Chapter 1: Business as Usual
Another muggy July night, it has been unseasonably warm this summer. The heat has been sending my utilities costs through the roof at my apartment and the office. I don't think I'd be able to live in Chicago if I wasn't head of my own company. Not that I'm hurting for cash, quite the contrary, but being able to flash my resources is something I don't take advantage of. Attention I avoid like the plague.
Except for tonight, tonight I let my inhibitions and usual defenses down with the express purpose of attracting attention. I have found my way to one of my favorite nightspots. It is as private as a public club can be, dark and loud. The owner and I are friendly so I always get in immediately to my usual table.
It's amateur night; the stage is open to any who think they have talent. I've seen the good, the bad, and the ghastly. But my eyes and ears are always open for someone special and, so far, tonight's options are not too promising. Two mediocre comedians and four sub-par singers, I've been sitting here for nearly two hours and I haven't seen anything that kept my attention. Though I know a lot of attention has been paid to the twenty two year old blond in the expensive suite that has been absent-mindedly drinking whisky all night in the back of the club, me.
I won't lie; I'm an attractive mystery. I'm good-looking, obviously wealthy, and equally obviously unattached. But I sit in the back, drink, and people-watch. Always alone. When people see me, however, they never stare for long. I was cursed with an unnerving presence, compounded by my good looks. I can see it on their faces, the confused expression that shows they want to approach as much as they want to avoid me.
I can also spot the one who will stare, it's almost always a woman and she's also always talented. Artists and musicians seem able to look past the need to flee and give over to the mystery.
Its going on midnight now, the crowds have started to thin, I'm getting ready to leave when I hear a rush of air from the front door, carried on that wind is an alluring aroma. My attention is caught immediately; it's a clean flowery scent that stands out from the usual stench of vomit and sweat. A small group of women, three but it sounds like a fourth is due to arrive, the oldest probably twenty-four has entered and taken a table near the stage area. They order drinks and chatter for a while, later joined by the fourth.
I watch them closely, listening and taking in their interactions. I notice one girl isn't as animated as the others, I watch her more closely. The conversation turns to her, it seems she turned twenty-one just recently. My attention locks onto her. They order drinks and cat, the young one trailing considerably in alcohol intake. Now the others have begun to goad her into performing. From the way they sounded it seemed they wouldn't stop until she did, and she knew it.
Reluctantly, and a little awkwardly she gets on the stage. Whispering to the man running the karaoke machine she takes a deep breath and listens, and so do I. Now, with her separated from her friends, I realize she has the scent I noticed when they all entered. I stare transfixed as the opening bars to Think of Me float onto the air, we catch each other's eyes for a moment and just when it seems she'll miss her cue, she begins to sing her eyes roaming the room like a trained performer. Her pitch is perfect, the emotion on her voice makes the melancholy song sound more personal. I'm sure every man in the club thought her velvety voice was directed toward them.
She is wonderful; the audience is transfixed as she the end of the song reaches its crescendo and her voice rings out with the final note. Everyone stands and applauds, she smiles and bows, we catch eyes again as she leaves the stage and her friends track her gaze back to me but I stay focused on her. She rejoins her friends as they shower her with compliments eventually pointing out that I had been watching the entire time without any reaction. She looks back at me, she blushes a little as I hold her stare. I glance over to the bar, and then back at her as I stand and take a stool. I order another glass of whisky and wait.
She cautiously walks over to me, I ask her to join and she takes a seat next to mine. Introducing myself to her she tells me her name is Tammy. I buy her a drink and we talk for a while. I complement her performance and ask if she plays any other instruments. She admits that she plays a little piano but singing was always what she was good at. She asks if I play and I tell her that I too play piano. Then she gives me my in, she tells me that she wants to own a baby-grand piano some day. I smile a little and ask if she would like to come to my apartment, listen to some music and play my baby-grand. Her eyes go wide at the opportunity, but she hesitates, questioning my motives. I tell her that she can come right back to her friends as soon as she's seen enough. That seals the deal, she returns to her friends for her bag and we leave.
Stepping into the night we talk more, about work and our families, we compare music interests and I promise to let her borrow a few CDs. In no time we arrive at my building. I open the door for her; she shivers a little as she steps by me. Down the short hallway we stop at an elevator, she shivers again as we wait. I apologize to her for the temperature as we ride up to my floor.
It's a quiet and quick ride up, the doors open and we step into my suite. Well, I step in; she gawks for a moment before her eyes settle on the piano. I take off my jacket and tie, loosening the top button I walk over to her as she stares adoringly at the instrument. I sit at the keys and gently play out a soft scale to check the tuning. She smiles at each perfect note, I smile also. I gesture to a small cushioned chair on my right next to the piano and ask her to sit.
I softly lay my fingers on a chord and begin to play a gentle, flowing melody. She listens and watches intently, taking in the song. I look at her also, a sideways glance up from the keys to see her reaction, she smiles. The song is slow and flowing, the tone more melancholy almost sad and I can see the music is moving her. Nearing the end now, I carefully play each chord as the song hits a ritardando and decrescendos to just above a whisper on the final notes. She sighs a little and doesn't speak as I stand up from the piano and step over to her.
She accepts, and wants, my advances as I place my hands on the arm rests of her chair. I lean down and kiss her cheek; she shivers again but says nothing. I kiss her again, where her jaw meets her neck, eliciting another shiver. I softly and slowly kiss down her neck to her collar bone as she wraps her arms around me, shaking more violently. I apologize that it is so cold and promise to make it up to her.
She begins to ask but I stop her short and strike. My canines plunge into her neck and puncture her jugular as she gasps, not with pain but with pleasure. I drink every drop as her blood fills me, rejuvenates me. I drink her in as she writhes under me, her breathing labored. I easily lift her from the chair and she squeezes herself to me, giving in to the pleasure of my kiss. I drink more, listening to her breathing and heart strong with arousal. I gently slide one hand up her thigh and between her legs, gently stimulating her as the sensations send her into climax. Her heart pounds harder, feeding me faster as she continues to orgasm, the pleasure of my bite fuels her sexual high.
We stay that way for three minutes. My hunger satiated as her heartbeat weakens, with a gentle flick of my tongue the bite is closed and she collapses asleep in my arms. I carefully hold her and close my eyes; I see a small empty apartment not three blocks away. She lives a lone there, perfect. I dim the lights in the room and step into the bedroom, opening the window I leap into the night. Across the road, landing on a rooftop I turn towards her apartment and take a running leap, clearing two buildings and landing on the third which is right across from her apartment. I spot her window from across the way and leap again, landing with one foot on the sill. The window unlocked I quickly enter and lay her on the bed.
Taking her head in my hands I close my eyes again, she is still breathing and her heart is beating as I delve into her memories. The ones of tonight are fresh and at the front of her thoughts, I erase them all. She will never remember my face, my apartment, how we got there or what I did to her. However, I do leave her two memories: the music and the pleasure. She will remember the stranger played for her and pleasured her and how wonderful both were.
My business finished, I climb out of her window and return to my own.