied herself to continue fighting. But it was only Chris and Theo returning from their stroll. They looked at Skarlet, laden with dark blood, their mouths agape, and ran to their friend.

  “Emma!” Chris said, instinctively protecting her from the warrior woman. Unable to face, she turned away and walked into the bathroom. What kind of world had she brought the girl into?

  “Skarlet!” Emma wept.

  She could hear Emma’s roommates trying to convince her to leave with them, and Skarlet wished she would. Even though Emma’s presence was the only thing that gave her strength.

  Skarlet sighed deeply and rested her palms on the linoleum counter, meeting her own eyes in the bathroom mirror. After a moment, she removed her blood-soaked coat, body suit and boots. She turned on the shower and let the water run over all her leather.

  The door pushed open and Emma appeared at the threshold.

  “Oh,” she quickly scanned Skarlet’s naked body. “I’m sorry,” she said with a blush and looked down at Skarlet’s toes, then turned around. “Let me know if you need any help.” She closed the door behind her.

  Alone, Skarlet pressed a finger against herself. You are aroused by much more than the girl’s blood. She brushed past her nipple while washing herself and marveled at the distinct pleasure it brought on. Her senses were heightened around Emma, even when her mood was dour.

  Skarlet dressed herself back in the damp leather and slipped her lizard boots back on. She pulled mascara out of her jacket pocket and hurriedly applied it.

  “Do we call the police?” Theo called out to her.

  “No,” Skarlet barked. She twisted the cap closed, and it left a black residue on her fingertips. She stared down at her hands. Blood still lingered on her skin and under her nails. She looked up and saw Emma again, this time holding a towel, seeming unafraid. Emma hung the towel next t
o her and leaned in past her at the sink. She picked up the soap and rubbed it down Skarlet’s forearms, and through her fingers, their hands enmeshing. Her smell, that sweet female scent, aroused a passion in Skarlet that begged for indulgence. But now was not the time. Emma knew that too, as she gave her hands one final squeeze with a promise of more. She sensed that Emma felt a share of responsibility, or fault, but Skarlet knew better. The blame was all on her. Emma brought none of this on herself. She only wished she had refused to follow orders in the first place. That she had stayed at home in the woods, away from humanity and all its complications. She wanted to cry, but her body wouldn’t allow her to. It was still in warrior mode, muscles stiff, her temperament stoic. And she thought how Emma would never understand how truly different they were. How her DNA changed when vampiria took over her body, her existence.

  Emma placed her thumb on her cheek and rubbed down a dried speck of blood with warm water.

  “You’re not safe here,” Skarlet said, her eyes piercing Emma’s.

  “Neither are you. I guess we have that in common.”

  Skarlet turned around, and faced her. “We must leave.”

  “Only one of them is dead?” Emma asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “How long do we have before the others recover and look for us?”

  “I don’t know exactly, hours maybe. A day or two at most.” Skarlet’s mind raced as she tried to come up with a strategy. It wasn’t a war she was fighting or a principle she was upholding. She simply wanted to save Emma from a torturous internment.

  Skarlet walked back out into the living room and inspected Cyrus to make sure he was deceased. “Emma needs to leave with me. Immediately.” She turned to her. “I need to make sure no harm comes to you.”

  “Skarlet…” she started.

  “The guard is dead. His corpse needs to be moved. Do you trust Theo and Chris to do it?”

  “Tell us what to do and we’ll do it,” said Chris, running his fingers through his hair. He held Theo close to him.

  “We need to get you out of the country, to a concentration of Nords where your blood will blend in. It’s almost daylight, and I won’t be able to help you then.” She said those words with an urgency that she hoped would elicit understanding and do away with the need to explain that her need to sleep was beyond a human urge. “We’re running out of time.”