Staring at my reflection as the elevator doors pulled to a close, I saw the smirk appear on my lips before I ever felt it form, hearing the first notes begin to play through the speakers.
‘Whatever Lola wants…Lola gets…’
The rising elevator came to a halt with a ding, as did my mental sing-a-long.
And be it from the unwanted delay, the pausing of the Sarah Vaughan song with the opening of the doors, or the thought perhaps my internal sing-a-long had been external, my glare at the unintentional intruder was enough for him to hold up his hands in surrender, meekly offering, “I’ll uh…I’ll just get the next one.”
Humans had such a keen sense of survival, even on a subconscious level. If only the three vampires on my agenda for the night had retained at least that part of their humanity, they might have lived to see another night.
Sadly, it wasn’t an uncommon trait.
Which was why I was tasked by The Council to enforce the rules.
‘No regrets (no regrets)…Recline yourself…Resign yourself…’
The ding announcing my arrival at my intended floor cutoff the rest of the song from playing to its end in the elevator, but I didn’t need to hear it to know the rest of the words.
The lyrics couldn’t have rung any truer and I found myself singing them softly as I made my way down the hall towards the room they’d just checked into for the night.
I always get what I aim for.
And your heart and soul
Is what I came for.’
Coming to a stop at their door, while I could have broken it down, I didn’t want the hassle of glamouring an entire floor of humans.
Curiosity had killed more than just the cat.
So I rapped softly on the door, while pressing my thumb over the peephole, and waited.
“Who is it?” one of them yelled.
I didn’t know which, but I didn’t care.
Announcing myself as ‘Housekeeping’ or ‘Room service’ briefly flitted through my mind, but for some reason these three brought out the worst in me.
Which is why I found myself saying, “Candy-gram.”
Thankfully, they wouldn’t live long enough to tell anyone.
“What?” a second voice angrily called out, just as he pulled open the door.
Seeing me, he immediately began to back away, which allowed me to enter the room and with my smirk still firmly in place, I replied, “Land shark.”
If he recognized the classic Saturday Night Live skit, he didn’t show any sign of it. But finally showing some sense of survival, the leader of the nest – Malcolm – immediately launched into his pitiful plea of, “I swear! We’ll have the money by the end of the week!”
“The end of the week?” I asked, with all of the empathy I was capable of.
While the three of them continued to stare at me as though I was an apparition, they unconsciously began backing further into their hotel room as I slowly strode towards them. The fact they hadn’t at least thought to glamour their way into a human’s home to protect themselves – somewhat – from me was yet more proof they didn’t deserve to live for an eternity.
The fact they’d chosen to hole up in a five star hotel for the night, when they were already in arrears for their very lives was yet another tick in the Idiots column.
But now that we were secured away from curious human eyes, I spoke freely by saying, “You’ve already missed two deadlines and are in violation of the terms of the contract.”
Then shaking my head in faked dismay, I lowered my eyes in the hopes they would see it as a chance to strike first.
Killing a simpering idiot – or even three of them – wasn’t as much fun as fighting to the death.
And after a thousand years, I had learned quickly I had to find entertainment anywhere I could.
“We…we have ninety-eight thousand dollars,” the woman of the trio – Diane – offered, opening her couture bag and dumping the contents onto the bed. Then pushing it towards me – the equivalent of shoveling shit against the tide at that point – she said, “Here! You can have it all! We just need a few more nights to get the rest.”
“Ninety-eight thousand dollars?” I questioned and laughed without any humor, “That’s not even half of what one of you owes. You each signed a contract. You’ve each had ten years to come up with the money. Twenty-five thousand dollars a year isn’t an unreasonable amount for the gift of eternal life.”
Granted, the price went up exponentially after the first century, but the payments themselves became spread out even further, due every hundred years instead of each decade. And, like me, once you reached a millennium, your debt was considered paid in full.
Probably because it was a rare milestone to reach.
But with the first hundred years under your belt, making money wasn’t as cumbersome as it once was. Less than half of those turned ever made it that far, be it from nonpayment during their first century –as was the case with these three – or from any other number of misfortunate circumstances.
It was why the cost to be turned at all was excessive.
Not only did it keep our numbers down to a manageable level, but any vampire found to have made a child without paying the turning fee to the council was put to immediate death.
It was a great deterrent.
Our race was still firmly entrenched in folklore and teenage sparkled fantasies, but there were a few humans who found out the truth of our existence in one way or another and sought out eternal life for themselves through The Council.
Once they were thoroughly vetted, and if they had what was now the ten million dollar turning fee, they were matched with vampires willing to be a Maker.
A vHarmony, as it were.
Then there were those who were turned merely because their Maker wanted them for their child. They were still vetted – behind the scenes – but they were still required to sign the contract once they’d risen.
Being turned without your consent didn’t negate the need to pay for services rendered.
For most, the fee owed at the end of each decade of their first century was paid by their Maker, but they weren’t required to do so by The Council. If they chose, they could decline and the debt would then fall to their Child.
As was the case with these three.
If I hadn’t already known who the vampire was these three called Maker, I couldn’t have even begun to imagine how they’d convinced anyone they were worth the time, blood, and money.
But humans weren’t the only ones with Beverly Hillbillies among them.
Bubba should’ve been put down a long time ago, but he was Elvis.
He could damn well afford the contractual stipends to remain walking amongst the undead.
But he’d been fed up with their antics as well and, after being given the opportunity to pay the two hundred and fifty thousand each of them owed to remain undead for another decade, he’d formally refused.
So I got back on topic and said, “I might have been willing to wait the few more nights you’re begging for had I not been tracking you for the last three nights.”
They’d been on a mini killing spree, starting in New Orleans and working their way north as far as Shreveport. The deaths themselves weren’t the real issue.
It was their carelessness in the aftermath.
Something their widened eyes told me they understood, while I chided, “Had I not been there to see that your messes were cleaned up, we could have been exposed.”
It was the number one rule of our kind.
Do nothing to draw attention to our race.
Luckily I’d been able to thwart any unwanted interest a dozen mauled and exsanguinated bodies would incur by calling our cleaner.
She really was the quicker-picker-upper.
And already feeling the tingle in my pants at the thought of calling her again so soon, I calmly took off my suit jacket and laid it across a chair before taking the time to carefully roll my shirt sleeves up to my elbows, all the while waiting for one of them to attack.
When none of them made a move towards me, I could only guess they either truly were pitiful or they believed we were about to embark on an all-night business negotiation.
But I had better things to do, so I stood tall facing them and said, “For failing to live up to your contractual obligations, by order of The Council, I hereby declare your lives forfeit and reclaim our blood.”
Their deaths were swift.
The room was a bloody mess.
I’d made sure of it.
Just as I’d made sure I was pristine by the end of it.
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I was back to humming the Sarah Vaughan tune into my phone, with a small smile on my face at the thought of speaking to her again, when my call was answered with, “Cenerentola’s. Pick up or delivery?”
Using the original Italian name of the classic folktale Cinderella was a clever disguise, as was their standard greeting, implying pizzas were their business.
I often wondered what would happen if I ordered a large pepperoni, but with my appetite for death sated – but not my appetite for blood and sex – I didn’t waste the time and replied in code, using the German version of the same name.
“I was looking for Aschenputtel.”
A moment later the call was picked up, with a cheerful, “This is Gus.”
Her pseudonym was ridiculous, but her work was exceptional. I suspected she was a Supe of some sort – she hadn’t acted as though cleaning up the bloody aftermath of any killing spree; human or vampire, bothered her – but I had no clue as to what kind. She worked exclusively for The Council and her anonymity was absolute.
Gus was nearly as folklore as we were.
And – by order of The Council – she was untouchable.
But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t touch her, if given the opportunity.
Something about her bright spirit, in spite of the reasons why I was forced to call her to begin with, pulled at something within me. The more we talked, the more I wanted to get to know the real her. I’d even hung around a few times after calling for her services, but she never showed while I was there, as if she could somehow tell.
I could only assume she wasn’t vampire when I’d been forced to retreat by the coming dawn and the work had been completed during the daylight hours.
Still, hearing her voice again, I couldn’t help the small smile on my lips coming through in my voice when I replied, “This is your Prince Charming.”
“The line forms to the left,” she softly chuckled. “But you’re more like my Daddy Warbucks lately. This is the fourth time you’ve called in as many days.”
“I’d be more than happy to play ‘Who’s your daddy’ with you,” I smiled widely.
I had no idea what she looked like. I didn’t even know her real name, but her voice alone was enough to make me hard.
And if the rest of her wasn’t, I could always fuck her from behind, while she talked dirty.
“That line is longer,” she snickered. “So, since I doubt you’re calling just to make my panties wet, I take it you’re in need of another kind of cleanup? In aisle six, perhaps?”
Looking around at the mess I’d made, I nodded – even though she couldn’t see it – adding, “And aisles seven and eight.”
“My, my…it sounds like you’ve been a busy boy.”
“And now I’ve made you a busy girl.”
“And yet we still haven’t gotten busy with one another,” she laughed. But before I could suggest righting that wrong, she got back to business by asking, “Location?”
Giving her the name of the hotel and room number, there wasn’t much left for me to say.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t have anything left to say.
“Should I get us our own room? The only mess to clean up will be the bed sheets once I’m through with you, but the staff can see to that.”
I didn’t really know when our business transactions had become filled with innuendo and lewd suggestions, but I’d been dealing with her exclusively for the past five years or so, so it had been going on for a while now.
Me teasing her and her teasing my cock with her words alone.
Which was the likely reason why she didn’t hesitate to reply in a teasing voice, “I’m disappointed that you think we would even need a bed to make a mess.”
“Then meet me in the middle of Times Square and we can give the Naked Cowboy a run for his money.”
I’d do it in a heartbeat.
A heartbeat I no longer had, but that was just semantics.
“Tighty whitey’s just don’t do it for me,” she laughed. “But if you’re willing to wear the hat, I could be convinced to ride you reverse cowgirl.”
My fangs snapped down, cutting into my lip, but the sound must have reached her ears because she gasped in a breath – in fear or in lust, I had no clue – but only said, “If you have no further instructions, then I’ll see to the cleanup. Good night, Prince Charming.”
And then she hung up.
Resisting the urge to crush the phone in my hand, I shoved it back into my pocket and looked at the bloody piles that used to be vampires, regretting I killed them so quickly now that I needed something to kill.
Until her, not once in a thousand years would I have ever imagined homicidally lusting after someone named Gus.
Never say never…
Forcing myself to calm down, I quickly washed the blood from my hands and face before giving myself the once over to make sure no other signs of my night’s activity remained on me. Then retrieving my jacket from the chair, I pulled it on, but only when I reached into the pocket did I remember the little trinket I’d brought along for her.
A simple necklace – platinum because even I wasn’t S&M enough to get her a silver one – adorned with a single dainty charm.
A tiny mouse, in deference to her pseudonym, Gus.
I don’t know what possessed me to buy it.
Not just buy it because I happened across it, but sought it out.
Shaking my head and knowing she would go over the room with a fine tooth comb, I tossed it on the desk before leaving the room.
What she would make of it was anyone’s guess.
But if she came to some sort of conclusion, then perhaps she would be willing to share it with me, so I would know what in the fuck I’d been thinking.
On the bright side, at least by choosing a five star hotel for their final death, there was a decent club on the ground level, which was where I headed.
I needed to feed and fuck.
And as the saying went, ‘If you can’t feed and fuck the one you want, feed and fuck the one you’re with.’
Walking into the club, I let my eyes roam over the possibilities, not quite sure what I was in the mood for.
Some spicy Mexican perhaps?
Or maybe something Asian?
There were plenty to choose from. Unfortunately my craving was very specific in that moment, but knowing that wasn’t an option, I avoided the human bar and made my way to the vampire one.
The dance floor.
Being a Friday night made it relatively crowded. The club music playing meant while there were many people dancing, they weren’t necessarily dancing with anyone in particular.
It was like shooting fish in a barrel, really.
Spotting a trio in the middle of the dance floor, jokes starting off with, ‘A blond, a redhead, and a brunette walk into a bar…’ flitted through my head, but I didn’t bother finishing any of them.
Because the joke was really on me, knowing I would need the three of them to finish me off, in order to get a faceless rat named Gus out of my system.
They put up no resistance when I slid myself into the middle of their fold, with all of them looking like they’d won the lottery. Two songs in and they were each fighting for my undivided attention.
Unfortunately, the scents of their individual perfumes, the cheap liquor they’d consumed, and the MDMA they’d taken were all fighting together too.
But I didn’t need to breathe.
So I only looked like I was and was about to draw them out of the club, but my Pied Piper routine was put on pause, seeing someone else coming onto the dance floor.
Straw blond hair, similar to my own shade, with highlights that didn’t come from any chemical process hung down in waves to the middle of her bare back.
Silk hugged her voluptuous curves, with the back of the dress cut low enough for me to see the dimples on her lower back, just above her ass and the white color set off her golden tan.
I didn’t even need to see her face.
I could fuck her all night long just looking at her back.
Disentangling myself from the Trinity of Tanqueray and Tonic, I put myself right behind her, appreciating the way her sky-high heels made her legs look.
And the way it made her the perfect height to push her against a wall and take her from behind.
Her body moved to the beat like the music had been written just for her and while she had to have sensed my presence at her back – propriety had never been my strong suit – she made no move to put any distance between us.
And when I finally dared to put my hands on her hips, she went with it, pushing her ass against my crotch.
Daring to hope she wouldn’t smell like an ashtray washed with MD 20/20 and then used to serve day old sushi, I leaned in closer – a feat in itself – and buried my face against the back of her neck, pulling in a deep drag of air through my nose.
Sex and candy.
It was the only description that was fitting.
It was the only explanation for why, after a thousand years of learning to control my urges, my fangs snapped down unbidden for the second time that night, with the taste of my own blood on my lip.
Above the bass of the music blaring through the speakers, I could still hear her heartbeat pick up in pace.
That human survival instinct kicking in.
Goosebumps rose up on her flesh as I forced my fangs back into my gums, but instead of pulling away, she pushed herself further into my hold before turning around in my arms and pulling my lips down to hers.
I would like to say that she’d moved faster than I’d been prepared for, but the truth was I was still seeing stars from her scent alone.
But every other thought was pushed aside when she pushed her tongue into my mouth and I could feel my blood now working its way into her system.
I should have been angry.
I should have dragged her out of the hotel and killed her for forming a blood tie I hadn’t consented to.
A blood tie she would have known nothing about, but ignorance of the law wasn’t a valid defense.
Even in human courts.
But instead I found myself taking over the kiss, letting her milk the blood from my lip like a newborn Tasmanian devil.
She was vicious in her attack disguised as seduction.
It only made me want her more.
Later, I told myself.
I could always kill her later.
But it was only when she finally pulled away to breathe that I got a good look at her for the first time.
And I wasn’t disappointed.
However I soon found out what it was like to win the lottery when my eyes trailed further down her front and saw the tiny platinum mouse charm dangling just above the valley in between her breasts.
When my eyes darted back up to hers in surprise, the smirk she wore was familiar.
After all, I’d seen it just an hour earlier in the reflective elevator doors.
But she didn’t say anything. Didn’t acknowledge who she was. Who I was. Her job, my job, or the necklace. She merely held onto my hand and pulled me out of the club, back to elevator doors in the hotel lobby.
Pushing the button to call the elevator, she kept her eyes facing forward, with her hips softly swaying side to side, humming a familiar tune.
‘Whatever Lola wants…Lola gets…’
I barely had the time to wonder how in the hell she knew about that – if she even knew about that – when the door slid open and she stepped inside. While she’d dropped my hand from hers, it had made no difference because the invisible tether between us dragged me inside with her.
Not that I was kicking and screaming about it.
I hadn’t even noticed there was someone else waiting for the elevator with us, until I saw her stare pointedly through the open doors and looked over to see a man staring apprehensively at the two of us.
She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to.
Her look said it all.
So he remained standing there in the lobby, watching as the doors slid shut on the elevator that wouldn’t be taking him anywhere, and she reached out pressing the button to the floor I’d already visited once that night, before launching herself at me.
Catching her at the waist, I had her back up against the wall almost in the same moment, with her legs wrapping around my body to pull me in even closer. Her hands wound themselves around my hair, holding my head in place as she ran her tongue along my lower lip. A part of me wondered if she was cleaning up any remaining blood on my face and I smirked to myself, thinking she was nothing if not meticulous at her job as The Council’s Cleaner.
The doors opened with a ding, but with her body wrapped around mine – and with each of us unwilling to let the other go – she was forced to steer me in the direction she wanted to move using only her hands, with my hair as her reins.
So maybe she was the true Pied Piper because it worked.
With her back pressed against the hotel room door where we’d each had other business to attend to that night, she pulled a key card seemingly out of thin air. A snick of a different kind could be heard and then we were falling into the room.
The room I’d only left less than an hour earlier and yet it was pristine.
And if I had the mental fortitude to question it later on, I would ask her how she’d managed to do it so quickly.
For now though, I had other questions I wanted answers to.
First and foremost, I wanted to know if her sex tasted like candy too.
I hadn’t breathed so much since before I’d been turned and her scent had me so turned on, I didn’t waste any time. Peeling her off of me with all of the ease of wet skinny jeans, I turned her body to face the wall and held her there with a single hand on the middle of her back.
Using her hands to brace herself, she pushed her ass against my free hand trailing over the curve of it, but I couldn’t be sure whose growl was louder when my fingers dipped under her skirt and in between her legs, feeling how wet she already was.
“You lied to me,” I accused in a low voice, running my fingers through her folds, while avoiding the spots that would give her any kind of relief.
Then pressing my front against her back, I leaned down to put my lips at her ear and said, “You’re not wearing any panties.”
“I told you they were wet,” she argued back, shifting her hips every which way she could in an attempt to get my fingers where she wanted them.
Hearing her voice for the first time in person – the voice I’d been literally and figuratively jerking off to for the last several years – was nearly enough to make me cum.
A Pavlovian response, if there ever was one.
But not allowing her any respite with her wiggling hips, she growled out, “What can I say? I’m conditioned to clean up any mess.”
“You work too hard,” I smiled against her neck, impressed with myself for finding I did have some empathy in me when the situation actually called for it, and trailed a wet path with my tongue from just under her ear straight down her spine.
Finally giving her what she’d been seeking by sinking two fingers inside of her, her back arched while she mewled and I sank down onto my knees, flipping her skirt up over her ass and lightly biting the flesh with my blunt teeth, saying, “Just relax and let me take care of this mess for you.”
“You really are my Prince Charming,” she gasped, just as I forced my head in between her spread legs and my tongue found Valhalla at the apex of her thighs.
Her sex was impossibly sweet.
Like the finest Mead made with the purest honey had been fucked by a unicorn and her cum was the end result.
Growling like a rabid grizzly bear against her lips, she only forced her body down against my own even harder, chanting out, “Jesus, fuck!”
Jesus could get in that line to the left she’d spoken of earlier.
I would be the only one fucking her tonight.
From what I’d heard, he was used to making sacrifices for others anyway.
My fingers never stopped moving in and out of her body, while my tongue lapped up everything my actions caused to come out of her. But with our perhaps intentional blood tie – she should have known what taking my blood would do, not that I could kill her for it now even if I’d wanted to, since she was protected by The Council – I could feel her orgasm approaching as if it were my own.
So I used my insider knowledge to her benefit, with her benefitting from me finding the g-spot inside of her, while my mouth focused on her clit.
Her entire body began vibrating, with another flood of wetness seeping out of her, but she kept only one hand on the wall to brace herself, using the other to push my head towards her femoral artery, demanding, “Bite!”
I didn’t need to be told twice.
If her cum could be likened to Mead mixed with unicorn cum, then her orgasm-laced blood could only be described as floating in the middle of still waters with your eyes closed underneath a summer sun.
Early morning dew drops dripping off of spring blossoms at the verge of opening their petals.
Finding pictures in clouds.
Whispered secrets in the innocence of youth.
All things good – things I hadn’t thought of in over a thousand years – flickered through my mind as her blood spread across my tongue and seeped down my throat, ensuring I would be ruined for all others forever.
I couldn’t even be mad at her for it.
I could only hope our encounter wouldn’t be a one-time thing.
And knowing I needed to stop feeding before it ended up a one-time thing – and I ended up with a new child – I closed the wounds on her thigh and reached up, grabbing ahold of her waist, and lifted her with me as I stood up.
Laying her on the bed, she smiled dreamily, with a single raised brow aimed my way, as she began pushing the suit jacket from my shoulders. Letting it fall to the wayside, I toed off my shoes and went to work on unbuttoning my shirt, while she worked my pants open and when my cock sprang out, her eyes widened and she licked her lips, repeating, “Jesus, fuck…”
“I never would have guessed you to be so religious,” I smirked, pulling my shirt off and then pulling the dress free from her body.
“I never would have thought I would have more than one religious experience in a single night, but I’m hoping to be proven wrong,” she smirked in return.
My quip about having her calling out to her God in no time was lost the moment she sat up, because in the next moment, she was massaging the tip of my cock with her tonsils and I heard myself roar out, “Jesus, fuck!”
Her eyes stayed locked onto mine and while that was a definite turn-on, it was more her hum in the affirmative, along with her slight nod, that had me chanting to gods long dead in a just as dead language.
If pressed, I would blame our years’ long foreplay for why I was cumming down her throat sooner than I’d intended to.
But I could thank being a vampire for not letting that stop me from turning her around on her hands and knees and slamming into her.
I’d known from fucking her with my fingers that it would be tight fit, but my eyes crossed at just how tight she actually was and I forced myself to remain still to give her time to adjust to my size.
Time she had no patience for because she rocked forward before slamming back and bottoming out against my hips, snarling, “I’ve waited long enough for you to fuck me. Don’t make me wait any more.”
Again, I didn’t need to be told twice.
I took great pleasure in knowing I hadn’t been the only one – and I would be sure to ask why she had waited so long – but for right now, there was only our mutual pleasure that I wanted to focus on.
Having no choice but to brace her hands on the headboard or get a concussion left me unfettered access to every part of her.
Using her hip as my handhold, my free hand roamed freely across her back.
Up her side and across her front, palming her breast and lightly pulling on her nipple, making her whimper and moan, before moving along to her other one and repeating my actions.
Her every heartbeat pulsed along the length of my cock and her walls gripped me tighter, warning me her climax was approaching. But wanting to see it for myself, I pulled out of her and had her flipped over with me back inside of her before she could even protest.
Her pupils were blown wide and her lips were swollen from sucking the cum out of me. Her skin was flushed from head to toe and covered in a light sheen that only made her smell sweeter.
Pulling her right leg up changed the angle, so that I was hitting her sweet spot with every thrust, and her back arched her body upwards, all but taunting my mouth with how close her breasts were to my lips.
I showed them I didn’t like to be taunted.
Attacking them with my lips and tongue made her cry out again, holding my head in place with one hand in my hair, while the other raked down my back and latched onto my ass.
Gripping the flesh in her hand, she used what leverage she could find to meet my thrusts with her own, chanting, “Yes…yes… yes…oh god…I’m…”
Whatever word she’d ended up saying was lost on me in the wake of my own roar with my release.
I would try to pay more attention to what she said next time.
Because there would be a next time if I had anything to say about it.
For now though, I couldn’t form many words, with my brain having been reduced to mush.
Mead/unicorn cum mush.
Falling to her side so I wouldn’t crush her, she immediately turned her body to wrap around my side. Normally I wasn’t one for cuddling, but I felt differently with her.
“What is your real name?” I heard myself ask. “Because you don’t look like any Gus I’ve ever met.”
“What’s wrong with Gus?” she asked with a small laugh. Then holding up her mouse charm by the chain and letting it dangle from her fingertips, she added, “He’s a cute little fella.”
“You’re not the first vampire I’ve heard use that word,” she chuckled again.
“So you’re not going to tell me?” I asked, trying to decide whether or not I should glamour the information from her.
But staring back at her, there was something there, just underneath the surface that told me I shouldn’t.
I would rather she choose to tell me on her own anyway.
“How about,” she began, pushing herself up onto her hands and leaning down to kiss the tip of my nose.
My eyes closed at the unexpected gesture, with it somehow feeling more intimate than everything else we’d done in that room.
I had to force away the thought that a simple kiss like that could easily surpass every other on my list of ‘all things good’ and forced my eyes to open, as she finished with, “For now, you just call me Lola.”
“Seriously?” I asked, with my raised brow calling bullshit for me.
“As a heart attack,” she smiled.
Then patting my chest, she sat up and grabbed her discarded dress, before turning to me and saying, “Thankfully, you’re not susceptible to those anymore. So, until next time, my Prince Charming…”
Then, with a wink.
And a blink.
She was gone.