The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) (7 page)

Found guilty and carted off to prison, Talco learned real
quick who his true friends were.  Evita was the only one who stuck with him
when the chips were down.  It was her money he spent on a shyster attorney who
did little if anything for his defense.  Evita was a keeper.  He married her
two days after his release from serving twelve months, a two year suspended
sentence hanging over his head.  She’d waited the entire year without
complaint.  She was there when no one else gave a damn.  She’d proven her worth
a hundred times over.

He owed it to Evita to keep a cool head.  He swallowed down
his pride and fury and tried reasoning with the detectives.  “Hey, take it easy! 
I’ll do what I can, but don’t expect miracles.  If my people know who she is,
then we got her.  I’m on it.”

“Damn straight you are, and you’re gonna pay the fuckin’ tab
too!”  Oberman motioned to the waitress, “Hey, can I get another round over
here?”  Oberman and Konowicz always drank their fill when someone else was
paying for it.

* * * *

CHAPTER 8

Awake in bed at sunset of the following evening, Michelle
lying next to him, Aaron knew he needed to contact his roommate Kyle very
soon.  Besides, if it was Michelle’s wish that he live with her, he needed to
get his stuff from Kyle’s place.

He couldn’t imagine sleeping anywhere but her bed after the
phenomenal sexual acrobatics of the night before––insanely erotic things he’d never
imagined in his wildest fantasies.  To top it all off, there was no fear of STD’s
or pregnancy.  Another one of those fringe benefits of being vampires.  Nothing
but purely awesome, condom-free sex and a whole lot of biting.

The downside?  He was now madly, irrevocably, undeniably,
hooked on Michelle.  It scared the crap out of him.  His limited experience
with serious relationships taught him one lesson very clearly.  Women can
destroy a man’s peace and turn the whole world on its head in a matter of seconds. 
Michelle was no exception.  If she ever got truly angry with him he’d be
royally fucked.

Despite this fear and uncertainty, he couldn’t ever recall
having felt this strongly for another person.  His relationship with Delia
couldn’t hold a candle to the intensity of emotional attachment he felt toward
Michelle.  His whole world revolved around Michelle.  He could actually sense
her thoughts, feelings and emotions, 24/7.  In a way he was Michelle, and she
him.  It was becoming difficult to tell where her feelings ended and his began.

He wasn’t sure how to bring it up without sounding like a
lovesick puke.  He decided to just go for it, put it out there and see what
happens.  He approached the subject of Kyle and his apartment cautiously.  “Should
I assume that I’m living here now,
permanently
?”

Michelle was engrossed in her iPhone, texting like mad.  “
Oui
.  Is necessary for the
moment.”  She paused, sent another flurry of text flying through the airwaves,
and continued, “I have a new job for you.  I sent your pictures to the escort
service and they like you.  There are several women scheduling appointments to
see you.”

She has pictures of me?  When were those taken?  OMG––I
hope I had clothes on
.  He opened his mouth to protest and thought better
of it.  It seemed prudent to say as little as possible when it came to
Michelle.  She already knew
way
too much about his thoughts and
feelings.

“You have a date tomorrow night with an older woman who
likes sexy, young boy toys.  Five hundred dollars an hour.  Is much better than
strip clubs.  The ladies, they pay you for the bite.  Is
parfait.
  Sex is not
necessary, but maybe later, when you have learned control.  One good bite with
a happy ending is enough to satisfy.  Is easy when they look you in the eyes,
you have dominance.  You lead with suggestion.”  Michelle dropped this
bombshell in his lap without ceasing her flurry of text activity or one moment
of eye contact.

“This we practice tonight.  Remember to be
very
careful not to cause the addiction.  Is very important!”  There it was again,
the veiled threat.  She didn’t quite say it, but he knew she was thinking it. 
Thinking about how she’d kill him if he proved uncontrollable.

“Is there a
problème
?” 
After seconds of stunned silence from him, she jumped up and pecked him on the
cheek with her most sincere look of innocence.  He was fast learning to regard
that look with suspicion.  It seemed her faux innocence became more convincing
when she was up to something, like roping him into a job as a male escort.

He snapped back at her sarcastically, “No. No big problem. 
But don’t you think you should ask before making plans on my behalf?  I do have
a job you know.  I had a life before I met you.”

She popped her head up to peg him with a stare that communicated
her irritation.  “This restaurant is no good for you.  You must
sever
ties with those you knew before.  You are very much changed now.  People are
not stupid.  They notice the difference.”  She spoke with an air of impatience
as though telling him something he should already know.

He scowled, his mind awhirl at the prospect of working as an
escort in the sex trade.  He knew escorts were rarely ever just an escort.  It
was nothing but a technically legal term for prostitution.  Escort rolled off
the tongue a little easier, but it still left a sour taste in his mouth.

She continued explaining that which he should have
understood by now. “Is better we live the nightlife alone.  No relations with
friends or family.  They are like
cattle
.  We feed from them, but
nothing more.  Is a dangerous game to play.  You will risk they learn the truth?” 
She surveyed him with the raised eyebrow of you-know-I’m right-and-you’re-wrong.

He shook his head in denial of her truth.

“
Le prix à payer est lourd
. 
The
price we pay for this life is obscurity.  They can never know our true natures.
 We would be hunted.  We take many pains to avoid this.  No relationships with
the food!  It cannot be.”

Her logic began to sink home.

He shook his head in resignation.  “I suppose you’re right. 
I should have seen this for myself.  I guess I didn’t think about it.  It’s
probably best to break these connections now.  I should go to my apartment, get
my things, and give my roommate some excuse.  Maybe I’ll give him a bit of the
truth.  I’m living with you now, and I work with an escort service as eye candy
for lonely, wealthy women.”  He was being sarcastic, but Michelle took him
seriously.

“
Oui,
is a good idea.  Tomorrow night.  Tonight is more
training
.  You still
have much to learn.”

And that was that, subject closed.

As they exited the apartment building, she laid her hand on
his chest to stop him.  “Wait for me here,
cher
.”

Ten minutes passed, and then ten more.  He stood in the wet
drizzle, on the sidewalk where she’d instructed him to wait.  He waited, and
waited some more.  At the point he was ready to head back up and find out what
the hell was keeping her, it happened.

“COME TO ME.”

It hit him with a massive adrenaline surge.  He needed to be
there now, now, now.  He darted into the alleyway, zinged past a stack of
pallets and leaped over the five foot high dumpster in his way.  In another
second, he’d leaped up in the air snatching the metal railing of the fire
escape.  Up and over, and he was running.  As his feet pounded out a rapid fire
staccato beat up the metal stairs, his mind filled with the urgent need to get
to Michelle on the roof.  Within seconds he reached the top level catwalk of
the fire escape, leaping to the edge of the roof, thirty feet above.  With a
desperate scrabble of hands and elbows he made it over the edge.  She was right
there, he could feel it.  His vision zoomed in on her as he ran balls out to
reach her.

He almost plowed right into her, barely skidding to a stop inches
away.  He felt an aggression he’d never known before, an urge to
attack/defend.  His enhanced senses ranged out over the roof top, seeking
sounds, smells, or telepathic signature of some nameless threat.  He felt
primed for battle, a truly powerful and exhilarating experience.

Michelle congratulated him with a quirky, lopsided grin, “Very
impressive!  It only took you forty seconds to reach me.  I’m very proud of
you.”  She squeezed his biceps and kissed him on the lips as if he was the
conquering hero welcomed home.

He huffed and panted heavily to catch his breath.  “What was
that all about?”  His nerves were stretched taut, a bowstring ready to snap.

“Is a test to see how quickly you respond to my call.  You
passed beautifully.  Is good exercise to learn coordination.  You are faster
and stronger than I am, you know?”

He had to admit she was right.  He’d moved pretty damn
fast.  It was fucking
awesome
.  He felt proud and powerful.  Both feelings
were quickly swamped by his rising irritation.  Michelle had that effect on him
regularly, an assault of mixed signals and emotions.

She touched him, holding his gaze without blinking while
sending a strong sense of calm and approval.  It hit like a tranquilizer,
draining his aggression and relaxing the tension.

Realization soured his belly.  This had been a convenient
demonstration.  She held the power to order him around, and then manipulate his
feelings about it after the fact.  He felt like the golden retriever living up
to its namesake, retrieving the stick for its master.  Michelle’s behavior
smacked of a prideful dog owner patting him on the head saying,
good boy
,
while he stood there wagging his tail, waiting to play fetch all over again. 
As much as it bothered him, he couldn’t shake that lingering sense of pride at
her words of praise.

They returned to the street level with the same high-flying
acrobatic maneuvers of the night before.  Michelle stepped off the side of the
building, and he followed right behind her, without even being asked.  The difference
now, as he followed Michelle downwards in the descending switch-back game, he
moved with confidence and grace.  He had begun to learn to coordinate his new
strength and speed, and he had to confess he felt physically invincible.  He
couldn’t really maintain a bitter attitude about Michelle’s little training
exercise.  The game had served its purpose.  He was flying high on his
exhibition of masculine power.  All other petty concerns became meaningless.

Rolling through the streets in a taxi, Michelle explained her
plans.  “We wait until one a.m., the clubs are now full.  People are drunk.” 
Her fingers slid over her his lap, teasing across the tip of his cock.

“We find the women dancing together.  Is too easy.  Feed
quick.  Thirty seconds, no more.  You must learn to count.  Is good exercise
for control.”  She snapped her fingers.  “Bite and move on to another girl.” 
Her tongue licked her lips in a flicker.  He sensed her excitement at having a
hunting partner.

Upon entering the club, Michelle weaved through the crowd to
the dance floor with Aaron in tow.  She maneuvered them to a group of girls
dancing together wedged into the center of the dance floor.  Michelle and Aaron
slipped into the middle of them swaying seductively to the music, maintaining constant
eye contact.

He began to notice something different.  These girls were
watching him, and they were
interested
.  Women didn’t look at him that
way.  Not unless they were so drunk they looked at everyone that way.  These
girls wanted him.  They moved in
closer
.  Before he knew it,
two
girls sandwiched him and began grinding front to back.  He’d never been singled
out by two women for such intimate attentions.  It was an incredible sensation
to command the affections of several beautiful women.

He could get used to this real fast.  Being the focus of so
much attention was intoxicating.  He felt like a rock star partying with his
entourage in the VIP section.  He looked over at his fellow
rock-star-vampire-master.  She was getting down to business.

While the ladies got funky, grinding all up on him, he gawked
at Michelle in morbid fascination.  She had already bit into one girl for a few
seconds, and immediately turned towards another girl behind her for a second
bite, making short work of anyone within reach.  Nobody seemed to notice what
he saw.  They were being tapped one right after the other, all totally
oblivious.  She was an illusionist of the highest order, sleight of hand and
fang.  The cattle were blinded by her splendor.

The girl in front of Aaron leaned back into him with her
backside, offering the juicy target of her neck and shoulder.  She looked up
with a seductive smile, giving him the eye contact he needed.  Her petite, golden-brown
Latina curves begged to be bitten.  She licked her lips suggestively, an
invitation he could hardly refuse.  He struck hard and fast, letting the
feeding instinct take over as he sunk into her exposed neck swallowing down her
red, delicious life.  The girl reached up to run her fingers through his hair,
cupping his cheek in her palm. 

“Mas, mas, don’t stop!”  She fisted her hand in his hair
with her explosive orgasm.

He didn’t want to let go.  Every instinct in his body said
to hold on, suck until there was nothing left to take.  He dug down deep to
find the strength of will to release her after what seemed like thirty
seconds.  He pulled back leaving her hot and bothered, unsatisfied.  Reading her
mind was a lesson in desire.  She wanted more.  She wanted him to do it again. 
She didn’t have a clue what he’d done, but she wanted him to keep doing it. 
The girl smiled up at him with a drugged, dazed look, a light sheen of
perspiration on her forehead, her dark iris faded to solid black from
dilation.  He had made a new friend.

Michelle flashed her eyes at him, sending a psychic kick
through their mutual bond, silently urging him to move on.  He turned away from
the Latina to face a tall, willowy blonde who matched him in height.  In
seconds his unwavering eye contact gave him the control he needed.  When he
beckoned, she came.  She moved right up on him, aligning her slim curves with
his body as they both swayed to the music.  She wore a short blue dress and
easily straddled his thigh, spreading her legs to place her most intimate flesh
on his leg, her hips grinding in time with the music.  The Latina behind refused
to be dismissed so easily.  Latina began working to regain his attention.  She
molded herself to his backside with her arms flowing around him, slipping her
fingertips into the front waistband of his pants.

He bit down straight into the pulse of the blonde grinding her
moist sex on his leg.  He tried his best to focus on only one girl at a time,
even though they both struggled to gain his attention.  Within seconds the
blonde took his hand in hers, pulling his fingers down, inviting him to touch
where she needed him most.  Her dress had hiked up exposing her inner thighs to
his caress.  While he drank deeply, she used his hand to massage her swollen
wet cunt, leaking her wetness onto his fingers.