Before Odessa Ch. 02

The loud, dark nightclub was teeming with the nocturnal freaks. Nikolas was enjoying it more than I was.

Unfortunately, this seedy place was the norm for vampires like us who wanted to stay out of the spotlight. Anonymous was everyone's name here, and that's the way I wanted to keep it. No doubt mainstream had its privileges, but I'd been there before and couldn't deal with the constant anxiety and probing questions. Here, I could observe, unseen, just as I liked it. Humanity's carelessness and farce were entertainment to us. Tragedy ensued, but we outlived it anyway. Why not laugh about it? In the end, it's our playground.

I digress. Nikolas brought me back to the present when he whooped at a naked Asian girl with blue hair who was gyrating wildly on the stage. Even for a centuries old creature, he could pass for a frat boy in jeans and a polo shirt, holding a beer. He had purposely mussed his long blonde hair and when he was relaxed, he looked to be about 22.

I was dressed similarly in ratty jeans and a t shirt, trying to pull off the college guy look. Many young ladies were eyeing us, most of them under the influence of some type of drug induced trance. It would be simple to feed tonight, if we wished. They wouldn't remember a thing and they'd write off the headaches and fatigue as part of an already expected hangover. They'd never even miss that pint of blood.

That realization registered with me vaguely, as my mind was still reeling from Ra's unexpected visit the night before. I had only a few days left to leave for Odessa. I know Nikolas had shared the details of the visit with me, but he had hypnotically pulled them from my mind. I wasn't allowed to know what was going on right now, but I could remember a faint blur of our conversation. I was holding onto a sense of apprehension that I couldn't shake loose from my mind or my gut.

I tried my best to relax and appreciate the female specimens before us. There were a few attractive men here, as well, that I wouldn't mind feeding from. Many centuries of sex with women had bored me occasionally and every now and then I craved intimacy with another man. I wished sometimes that Nikolas would think of me that way but it hadn't happened yet. I doubt it ever would. Either way our bond would be indestructible.

One thing I had learned over the years was that sex and intimacy were interchangeable and in constant metamorphosis. Or maybe I was just an old, ancient whore. The thought amused me.

A woman caught my eye. She was not a performer, but didn't quite blend in with the typical clientele. She held herself differently, with more confidence. She was young, maybe 19. Her black dress was short and sleek, but it looked finely made. Her hair was long and a deep, dark brown. She sat at the bar, seeming aloof to the characters around her.

She did not notice my gaze. She seemed to be surveying the people, the situation. My first thought was that she was an authority figure. That didn't seem right, though. I watched as she discreetly eyed a young black man who seemed to be just as high as everyone else. The group of guys were drinking and tipping the dancers, obviously enjoying themselves. This man was looking a little ill, though. As she watched, he rose from his seat and headed toward a side exit, obviously needing some fresh air.

I looked back to find my mystery woman, but she was not there. Surprised, I turned my eye back to the exit, seeing her as she quickly slipped out the door behind him. She was very fast, like a cat. I made my way quickly to the exit behind them and slid into the alleyway, into the brisk night air. I stood rock still and completely soundless. I listened intently.

I heard a soft gasp, then the sound of a body sliding down a wall and onto the ground. I took a few tentative steps forward and peered around the corner of the building. It was pitch black, but I can see clearly with no light.

She was kneeling over his body as he lay slumped on the ground. I watched, transfixed, as she folded a small cloth and placed it in her pocketbook. I could detect the sweet scent of chloroform in the air.

The mystery lady began to search the young man's body methodically, pulling out all his pockets and checking him for any valuables. Her efforts were rewarded with a wad of cash, a gold chain and a heavy ring. Satisfied, she placed the items in her purse and stood to go.

I was there, in front of her. She seemed surprised, but stood her ground. The young man on the ground was moaning softly. She eyed him warily, then looked at me.

"Is this your friend?," she asked softly. Obviously she was afraid she'd been caught. Her brown eyes were almost black in the darkness.

I chuckled softly. "No, not mine. I was just being curious. There must be no good jobs in the city if you must resort to this."

She looked up at me and regarded me with disdain. "This stupid man doesn't deserve what he has. This is probably drug money, anyway." She looked at the young man, who was now visibly stirring. "I've got to go."

She stepped past me, but I grabbed her arm and held it firmly. "Not yet."

A split second later, the side door burst open and the other guys from the bar came out. At the same time, the man on the ground awoke and started to get up. I didn't think, I reacted.

I grabbed the man by the back of his neck and yanked him up, squeezing him hard so he wouldn't be able to fight back. The man in front of me was holding a pistol in his hand. Obviously he was no stranger to the streets.

I turned my full gaze to him and pressed it into his psyche. He immediately began to swoon under the power of my influence, and his weapon fell to the ground.

Unfortunately, it went off. The bullet came out at a strange angle and entered the mystery woman's thigh. A howl of pain pierced the night and her nails dug so hard into my arm, I thought they would come out and remain imbedded in my skin.

I pulled her to me and in a flash, we were gone. I moved so swiftly that it would seem to a bystander that we had simply vanished. We ended up right beside my car and I pushed her into the passenger seat.

A moment later we were speeding down the road, towards my mansion. I could smell the blood dripping profusely from her body, but right now there was nothing I could do to stop it. Good thing I wasn't starving. Thoughts raced through my head. Why was I helping her? I could have left her there. Humans died each day. She was a thieving predator.

Maybe that's why I wanted to help. We had something in common. She stole people's possessions, I stole their blood. Both could be easily replaced and replicated.

We arrived and I pulled her from the car and carried her into the house. She was turning a ghastly shade of white and whimpering in pain. I took her to my nearest bathroom and set her down gently on the floor. Her breathing was ragged and her pulse was through the roof. I could hear it, and the sound echoed off the bathroom tile.

I smiled at her, looking into her eyes, and gently took her hand in mine. I began to hum a song softly, a gentle tune my mother had sung me at bedtime. She stared at me, transfixed. Her pupils began to dilate and her breathing began to slow. She did not lose consciousness, as I hoped she would, but at least she was numb.

I leaned in and breathed softly into her lips. She drew in a shuddering gasp and her eyes closed. When I was confident that she could no longer feel, I pulled up her dress and went to work on her wound.

I used my fingers to probe into the gash in her skin and pulled the bullet out gently. Then I bit down on my wrist and sliced open a vein. I tilted her head back, parted her lips, and let my blood drip into her mouth. I commanded her to drink, and in her trance, she yielded. Within minutes, her wound was healed and she lay peacefully, a trail of blood dripping down her lips.

The sight was undeniably erotic to a creature like me.