6. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Zelyah
I have to feed tonight, which means I have to escape his clutches and go on a hunt to find someone to kill. That’s what was repeating in my head the whole time at dinner, and the moment he finished eating, and his office door closed, I set to work.
I’ve spent days wandering around the agent’s home, learning his routine and casually counting cameras and tracing down the system’s control panel. Disabling the agent’s home security system will be easy. I head to the garage and grab a small screwdriver, a pair of wire cutters, and a roll of electrical tape. Who knew Mr. Sourpatch had a workbench? I wouldn’t have thought him to be the handy type.
The main control box is in the basement next to a large master screen displaying the view from each camera. I’ve spent many days watching the footage flip between cameras on a timed round. I make my way downstairs, moving silently through the house, careful to avoid any creaky floorboards. If Agent Cooper were to open his security footage from his office to check on me, he’d see me creeping to the basement with wire cutters, and my night would be over. That means I have to work fast.
With the control panel in front of me, I carefully remove the box cover. A tangle of wires greets me, but I’m not deterred. I cut the power supply wire and quickly splice in a looped wire to create a short circuit. The cameras are now displaying a frozen image, making it look like everything is normal. I head back upstairs, pausing to listen for any signs of the agent stirring. The house remains silent, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I slip out of the house undetected.
The neighborhood is quiet as I walk through the dark streets, looking for any type of nightlife. Figures he lives somewhere where it isn’t fun. He might be handsome, but he’s boring as shit. His life consists of being an asshole and work. That’s it.
An old liquor store sits on the corner just a few blocks ahead of me with a neon open sign flickering above the door. Judging by the bars over the windows and the trash blowing around the empty parking lot, this looks like the perfect place to pick up a scum bag to feed on.
Moving along the shadows toward the front of the building, I set my sights on a black sports car pulling up. After killing the engine, two women step out of the car to go inside. I approach them with a smile, only to find that they’re supernaturals. Shit, I’m already out in the open. I don’t care if I kill supernaturals or humans, but since I don’t have access to my secret warehouse, a human would be easier to murder than someone who has powers.
Their movements are too graceful for typical humans, a predatory smoothness hinting at their true nature. A faint smoky scent reaches my nose. They’re Dragon Shifters. I extend my power toward them, probing gently. Their auras shimmer dimly to my inner eye. I discreetly poke through their powers, hoping they won’t notice. Luckily for me, their power is weak. I add a small amount of glamour to myself so that I appear simple, non-threatening, and as harmless as a dove.
“Is there a party going on tonight?” I ask with a friendly grin.
They’re startled at first, but when they look up at me, their eyes glaze over, and their bodies relax.
“We’re going to the club,” the blonde says. “I’m Trisha, by the way, and this is Sandy.” She points to her smaller friend. “We’re picking up some friends before we get to The Velvet Room.”
Yeah, that’s not going to work. I need to feed as soon as possible.
“Let’s just head over there right now.” I push some more glamour, swaying their response to listen to me, but I can already feel my grasp slipping. It’s probably why they hesitate for a second, but before I lose them completely, I speak again. “I need you to take me to The Velvet Room now.”
“Sure,” Trisha responds, walking to the driver’s side of her car while Sandy gets in on the passenger side. I open the door and get in the back seat, waiting for Trisha to finally get going. It seems like I’m losing her again, so I use more of my power, and she starts the car without any further hesitation.
She drives for three miles, and I take note that maybe the drive from Agent Cooper’s house isn’t that far after all. I need to figure out a way to get a phone so I can use the navigation. We pull up to a crowded street lined with bars and clubs, and people stumble down the sidewalk laughing, being loud, and having the time of their lives. Trisha slows down and pulls into a parking spot. Once she shuts off the car and pulls the key out of the ignition, we get out. I swing the door open so hard they both turn around to look at me.
I shrug. “I just want to dance.”
They look at each other and laugh like that’s perfectly normal, and maybe it is. I can’t really read their expressions. I’ve never had any girlfriends before. Nick was the only friend I had, but I really fucked that one up. I push those thoughts aside because I don’t have the time to break down and cry.
I’m highly underdressed, so I glamour on a simple black party dress.
“You look hot,” Sandy says, admiring the short dress, not noticing that I just changed from the pants and shirt I was wearing earlier.
There’s a lot of loud music bleeding through the open doorways of different clubs. I peek inside some of the dimly lit bars as we pass, watching the people drink and dance. The Velvet Lounge is written in pretty pink cursive, and I’m surprised by how long the line is to get in.
“Let’s go,” I tell Sandy and Trisha.
We bypass the line and walk straight to the front, and the bouncer looks down at us expectantly. They pull out their IDs, and he looks like he’s about to send us to the back of the mile-long line, but I smile seductively and whisper in a sultry voice, “We’re on the list, just let us in.”
His eyes glaze over, and he nods his head. He’s human, so I don’t have to use too much power to sway him.
I look around the club as we step past the entrance and into the flashing lights. The latest hit song blasts through the speakers. Women dance close to their partners, moving to the rhythm of the beat, and my hips move almost involuntarily.
Sandy and Trisha walk straight for the bar, their steps synchronized in the pulsating rhythm of the club. I trail behind them, weaving through the crowd. My senses are heightened, and the thumping bass of the music vibrates through me.
As we reach the bar, Sandy seems blissfully unaware of anything but the night’s potential, and her laughter mingles with the music. She’s under my glamour, and it shows in her carefree demeanor. Trisha, on the other hand, carries a different air about her. She orders a drink, her eyes casually scanning the crowd, but they linger on me just a moment too long. There’s a slight narrowing of her gaze and a flicker of something unreadable before she masks it with a nonchalant smile.
I can’t help but feel a tingle of unease. Did I successfully glamour Trisha like I did Sandy? Her actions suggest compliance, but her sharp and probing eyes tell a different story. She laughs at something Sandy says, yet the sound doesn’t quite reach her eyes. It’s as if she’s playing her part in a script she’s not fully committed to.
“Want a drink?” A guy says from right behind me. He’s cute, maybe in his thirties, has dark brown hair, light brown eyes, and is definitely human. I nod my head, and he takes it as an invitation to step into my personal space. I look around, but Trisha and Sandy are both gone.
“What can I buy you?” the man asks.
I turn my attention back to him. “Cranberry vodka.”
He smiles and pulls out his card, handing it to the bartender. It’s in my nature to be flirty, to want to get close to him and pull him in to eventually feed, but I know how dangerous this is. I’ve only ever intentionally fed on the men who deserve such a fate, but my need to feed quickly and get back to Agent Cooper’s place before he notices I’m gone makes me feel desperate.
He hands me the glass, and I take a drink from the tiny, red straw. “You want to dance?”
“Yeah.” His eyes light up as I place my alcohol down and grab his hand. “My name is Chase by the way.”
I don’t bother giving him mine. I’m here on a mission. Before he can ask me for my name, I drag him to the middle of the dance floor. As I move to the beat of the music, his eyes trail over me, and I can feel his desire pulsing through me like my own heartbeat. I bring my hands up in the air, and he tentatively grabs my hips.
I’m in too deep with this, and before I know it, I nearly feed on his lust. Memories of Nick come crashing down like a ton of bricks. Waves of sorrow, regret, and despair overtake my senses. I can feel the tightness in my chest, and my hands tremble as I try to forget. Thoughts of shame, guilt, and self-loathing course through me as the tears blur my vision and bile rises in my throat. I desperately want to find a way out, to scream or claw my skin off, to do anything to escape the unbearable pain that is tearing apart my soul. But no matter how much I wish for it, I know there’s no way to go back. The damage has been done.
When I try to feed on someone’s lust, I drain them of life. It’s not supposed to be like this, but killing someone is the only way I can manage to keep myself alive. I don’t want to be a murderer, but I decided long ago that when I have to feed, I would hunt down the people who deserve to die. So as much as I want to have sex or feed off lust like others of my kind, I can’t. That would mean putting someone at risk who doesn’t deserve it. Someone like Nick. So, I need to choose my kills carefully.
“I’ve got to go.” I stumble backward, nearly falling in the middle of the dance floor.
I need to feed now.
“But wait.” His brows scrunch, confused by my sudden outburst. “Can I at least get your number?”
“I don’t own a phone.” That’s the last thing I say to him before I disappear into the crowd to find a dark corner of the club. If I’m going to find someone who is up to no good, they’re not going to be in the center of the dance floor.
I look down at my trembling hands. Shit, I can’t believe this is the second time I’ve lost control. Thankfully, I didn’t start to feed because if I had, I wouldn’t have been able to stop, and I would’ve killed him. The thought frightens me. It would’ve been out in the open. Anyone in the club could have seen. My body craves touch, and it’s understandable, I’m a Succubus, after all. In the days leading up to my twenty-fifth birthday, all I wanted to do was feed on lust and have sex, that’s why I tried it with my boyfriend. I need to learn how to control that part of me or else everyone I come in contact with will eventually die.
As I slip to the farthest corner of the back bar, a group of guys catch my eye immediately. They are dressed like your average frat boys, but they seem too nervous and shifty to be here for the cheap beer.
I stalk toward the group of three guys talking among themselves behind a pretty brunette leaning over the bar. She’s wasted and reaching for the tray of olives the bartender has for garnish. If she came with friends, they are nowhere to be found. I watch through narrowed eyes as one of the men reaches underneath her plaid skirt and touches her ass, giving it a squeeze. She brushes his hand off and nearly topples over. Disgust and rage heat my blood as I work my way through the crowd, getting closer so I can eavesdrop on their conversation.
They’ve stepped back a few feet from the wasted brunette, and the one with the wandering hands digs something out of his pocket and covertly hands it off to a lanky guy with brown hair.
“Make sure you give her the whole tablet, don’t screw it up like last time, Brad,” the handsy guy whispers harshly.
The third guy, a tall, intimidating man with a neck tattoo, leans close to her, murmuring what seems to be sweet nothings. She giggles, swaying dangerously. Seizing the moment, the lanky brown-haired man discreetly drops a white tablet into her drink and signals to his friends that it’s done.
Mr. Neck Tattoo gives a cruel smile in return, retrieves the spiked alcohol, and places the drink in her unsteady hand.
I stride over, quick as a flash, and plant myself squarely in front of the men. On the outside, it looks like a catty move, but I’m shielding the brunette’s body with mine, careful not to knock her off balance. Keeping up appearances, I flash the men a seductive smirk.
“Hey, boys.” I grab the girl’s cup and pretend I’m drinking. They watch with open mouths and a predatory glint in their eyes. These idiots think I just drank the drugged booze. Little do they know that between them and me, I’m the real threat. “I just broke up with my boyfriend, and I’m so lonely. I want a guy to keep me company.” I look each man in the eye and bite my lip, making sure to keep my voice sweet. “Or maybe it’d be even nicer for a couple of guys to take my mind off him. Can you guys help me with that?”
The handsy guy lets go of the wobbly brunette and grabs me, wrapping his arm around my waist like he owns me. I have the overwhelming urge to punch him in the throat, but I remind myself to have patience. “Of course we can help you with that. I’m Mitch, and this is Brad.” He nods at his lanky friend on my other side. “And that big guy over there is Ted.” He motions to the guy with a neck tattoo whose predatory stare makes my skin crawl.
Ted gets closer to me and picks up a lock of my copper hair, running it through his fingers without a word I want to snatch my strands back from his filthy hands, but instead, I stand there, letting them believe they have me where they want me.
The other woman is leaning against the bar for support, and she doesn’t realize the men are no longer surrounding her.
“We’ll make you forget everything about him,” Mitch says, bringing my attention back to him.
My blood roars in my ears, but not because I’m scared, it’s because I have them right where I want them, and this game excites me too much. I am a killer, there’s no denying that. Even if by some miracle I do find a way to feed without killing, I wouldn’t let this go. I’d miss the game and the blood too much.
“I’ll meet you guys on the dance floor.” I turn around and wink at Mitch, who’s still holding me in a possessive grip, hoping he’ll get the hint and let me go. “I just want to finish my drink.”
“You do that,” he says and reluctantly lets go.
When they’re a few feet away from me, I turn around and tilt my head back, pretending that I just swallowed the drink.
I signal the bartender with my hand, and she comes over. “What can I do for you?”
“Throw this drink out. It’s been tampered with, and call a cab for her.” I point at the brunette who’s still struggling to stand straight.
“Tampered with? By who?” the bartender asks, already scanning through the people that are in close proximity. “We need to kick them out.”
“They’ve already left.” I can’t have them trying to arrest my meal now, can I?
“Okay, thanks. If he shows up again, let me know immediately.” She picks up the phone and dials a number.
“Of course.” I walk away from the bar and try to look for Sandy and Trisha, the girls I met earlier. I can’t leave the brunette by herself. She doesn’t know what’s going on.
I already feel my horns trying to push through my hair. I can’t hold my glamour for much longer. Sometimes I wish I could get the infused tattoo and not have to worry about having to feed to keep me from showing my demon form, but the Arcana keeps track of who gets it.
I’ve searched everywhere but the bathroom for Sandy and Trisha, so making sure to avoid the men waiting for me, I make my way to the ladies’ room.
This is my last resort to find them. I grab the handle, noticing that my fingers have elongated. I pull it open quickly, walk in, and stand there watching people come in and out of stalls, but it’s never the girls I’m looking for. They’re probably already long gone.
I make my way over to leave when I hear two girls talking. “Sasha was hanging out with a couple of guys, and that’s the last time I saw her.”
One of the girls looks worried sick. I approach them, hoping they’re the break I’ve been waiting for. “Was your friend Sasha wearing a red plaid skirt and a black tank?”
“Yeah . . .” They look startled, and the one with a pixie cut is the one who speaks up. “Have you seen her?”
I sigh in relief at her hopeful tone and wide, concerned eyes. “I had the bartender call a cab for her. She’s trashed and three guys were trying to take advantage of her.”
They both gasp. “I knew those guys were up to no good. She just ignored us when we warned her.”
“Follow me. I’ll take you to her,” I tell them. I touch the top of my head. Pretty soon, people will see my horns. I just hope I can feed before then.
I watch for the men as we maneuver through the crowd. The last thing I need them to figure out is that I’m still coherent. Sasha’s slumped-over figure comes into view as we approach the same dark corner of the bar. Her friends rush past me as soon as they see her.
“Sasha, are you okay?” her friend asks, but Sasha doesn’t respond. “Let’s take you home now,” her friend says gently.
The girls get on each side of Sasha and pick her up, and I’m finally able to relax now that she’s safe and going home. I make my way to the guys waiting for me next to the pool tables along the less crowded side of the club. They are talking among themselves and laughing. They’ve got no clue what’s about to happen, and it thrills me to rid the world of men like this.
I walk over to them quickly. “There you guys are.” I slur my words, giving them the impression that I’m drunk and got lost.
“What happened? We were getting a little worried.”
I bet you were, Brad, I bet you were. You were getting worried about not being able to rape me.
“I got lost.” I stumble back, and Ted steadies me. “Let’s dance.” They happily comply. Mitch holds me tightly again, keeping one arm around my waist. We dance to two songs, and I see them getting impatient.
“It’s hot in here, let’s go outside,” Ted whispers in my ear, and I try not to gag.
“Yeah, let’s get some fresh air,” I agree.
I stumble as I walk, and they help me walk straighter. “Sorry, I don’t remember drinking this much.”
“It’s okay, I got you babe.” Mitch holds me closer to him.
As soon as we’re out in the open, Ted guides us away from the club. “It’s probably a little quieter a few blocks down here,” he says.
I swear these guys make it too easy. They’re basically digging their own graves.
“Sounds like a great idea,” I slur.
Pressed between two of the men, I continue to stumble down the street until we’re nearing the opening of a dark alley. The club’s music sounds distant from here, and there are no more drunk people to cross paths with.
Mitch immediately kisses me, and I try to close my eyes and get lost in the sensation, pushing back the thoughts of what kind of man Mitch is and willing my stomach to settle. One of the other men grabs my pants. Pants? Shit, my glamour is fading. They don’t seem to notice. My wings splay open on display, and that’s a bit harder to hide. The three men step back with open mouths. I only kill one creep a week to feed, but it looks like I have three to kill at once tonight. I’ve never done three kills and feeds on the same day.
“Wh—What the fuck are you?” Brad stutters, and my smirk turns evil.
“I’m your worst nightmare.” I grin widely before I grab my knife from my back pocket, the one I took from Agent Cooper’s house, and stab him in the stomach. Blood leaks onto the concrete. I really need to find a secluded warehouse around here. This is going to get messy, and I can’t have the human police tracking me down.
“Woah, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Ted’s voice booms, taking a few steps closer to Brad’s motionless body on the ground, keeping his eyes trained on me as he moves.
Mitch watches my expression and the bloody blade in my outstretched hand, taking small steps back in apprehension. Mitch came off like the leader of these bastards back in the club, but now he’s edging away while Ted tries to play hero.
“Mitch, he’s lost a lot of blood! Help me get him up! He needs a fucking hospital, man!” Ted demands, foolishly rushing the rest of the way to his friend’s side. His eyes widen in disbelief as Mitch turns to take off without them. My need to feed is so great that I don’t care if Mitch runs. Next time I need to feed, I’ll come looking for him.
“How many women have you taken advantage of?” I purr, stepping closer to where Ted kneels next to Brad. Even now, staring up at me with a knife dangerously close to his face, his cock twitches at the sound of my soothing and sweet voice—the total opposite of what I look like.
“Please don’t kill me.” His voice quivers as he looks back down at Brad bleeding out on the street, and I feed off of his fear.
“I’ll ask one more time.” He’s so tall that, even from his knees, I come face-to-face with him and lick his cheek. As much as he wants to flinch, he can’t. He’s aroused. “How many women have you taken advantage of?”
“Five.” He trembles as he speaks.
“Thank you.” I wink before the blade smoothly slices across his neck. The rush of feeding fills me, a warmth that chases away the chill of the night, leaving me vibrantly alive. I’ll catch Mitch next time.
The alley is cloaked in darkness, the only light a dim flicker from a nearby streetlamp. I scan the shadows, searching for any prying eyes or potential witnesses. As I move, I feel the familiar tingle of my glamour reasserting itself, smoothing the sharp edges of my horns and retracting my wings into the illusion of normalcy. My clothes morph back from the blood-stained pants to the glittering party dress, erasing any signs of the night’s earlier violence.
Time ticks by quickly, each second a risk I can’t afford to take. With a quick decision, I lift the lifeless bodies and drag them toward a nearby dumpster. The stench of decay and rot fills my nostrils as I shove them inside, an imperfect solution but one that will have to suffice. It’s not like it’ll be traced back to me. It looks like they’ve been dead for days instead of mere minutes. I wipe my hands on my clothes.
My heart pounds in my chest as I hurry back to the club, the pulsing beat beckoning me like a seductive siren’s song. People seem drawn to me as I pass by, their smiles inviting and hands reaching out as they sense the energy emanating from me. The temptation to bask in their adoration is strong, but the club—with its promise of anonymity and distraction—is my true destination.
The bouncer barely gives me a glance this time. Inside, the dance floor is alive with throbbing beats and writhing bodies. I let myself get lost in the frenzy, the high from feeding coursing through my veins like liquid fire. For a brief moment, I’m just another reveler caught up in the music and chaos, my earlier actions fading into oblivion.
My body moves to its own rhythm, completely unaware of the world outside until an overpowering voice pierces through my surroundings. I can’t comprehend the words, but I feel the authority in the man’s tone and know that he expects obedience. His steps are silent and unseen, his presence is suddenly on me before I have a chance to react, demanding my absolute submission.
Agent Cooper grabs my waist and brings me close to his chest. His touch doesn’t make me sick like Mitch’s touch. He’s strong, there’s no doubt about that. I notice our bodies fit together perfectly despite our height difference. He caresses my thighs before he rubs his nose against the sensitive skin of my neck, sending delicious shivers down to my lady parts.
Agent Cooper whispers in my ear, “There’s been another female supernatural killing.”