The bustling club was hazy with smoke, and the smell of liquor wafted through the air. Ashlynn scanned the writhing crowd, trying to get past the strong smell of copper that was surrounding her. Clubs were awful to try and find good meals at. The blood was tainted with drugs and alcohol, something Ashlynn had learned the hard way would make her mind turn to fog.

She kept her head low as she navigated the scene, smiling as she passed people. A few men spared her looks, and she tried her best to focus on their smells as she tried to find a good meal. She shouldn't have been at the club in the first place. She had promised James she would stay at the hotel for the night. On top of that, she had promised the Countess no more hunting at clubs after a particularly nasty few days of dizziness after she had feasted on one man who's blood had been severely tainted.

But listening to the Countess was one thing she never had gotten used to, even after nearly three years at the Hotel Cortez. This had caused numerous arguments, with the Countess finally, to an extent, giving up on controlling Ashlynn's wild temper.

As she walked, there seemed to be a shift in her senses. The smell of copper weakened, and her blue eyes landed on a young man. He stood alone, leaned casually against the wall. A beer was in his hand, though unopened. He looked bored, though a smile formed on his face as Ashlynn approached. "Enjoying your night?" she asked, looking him over.

"Now that you're here, yes."

"Flatterer."

He shrugged. "Maybe I'm just a nice guy."

She chuckled at that, glancing around at the crowd of people. "So, what's your name?" she asked.

"Michael," he replied, holding out a hand.

She shook it with a faint smile. "Ashlynn."

"Ashlynn? That's a pretty name."

She chuckled again, biting slightly at her lip. "Want to hook up?"

"Forward," he noted, his eyes widening a bit.

"I know what I want."

"I like that."

"I figured."

He looked around before nodding. "Yeah," he said.

Ashlynn smiled, taking his arm tightly. "Great," she said.

She found herself crammed into a bathroom stall, trying to avoid hitting the toilet as he kissed her hungrily. Trying not to gag, she fumbled to retrieve the small switchblade in her jean pocket. In a split second she had the blade sticking into his neck. His eyes clouded over and he fell back as she twisted to press him against the wall, pulling the blade free as she let the drops of sweet crimson fall into her mouth.

She could have drained him dry right then, but the sound of the door opening stopped her. She slowly stepped out of the stall, closing it behind her. Licking the blood from her lips, she kept her head down, brushing past a young man, who stared after as she left the bathroom.

It was a short walk from the club back to the hotel, and Iris glanced up as Ashlynn approached the counter. "You're back," she said. "Still hungry?"

"A bit, but it's fine. Not worth risking Mother Dearest finding out I broke into her stores."

At that, Iris almost chuckled. "Well," she said. "I suppose you'd understand it more than me."

"I know my limits," Ashlynn said, and she leaned her elbows on the counter, smiling. "How are you doing, Iris?"

Iris raised an eyebrow. "No one here asks how I'm doing unless they want something."

"Do I have to want something every time I speak with you?"

"Not every time."

Ashlynn chuckled faintly. "Three years I've known you," she said. "I'm surprised we don't know more about each other."

"You know enough."

"All I know is that Donovan is your son, and he would have this hotel thinking that wasn't true."

Iris tensed at that, and Ashlynn sighed softly. "Sorry. Point taken. Any guests up in my room?"

Iris shook her head, and Ashlynn offered a smile before she straightened fully, making way toward the elevator. She smoothed her hands along her jeans, leaning against the back wall with an air of casualness that she never would have had before she was turned.

In the three years she had spent at the hotel as one of the Countess' many progeny, Ashlynn had developed a confidence she never would have thought she would experience. And a strange part of her loved that feeling.

She played with the switchblade, turning it over in her hands, popping out the blade a few times just to see the way the metal glinted in the elevators' light. She smiled only to herself, only putting the blade away when the doors slid open, their metal gears squeaking softly.

Bathed in the faint light of the hallway, her light hair looked almost orange. She lowered her head as she made way toward her room, trying to avoid the eyes she felt on her back.

Only as she opened the door to her room did she look back, locking eyes with Cierra, who stood at the end of the hall. With a weak smile, Ashlynn stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.