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Eloise looks to the floor, hiding from me and I step away from the chair giving her the space she needs but I loathe.
Control. I will master this craving for her, this strange weakness she creates. I’ve fed from countless humans and have bedded more than I can remember. Eloise can be nothing to me beyond our bargain. Even when I convince her to stay, I must keep her at a distance.
There’s too much at risk otherwise. The coin smoothed from age in my pocket is my reminder.
“Thank you,” she whispers and I turn back towards her, frowning.
“Do not thank me.” My words are harsher than I intend and she curls in on herself, suddenly so much smaller than the confident succubus of darkness from the beginning of dinner. I cross the distance between us and grip her chin, forcing her to meet my gaze. When she submits at last, I make a point of softening my hard voice. “You should never thank someone for the basic respect you deserve, ma belle lionne.”
Her gaze fills with pain. Who has hurt this beautiful woman? If she ever shares their names, I won’t send my soldiers to deal with them. I’ll do it myself and enjoy every moment of it.
“Come.” I tuck her hand into the crook of my elbow and guide her towards the closed door of the private dining room. “Ashe is waiting for us.”
She squares her shoulders, mastering herself before we walk through the now full restaurant. This time when I sense eyes on her, I glare at every man who would think to have her for their own. They flinch back, turning their focus back to their meals or dinner companions as they wait for me to pass or strike.
Eloise walks straighter as if she realizes there is no one giving her attention. She looks up at me as we reach the elevator bay beyond the entrance foyer and gifts me a sweet, small smile. I nod once and press the parking garage floor. It’s been less than forty-eight hours, but soon Eloise will learn that I will protect her from more than appreciative or perverse looks.
When the elevator doors open, Ashe is waiting for us behind the wheel. I open the door for her, waiting until she is seated before closing the door and slapping the roof of the car twice. Ashe begins to pull away as I step back and Eloise looks at me, confusion evident on her face.
She said no and I will respect that. My restraint is holding on by the thinnest of threads. Too much of her scent and those threads will break.
I ball my fists, relishing the sharp pain as my nails dig into my skin, grounding me as the car disappears from view. Forcing out a hard breath, I move in the opposite direction towards one of the parking garage’s many stairwells. When I enter it, I scowl, wishing I was back in the Barrows. At least those stairwells are filled with the smell of desperation and of lives disappearing into obscurity. Here in Topside, even the damn stairwells are clean.
There’s nothing to drown out the smell of Eloise lingering on my body, her taste on my lips.
Growling, I kick the ground floor door open, warping the metal door and breaking it off one of the hinges. A few human women scream at the sound, their male companions stepping between them and me, even across the street. I bark out a harsh laugh. If I wanted their women, I’d be across the street and on them before they realize I’ve moved.
I don’t want them though. There’s only one woman who my body is aching for.
Damn it all to hell and back. Anger and desire war in my veins, burning me from inside out as my blackened heart struggles to stay within the barrier of ice it’s trapped within.
I need a release. I need to fuck or kill.
I run until I’m near the edges of Topside, where the city is less pristine and affluent. Where buildings aren’t perfect examples of modernity. With a crouch and a powerful jump, I sail upwards and land on the gravel-covered rooftop of the two-story building. From there, I make my way over rooftops towards the Barrows. Towards my den of depravity where I can remind myself who the fuck I am.
The Barrows is closer than Topsiders like to think. Only a wide river separates Oldgate from Newgate, but it’s wide enough the Topsiders feel they can ignore us. Grim satisfaction fills me at the thought. I don’t want their holy piety in my city. It used to be that Topsiders would venture into my dark streets, believing they could save my people’s souls. One such woman came to me herself, convinced that she could turn my heart into something that cares. She wanted to save me.
I relished breaking her until she craved every wicked thing she once hated. She’d come to save me and, by the end, was my personal pleasure toy. She hated how much she loved it.
And then I cast her out, done with her.
Her final words damned me to Hell, cursing my very existence. I didn’t bother telling her that not even Hell wanted me. Why else was I still alive when I should have died? My soul was dammed long before my sire ever turned me.
Once I’m across the river, I turn east, away from Noir and towards my club Lush instead. Even this early, people will be there, wrapped in their dangerous vices. I take my time to get there, wrestling control over the tension within me. When I arrive, the need to lash out at every male has settled down into a hum of energy under my skin. I’ll need to release it eventually, but that’s why I’m here.
I stride through the metal door at the front, not bothering with my personal entrance. I want to be seen. I want to remind everyone and myself who rules this place.
The vampire at the front bows his head, taking a step back from the podium to let me pass through the second door into the massive room filled with the smell of sex, blood, and drugs. I pause in the entrance, sucking in a deep breath of the hedonistic perfume. Vampires look at me, feeling my power ripple through the room. Other supernaturals take a moment longer to sense my presence. Only the humans on Rapture finally find me, their eyes glazed over with hardly any sense.
They’re waiting to see what I’ll do, trying to guess why I’m here when I rarely visit.
I ignore them all and make my way through the sinuous path towards a throne-like seat half in shadow. The building was once a turn of the century theater that I’d visited more than once at its prime. Now the seating had been ripped from the floors, replaced by leather couches or chairs. Each seating area’s focus was not the stage as it once was. Instead, each area is its own play area.
St. Andrew’s crosses, cages, hanging hooks, and more fill this place. Spanking benches, padded tables, and devices that look straight out of medieval dungeons. As I predicted, nearly half are already in use. Most of the room is dark, the only illumination is soft spotlights on the equipment of each area, allowing the players to see and be seen. The stage’s thick velvet curtains are closed tonight, their stage lighting dark. I’ve never taken a partner there. I’m too damn possessive to let others view what is mine.
As I sink into my preferred chair, I reach for the riding crop kept in a quiver attached to the armrest. Running my fingers over the tight leather settles me into something more recognizable. Here, Eloise cannot control me. Here, no one defies me. Not even those who are dominant in nature.
My gaze lands on a familiar vampire currently taking a bull whip to a woman’s ass, sex, and thighs as she’s restrained by ankle spreaders. She’s bent in half at the waist, her wrists secured to the spreader. Lan pauses in his strikes, the blond man looking at me with a sick smirk. He raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head towards the woman in question. I shake my head, uninterested in playing with his toy of the night.
