Hey, this may be my last for a while. exams are soon. i hope that this chapter is alright. towards the end i get into a bit up "uncharted territory." (AKA an area where i have NO experience.) haha. i hope it sounds convincing and not just creepy or pathetic. haha. anyhoo...enjoy for the next little while. thank you!
When they reached the parking garage, there was a flurry of activity happening around them. There Pure Bloods and Half Bloods and the Turned standing around as harassed looking Faithfuls scurried to a fro, sorting out travel details. A rather harried looking man rushed up to them, practically tripping over his feet to stop and bow at a respectful distance, asking in a rushed voice, "Have you made arrangements?"
Norah gave him a cool look, her blond bimbo-ness seeming to melt away as authority settled on her shoulders. She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. "There isn't anything available?" she asked in a calm manner, but the edge in her voice was tangible. "Do you not know who we are?" she gestured to herself and Elaina. It was at that moment that Rikard appeared, as if on cue, at Elaina's side. The two true Myras looked very intimidating.
The Faithful looked as if he was having a heart attack, the blood drained from his face so quickly. He apparently did know who they were, for he instantly began falling-over himself to apologize. Marchette listened halfheartedly. The man was saying something about how there were no drivers or escorts left at the moment. After having enough of his babble, Marchette cut in. "If it's a driver that's required, I'll do it."
The man looked half-relieved. "If you wanted to wait ten minutes sir," the Faithful assure him, "you wouldn't have to put yourself through the hassle."
Marchette rolled his eyes. "Its no hassle." He took Elaina lightly by the wrist and steered her towards an empty SUV. As he helped her in, he turned to Norah and Rikard, asking "Are you two coming?"
Norah sighed, as if she'd been put through a great inconvenience, but gustily declared she would. Rikard just shrugged turned to the Faithful, saying, "I need a bike."
The Faithful practically fainted with relief. Twelve seconds later, Norah was in the back seat of the SUV with Elaina and Rikard was mounting a motorcycle and was checking his weapons. His eyes met with the Nichelle bodyguard's and he drove off ahead of the SUV.
It only took moments to reach the "small club," as Norah described it. This supposedly small club was actually a warehouse that had been converted into a two-story facility that featured a mosh pit, overlooked by a bar that ran all along the original catwalks. The open section of the ground floor was filled with people. Pure Blood, Half Blood, Turned and humans alike. Marchette was almost overwhelmed by the scent of them. It'd been so long since he'd last fed. Nearly two weeks. The smell of so many humans releasing such strong pheromones was almost unbearable. He could tell, by the way she stiffened by his side that his mistress was under the same distress.
Elaina's eyes briefly rolled half back in her head as she fought off a very powerful urge to rip into the nearest human. This made her guilty, bringing back memories of her friend who'd lain dying on the pavement, exsanguinating from wounds she'd inflicted, less than twenty-four hours before. The thought made her hate herself. But she hid it, forcing the self-loathing deep down, so that she could think straight. She concentrated hard on the faces Norah brought before her. Next she focused intensely in the shot glass that was placed in front of her.
It was blood red. She could smell the blood in it. But there was something more; the smell of strong alcohol also wafted off. Making a slight face, she gingerly picked up the glass and drained it. The liquor burned her throat and she coughed violently. A hand pounded her back, ineffectually. Eventually, she calmed herself, or at least calm her self as much as possible. The blood and alcohol had set her nerves on fire, but it soon faded to a slight, warm tingle. She panted heavily as her Blood Lust flared then slowly receded.
The man who'd initially offered her the drink, a nephew or great-nephew, asked, "You like?"
All Elaina could do was nod emphatically. For a moment or so, she'd forgotten her guilt for killing her friend, and for wanting to kill again. She wanted to forget more. So much more.
The nephew-or-great-nephew grinned. "Want another?" he teased, holding up a second drink, barely out of Elaina's reach.
Elaina glared when he jerked the glass farther out of reach when she extended her hand for it. The nephew-or-great-nephew laughed and handed her the shot. She downed it in a second. As she came down from the high of the second shot, a man, a Pure Blood, who was apparently the father of one of Elaina's nieces, came over to ask for a dance.
The night continued on in such a fashion. She'd dance with some guy, leave the dance floor, return to the bar, where her bodyguard had been watching from, and have another drink. After a time, a new man would approach her. He'd order her a new drink and ask her out to dance. She'd dance for a while, then return to the spot at the bar beside her bodyguard. By the time Marchette practically dragged her out of the club, she'd made out with three men for no reason (the last one she was actually leaving with) and felt fairly numb. To speak required effort and she felt heavy. There was one bonus though. She couldn't think. If she couldn't think, she couldn't remember, then she didn't feel guilty or depressed.
By the time they'd reached the street outside the warehouse, Elaina found her senses were on overdrive. A human walked past too closely, kicking up a draft of his scent. She turned, instantaneous blood lust taking control of her, and she moved to strike. She would have been able to reach him if Marchette hadn't seized her arm in an iron grip and jerked her in the opposite direction. She snarled at him tried to free herself.
The bodyguard rolled his eyes and dragged her into the shadows of the alley. "Calm down," he hissed, pushing her against the warehouse wall. Elaina just bared her teeth and snarled again. "Calm down," he repeated, shaking her shoulders, causing her head to bump against the wall.
At that moment a human chose to walk past. He saw Marhcette shove Elaina back against the wall once more, in a rather vicious fashion. "Hey," he called, "Are you alright?"
Elaina's attention snapped to him, and she began struggling harder. She opened her mouth to call out to him, but Marchette threw a hand over her mouth and drew a sharp breath when her teeth sunk deep into it. "Yeah," he called back to the idiot, through gritted teeth, glaring at his charge as he forced her jaw open to free his hand. "We're just peachy!"
"I wasn't asking you," the man snapped. "I was making sure that she was ok." The idiot did the stupidest thing yet; he started down the alley.
Shit! Marchette thought. He glared at his charge over his bleeding hand and hissed, "Say you're fine and I promise I'll make it up to you however you want. But say that you're fine."
Elaina raised an eyebrow and gave him a rather devious look, and for a moment Marchette was terrified she'd call the man over. Instead though, she called to him, "I'm fine."
"Alright," the man said, walking away, 'that's all I wanted to hear."
Marchette watched the man go, angling his body so he felt whenever Elaina altered her stance. When he turned back to her, she had a rather suggestive look on her face. "How exactly do you intend to repay me?" She raised a perfect eyebrow. The sultry tone was ruined by the way her words lightly slurred together.
"How do you think?" He asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes. "With blood."
She shrugged and eased out from under his sheltering position. They got to the car with no further incidents. And things were good until they ran into a slight mishap at the parking garage. It appeared that a Faithful had taken a rather nasty fall the day before, and his scabs were only partially sealed. They were still oozing a little. As soon as Elaina got wind of it, she was moving towards him. Marchette, who'd smelled the blood earlier than she had, eased between her and the unfortunate Faithful, and extended his still bleeding hand. Her eyes widened excitedly and she sunk her teeth once more into his already ravaged hand. He only allowed her a moment to drink though, before he jerked his hand away. He then led the way to her rooms.
Marchette knew very well that Elaina was hammered. It was rather obvious by the way she was staggering around. He knew should have been watching her more closely, but he'd forgotten how young she was. He hadn't known this was the first time she'd mixed blood and alcohol, and therefore hadn't warned her of its potency. He wanted to kick himself for his stupidity. He'd stood by and watched her empty shot-glass after shot-glass; and had neglected to remember that a nineteen-year-old would not be able to combat liquor like a ninety-year-old. Stupid! he though viciously, as he caught her stumbling.
They finally reached her door and she leaned against the doorframe as he fumbled for keys. While he did so, he wondered how badly his own mind was affected by alcohol. He'd had several drinks over the course of the night. He could start to feel it now, as the buzz of alcoholic thrill wore off and the hum of Blood Lust set in. The fact that he'd allowed his charge to drink his own blood also drained him of his willpower and strength. It was starting to hurt somewhat. Stupid he thought again.
After much fumbling, he finally got the door open. He turned to help Elaina when he caught her staring at him. There was a strange look on her face, a sort of dreamy stare. He frowned but this look was quickly replaced with an expression of shock as she slowly reached up a hand to caress his face. She whispered his name just before she pressed her lips to his.
For a moment he froze, his mind raced and senses shrieked. A part of him screamed that they were both intoxicated; that she'd regret this later. That he was her bodyguard and this did not fall into the contract, and could very well get him destroyed by Lord Nichelle. A much larger, louder faction of his mind, most likely the drunken one, told the smaller, quieter part to shut up, and pushed it deep into the back of his mind.
It didn't really matter though, because all opposition was destroyed when his mistress whispered, "You owe me," and slid her small, warm tongue into his mouth. His fangs, which had been semi-extended over the past day or so, a result of his Blood Lust, scratched Elaina's tongue, cutting it. Her sweet blood trickled into his mouth, and he lost his mind.
He pressed into her roughly, causing her to stumble back into the doorframe. Moaning slightly in his mouth, Elaina wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. Marchette pushed into her mouth with his tongue, and began a battle of sorts within it. He sliced his tongue on her teeth. Blood filled their mouths, running out of their lips and down their chins.
Panting, the girl broke away, whispering huskily, "Perhaps you should come inside." She moved away from the doorframe, into the room. Marchette kicked the door shut as he moved after her. She made it to the bedroom's threshold when he attacked her mouth again, becoming more aroused when she responded with equal fervor. She began to fumble with the buttons of his shirt, as he kneaded her breasts. Frustrated with the slow pace of unbuttoning, Elaina ripped open the shirt, sliding her hands up his back under it. As she did so, Marchette slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders. They stood a moment, mouths battling again, and then Marchette pulled Elaina's dress over her head.
As he stared at her body, she giggled slightly and unbuttoned his pants, letting them fall to the floor. When her hand brushed over his painfully aroused groin, he groaned and kissed her with further zeal, hooking his shoes off with his toes and stepping out of his pants. He felt her smile against his mouth, and she bit into his lip, her mouth clamping onto his as blood oozed from the wound. He forced her backwards, so she fell onto the bed, but she sat right back up again and began to kiss his chest. Marchette stifled a moan as she ran her lips over his nipples; her hand, unnoticed, was inching lower along his stomach. When she seized his groin through his boxers, he groaned loudly, the volume increasing as she began to rub it roughly. Kneeling on the bed, she was at his eyelevel, and she held his gaze as her hand ran over his erection.
Breathing raggedly, Marchette fumbled with her bra, pulling it off. When he took one of her breasts in his mouth, she gasped, throwing her head back and arching her back, her hand twitched, squeezing his balls. Marchette pushed her down with his head, and she fell back, his mouth still sucking at her tit. He climbed on top of her, kneeling over her, her hand still massaging his groin. Marchette then latched onto her other breast, but slowly, his kisses trailed up her neck. He could hear her ragged breath in his ear, and he felt his fangs slide out fully. Looking to her face, he saw the glazed look in her eye, and how her own fangs protruded over her swollen red lips. He hadn't drunk in so long. Even to check to see if she'd allow it was unbearable. As delicately as he believed he could muster, he bit into the soft flesh at the top of her breasts. Gasping, she ran her hands over his back, digging in her nails when he bit her again. He sucked hard around the skin of the wound, earning himself a very loud groan from Elaina.
Wheezing, she flipped him so that she sat on his hips, grinding into his hard cock through their underwear. That was all she wore. Her amazing shoes and lacy red underwear. When Marchette grunted with his lust, she grinned demonically, her fangs sliding out further, as she leaned forward and sank her teeth into his chest. Groaning he arched his back, crushing his hips into hers.
Withdrawing her lips from his breast, she reached between her legs and caressed his dick. Then, lifting her hips slightly, as she pulled the aching appendage from the confines of his boxers, and she squeezed, hard.
"Oh God," he gasped. His fingers, which had been running through her hair, gripped hard, and he roughly pulled her down to seize her mouth with his. One handedly, he pulled his boxers off the rest of the way, and tried pulling off her underwear as well. When he was unable to, she sat up straighter and did it herself.
Pushing her aggressively, he forced her onto her back, running his hand up her thigh. He grinned when she shuddered. Slowly, he slid his hand onto her crotch, cupping it, sliding it back and forth. She moaned, and squirmed when he inserted a finger into her wetness. "Isn't someone excited?" he remarked, as she gasped for more.
Elaina laughed breathlessly, and grabbed his balls again. "Don't make me wait longer Nikoli," she murmured gustily, kneading his testicles gently, "cause I know that you can't!"
Grinning, Marchette muttering, "of course," as he sat back on his heels, pulling her up into his lap. She hovered above him for a moment, before he seized her hips and pulled her down as he thrust up. She gasped in ecstasy, her back dramatically arching, as he pushed deeper still.
