Read The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) Online
Authors: Travis Luedke
Michelle made a stop at the mall to browse for some beauty
products and found a couple pairs of sheer G-strings to purchase for her next
adventure with Aaron ––
scheduled for about 3 hours from now
. She caught
another taxi, arriving at the Ramada Inn at exactly eleven o’clock, right on
time.
As she knocked on the door to Room 322, she hoped this
wouldn’t be another disgusting politician. How nice it would be to spend her
evening meeting someone enjoyable for a change. The man who answered the door
seemed out of place. He didn’t fit the profile of the aging wealthy clients
she usually dealt with. His young, fit, Latin looks and accent were too
attractive. Why would he pay a thousand dollars an hour for a couple hours of
fun when he could pick-up most women in a night club? He carried himself with assurance
and confidence. Not the type who needed to pay for a woman’s attentions.
He introduced himself as Talco. Her finely honed instincts
sensed something wrong. He didn’t follow her properly into the room. Instead
he closed the door, locked it behind him, and remained where he stood. She
stretched her senses, trying to smell, taste, hear, or feel what it was that
had put her on the defensive. She heard two heartbeats and respirations in a
nearby room, but nothing she could put her finger on as the source of her
anxiety.
She turned around to study Talco. His aura exhibited the
coloration of nervousness and anticipation––a fairly normal set of emotions for
clients awaiting a prostitute. She noticed he had a hint of something else, like
the caged aggression of a boxer preparing to enter the ring. He seemed to be
guarding the door. By the time she realized that’s exactly what he was doing,
it was too late.
Suddenly the side door leading to the adjoining room slammed
open, and the two detectives she’d confronted two weeks earlier marched into
the room. The look of recognition and satisfaction on their faces spoke
volumes.
She turned whip-fast towards Talco and the door, but he was
prepared for her with a Taser in hand. She surveyed the room for another
possible exit and noticed both cops also had Tasers drawn and held in ready
position.
She studied the unwholesome lust for violence and vengeance
displayed in the detective’s auras. They lacked any of the benevolence found
in decent law enforcement officials. This was not an arrest related to police
business. This was premeditated murder.
As she considered her options she realized she was no longer
alone in the world to face such dangers. She reached out to Aaron through the
channel of their psychic bond and beamed a powerful directive: COME NOW! I
NEED YOU! I’M TRAPPED!
With the confidence Aaron was on his way, she debated
against waiting for him or taking extreme action alone. She preferred not to
give the police a chance to do anything preemptive. She needed to do something
to buy time for Aaron to arrive. She would take her chances and fight her way
out.
She leaped at Talco, gaining speed and force to take him out.
Luck was with him. His Taser fired into her chest at the last second,
instantly dropping her to the floor. She’d never been tasered before. It was
a new lesson in pain. She hit the carpet jerking in extreme agony, all her
nerve endings firing. Her muscles seized up tight as 50,000 volts screamed
through her nervous system. Talco kept the Taser engaged non-stop until one of
the cops yelled, “Enough! She’s toast already!”
Immobile on the floor, but still conscious, she caught a
quick breath, and slammed up into Talco, throwing him across the room to smash
against the wall. She was three feet from the door when the detectives hit her
simultaneously in the back with both their Tasers.
They held the juice to her non-stop while Talco recovered
and joined them for the combined effect of three different electric charges
hitting her in unison. The white-hot pain of electric shock blotted out her
world.
* * * *
Aaron stood on the roof of the apartment building he called
home, looking out over the city, breathing in the aromatic night air. He
recalled that first night, when Michelle forced him to jump. He’d resisted her
at every step, but the changes she brought to his life couldn’t be undone. He
wouldn’t have it any other way, for better or worse, he was committed to making
this work out between them. That’s when it hit him.
A jolt of intense NEED from Michelle smacked his psyche, knocking
him to the ground with its power. He heard her scream as though she were
standing next to him. His being was possessed with the overpowering compulsion
to reach Michelle NOW. She was about twenty miles away on the third floor of a
hotel.
He was up and running in an instant, rapid fire. He hit the
edge of the building and jumped with every last ounce of strength, flying
across to the other building. He hit the ground running and kept on going,
leaping from rooftop to rooftop until he reached a building extending ten
stories above his level. Without pause he turned and barreled towards the main
street, flowing in the direction of the hotel. He leapt down from the roof to
a lower corner store and then down onto the street.
His mind raced through scenarios, imagining what could be
wrong, galvanized with fear for her wellbeing. With his mind opened wide to
their bond, he felt the blinding agony of excruciating electric shock. He
staggered, going down on all fours in a haze of pain. He was dizzy, nauseous,
it was too much. He couldn’t help her and share her pain at the same time. He
reeled his mind back from Michelle and blocked himself into his mental vault.
With a clear head and a renewed sense of urgency, he jumped
up and raced down the street, picking up speed, leaping across intersections,
careening off moving vehicles. He vaulted off parked cars and dodged left and
right as he negotiated the obstacles in the streets and sidewalks. In his urgency,
he moved heedless of who might witness him and remark on such super-human
displays of speed.
* * * *
Michelle awoke to throbbing waves of pain lashing across her
entire body. Every limb, all her fingers and toes, every single hair on her
head, every molecule in her body, radiated nauseating pain. She heard cursing
in Brooklyn accents interspersed with Talco’s exclamations in a mixture of Spanish
and English, then the click-snap of Taser cartridges reloaded. Time to drag
her sorry ass off the floor and do something.
She suddenly spun on the ground kicking out in all
directions. She was lucky enough to catch someone in the knee, knocking him
down. With a target acquired, she kicked out again, hard in his groin. She
scrambled up and over his body to grasp his weapon. As she turned toward the
other cop, Taser in hand, the fat bastard had his gun drawn. He fired three
shots point blank, piercing her right shoulder, and throwing her against the
wall where she slumped to the floor.
She lay there in shock and disbelief, bleeding out all her precious
blood onto the hotel carpet. She was closer to death than she’d been in decades.
She reached out to Aaron with a desperate psychic cry, screaming with all her
consciousness for him to save her life. A few seconds everything faded to
black.
* * * *
Vertigo punched him viciously. He stumbled to a halt,
falling in a tumble across the sidewalk as the psychic backlash hit him with a
tsunami of Michelle’s desperation tearing through his mind. The force of her
desperate need delved deep into his psyche, unhinging logic and reason. A primeval
consciousness took over Aaron’s mind and a massive adrenaline high slammed him
into extreme overdrive.
He screamed into the night, a blood curdling sound of
bottomless rage. He rocketed down the street, a blur of movement. The
unchained Predator knew instinctively there were too many obstacles on the
street, too many people with their complications. He leaped to the side of the
nearest building, bounding upward to catch the lip of the brick at each window,
defying gravity and gaining momentum. Reaching the top in seconds, he leaped
across to the next building’s roof, soaring from building to building, a streak
of black lightning across the skyline. The Predator preferred the high ground
for strategic hunting advantage and a better view of the target.
The Predator reached the Ramada Inn within moments. He
sailed through the window of an unoccupied third floor room. He landed in the
center of the room, flowing with his momentum. He smashed through the door into
the hallway and barreled towards Room 322.
* * * *
Talco knew a mess when he saw one. “I’m fuckin’ outta here!
I don’t know what kinda drugs that bitch is on, and I don’t care. I’m not
getting dragged into a homicide investigation. You’re on your own!” Stepping
into the hallway, he came face to face with a demon from hell sent to collect
his due. He had waited a moment too long to make his exit, and the time had
come to answer for his sins. The last conscious thought echoing through Talco’s
mind was the beginnings of the
Our Father
prayer. He never made it past
who art in heaven.
* * * *
The Predator read Talco’s shock and anxiety at having
witnessed Michelle’s execution. He could see the gruesome image in Talco’s
mind as he made the grave mistake of stepping directly into the Predator’s
path. He plowed right through the man, hitting Talco with a crushing blow to
his chest, slamming him into the wall at the end of the hallway. He rendered
the unconscious in one move.
As he tore the door off the hinges to Room 322, the Predator
read the detective’s minds revealing their premeditated attack on Michelle.
Their scheme had unraveled fast. They were forced to shoot her here in the
hotel instead of disposing of her in the back alley as planned.
The detectives must die.
There would be none of the mercy given to Talco. Moving in
slow motion, they telegraphed their intent to draw down on him with their
firearms. He moved wicked fast, smashing Oberman in the chest. Oberman sailed
through the air backward, exploding the sliding glass door and flying over the
balcony into the parking lot below. It happened so fast that to the unaided
human eye it seemed the Predator teleported into place where Oberman was
standing.
The Predator slipped into position as though filling
Oberman’s vacuum. In a sweeping arc of his claws, he swiped the flesh from
Konowicz’s throat like a hot knife carving through butter.
The Predator latched onto the gaping wound, guzzling down
Konowicz’s life blood as it sprayed and gushed from his body. He drank his
fill, engorging himself until there was no fluid left to consume. He flung the
limp, lifeless sack of flesh to the ground and retrieved Michelle’s blood-soaked
body cradling her to his chest.
He had dispatched all three men in under five seconds flat,
threats neutralized. The stench of blood was overpowering, calling him to
feed. All that adrenaline, all that bottomless rage and power, and now what?
He burned to kill, to rend and tear flesh, to crush bones, to devour the cattle
herding in the streets below. He could smell, hear, and taste their idle flesh
there at the edge of his senses as they went about their meaningless pursuits.
It would be all too easy. No one could stop him from feasting on their bloated,
fattened bodies.
A more urgent instinct begged his attention. His master lay
in his arms helpless. He smelled and sensed her impending death. She needed
sanctuary. She had been wounded to the very limits of her miraculous healing
capacity and perhaps beyond. Holding Michelle securely in his arms, he fled to
seek a refuge against the coming daylight.
* * * *
Michelle’s basest survival instincts brought her awake to
the smell of blood. Her body’s primal need for precious life-giving blood to
regenerate and heal overwhelmed all other conscious thought. She sensed the
blood and flesh wrapped around her, and tore into it with ravenous hunger. The
flesh fought her. It was too strong, too powerful, denying her the blood that
she needed so badly. She instinctively knew she could force it into submission
with her words. In her overwhelming need, without cognizance of her actions,
Michelle commanded, “Be Still!”
She tore into the flesh and drank deeply from its jugular
vein.
* * * *
Michelle awoke in an abandoned building, her arms and legs intimately
wrapped around Aaron, who lie on his back beneath her. Her face was buried in
his neck. They were both covered in icky-sticky caked blood. She could not
recall any details beyond the gunshots fired in the hotel room. Her thirst was
intense, but she fought the urge to bite him. She was unsure of his condition.
Upon further inspection she saw his ragged clothing hung in tattered shreds. He
looked as though he’d been to Hell and back again, fought off a pack of wild
animals. Much the worse for it.
She was very sore. Her chest, ribs, shoulder, collar bone,
neck, back, and basically her whole upper body ached and throbbed in pain. Her
clothes looked like Aaron’s––shredded. She must’ve fought someone with a blade.
Her gunshot wounds were mostly healed. The scabs flaked loose to reveal the pinkish
marks of freshly-healed skin beneath the caked blood. And there were marks
revealing recent wounds of some other kind. She couldn’t recall having fought
with anyone besides the detectives, no one with a blade that would do this kind
of damage. A thought came to her then, but she dismissed it immediately.
Aaron would never attack her.
With the growing intensity of her hunger, her senses
magnified to encompass the surrounding area and streets outside. She smelled
the ripe bodily stench of unwashed vagrants. She arose and fed ungracefully
from the two squatters living in the upper levels of the abandoned building. They
were both dazed and stupefied from the raw force of her animalistic feeding. She
left them where they lay, still alive, and returned to Aaron.
The sun had dropped below the horizon an hour ago, and yet
he did not rise. She felt vulnerable out in the city. She was unsure of the
final outcome with the police last night. She scooped Aaron to her and carried
him home. It took an hour to reach her apartment as she moved steadily and
cautiously through the alleyways, taking great care to avoid being seen in
their blood-drenched, alarming appearance.
She toweled Aaron off then bathed herself and waited for him
to arise. By ten p.m., three hours after sunset, she became panic-stricken. She
decided to feed him her blood. She could think of nothing else to help him. She
cut her wrist and placed it to his mouth. He didn’t move, didn’t react like he
should have. She rubbed it around on his lips and nose, smearing it all over,
tempting him to feed.
At the point where she thought for sure something was
seriously wrong, he reacted, clamping his hands around her arm as he sunk his
fangs in deep. A violent chomp. His jaw locked down with painful force,
digging his canines in all the way to the bone. The wonderful side-effects of
his venom helped offset the pain of his violent response. As usual, his venom
packed a wallop, heating her erogenous zones and bringing her to a toe-curling
orgasm. She warmed to it, panting hard and fast as he brought her to a peak
and kept on going. When she had climaxed twice and began to feel lightheaded
from blood loss, she commanded him to STOP. It took her a moment to catch her
breath. Her head spun from the intense experience.
She lay atop his naked body on the bed looking into his
eyes, searching for a sign he was in there somewhere. He appeared cognizant.
He seemed aware of her as he held her gaze.
“Aaron can you understand me ... Talk to me please.” She
desperately needed to hear his voice.
He could barely speak in a hoarse, croaked reply. “Unghh … my
throat really hurts. You bit me hard last night. How are you? You were in
really bad shape. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it.”
“
Mon dieu
,
I was so worried. You were so still. I was afraid …”
She smiled a huge fang-filled grin and hugged him close,
kissing him full on the lips. “I am fine. Really. My dress is completely
ruined, and my shoulder still hurts, but the wounds are mostly healed.” She
smiled at him with embarrassment, rubbing her shoulder and moving her arm in a circular
motion.
“Aaron … what happened to the policemen?” She pulled her
blonde curls behind her ear and shifted her legs as she straddled him, sitting
up halfway.
“I’m not really sure. It’s kinda fuzzy, like a dream. It
might be easier to show you.”
Michelle accepted his invitation, delving into his mind as
he opened wide to their psychic bond and recalled all the events of the night
before. She relived, with him, the harrowing race through the streets to make
his way to the hotel. He was so damn powerful and he moved so fast it was
disorienting. She went along for the ride through his attack on the
detectives, reveling in their slaughter and the wondrous sensation of draining
every last drop of Konowicz’s blood.
She flew through the night with him as he raced across the
rooftops, her own body in his arms, seeking refuge. In the basement of the
abandoned building she tasted her own blood as he licked her wounds to help
cleanse and stop the bleeding. And then she lived through the most vicious
fight she’d ever been in. Aaron fought for his life against a crazed,
half-dead vampire driven insane with the need for blood.
He was winning the battle. He clawed, scraped and gouged at
the lunatic beast in his arms trying to get at his throat. Then she used her
power of compulsion to hold him still while she tore out his jugular vein and
satiated herself on his blood. She was there with him till the moment he
passed into unconsciousness from blood loss and the trauma of her unrestrained
assault. She felt how he sensed his own death was near, but was unable to save
himself for the power she held over him.
Michelle cried out. She collapsed onto his chest, tears of
blood streaming down her face. “
Ah,
la vache
!
Oh Aaron, please forgive me. I was not aware. I didn’t know what I was doing!”
She buried her face in his chest, unable to look him in the
eyes, and sobbed from the unwanted memories of all the horror and trauma she
put him through. He held her, stroked her hair and shushed her, offering
comfort for her misery.
“I would never hurt you like that on purpose.” She looked
up, pleading with her eyes for understanding.
But she could no longer deny the truth. She had tried to
kill him, and it wasn’t the first time. She had done it before when she’d
attacked him in the middle of their lovemaking. It was the luck of the draw
and his powerful vampire physique that allowed him to survive.
Despite all that she had done, he wasn’t angry, he forgave
her. She never had to ask forgiveness. It had already been given. He loved
her too much to stay angry.
It poured out without thought. She blurted it out, unable
to hold back the powerful well of emotion, “I love you Aaron. I need you. I
need you to love me. Say it … tell me how much you love me.” She clung to him
in desperation.
“I love you, Michelle, and I would give you my life if you
asked for it.” His mind still wide open, she knew the truth of his words. She
need not fight for his blood. He’d have given it to her willingly, if she asked.
She kissed him with a need so powerful and all-consuming it
was unbearable.
* * * *
Aaron kissed her back, holding her tightly as he rolled her
over, pinning her beneath him with an unbreakable grip. He stopped his frantic
kissing only long enough to sink his fangs into her neck with love and passion
as he entered her slowly, gradually filing her womb with his engorged cock.
Being in love was the biggest turn-on he’d ever known. Buried deep inside her,
he released his bite and looked her in the eyes, “Say it again!”
He pinned her arms above her head and trapped her beneath
him, her robe wide open exposing her breasts. With a shift of his weight he
slammed in deep to her core.
She gasped in surprise, a spark of fear in her eyes. He had
her trapped. She couldn’t move unless he allowed it. With tears of blood
welling in her eyes she cried, “Aaron, I beg you, please forgive me! I’m sorry
I hurt you!”
“No, you silly woman, tell me again that you love me! I want
to hear you say it over and over!”
He thrust into her moist heat faster and faster frantically
making love to her as she cried out repeatedly, “I love you! I love you!”
He pounded her relentlessly, going at it with a vigor that
shouldn’t exist in a man who had almost died several hours ago.
“
Je t’aime Aaron! Mon amour pour toi est éternel!
”
She drove him mad with her guttural cries of eternal love. They
tumbled and rolled over and over, off the bed, across the floor, up against the
wall, atop the dresser, smashing the vanity mirror. Like animals they grunted
and growled their way to an explosive peak.
“
Ahhh plus! plus! plus!
”
She cried out for more.
They orgasmed together, biting over and over, and eventually
collapsed onto the floor in a heap of twisted limbs.
She stroked him all over his arms and shoulders purring into
his ear. “I will always love you Aaron. I want you so much.
J'ai envie de toi
.
”
Her proclamation of eternal love filled him with
indescribable joy. Her mind was wide open to their bond, her love pouring over
him like a wondrous fountain of light. He had attained nirvana. His universe
aligned perfectly with the knowledge that their love was mutual.
A great weight lifted from his shoulders, a burden he hadn’t
realized was there. He felt invincible. The whole world was his for the
taking, as long as she remained at his side.
* * * *
Michelle meditated upon her new life with its confusion of
contradictory feelings. She hadn’t experienced such turmoil of emotion since
all those years ago in France. It seemed a lifetime ago. She felt terrified
by the uninhibited violence Aaron displayed at the hotel. And more than a
little intimidated by the phenomenal physical superiority he demonstrated in
those adrenaline-soaked adventures flying through the city at incredible
velocity. It had been like entering the mind and body of a wild animal on
rampage, but with the added boost of unnatural strength.