The door to Fangtasia was heavy. It had to be, it was made of solid metal. There was a single window at the front of the bar, a remnant from when the place used to be a video rental store—but it was already shuttered tight for the coming morning. Inside, the music was off, the chairs were on the tables, and the vampire bar looked almost abandoned.
Not quite, though.
The bar was clean, the three thrones on the dais looked well polished, and there was faint music coming from beyond the Personnel door. Faint in that you could barely hear it from the club proper—but Lucifer suspected it was deafening where it was coming from. No doubt the women who were running this bar were in the basement—no, the dungeon—enjoying what was left of their night.
Eric paced across the empty dance floor, stopping behind the bar to open the till and make sure there was no money sitting around. He seemed satisfied when he closed it with a definitive click.
He motioned for Lucifer to follow him and the two men went through the back door. Lucifer couldn't help but smile as the music got louder—it wasn't music to dance to, it was definitely music to fuck to. He wondered if Maze and Pam were involving that baby vampire as well—Tara was her name. More importantly—would they let Eric and Lucifer join? Eric's second in command, well . . . she had intrigued him the few times they'd met.
He was fairly confident she wasn't strictly into women. He got the feeling that men had certainly tired her in the past century or so, but none of the men she'd ever been with had been the devil. And it wasn't like he was interested in wooing her every night, or just her, for that matter. A romp between himself, Eric, Pam and Maze—and perhaps Tara as well—was what he was really after. And what better place to do it than in Eric's dungeon?
He'd only been down there on one occasion, but he knew what was down there. Not just implements of torture, but implements of a torturously good time as well. The wheel that was built into the high ceiling was good for keeping captives, but Lucifer knew plenty of ways to enjoy a captive audience.
There was a jaunt in his step as he followed Eric down the hall, but disappointment filled him when the vampire went into his office instead of heading down into the belly of Fangtasia. Was the Viking planning on balancing the books here too? Didn't he have enough of numbers already, pulling Lucifer's receipts from the trash and making sure the detective agency was going to stay afloat?
Lucifer closed the office door behind him while he watched his favourite vampire look over the room in which he used to run Fangtasia. Ever since Lucifer had asked Eric to move in with him, the running of the business had been handed over to Pamela Swynford du Beaufort, with Maze as her own second in command—or perhaps it was more equal footing than that. He knew both women were doing well, according to the updates he sometimes received from Maze. It seemed that giving them freedom and a bar to play with had done wonders for both women.
And yet here was Eric, opening the laptop, checking the filing cabinet. Being a nosy business owner that didn't trust his managers. Although, Lucifer did wonder if perhaps it was more of a vampire trait—that Eric couldn't stop himself from wanting to look at the numbers. Lucifer was pretty sure he'd read at least one myth that involved vampires being obsessive compulsive to the point of needing to count things. Yes, yes Lucifer was certain—he'd also watched an episode of the X-Files that involved a broken bag of sunflower seeds and a certain FBI agent escaping from an annoyed vamp. It was a good show, although nothing compared to Bones.
Lucifer leaned against the door, watching his lover explore his own office. "What do you see, Viking?" he asked.
"They've done a good job," Eric said, currently seated at his computer looking over the numbers. He leaned closer, narrowing his eyes at the screen. "Ladies' Night? What the fuck?"
"A brilliant idea if they're looking for willing playmates for your dungeon, I should think," Lucifer said, liking the idea.
Eric grunted in agreement, but then leaned back in his chair. "The first few weeks appear successful, too. They're making a killing on those nights."
Lucifer smiled. "Lure the women to the bar to flirt with them, and then charge extra for the men who show up not knowing they stand no chance."
"You're not wrong," Eric said. "I think they are charging the men extra."
"And the men will come, regardless of whether the women will give them a shot," Lucifer said. "Silly, desperate men."
Lucifer looked up, blue eyes finding Lucifer's. "A man who only looks for sex with the opposite sex is easy prey when it comes to making profits," he said.
"And men who aren't quite so rigid in their tastes?" Lucifer asked, willing the vampire out of his seat.
"I'd rather get in their pants than their wallet," Eric said, the icy blue gaze heating up.
"I'm afraid you've already been in my pants, Viking."
"Not tonight, I haven't," Eric replied, closing the laptop with a snap and standing from his chair. A second later, with vampire quickness, he stood before Lucifer, fangs out and hands gripping the devil's hips. Cold lips touched Lucifer's throat and he tilted his head back to give Eric better access. But rather than feel the pinch of fangs against skin, a cool tongue reached out to trace a line up his throat to his jaw. A moment later, the vampire had taken possession of Lucifer's mouth, lips crushing his own, tongue snaking out and dominating him.
A low growl turned into a purr as Eric pulled passion from the devil, and when he finally let Lucifer come up for air, Lucifer was surprised to see how much heat was actually in his eyes.
"I need this," Eric said, his voice low. "I need to stop thinking and focus on . . ." He moved in again, his kisses an icy fire to soothe Lucifer's stressful night. "The devil."
That was right. Eric wanted him, not the waitress. It would do him well to remember that.
But just the thought of the waitress inspired more worry. There was this edge to Eric's advances, and wouldn't there be, after wandering through the house of the woman he used to love? Was Eric actually doing this, not for real desire, but to try to erase the thoughts he'd probably had while they were there looking for her? When they'd been in that hidey-hole beneath the house, red quilt underneath the vampire's fingertips.
Eric froze and a moment later, rather than returning to kissing Lucifer, he ground his hips into the other man. It was impossible to not feel the hardon pressing against him. "Stop worrying, Luci," Eric said. "I'm not going to fucking run off with her, okay?"
Lucifer tried to lean back, but he was already against the door. His head thunked against it as he gave Eric an awkward smile. "I don't think I like it when you do that."
"Do what?" Eric asked. Lucifer loved that he hadn't given him space though. Hips against hips, it was easier to believe the vampire love him and only him.
"When you read my thoughts," Lucifer admitted.
Eric gave a dry bark of laughter. "That is not my specialty." Clearly not; that was what the waitress did.
There came a growl from Eric, the vampire clearly knowing Lucifer's train of thought. "I'm not reading your mind," Eric said. "I can feel the doubt you have. Stop doubting me."
"I'm not doubting your love for me," Lucifer defended himself. No, it wasn't that. Not . . . quite. More that he was doubting whether he was better matched for Eric than this Sookie Stackhouse. It seemed everyone was fascinated with her; clearly she was special. No one was ever fascinated with Lucifer, except when they were partying together. And the party always eventually ended . . .
But speaking of parties. What a perfect topic for deflection. "Why ravish me in here when we can go check on Fangtasia's management?" Lucifer asked, forcing his voice to sound bright. "Whatever they're doing downstairs, I'm sure they'd let us join."
Eric finally gave the devil some space, a devilish light in his eyes. Yes, it seemed Eric was also down with the idea of having some fun with the girls. "Judging by the paperwork, tonight was Ladies' Night. It would be interesting to see what that results in. And what we can do with it." Eric gave Lucifer a grin, flashing his fangs to look like sex wrapped in a leather jacket.
It would do well for Lucifer to stop worrying.
The vampire was his, and he belonged to the vampire. Eric had told him to stop worrying multiple times now. Why would he lie?
There was a billboard, after all.
Lucifer pulled away from the door, opening it to usher Eric out of the office so they could traipse down the hall and down into the dungeon. The music was loud when they opened the metal door that led into what was normally a dark and dank place. It was good music too, not the sort of drivel you normally played during a Ladies' Night at a regular bar. But this was Fangtasia, a bar that catered to vampires and vampire wannabes. It wouldn't do to play regular club music here. Nothing but angst and anger and fucking here.
Eric led the way down the stairs, but both men stopped and grinned at each other when they heard Maze cry out. "Harder, bitch. You gotta do it harder."
Lucifer's hands fell on Eric's shoulders, as he followed him down the winding steps, encouraging the vampire to move faster in front of him. What had to be harder? Lucifer desperately wanted to know.
He was grinning ear to ear as the dungeon came into sight. But rather than finding his favourite demon in the throws of passion, he found her holding tight to a column as Pam . . . tied the lace of some particularly torturous looking stays, the boning of the undergarment incredibly narrow.
Maze was gripping the stone ceiling support while Pam pulled with vampiric strength to tighten it to extreme lengths—something the vampire herself seemed very much into, judging by the almost impossibly narrow waist and incredible bust the blonde sported. It seemed Pam was introducing Maze to all kinds of new fashion. Lucifer could see why Maze would be into it though. She did love a good torture, and squeezing your body into new shapes for beauty would no doubt appeal to her.
It wasn't exactly what Lucifer had expected, considering the angsty music playing down here, but he wasn't appalled at the idea either. And besides . . .
"Who does a devil have to bribe to get in on this action?" he asked, nearly pushing Eric out of his way in his haste to see what other feminine goodies were lying around.
Neither Pam nor Maze had been expecting his voice rising above the metallic guitars of Sister, and both of them reacted in surprise. Pam's surprise included yanking involuntarily hard on the lacings, and the crack that resulted told Lucifer she had managed to snap the boning in the stays.
He watched with glee as Maze staggered, no doubt not expecting that much force from the vampire, but a second later she stood up straight and whirled around to face her boss. "You!" she cried out. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Come to check on Ladies' Night," Lucifer said, feeling inspired. "To enjoy the ladies, of course."
"Well that's a load of bullshit if I ever heard one," Pam drawled, ever the sarcastic bitch. She looked between the two men, arms folded just below her bust. Her surprise had lasted just enough time to break the boning of the stays, but now she was back to her usual annoyed self, it seemed. "To what do we owe the pleasure of this unexpected visit?"
"Can't a vampire wish to see his progeny because he misses her?" Eric asked, a mischievous smile crossing his face.
Pam snorted and rolled her eyes. "Again. Bullshit."
Eric lost his smile and he grew moody. "Sookie has gone missing. Other halflings, too."
Pam dropped her arms and scowled at her maker. "Of course it involves that fucking waitress. Why did I even bother asking?"
"Sookie's gone?"
Lucifer turned, surprised he hadn't noticed Tara when he first arrived in the basement. But there she was, dressed in leathers that no doubt had come from Maze. She was standing in an alcove, surrounded by clothes. All sorts of clothes. Costumes, Lucifer wondered? Or simply Pam's wardrobe? Among the rolling racks of clothes, there were a few new cupboards. He wondered what filled them.
Eric cocked his head to the side, looking at Pam. "You know Sookie is missing. You're the one who told the shifter where to find me."
"Wait. You knew Sookie was missing and didn't tell me?" Tara asked, suddenly looking pissed.
Another eyeroll from Pam. "I didn't think it pertinent."
"Of course you wouldn't," Tara griped. "My best friend is fucking missing and you don't think it's pertinent."
Pam turned on her progeny. "You're pissed at Sookie, remember? So who cares if she's fucking missing?"
Tara sneered at her maker and for a moment, it seemed like she intended on storming out of the dungeon. But Pam cocked a hip and raised an eyebrow. "I dare you," she said. "The sun's going to rise soon and where the fuck will you be when it does?"
Tara's sneer deepened but she didn't move.
"That's what I thought," Pam simpered before turning her attention back to Eric. "Please tell me you didn't return just so you can moon over the vapid little halfling again?"
"We came to search for clues," Lucifer said, affronted on behalf of his lover. "She's not the only halfling gone missing, and since we are a supernatural detective agency, it's our duty to look into the matter." He tugged on his suit jacket, trying to look disappointed with the conversation. "However, we came here to Fangtasia to see if we could impose on your Ladies' Night."
"Of course you would," Maze said, coming forward to lay a hand against Pam's arm. Dark next to light, the two made a beautiful pair. Day and night. Sun and moon. Beautiful, immortal women. He knew Tara was sharing in that too, but it was pretty clear she was an underling. A shadow to them both perhaps, in business and in pleasure.
Yes, Lucifer would happily partake in an evening—well, a morning at this rate—of fun with these two. Tara, as well. Assuming Eric was game. And he was pretty sure he was game.
"Is there a problem with that?" Eric asked. Nearly purred, actually. It seems he was down for a few hours of pleasure before he succumbed to the day. The vampire turned his attention to Maze. "It seems, if given the right situation, the devil is willing to share. And I've definitely wondered what it would be like to include a third—or fourth or fifth—immortal to our bedroom play."
"We call it Ladies' Night for a reason," Pam berated Eric. "Men are not invited."
"But do we count?" Lucifer asked, grinning wide.
It was clear Pam wanted to say no, but Maze got an inquisitive look on her face. "No, I suppose you two don't," she said, moving away from Pam, making a beeline directly to Eric. "Lucifer is willing to let me play with you?" she asked Eric directly.
"Only if you understand I'm sharing, not giving away," Lucifer said, feeling a constriction around his heart. Maze had looked at Eric with too much interest once before, and she needed to know the vampire was his, and not a play thing he'd grow bored of. This one, this particular vampire—he was special where no one else was.
Lucifer would happily share the fun he had with Eric, but he wasn't going to lose him. Not to Maze, not to Sookie, not to anyone.
Eric's grin at Maze suddenly widened, his fangs extending. "Your boss is feeling a bit territorial, I think."
"Do you like that?"
Eric's gaze lifted from Maze to land on Lucifer. "No one's ever owned me before," he said.
But Maze was still looking up at him, lust in her eyes. "That's not what I asked, Viking. I asked . . . do you like being dominated?" Her tone was demanding, and Lucifer could see her hand twitching toward . . .
He scanned the far reaches of the dungeon and spied whips upon the wall. Yes, yes she would enjoy using that.
"I'd like to see you try," Eric said to the demon. "Very much."
The lust in her eyes turned cruel—in a good way. "You're on," she said, accepting the challenge.
Lucifer was already loosening his tie, his heart pounding in anticipation of what was to come. He and Eric had already explored orgies in the last few weeks, but never with other immortals. Not having to hold back for fear of hurting someone. Knowing the pain would be welcome.
This. This was going to make it worth the trip to Bon Temps.
Most definitely.
He was the first to move, crossing the dungeon to grab one of the whips from the wall. He turned back, surveying the vampires and demon respectively.
"Who gets to go first?"