tagErotic HorrorQueen's Night Ch. 04

Queen's Night Ch. 04


Chapter 4! Wow, this one flowed really fast. I want to thank my editor as usual for kicking my butt and making sure that this didn't sound like a bunch of gobbledygook. As always, please, read and review!


He was stroking himself.

That caught Alyse's attention faster than anything else could have. Parker had stepped into the shower, trying to take care of a rather impressive case of morning wood.

She watched as the hot water ran over every crevice of his naked body. Men built like that shouldn't be allowed to be around women, she decided. It was far, far too dangerous. Alyse had never thought of herself as particularly catty, but she'd rip out the eyeballs of any women who tried to take him away.

She watched as his hand glided over his shaft. She desperately wanted to taste it. It was thick and healthy, certainly enough to get any girl hungry. With the way his hand glided over his cock, she felt her mouth water.

His breathing grew into labored grunts, and he pressed one hand to the shower wall, bending forward. His hand stroked faster, harder, and Alyse wanted to beg him, beg him to cum. She wanted to see him cum, see his pleasure that he took it for his own.

He stroked faster, rougher, grunting, groaning. She watched with anticipation. "Come on, cum for me." She whispered. At that moment, his eyes shot up, meeting her gaze.

Alyse shot up out of bed, her entire body moving so fast she could swear her heart was beating again. Those eyes, those eyes were shocking. They couldn't have been human, could they? They were like storm clouds, they were so dark.

She pulled on her robe, and headed out of her bedroom. She saw Presten, as always, brewing her morning coffee. "Presten," She growled. "Tell me what you found out about Parker McLaren, or I will rip your throat out and have your blood with a New York steak."

Presten offered her a patient smile. "Of course, Majesty. What would you like to know first?"

"Who is he?" She asked, moving to sit at the small table in the kitchen.

"Agent Parker Francis McLaren." Presten said, reciting from pure memory. "Born February second, nineteen-eighty-five. Mother is Louisa McLaren, father unknown. Louisa died in childbirth, and there were no living relatives. Parker was then raised by Reginald and Deirdre Perry, his foster parents. He's been with the Colorado Bureau of Investigation for three years now, and is a senior investigator in the Violent Crimes Division."

"You make me wonder why every girl doesn't dream of having a butler when she's all grown up." Alyse sighed. "Why is he here, Presten? Surely the CBI has better places to look around than here."

"You remember the body they found near the river last week?"

"Ah..." A smile of realization grew on her face. "Then I believe I have little time."

"Time, Majesty?" Presten inquired.

"I want him, Presten." She sighed. "It's not logical, it's not even smart."

"Want him?" He arched a thin eyebrow at her. "Majesty, he is a state agent. You cannot simply go biting him..."

Alyse glared at Presten. "You think I don't know that?" She hissed. "Trust me, I know. But that doesn't help the feeling. When I saw him, it was...it was like I was on fire. I haven't felt like that in centuries, Presten, and it felt good. And I want that. I want that to myself."

"You sound rather possessive." He remarked.

"I sound like a were in heat." She huffed indignantly. "Not really becoming of a vampiress, is it?"

Presten gave her a look that clearly said it wasn't.

"Okay, fine," She sighed. "What time is it? I didn't get to see my clock before coming out here..."

"It's half past four in the afternoon." Presten replied.

"Oh, wow, I really slept in, didn't I?" She searched her thoughts. "And I'm supposed to meet Philomena in an hour, aren't I?"

"Yes, Majesty." He smiled politely. "I'll get her something if she gets here before you're ready?"

Alyse grinned. "You're an angel, Presten." She said, and left for her room. She showered quickly and pulled her dark hair back. She dressed in a simple pair of crème slacks and a white blouse, and hurried out back into the main part of the house.

Philomena was already sitting at the kitchen table. She was a tall woman, and that was evident even as she sat. Her gold hair hung in lovely little curls, and her skin was tanned, unlike most vampires.

Lucky bitch, Alyse thought to herself. But, jealousy had its place, and this was not one of them. "Mina, my darling." Alyse offered a smile. "How are you this afternoon?"

Mina turned to face Alyse. "Why, Alyse, I'm quite well. Presten just got me a cop of coffee. I have to say, I'm envious. Not many have a Servant proper, these days."

"Presten is a special case." She said. Presten was, in fact, one of the last of a client race of the vampires. Part-Sidhe, he had come from the Other Side one hundred years ago, one of only a few dozen of his race left.

"Of course he is," Mina smiled.

Alyse took a seat at the small table. "So, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?" She asked. "How is that new boy toy you were bragging about last week?"

"Oh, Eric?" She smiled. "Mm, it didn't work out. We went our separate ways." She said.

"Oh, a pity. He seemed nice." Alyse answered. The young man had certainly been a treat, and his blood had smelled delicious. "So, what brings this visit?"

"You remember the theory Damon shared with you, Alyse? About those...half-breeds?"

"Of course, quite the talk. Why, are you doing research of your own?"

"Indeed. And I have to tell you, my findings have been most interesting."

Alyse leaned forward, meeting Mina's green eyes with her own. "And what have your findings told you?"

"These half-breeds. They're unique amongst us. Tell me, what is the problem that our race faces?"

"Simple." Alyse remarked. "We need blood to survive, and it's hard to find donors."

"My belief is that this...half-breed blood would have certain properties." Mina explained. "They'd be able to satisfy our hunger better, as our blood is closer to what theirs is." She took a sip from her mug. "They'd be the perfect food."

"Well, that is...fascinating." Alyse said. "Tell me, how'd you come to this?"

"I can't reveal my methods just yet. I'm still researching this currently, but all will be revealed soon, I promise."

"Very well, Mina. Best of luck with your research."

"Thank you, Alyse." Mina bowed her head in deference. "If you will excuse me, I have to get back to work."

"But of course, Mina." She smiled. "And you always know, I love to hear your findings." The two of them stood, and Alyse led her to the door.

When Mina was gone, Alyse started to think on things. Sheriff Kelly, the bitch, was going to make her pup deputies tail Agent McLaren around, out of some belief that Alyse was going to make that beautiful man her next meal. Well, she was, but she wouldn't kill him. Killing something like that, no.

She'd steal him away, she realized. It was the only way she could get him without Kelly pushing her nose into the situation. "Mine," The word dropped from her lips, a whispered promise to herself.


"So, that was helpful." Sarcasm dripped from Parker's voice. The first doctor, a man named Damon Christie, had offered nothing useful, and had said he'd never seen Eric Standwell before in his life. Doctor Philomena Wright hadn't even been in today. "How do you guys even have two genetic researchers in this town?"

"Word is they started up their labs about the same time." Rick said. "I dunno, maybe they know each other?"

"Well, we've run into dead ends there. We can try with Wright tomorrow." He said, and then checked his watch. "It's five-thirty. Want to call it for the day, pick it up tomorrow?"

"Well, how about we go blow off some steam?" He said. "Happy hour?"

Parker grinned. "Never been to a happy hour, believe it or not."

"You're kidding." Rick arched an eyebrow at home in disbelief.

"Not really. I was an intern for a year, and after that, I was the junior investigator who worked hard and never played. By the time I made senior investigator, I wasn't making any friends. I work Han style most of the time."

"Han style?" Rick asked.


Rick snorted in laughter. "God, that's good-and really dorky."

"You're talking to a guy who owns every season of Buffy on DVD." Parker grinned. "Just a little bit of a geek."

"Don't worry, I'm a bit of one too. Come on then, Rhett's is right down the street." He said, and they started walking. "So, what do you staties carry?" He asked.

Parker brushed back his jacket for his holster. "Personal sidearm, actually. It's a CZ-75."

"Snazzy." He grinned. "I carry a forty-five myself."

"Nostalgia from the service days?"

"I will admit there's some." Rick said. "Though it's the department issue one. We all carry them."

"Even Kelly?" Parker asked, trying to imagine the short sheriff with that kind of heat.

"Sheriff likes shotguns, actually. We shoot skeet once a month, whips all our asses." Rick chuckled.

"Get out!" Parker laughed. "So, what's her story?"

Rick furrowed his brow. "I don't follow."

"What's her deal? She's like five-four, looks like she weighs less than a feather."

"I dunno. She's been sheriff here for about five years now. Was here when I got onto the job of her deputy."

"But she's from around here." Parker kept at it.

"Listen, it's not a big deal. She's sheriff." Rick insisted. "It's her history. If you want to hear about it, ask her yourself. "

"I like my head where it is." Parker teased. "Just was curious anyways." He said as they turned onto a side street.

They reached the bar, a building twice the size of either of the small stores on either side of it. "Guys like your bars much?" Parker teased Rick.

"It's the only one we have." He said. "Rhett's is pretty good, for what it is."

"And what is it?" Parker asked as Rick opened the large wood door.

"The only place in town." He smirked, and they walked in. If it wasn't Parker's idea of an ideal bar, it was close. Nice, subdued colors, sports décor on the walls, and just the right amount of noise.

Rick led him to a small booth off to the side. "Particular about your booze?" Rick asked him.

"Not really. I'll have whatever you have." Parker said. He'd never been too picky.

"All right, back on a minute, man." Rick said, and stood. Parker let himself relax a little, taking off his jacket and unlooping his holster, which he quickly hid in the pile of fabric that his jacket provided.

He took a minute to observe the crowd of the bar. Most were larger men, who Parker assumed worked for the logging company. There were a few men dressed in more business-appropriate clothes, with one or two men in suits.

And then there were the servers. Parker could have sworn he was on spring break, just from the girls serving the booze. Each one was as hot as all hell. Parker guessed, perhaps a little randomly, that the tips here had to be insane.

Rick returned a minute later, carrying two glasses filled with beer. The two of them had a few rounds, with garlic fries interspersed. The Avalanche were kicking ass, and the two officers started to chat about sports teams and their respective schools.

At around eight, Rick's cell phone rang. He pulled it out and checked the caller ID. "Crap, it's the sheriff. I'll take this, be right back, okay?"

Parker nodded. "Sure thing, man." He said, and Rick stepped away to find somewhere quiet to take the call.

He continued to watch the game. Parker hadn't been paying attention to his surroundings. That is, until he felt a sharp, visceral pain hit him in the stomach. He curled forward in his seat, grunting in pain. "Aw, hell," He whispered.

Parker bit the inside of his cheek, focusing himself. No, he wasn't going to pass out again. He steeled himself, ignored the rising pain.

He shifted himself, looking back towards the rest of the bar. There, standing at the edge of the booth, was the woman from his dreams.


Alyse came into Rhett's through the back door. She greeted her assistant with a polite nod, and sequestered herself quickly in her office.

This was frustrating. Back in the days of her first century, she could have just grabbed him and be off with it, headed for another county. But, half a millennium later, there were protocols which had to be followed. One could not steal a state investigator away from an assignment, and out from under Sheriff Kelly's nose, without serious repercussions.

She had favors she could call in, but she did not want Parker to be kidnapped by those who might harm him. No, she wished him safe.

Rachel knocked and entered when Alyse bade her to. "Miss Harcourt?" Rachel began. "There's a man who looks ill in the bar."

Alyse stood from behind her desk. "Well, I suppose I should take a look."

They walked out to the bar, and almost immediately, Alyse tensed. A wonderful, lovely scent filled her nose. It was that same scent from yesterday. Masculine, sensual, delicious. She homed in on it, walking through the bar.

She reached the booth, and saw him. He was curled in pain, but she knew exactly who he was. Alyse was almost afraid to reach out, to touch him. She was afraid that this was a dream, and she might dispel the illusion by touching him.

His head spun to face her, and she looked down at him. Their eyes met. Those storm cloud gray eyes centered in on her. The pain gleamed through his eyes.

She knelt down next to the booth, and whispered to him. "Hello, Parker." Her voice was soft, almost silent in the noise of the bar. But she knew, instinctively, he would hear her.

His voice rasped, low and rough, like a good drink. "You."

"Yes, me, Parker." Alyse's mind raced as she thought. This wasn't how she'd planned it at all. No, she needed to act, quickly.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked. The pain was leaving him, and he pulled himself to sit up.

"Come with me," Alyse whispered. "And I promise you, I will explain everything."

His voice cleared, though it was still delightfully low when he asked. "Why should I trust you?"

Normally, she would work a magick on him, force him to trust her. But she knew, somehow, that would not work on him. "Because, Parker, I would never, ever hurt you."

"I trust you." Parker didn't even wait to respond, it sounded like instinct to Alyse.

"Then come with me." She extended her hand to him. Parker grabbed his holster and slipped it on, before putting on his coat.

"What's wrong with me?" He asked, and their eyes met again.

"There is nothing wrong with you." She promised. No, this was good. Somehow, she knew that. His hand settled in hers. Calloused, large. Alyse shivered at how warm it was.

She led him away, towards the back. When they reached the back, Parker finally said. "I don't even know your name, woman."

"Alyse." She said. "My name is Alyse Harcourt."

"Alyse," His voice echoed. "My dreams, are they real?"

"I'm not sure, Parker." Alyse said. "But I plan on finding out."

A sound behind the two of them made her turn around, facing the door back to the main bar.

Deputy Rick Fisher stood in the doorway, his pistol drawn. "Alyse. Let him go." His voice was growling, almost bestial in its tone. "Kelly's said you're to stay away from him."

She bristled. The puppy wanted to keep her from what was hers. Her own instincts took over, and she stooped, ready to pounce. "Stay away, pup. I am not going to let you or your bitch of a boss separate me from him."

"You don't want to make an enemy of her, Alyse." Fisher threatened. "Back. Off. Now."

Alyse spun on him. She let go of Parker's hand. "Stay here, Parker." She said.

"Alyse..." Parker started, his voice wary.

Before he could voice anything further, she bounded at Fisher, rushing towards the deputy.

"Alyse, no!" Parker shouted as she slashed at the were's throat, and Fisher squeezed the trigger.


Yea, it's a cliffhanger. Thanks for reading. Drop a comment below if you feel like it. Writers live off commentary, you know? It's a scientific fact.

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