Disclaimer: It's AAR's.
Jada Austen: I found the website the day before I read your review. Thanks for telling me about it though, and thank you again for correcting me on the Hawksong mistake. I hope you enjoy this story.
Lannan: Thanks, I can never remember how to spell it.
DarkAngelB: I'm just imitating AAR's style, nothing more ^_^ But thanks. And I hope you enjoy all of the chapters.
Thanks to Griffinkhan for beta-ing.
Chapter Three: Club Noctium
I push open the metal-and-glass door that is the entrance to Noctium, another nightclub owned by my kind. Unlike Ambrosia, which is located in the dying heart of the city, Noctium is in the wealthier part of New York. There is no guard asking for a pass or checking off a list; it is not needed. Those who know of Noctium are precisely the ones who are invited.
There is a balcony railing in view when one walks in, and stairs spiraling down on either side. I walk up to the railing and survey the room. The style is modern, and on the floor many are dancing, while off to the side are metal tables and chairs for those who do not wish to dance. There is a balcony running all the way around the room, with stairs placed at regular intervals. Under my feet is a stage, with a band performing on it. The lead singer appears to be female, with dark hair and an incredible voice. Opposite the stage, on the other side of the room, is a bar, where a bartender mixes drinks while a cook prepares food. Waitresses weave amongst the dancers and tables, serving and obtaining orders. The lighting is shadowy and surreal, with the exception of the stage.
I am busy watching the people, and do not notice that someone has come up behind me.
"Hello, Risika," says a female voice into my ear. I turn and look at the speaker. She has dark hair and brown skin, is wearing all black, and is grinning like a feral cat. Fala.
"Hello Fala," I greet her, hoping she will go away. I do not like her, as she disgraces the name of vampire. I cannot see why Jager even tolerates her, let alone care for her.
It is weakness to care for another. It surprises me that Jager flaunts it like he does. Aubrey too, his weakness is for Jessica. Do they not see that if I were to harm Jessica or Fala, it would harm them too? Perhaps they fancy themselves powerful enough to take revenge. I know Aubrey cannot hurt me, but as for Jager, he could damage me. I would win, however. He would never stop grieving if I killed Fala, and that in itself is a victory.
"So Risika," Fala continues, in a voice like poisoned honey. "Whatever brings you here? I would have thought you'd be at home, grieving for the loss of your poor kitten."
I freeze. Today was the anniversary of Tora's death. I had paid my respects earlier, to a mound of dirt in a forest near the zoo, a mound with no marker and overgrown with weeds. It pains me to go there, but I feel as if I must. How dare Fala speak so flippantly of my loss?
This is my weakness then. A dead cat in a forest.
I turn to Fala, with a lazy smile on my face. "Well, what are you doing here as well? I can see Jessica down there, and did not think that you wanted to be in the same room as the monument to your failure." Fala's lovely face is a work of art. She turns to leave, but not before one last parting shot.
"Careful Risika. Aubrey is there as well, and we don't want to let him know you fear him still."
She descends down a staircase, and out of sight. I turn back to surveying the room when I feel someone appear next to me. The aura tells me it is Jager. Wherever Fala goes, Jager is never very far behind.
"How can you stand her?" I ask, before even thinking of the consequences. Jager never likes for others to speak ill of Fala. It was fortunate for me that he was in a good mood.
"Well," Jager replies, "She is loyal to the ones she cares for, and will hurt anyone who hurts them. And you have to admit," he says with a smile, "It's never dull."
I neither say nor do anything. I cannot see any good points in Fala, but to say otherwise would be suicide. I may be as strong as Jager, but he and I have yet to test this theory, and I do not wish to do so tonight. Instead, I turn the topic to something else.
" New Mayhem," I say. "How are things there?" It is a question I ask every time I see him, and yet never tire of it. Concord has a wonderful aura, of strength and purpose, but it is not the same as New Mayhem. Jager says nothing, but stares ahead, watching the room. Finally, he replies.
"Things are⦠interesting," he says slowly. "You know, Risika, I've often wondered why you don't live there. Aubrey can't hurt you, and the benefits of having a home there are multiple. It would do well for you to consider it."
I listen carefully. In truth, I have thought many times about moving there, but never truly considered it. Perhaps I should.
"Are there any houses available?" I ask. New Mayhem is perhaps the seat of vampiric power in the entire country. The only city that comes close is Twilight, a town nestled in the mountains of Virginia. It is the closest vampiric town to Washington DC, and its purpose is the same as the capital of the humans: law and policy. One could say that New Mayhem is the vampiric version of New York City; style and culture are it's main concerns. Everyone who is anyone has a house there. Unfortunately, housing is also in short supply, and one has to wait for someone to move out in order to get one. I suppose I could build one, but I do not know if the Council would approve.
"I don't know," Jager replies. "You could stop by and see. I believe the claims house is open, you could go there now."
I say nothing, trying to decide if I should take his advice. I come to a decision, and without a goodbye, leave. I appear just outside of the town. I pause for a moment to get my bearings before walking on.
A building looms out of the mist. Nyeusgrube, the Den of Shadows. It is a low, one story building with a plain door. On the other side, are steps descending into darkness. There are tunnels under there, dark caves full of rumors and dreams. Some foolhardy vampires make their homes down there, but the rooms never extend beyond the first few caves. We do not know what is in the further passages, and no one has any interest in finding out. You do not survive by making daring decisions.
I pass other houses, some offices, and a library. Further into town is the claims office, its windows alit and door unlocked. Though locks do not stop us, it does keep full and blood bonded humans out. I open the door and step inside.
There is a wooden desk at the end of the room. Chairs line the walls, and sconces are lit with candles. It has a distinctly colonial flavor, which many would find strange in a modern town, but I like it. It is familiar, at least.
I walk to the desk and, scorning the bell, summon the woman with my mind. She appears, flustered with surprise, but wisely does not argue. She has been blood bonded, and knows firsthand what vampires are capable of. I tell her my errand, and she nods.
"I believe we have a house that has just opened up. You may put in a claim, and I will submit it to the board to make a decision. There are at least five others waiting as well." I agree to be put on the list before stepping out into the night.
New Mayhem is not a very small town. Not all vampires like to go into New York City, and others are too young to do so. The population may be a few thousand, though I do not know. The Council takes a census every ten years, but the results are usually never announced. Why announce something when no one cares? It is enough that it is a town for vampires.
I take myself into the nearby woods. The woods at night are wonderful to behold, full of darkness and shadow and broken dreams. I look up through the near-barren branches, and catch sight of the moon. The crispness of the air hints at snow, and it makes me feel alive. I can dimly sense other vampiric auras in this forest, but they are of no threat to me.
My errand done, I turn to go. Just then I feel someone appear, and the scent of blood hangs in the air.
