Page 3 of The Vampire’s Prey

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Adrian

I am ravenous. This evening has already started off hectic. Add that to the other weeks where I’ve been swamped plus add in the complete lack of compatible prey, and you have a mix for an irritated, horny, hungry vampire. Maybe tonight will be different. Most of the women coming around seemed more concerned with the flavor of their drink than the issues of today.

Normally that is okay; however, I am a man who craves a well-formed mind as well as a well-formed ass. And lately, it’s been only the latter. It seems like most men can separate the two; however, I can only go so long before I break down and crave an actual intellectual connection. It also doesn’t help that many women get the wrong idea about me and my…. proclivities. Truth be told, most nights, I don’t even try. I either get what I need from a willing woman or get it on tap. Thank Fates for blood on tap.

The air is thick with the smell of excited humans. Cattle, one and all. I’ve never liked the press of people or thronging crowds, even when I was mortal. Some things never change. I tip my nose in the air, scenting it as much as I dare. So many smells assault me, but not the one I’m looking for.

Desperation has its own unique scent to me, and I’m repulsed by it. That’s what I usually smell when I come to Club Toxic. Desperation and lust. Sometimes, there’s a waft of curiosity, and that’s usually what piques my interest. Not tonight though.

Nodding at tonight’s bouncer, I make my way inside and immediately head to one of the back booths. Since no one here is piquing my interest yet, I sit down and pull out some work from my side job.

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you keep concentrating like that.”

Barbara. Her scent wafts over to me even before she speaks. Hers isn’t as repulsive as the others, but it doesn’t draw me in either. Trying to make nice, I smile up at her and slide my phone to the edge of the table where she can see it. Now, it’s her turn. Almost instantly, small wrinkles line her forehead. It would be cute if I had any feelings towards her, but unfortunately, she’s just one more human. Nothing special.

“Well? Am I forgiven for my concentration?”

She slides the phone back towards me before tucking an errant brown curl behind her ear. “That’s what you sit here and stare at all night? Dude, you’re in a bar! Get a drink or a chick. Hell, what I am saying is freaking get laid!” She bats her eyelashes and leans in closer, her tight nipples brushing against my arm. “What do you say professor, you could have me. And, you don’t even have to buy me a drink first. I can make my own.”

That’s when I smell it. That hint of desperation. It rolls off her in waves. Her light green eyes look so sad as they stare at me. It would be all too easy to give in and give her what she wants. But I can’t. She works here. Not only that, it would be empty on both sides. A small patter of sympathy beats in my cold, dead heart. I could thrall her to make her not interested. But that wouldn’t exactly be fair to her.

Reaching out, I take her hand and pull her wrist close to my lips. Her pulse quivers just below the skin, and it tempts me. Dear Fates, it tempts me. But I have nothing to give her. And in the end, she has nothing to give me. Sighing, I give her a chaste peck on the inside of her wrist, my lips linger for just a scant moment to feel the pulse of life against my mouth.

“No, my dear. I cannot. Besides, I wouldn’t dream of depriving all these customers of your ample charms.” I wink and let her hand go.

“You flirt.”

Her blush is adorable, as is how she drops her head. My gut tells me that she would make an amazing submissive...for someone else.

“That I am. And also, why I will not take advantage of you. Besides,” I gesture to a man over by the bar who looks decent enough and mortal—that is the key—“That man over there hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you’ve started serving.”

Her fingers rake through her hair and her posture straightens. “Well, if you won’t have me, I’ll see if he will.” She winks and walks away, leaving me in relative peace. No real damage is done from what I can tell, and what damage is there will probably be banged out by that chap at the bar. I can’t help but chuckle as I look at my phone and continue working on the translation in front of me.

Patrons keep coming and going, and yet, nothing is even remotely stirring my interest. Several vampires have already taken their conquests down for some play and dinner. Yet, here I sit, work done, and 4 glasses drained. Frustration fills me. So many other vampires seem to find luck at this club, yet here I am, about to go back down to the dungeon for what’s on tap.

The blood is sustaining, but it has no soul, no life, no conversation. I get up from my seat, determination putting a purpose in my step. I am either going to hunt or make use of one of the sweetbloods. Not one more night of frustration is going to go by.

The music throbs, pulses, entices. I let my body move within the entrancing sway and ebb. Several women catch my eye, but after just one song, I’m ready to go to the next one. Tonight is a bust. Not one person is catching my interest. Or, maybe I just make my standards impossibly high. Grumbling, I make my way over to the coat check.

“Not even going to try tonight?”

“Shove it, Tiberius.” His laughter grates across my spine.

“Come on now. What about that hot little number over there?”

I follow his gaze to a blonde gyrating on the floor. “I saw her. So did every other man here. Pretty sure she’s already going to be someone’s dinner.”

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself. What about her?”

He points to another girl I already spoke with earlier.

“Not my type.”

“Not your type? She’s everyone’s type! Well, not mine. But we know that. What exactly are you looking for? Maybe I can be a wingman?”

Snorting, I close my eyes for a moment. “Well, I do love the blonde’s body. But pair that with someone who can actually hold a conversation? That’s perfection.”