A/N This idea came to me out of no where and while I was attempting to write a different piece, I decided to focus on this instead. It might not be to everyone's tastes, and maybe I've made a few too many changes to the history of these women, but if you'll allow me to entertain you with this first chapter, we'll see where we go with this! Also, thank you to everyone for the wonderful feedback and reviews!
The barkeep, Nicolas, was as placid as a jellyfish on the shore. The girls answered to Pam obediently as a dog obeyed its master. Pamela Sywnford De Beaufort answered to no one. Perusing the bar, Pamela sat casually with one knee crossed neatly over the other. The bodice she wore dug into her sides yet she kept her expression neutral as one of her girls approached.
"Got a little pick-me-up for a working girl?" The woman's tone bordered flippant as she glanced to the large ruby ring upon Pam's little finger. Allowing a knowing smile, Pam lent toward the girl as she pressed a small, discreet button which caused the lid to lift on the secret inner compartment. Within the bowl, white powder rest and it was this powder the girl sought. A quick sniff and she stood upright, the drug already coursing through her. Pam reached up to wipe the tiny dab left behind and said nothing as the girl nodded her thanks before turning away. Sliding back around in her seat, she gestured to Nicolas.
"Campari." Pam's droll tone didn't not deter the barkeep as he simply placed a clean tumbler in front of her before adding several dashes of the amber liquid. Pam snatched it from the polished wooden counter and drained the glass in one mouthful. Turning her back on Nicolas once more, she scanned the elaborate parlor surrounding her. Girls roamed between the gentlemen puffing cigars, the working men still in their coal-dusted clothing and the odd man with stubble, a crooked top-hat and tattered attire. Pam knew the type. Looking for a free ride, leaving more than a few bruises behind, Pam had dealt with more than her share of creeps. Pamela had learnt the hard way that men like that listened to no woman, no whore, no matter how dolled up she was.
Pam felt her cheek twitch as the dark thoughts swirled through her mind and she turned away from the girls, dipping her head away from the barkeep. The crushed velvet encasing the bodice, midnight blue as a peacock, as fancy as it was, was just wrapping. The make-up so carefully applied was nothing but a mask. Having come from nothing, knowing nothing, Pam had done what she believed to be the only thing she could; cold-hearted and meticulous, doing whatever she could to drag herself from the gutter. And while the girls listened to her, even they did not respect her. Pam had no cared to begin with but when other women began to turn from her and whisper over their tea or cross the street to avoid passing her, Pam had known she would never rise above it. Instead she had become hard, uncaring.
The bell at the door chimed, drawing Pam from her reverie and she glanced up in time to see a dark-skinned woman, decked out in the finest men's wear and top hat Pam had ever seen, stroll into the parlor. The woman did not care a lick that all eyes turned to her, the girls giggling and the men frowning as they murmured amongst themselves. With confidence in her step, she moved across the red carpet. Pam watched, deeply amused, that this woman bore the same look on her face as the men did; a hunter hunting for prey. The amusement quickly faded when the woman's gaze was suddenly upon her, locking on as she swept across the short distance between them.
As the woman drew closer, Pam felt herself captivated; a strange feeling to her. It was as if she could not take her gaze from the woman had she even wanted to. And there was no chance of that. A thrill tingled down her spine as finally the woman reached her. Leaning forward, lips set in a firm line, the woman set one hand on the bar, the other resting on her hip. Pam's entire body trembled. The days of taking clients up to the bedrooms above them were long behind her. Pam's place was at the bar, overseeing and accepting payment for services provided. Yet had this woman commanded it, Pam would have followed without question, nor hesitation.
"See something that... interests you?" Pam tried to keep the slight hint of desperation from her voice. Pam desired no one and preferred it that way. Yet the longer the two women held one another's gaze the more convinced Pam became that this woman was the one exception.
"Perhaps." The woman's voice caused Pam to throb as she practically melted from the barstool. Suddenly aware of her surroundings, of the eyes upon them, Pam used every ounce of willpower she possessed. Rising elegantly, Pam pursed her lips together before gesturing the woman to follow her. Pam was more than pleased to glance over her shoulder and see the woman close behind her. They did not take the staircase, Pam moving past them and down a narrow hallway. Pausing at the only door in sight, Pam retrieved a key from the long silver chain around her neck, having had it tucked between her breasts, out of sight. Sliding the key into the lock, she looked over her shoulder once more before turning the key.
The door opened to a shorter hallway which opened into one large room. Sectioned off in one corner by large Japanese-style screens rest a Queen-sized feather mattress upon a wrought iron frame. In another corner a small kitchenette and across from that, a dressing table with a pitcher of water resting in a large matching porcelain bowl. It was quaint, a tad drafty but more than sufficient for her. Turning slowly on one heel, Pam met the gaze of the gorgeous cocoa woman before her. In that moment, the woman's lips parted and what could only be described as fangs snapped loudly. Pam did not blink, did not flinch away and the woman arched an eyebrow, surprised.
"I don't scare you?"
"Lady," Pam quipped in a dry tone, "You think I haven't seen worse in my time?" A brief flash danced through her mind of just a handful of the horrific things she'd seen in her time. This was nothing, relatively boring even.
"I suppose you have."
"You have a name?" Pam's confidence grew as she began to wonder just what the look in the woman's eye could mean. There was intrigued there, in the dark irises, and there was something else she could not quite place. Arousal? Desire? Pam wanted to know.
"I do. It's not important."
"Then what is?" When the woman was suddenly upon her, inches away, Pam gasped. The speed had been unexpected. What other surprises did this woman have?
"What..." Pam's voice hitched as she inhaled the woman's scent deeply. "What do you want with me?" The woman did not speak, eyes traveling across Pam's body, slowly moving downwards. The tip of her tongue appears between her lips and Pam's own mouth opened slightly. One hand slowly moved towards her and when cold fingertips caressed her cheek, she exhaled sharply. Not from the unexpected cold but from the wave of pleasure that struck her at the exact moment the woman did. What did Pam have to do to make the woman touch her again, perhaps even kiss her. Did she have to beg? Pam was not beyond such a display particularly if it got the results she desired.
"Remove your bodice." Pam held the woman's gaze as she slowly began to work the strings holding the corset tightly upon her body. As the material became loose, Pam felt cold fingertips brush across her chest and she gasped once more. "Close your eyes." Pam obliged. The feel of fangs dragging across her flesh caused her to tremor once again as firm hands gripped her shoulders. When the woman's lips touched to her skin, Pam emitted a moan that turned into a sharp gasp as those fangs penetrated. The sensations were overwhelming. Pam had felt arousal in the past, lust and even passion. This was so much more and get was laced with a slight ache, albeit one that made her want more.
Feeling those fingers move across her body, the woman instinctively knowing that Pam would not try to escape her clutches, Pam lent closer to the body before her. Hands slid across her naked back, pushing the material of her skirts away. In nothing but the lacy undergarments she wore, Pam was completely exposed as the woman continued to drink of her blood. Just as a slightly uneasy feeling began to make itself more known, the woman suddenly pulled back. Pam let out a disappointed whimper. Ebony eyes flashed as the woman brought her hand to Pam's throat, holding her in place as she then lifted one finger to her bloodstained fangs. Pricking her own skin she let a drop of blood appear before wiping it across the tiny wounds. Pam could feel her skin knit back together and reached up to feel the smooth flesh in wonderment.
The woman suddenly vanished from the room, leaving Pam stunned, mouth agape. Racing down the hallway and not even taking the time to lock the door as she always did, Pam practically tumbled into the parlor. The merriment of chatter that had filled the room silence for a brief moment as all eyes turned towards her. Slowing herself, she forced herself to appear composed even as her heart raced. Whoever the woman had been, whatever she had been, Pam only knew she had to see her again.