Chapter 5
My quick exit from the stage caused a chorus of disappointment from my audience and probably a missed opportunity for more cash. Cash I didn’t need even half as bad as I wanted to get the hell out of Lucious and go on my murder date.
“Satan help me,” I murmured, rubbing at the lingering spots the stage lights left behind while attempting to navigate through the back halls to the dressing room.
Frost tickled my ear. “Help you with what, dearest Dany? Out of your dress? Perhaps into my bed?” A deep, sinister laugh rumbled into the ether and threatened to take every ounce of my sanity with it.
“Fuck off,” I groaned under my breath and shook away the shiver his chill left behind. One day. One fucking day he wouldn’t have that effect on me.
I shoved through the dressing room door and was pleased to find that it was mostly empty, all except for Nova. She hummed a tune I couldn’t place, her eyes focused on the glitter she patted onto the bridge of her nose.
“I’m headed out,” I announced while ditching the last few scraps of my performance outfit: nipple stars and a thong. “The lights are fucking with my eyes, and it’s making my head hurt. Plus, the crowd was thinning out anyway.”
Nova didn’t address me. Fuck, I don’t know if she even heard me. She just kept humming.
Oh well.
My preferred post performance clothes, consisting of buttery-soft leggings, one of many band tees I owned, and an oversized hoodie, were folded and ready on my vanity. If comfort could induce an orgasm, I would have had one while dressing.
“Nice set, Ivy.” Caramel brushed a glittered hand across my back.
“Thanks, Carm.” I smiled, hoping it looked ‘fresh cookies out of the oven’ warm and not too ‘killing boys makes my dick hard’ eager.
It was hard though when I could practically feel a blood-slicked knife in my palm encouraging me to keep stabbing.
The bloodlust was nothing new. In fact, it only grew stronger with each passing year.
For the first five years, I only killed on my Death Day, incapable of stomaching any more death on my hands.
As the years went on, though, I killed because I wanted to.
My focus this year was a little different, however.
The red band on my wrist was a constant reminder that I was running out of time to keep my bargain with Lucifer.
Three years.
That’s all that stood between me and eternal freedom. That and one shit-stain of a man who, coincidentally, kind of looked like the douchebag I was going to introduce to my knife tonight.
The thought of his death, of ridding him from this world, should fill me with relief, but it doesn’t. There’s a hollowness there. One that if I looked too closely, I was afraid I’d fall into its darkness and spend the next thirty years clawing my way out of it again.
Cold nipped at my neck. “You don’t have another thirty years, Dany. Unless you want me to own you. I must admit, I wouldn’t be opposed.”
“Get out of my fucking head!” I shouted outloud. Which was a mistake because…
“Ivy?” Caramel’s warm hand landed on my shoulder where I was still bent and fighting to pull my leggings over sweaty legs. “Are you okay?”
“Oh for sure.” I laughed it off. “I heard the most shitty boy band song on the walk here and I cannot get it out of my head to save my fucking life. But hey! Speaking of me walking here...” I straightened and, perhaps a touch too manic, wiped a bunch of fake shit off my shirt and continued to laugh like a maniac.
Would you do me a favor? Cover the rest of my shift?
You can keep all of my money from the set. ”
Her eyes widened, “You must have made hundreds out there tonight, Ives.”
“Always do,” I winked and threw my cross-body bag over my shoulder.
It held exactly three pieces of Bubble Yum and one knife ready for its new home inside someone’s abdomen.
Adrenaline was fast pumping through my veins, and if I did’t get the fuck of there soon I was going to start swinging.
“Seriously, this guy was eye fucking me on the stage and I want to see if he can do the same with his dick.”
“Ivy!” Pink flushed her cheeks and her eyes looked in every direction except mine.
“So,” I prompted, shoving my phone in my pocket and edging around her toward the door. “Is that a yes?”
Please our Lord and Savior Lucifer Christ say yes.
“Yes!”
“You’re the best! I owe you Carm!” I kissed her on the cheek, ruffling her bouncy curls before hurrying out of the employee area toward the main club floor.
I pulled my jacket hood up, navigating around the darkened edges so that Vinny wouldn’t spot me on my way to catch Tall, Blonde, and Evil’s attention.
When his table came into view, I slowed my pace and scowled.
Empty.
Where the fuck did he—
“Nice show.” I jumped and turned to find Mr. Psycho himself leaning against the wall.
“I’m Axton.” The intimate lighting reflected in the gel holding back his blonde hair.
Not a single strand was out of place, and that same attention to detail was evident in the pristine condition of his clothes.
No stains, wrinkles, tears, pulled threads…
The man’s appearance was immaculate, from the shine of his bleached teeth to the shine of the shoes on his feet.
He chuckled at my startled reaction. It was a polite laugh, but almost too polite. Like he’d spent years practicing how to smile without ever feeling joy.
“Axton.” I let the tension in my shoulders loosen and covered my excitement with a relieved sigh. “I’m Ivy.”
Axton took a long, hard glance down my body. I was simultaneously disgusted by his greasy appreciation and excited for when I got to rip his eyes from their sockets.
“Tell me, Poison Ivy. Are you looking for a good time, or a long time?”
“I hope you’re not looking for a wife in a strip club, Axton,” I smirked. He laughed, but it lacked amusement. Okay, so not a very good sociopath. “I’m looking for fun, but I’m a very busy lady. I’d prefer to be in my bed with snacks before, let’s say, two AM. ”
“I’ll have you home before midnight, Cinderella.”
Axton pushed off of the wall and walked toward the exit, never stopping to check whether or not I was following.
Cocky bastard, I thought.
The falling glitter from the stage hadn't even settled on my skin before I was walking into the crispy night air. We cut into the back alley; Often used by patrons to hide their quick, dirty secrets. No lights, no cameras, and no easy exits.
Perfect for creeps to lure and trap unwilling participants.
Even better for those who had a bargain with the Devil to keep.
Axton slowed once the shadows covered us and held out his arm. I wrapped my hand around it and let him pull me in tight, knowing damn well I’d just let him shut the door on the cage he’d put me in.
“Should I call you Poison? Ivy? Miss Poison Ivy?”
You can call me Murder Mommy, I thought.
Instead of saying that outloud, though, I stuck to something less suspicious and more ‘I pretend to bite but I’m doe-eyed and helpless’. ”Ha! Ivy is fine. Call me Poison and I’ll leave you dead in this alley.”
Oh the fucking irony.
I poked him in the chest with a coy smile, and the one he gave me in return said he liked his women weak and feisty.
Bloodlust became a tangible thing. It dampened my palms, dried my lips, and made it feel impossible to restrain the burning desire to bathe in this man’s dying breaths.
The back wall was approaching and the closer it got, the harder my heart pounded.
“Well then, Ivy,” he said. “I have a question for you.”
Don’t ask me shit, just try to kill me so I can rip off your sack, nail it to the wall, and hand over your soul to our Father who art in Hell.
“And what’s that?” I answered sweetly.
The sound of our footsteps was still muffled by the fading beats of Lucious.
We turned the corner, and that’s when electricity hummed in my ear, sending bursts of static rippling across my skin and an eager moan lingering in my throat.
We were being watched, and I was a total whore for murderous exhibitionism.
My demon side searched the alley like a fine red mist for what I knew was lurking in the dark. What I didn’t know was how many.
My demon side hunted the obvious in the dark—fluttering carotids, the ammoniac smell of excitement, and whispers too eager to stay silent enough to hide as they waited for their alpha’s signal to pounce. Disgust, clean and cold, rinsed through me.
If I were mortal, this is where I’d die.
“What’s your question?” I licked my bottom lip, never breaking eye contact before I bit into supple flesh and tilted my chin up devilishly. Axton broke our eye contact to watch, and the flush that bloomed on his cheeks made my pulse quicken.
It was going to look so fucking good painting the alley walls.
“How would you like a little company?”
Shadows peeled off the surrounding brick. They pressed in slowly, their blurred edges forming into a collection of gangly limbs and rigid muscle that was ready to pounce.
“Other than you?” I asked innocently.
He didn’t give a shit. It was all part an illusion allowing me to retain a semblance of control over the situation so that I wouldn’t run or scream. I’m sure it worked all of the time.
“Other than myself,” he confirmed.
“I’d say…” I stretched the words out, wrapping one arm around his shoulders and running a finger down his chest with the other. When I looked up at him, I bit my lip and whispered, “The more the merrier.”
Axton captured my lips and pushed until my naked back pressed against the rough masonry. I kissed him back vigorously, making all of the little moans and whimpers a man like him would expect. He probably believed a woman should come just because he’d blessed her with his touch.
Admittedly, they weren’t all fake. I bit his lip hard enough to draw a bead of blood and licked it without compunction.