The cool light of the moon shines brightly overhead as Miranda slips into the door of the Galerie Sombre. The place is a haven for the high society Camarilla and Toreador clan members. During the day, a steady stream of visitors come to admire the hanging paintings, photographs and sculptures by premier Lamar artists. At night it is a place of revelry and decadence. A quieter, more personal atmosphere than a night-club presides, but the wine and other stronger drink and drugs flow freely. Several kindred have herd amongst the staff and regular patrons. A main room with many lounges and over-sized leather chairs is the hub of activity. Dimly lit by candles and chandeliers, couples and groups exchange caresses and low voiced conversations. Smaller adjoining rooms offer privacy to those who wish it.

Tonight Miranda wears a slim fitting A-line dress, belted at a high waist. The deep red color sets off the dark sable of her hair and the paleness of her skin. She is lightly adorned with delicate diamonds in a necklace and bracelet. She enters the lounge and greets the many patrons who know her and desire a minute of her time. From guest to guest she circulates, causing the mood in the room to heighten to a sensual peak. Many couples and small groups move off to the private rooms.

She knew the one she wanted almost immediately upon entering. He was tall and slim, sandy brown hair fell disheveled around his face. High cheekbones offset startlingly green eyes. He was lovely. She purposefully avoided him while she mingled, knowing he watched her, knowing he wanted her. She played out tendrils of seduction, glancing at him occasionally, always finding him looking back.

Miranda moved to the door of one of the small chambers watched by many. She met his eyes and gave a small nod. Fierce desire and heat flared in his gaze and he strode towards her, almost threatening in his manner. He grabbed her arm when he reached her and pulled her into the room, closing the door. Inwardly, Miranda smiled as he crushed her body to his and took her mouth with the pent up passion of watching her all night. She knew he would not want to go slowly or wait for release and that suited her just fine. He picked her up effortlessly and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her skirts riding up to reveal bare legs and shaved flesh. Still claiming her mouth, he reached down to undo his pants and eliminate the last barrier between them. As he sheathed her, he ripped the small pearl buttons of her dress to pinch and knead her small breasts. Miranda directed the living blood in her body to heat the cleft between her legs, driving the man to release. As he did so, she bit into his neck taking long slow drinks of his lifeblood while his seed burst insider her. He collapsed onto the nearby bed, and she tenderly licked the wound she had created, then stood up at gazed at him. So beautiful. He would sleep deeply for many hours to replenish what she had taken from him and remember only fierce pleasure.

Not bothering to straighten her hair or fix the dress, she reemerged into the main lounge, a languid smile on her face and the pink of new blood suffusing her body. She would enjoy the rest of her night.