"Dream on, Foxy," Exstasy drolled. "My car, and you, my dear, are my toy... at
least for tonight."
He sat in the back seat taking a few deep breaths while the two vixens
prepared for their entrance into the club.
"Okay, Mulder, here's the deal. This is a very special kind of club. Not
everyone inside is Kindred and, therefore, not everyone knows you're off
limits. So for your own protection... and our amusement... while you are in the
club, you will be wearing this." Dangling from the finger of the Bruaha
Primogen, Mulder saw a collar—a leather, studded collar.
"Wait a minute! You don't expect me to... " the stunned agent began to protest.
"Hey, Ex," Eris interrupted, "it's not going to work with the turtle neck."
"Well, then I guess he'll just have to lose the shirt, won't he?" The two of
them began working in tandem until Fox Mulder was suitably shirtless and
collared. In fact, he didn't get a word in edgewise until the leash had been
clipped onto the ring in the front of his newly acquired attire.
"Almost perfect," declared the babyfaced vampire, "but something is definitely
missing. Any objections to getting your nipple pierced?" she asked with a
flippant toss of her hair and a smile on her face that hinted at the child who
had just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar.
He backed up as far as the tether around his neck would allow as Exstasy found
a comfortable perch for herself on the trunk of the convertible, and lured her
prey back against her body. She snaked her arms under his and then over the
tops of his shoulders, all the while stroking him with one part of her anatomy
or another... her hands, her body, her cheek... all were used as the tools she knew
her physical form to be. Her legs wrapped themselves around his waist pulling
him back tightly against her chest. And until the arms that wrapped around
him had turned into a vice grip, Mulder was quite enjoying the attention being
lavished on him—but at this point in time, he was more worried about the
vampire hovering in front of him.
"Come on, guys... can't we talk about this?" Mulder begged as he struggled
against the strength holding him down.
"Now, Foxlet... the more you fight the less, ummm, tidy the hole will be." The
sight of Fox Mulder squirming in delicious dismay was enough to put the humor
in Ecstasy's voice. She wouldn't really allow Eris to put one of her fangs,
which was at the moment looming just a breathe away from his chest, through
the mortal's nipple—the Baroness would be pissed—but it was fun to torture
him a bit. "All right, Eris, let him off the hook."
A wave of relief washed over the agent's face and he began to relax back into
the embrace of the Kindred sitting behind him. "Just as long as we're clear
about one thing," Ex purred into his ear. He felt the cold slither of her
tongue against the curve of his ear as it sent a shiver up one side of his
spine and then back down the other until it settled completely in his groin.
"Tonight you will obey me in all things. No questions. I'll protect you, but
in exchange, you are mine to do with as I see fit. Are we clear?" The
soothing caress of her words invaded his senses; he felt his resolve weaken
only a hair before he heard the words... "Ah, fuck it. Bite him, Eris."
For a brief moment, the searing hot pain that rushed through his body left him
as weak as a new born colt whose legs could not support his own weight. His
strength drained as the pleasure flooded his mind and pushed his body farther
into the touch of the mouth covering the delicate skin on his chest. The
instant the chill of her mouth was gone, the overwhelming loss of sensation
reduced any remaining coherent thought down to simple pleadings and whimpers.
Eris drew away, still savoring the taste of his life on her lips, and smiled.
She watched him eye her as her tongue licked the long fang that had just
pierced his body removing all traces of the blood left behind. She trailed
one slender, dainty finger across his cheek and down the plane of his neck,
feeling the pulse of his veins beneath the surface. "You want more, don't
you, mortal?" Her voice had become seduction, and Mulder followed its lead.
"Please... " The one and only word his mind could still fully comprehend was
followed by the sound of Exstacy in his ear once more...
"I don't need to be able to read your mind to know that you've wanted to play
these kinds of games for a long time, Fox. Your body gives you away." The
feeling of a chilled hand kneading the rope of muscle on the inside of his
thigh and inching its way up to where his life's blood was pooled was enough
to break his last remaining vestiges of self control. His back bowed in an
attempt to find the friction his cock craved. JUST TOUCH ME! his body
demanded, but demands are not to be made when you are the one owned. The next
thing he knew, Fox Mulder was on the ground at his new master's feet, and the
sudden lost of contact with the wintry body left him inexplicably colder.
"That feeling traveling through every part of your body and then settling
right in your dick has nothing whatsoever to do with what we are... it's your own
desires that are driving you now. But soon you'll see what it is to be
... dinner."
She led him by the leash through the door of the club and passed the on
lookers that gathered there. It was always an event to watch Exstacy make her
entrance and claim her club, but when she had a new pet in tow; suddenly the
event took on epic proportions. All eyes turned to follow as they paraded in.
Eris, trailing behind long enough only to pick up a toy for herself, found her
way back to her Primogen.
The club itself could be described in a single word—dark—and in its
darkness was its beauty. Rich wood tones were all around, covering the walls,
the floors, and especially the large half-moon bar that was set on a platform
against the back wall in the first of two large open areas on the first floor.
The second was unique to say the least...
Plush velvet couches, upholstered in deep shades of blues and burgundy,
surrounded what might be called a dance floor by some, but what the regulars
of the club knew as the performance arena. Intermingled with the sofas were
high backed chairs, reminiscent of thrones belonging to the king's of yore,
that were ensconced on both sides with wide, draping cascades of silk, giving
each a touch of privacy from which to enjoy the nightly show of flesh
revealed.
And revealed the flesh was. In this encapsulated oasis, clothing wasn't
optional, it was outlawed. Throngs of people, mortal and immortal alike
gathered together in smaller circles to enjoy some of the pleasures of this
world. Hot skin on cold, no one here was left untouched for long. There was
booze, there were drugs—but the pleasure of choice in this place was sex in
all its assorted forms.
Wide eyed with the spectacle before him, Mulder gazed on as the bodies
writhing against each other stilled just long enough to watch while Exstacy
took her seat in the largest of the chairs which was positioned at the center
of the make shift circle.
Meanwhile from the shadows, a brooding figure carefully watched... and waited.
He was due for his meeting, but there was always time to enjoy a Fox being
tamed. He smiled caustically as Mulder skirted a little closer and cuddled up
to Ecstasy's leg, as if seeking the security of his blanket. Ah, what
fools these mortals be...
When satisfied that all seemed well, he slipped from the club unnoticed, and
went to see about saving the world once again.
After stopping at the house for Morgan to become more suitably attired, they
were on their way.
She looked over at the man seated silently to her left. Dressed in basic
black, he looked as if he belonged in a different time and place all together.
The suit coat he was wearing was long and hung down almost to his knees in a
gently tapered curve from front to back. The white shirt beneath it was full,
but not enoungh to be ostentatious, and was buttoned to the neck where there
was seated a discrete onyx pin tie. He gazed out the window at the moving
picture show of people, and looked for all the world like a man trapped
between his needs.
Finally he turned to his guest and spoke. "I thought you might enjoy seeing
the best each of our clans has to offer. Perhaps then you can gain the
understanding you'll need to deal with our society."
Nodding her head in acceptance, she couldn't keep her hands away from the
treasure around her neck. "Do you like it?" he asked with a guileless
smile.
"It may be the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. But somehow, I get the
feeling that there is more to this bauble than you're telling me." Her face
was open—her question true. She wasn't digging for anything... just trying to
find a way to know this man who had taken her life and welfare to his heart.
"Let's just say that if there is one thing my years have taught me, it's that
things are rarely what they appear to be on the surface." Deliberately
changing the subject, "Tell me, my dear, what would you like to see first?"
"That's like asking what I want for dinner without showing me the menu, isn't
it? I wouldn't know where to begin, so little of the clans have been
explained to us." But then a thought hit her, "I guess the place to start
would be your own clan."
"I assume you thought that was subtle, Miss Scully, but all the same, it does
seem a logical place to start." Centuries come and go, but somehow the
mind of a woman remains the same. "I am of the clan Gangrle, as is
Sebastian. And though we are both followers of Dada, our faith is not shared
by everyone in our clan."
"The Baroness mentioned that there are differences between the clans that make
them unique... " she said encouraging him to explain further.
"I think it will be simpler to explain the Gangrle when we arrive at our first
stop." He faced forward once again, and met the eyes watching them in the
rearview mirror. "Edge, let's go visit the pack."
They traveled up the road that winded its way around the mountain till they
reached it's peak and pulled up to the large imposing gates that acted as a
porthole through the tall stone wall. When Edge got out and came around to
open her door, she looked to Morgan in surprise. Nodding at the iron sign
embedded into the wall that read Bear Mountain State Park Zoo, "What are we
doing here?" she asked trying to hide the twinge of fear she harbored in the
back of her mind.
"There is absolutely no need to mask your misgivings... they serve you well,"
Morgan replied with only the insinuation of a smile, and extending his hand to
her, palm down, he led her toward the gateway.
"I haven't any idea what you're talking about," she began with a slight air of
annoyance. Her face was impassive and her tone flat, "I'm not afraid of you.
"Pity... I gave you more credit than you deserved," he mocked openly, but then
turned deadly serious. "You've come to the top of a mountain, late at night,
with two beings higher up the food chain then you are... not another soul to be
found for miles and no one to hear your cries... you should be afraid, Miss
Scully."
"But, Father Morgan, you forget... I have your word on my safety," she returned
the ridicule with a light-hearted tone that held no scorn or derision.
"You've protected me without regard to your own safety in the past... why should
I think you wouldn't protect me now."
She had to some degree assessed her position accurately—but more
importantly, she had assessed him. He wouldn't allow her to come to harm and
had made that unmistakably clear. But she was still a target and had to learn
to think like one. "Though your appraisal is more or less correct, you've
still made one fatal error. Even the most tame of animals can become deadly
if presented with the right motivation." For a moment, his eyes glinted of a
wicked menace that sent a chill down the back of her neck.
She seemed to shrink into herself when she realized the disguised threat, and
she bowed her eyes toward the ground. "Your point is taken," she responded in
a thoughtful tone. But her reticence never lasted for very long. Anyone
would be hard pressed not to recognize the stubborn spirit of an Irish redhead
that this woman seemed to embody. Ice struck sparks against ice as her eyes
locked with Morgan's—challenging his very existence. She cocked her head to
one side and returned his arrogance back to him tenfold, "But even the most
violent of beasts can be put down... if the need arises." And he smiled,
suddenly realizing that the target had sprouted teeth.
Edge had already opened the gate, and as they proceeded through, he shut it
behind them. "I'll hang out here till you're ready to go, boss," and with a
leap made himself comfortable on top of the wall.
"Fine... just be careful," Morgan threw back and then turned again to his
companion. He chuckled at the startled expression on her face. "Surely
you're not still surprised by the measure of our physical strength?"
"Actually... I think I'm more surprised that it's starting to be almost normal,"
she countered.
"Come, Miss Scully," he said softly, deliberately letting go of the banter
they had begun, "there is someone I want you to meet."
He led her along the path, stopping now and again to gaze at the sleeping
residents of various cages and caves. Eventually they arrived at a large rock
formation set far back from the path and shielded by a tall fence topped with
barbed wire. Scully peered into the darkness, looking for some evidence of
life, and gasped softly when she saw a snow white ball of fur begin to move.
And from virtually every nook and cranny, little flecks of white began to make
their way toward the edge of the fence. "Will you excuse me a moment?" Morgan
asked politely.
He stepped away from her, a look of impishness adorning the time earned
wrinkles around his eyes. And when he vaulted straight up into the darkness,
she nearly snapped her neck trying to follow him disappearing against the
night sky. The silence was deafening until broken by the sound of soft pads
and claws scratching on rock. Her eyes shot back, peering inside the fence,
she came nose to nose with an immense, white, Siberian wolf.
After the little yelp of surprise, she looked more carefully at the beautiful
creature that seemed to be observing her just as intently. He cocked his head
to one side and let out an inquisitive bark, and the realization that she was
once more looking into the icy-heat of Morgan's eyes began to sink in. At the
recognition appearing across the dainty woman's features, the stunning beast's
eyes began to glow with the same feral hue of red she had seen in her champion
before in another time and place. But this time there was no reason to balk
at the sight.
He turned with a bark and a wag of his tail and walked directly into the pack
of similar animals.
She watched as the pack carefully began to gather around its newest member—inching closer and becoming reacquainted with his scent. When it seemed that
they had extended their welcome, the enormous creature came back to the edge
of the fence, and led her around to a gate.
Her eyes began playing tricks on her, or so she thought, as the beast began to
change once more back into the man inside. He opened the gate for her and
made a sweeping gesture, bowing slightly from the waist, offering her entry.
Scully stepped in cautiously; uncertain of what to make of the exhibition of
power she had just witnessed. But choosing to put it aside rather than ruin a
moment she knew she would only have once in her lifetime, she smiled at him
teasingly, "We're gonna talk about that stunt later," the challenge in her
voice giving portent of the conversation to come.
"Looking forward to it, I assure you," he replied, stepping aside to allow her
passage.
They approached the pack slowly, and when he motioned for her to take a seat
on one the rocks, she didn't question. He sat beside her as the animals
converged on them creating a breathtaking sea of white.
Mysteriously, the pack began to separate, allowing a solitary creature to come
forward... in its teeth, gripped by the nap of the neck, was one of the smallest
of the most recent litter. Laying the cub down in Scully's lap, the mother
stepped back just an inch, remaining well within a protective distance.
"You're being offered the gift of trust... your actions will show if it is
deserved." He seemed to drift as if his thoughts led him to some distant
place, "That's one of the pleasures of being among the beasts of the world—you're forced to remove the facade of civility society demands, and simply be
whatever it is you are."
Scully began to stroke the cub, scratching its belly and watching it kick and
giggle in glee. She turned to Morgan, the glistening of unshed tears in her
eyes, and reached out to him—not with her hand, but with everything that she
was. The moment would have been perfect—if her touch could have found him.
It was an alley. Dark, dirty, Sometimes it seems I'll never get to come
in from the cold , and smelling of things he had just as soon not be able to
identify—like a thousand alleys he'd been in before. Krycek leaned against
the wall waiting for the arrival of this city's information collectors.
It's amazing how little time means when you have eternity to kill he
thought to himself as he noted how late they were. But he didn't have an
eternity to save the lives of the kine that had no idea just how valuable they
were to the human race—and the race that fed on them—and time was becoming
a valuable commodity.
He was expecting at least the Nosferatu to just appear from the shadows, but
when the two of them began walking down the center of the alley—together—something jumped in his gut. He waited till the moment they were almost upon
him which, by some coincidence, was one moment too late. He fought to hold
his tongue as each of his arms, and the corresponding half of his body, were
smashed mercilessly against the wall by the Kindred on either side of him.
One, looking as if he could be the poster child for a young men's militia,
beret and all; the other could have been any ordinary man—if it weren't for
the bared fangs.
"We don't know you," the Toreador claimed. "We don't like talking to those we
don't know. So now you have exactly five seconds to give me one good reason
why we shouldn't string you up by your ankles, open your jugular, and drain
you like a keg on prom night... "
"Because if you did, you'd have to explain it to your Prince... and I don't think
he'd be real pleased to hear that you'd killed a Kindred he welcomed to his
city." When he felt the bodies against him begin to relent, he pushed himself
forward knocking them both back a step. "Now can we cut the pissing contest
crap and get down to business?"
After a moment's consideration, Krycek watched as his attackers began to
revert back from their vampiric forms.
"I'm Grendel," the Nosferatu stated in simple explanation. Gesturing to his
side, "This is Max, Primogen of the Toreador clan in the city."
Alex looked them both over, noting that not once did their eyes waver from
direct contact with his. "Max, huh? Maximillian Von Strieger... "
The smile spread across the Toreador's face, "You mean you've heard of me... I'm
flattered."
"... there's a warrant out for your arrest ya know... something about the bombing of
a government building," Alex finished. "You should probably make that go
away."
"Why would I do that, sweet childe?" the chilling smile matching the veiled
threat of his tone. "Don't concern yourself with my affairs, boy... you'd be out
of your league." Suddenly he had lost all pretense at civility.
The voice of reason, sounding an awful lot like Grendel, chimed in before the
battle of the libidos could digress any further. "I thought you said you
wanted to get down to business. What do you want from us?"
"Information... " the request was left hanging until Krycek continued. "You two,
according to my sire, can find out anything without anyone knowing it. I need
to know who hired the Giovanni to attack the female Morgan is protecting."
"Why should we help you?" Grendel asked.
"I know you know why Morgan brought the mortals here in the first place... but I
don't think he told you it was my request that alerted him to the situation.
Don't help me because I asked you to, or even because Morgan asked you... think
of it as self-preservation."
The Nosferatu considered carefully the explanation laid before him. Krycek
had a point. Even if he didn't agree with Morgan's methods, the priority now
was keeping the agents safe. With resignation in his eyes, he continued... "What
do you think the Giovanni had to do with this? Could be that it was just a
play against Morgan—politics are always an issue around here."
"The timing seems awfully convenient... the day after they arrive, she's
attacked? Even if it's not connected to whoever wants them dead... I would
assume you'd like to know who would so publicly disregard the law of your
Prince. The fact of the matter is that the Giovanni don't care unless
business dictates they care. They fundamentally had nothing to gain by this.
But if they were hired for this... "
Krycek's chain of thought was clear. Any way you looked at it, it was in
everyone's best interest to know who backed the attack on Scully.
"So you," Grendel interrupted to complete the thought, "want to know who in
Dark City has the means to buy the life of a Giovanni."
"Precisely."
The two Dark City Kindred looked at each other for a long moment. "Give us a
chance to do a little digging," Max assured. "We'll see what we can find."
"Thank you," Krycek replied with dubious gratitude. They completed their
business with the niceties that go along with an alliance forged out of
necessity, and the Brujha went on his way leaving the two to themselves in the
alley.
Grendel began thinking out loud, "He's got it figured right, ya know. This
bullshit stretches well past our boarders. How long should we wait to tell
him what he wants to know?"
The Toreador's expression was flat, "Only as long as it takes to make sure he
isn't the one who orchestrated this mess."
Alex walked cautiously back into the club and surveyed the scene quickly.
These places always seemed to have the innate ability of making a situation
escalate fast—sometimes too fast. And in the short time he had been outside
conducting business, this had proven to be the case.
When he left Mulder sitting at Exstasy's feet, he seemed to be a reasonable
safe spectator... now he was the main event...
He was shirtless before, but now the tailored wool pants were gone as well,
replaced by a swathing of black silk that draped precariously across his hips.
His eyes were hidden by a similar fragment of cloth... a good thing, too, because
when Alex saw the current state of affairs, his presence became known in a
hurry.
He stopped a passing waiter and grabbed a pen and pad of paper from the tray
he was carrying. He scribbled furiously then tore the sheet from the pad.
"Where's Felix Knight?" he growled.
"The last time I saw him he was at the bar... sulking," the frightened server
responded.
He threw the pad and pen back onto the tray, and made his way over to the bar.
Felix was easy to spot—black leather biker jacket and boots, dark
sunglasses, openly displayed weaponry, and a pout a mile long. He was
watching the show, but his eyes weren't on the prey strapped to the table.
Instead, his eyes were fixed on the predator who put it there. The voice from
behind him brought him back...
"I have a job for you."
"Really? And who the hell are you?" The last word was nearly cut off by the
forearm that wrapped itself around his throat. It wasn't the fear of
suffocation, but rather the thought of having his head removed from his
shoulders that made Felix go perfectly still.
"I would think that a Bruajha under my sire's command would know better than
to piss off an unassessed opponent. " Krycek released his victim and spun him
around on the barstool. "Like I said, I have a job for you... take this letter
to the Seneschal. Give it to no one but her—understand?"
"Yeah... sure... but don't think we're finished here."
Krycek watched Felix go out the door before returning to the night's
entertainment.
Who would ever have guessed that after just a couple of hours on a leash, Fox
Mulder would end up strapped to a display table and become the palate for a
painting in blood. Still there he lay, trying with every ounce of resistance
in him to fight against the sensation of the sable-hair brush Ecstasy was
drawing over his chest. The scarlet fluid that was slathered on his pale
white skin made for a tempting morsel to any bloodsucker that saw him.
"Eat-able art!" she exclaimed to the crowd, and then offered her newly
finished masterpiece with a smile to the vamp beside her waiting for a taste.
"I should have been a Toreador... " she mused.
Mulder felt the chill an instant before the vamp descended on his sensitized
and heated skin. He struggled to remain perfectly still, but every once in a
while, when he would feel the drag of a sharpened canine, a fright-filled gasp
of satisfaction would escape.
Alex moved toward the performance arena, the fodder of the night parting as he
approached, until he was standing nearly at the foot of the table. He watched
as Mulder's tension-strained muscles stretched nearly to their breaking
point... the magnificence of the body in torment kept his eyes locked on the
sacrifice being offered to the gods of pleasure. Just one look and it could
not be denied that, despite the fight his mind forced him to put up, Mulder's
body wanted craved? the ministrations of the hungry Kindred that
surrounded him.
The eager vampire's tongue followed the last trail of vitae that ended just
shy of the newly pierced nipple, where she planted a tender kiss. She suckled
at the ring and tugged on the tag that hung from it and finally, when she
pulled away, a moan could be heard from the bound mortal. "Merci, mon petit,"
she whispered into his ear. "That was one of the tastiest treats I've had in
some time." She turned back to Exstacy and bestowed a small kiss of gratitude
on her cheek. "Thank you, lovely. Fear and lust always add such a nice
flavour... " she noted the delicately outlined form of Fox's erection... "and I do
so like your choice of garnish." An affectionate little squeeze of the bulge
as she continued her conversation, "You couldn't perhaps be coaxed into
parting with such a pretty toy?"
Without allowing Exstasy a chance to answer, Krycek insinuated himself between
them. He raised a finger to his lips instructing them to remain quiet, and
then shook it from side to side. Even if the gesture left something ambiguous
in its answer, the feral gleam in his eyes was answer enough to the silly
vampire's question. So, with a simple smile, and no fuss, she bowed her head
and backed away.
Alex stared down at the prone form of Fox Mulder, who had become quite nervous
at not hearing a response to the earlier negotiation. He began to stroke the
glistening torso, massaging each muscle, charming the body at his fingertips
into a tenuous calm. A look of concentration contorted his angelic features
to one of gluttonous rapture as he willed the blood in his body to rise to the
surface, flushing his cheeks red and raising the temperature of his body till
the heat could be felt coming off of him in waves.
He smiled at the thought If he had any idea whose hand just ran its way
up his thigh... . He turned a decadent smile on Exstacy and lifted his hand so
she could see the single claw spring from his finger.
Mulder felt the sharpness touch the dip between his collarbones and begin its
slide down from neck to navel. It wasn't so much pain as pleasure to feel the
warm fluid begin to come to surface and trickle down his ribs, but when a
searing tongue touched the base of the incision, his shriek silenced the crowd
that watched. He pulled at his bonds wanting to touch whatever it was that
brought his body so easily to the edge of orgasm, his back arching as far as
the restraints would allow.
He could feel the sting of the heat as the talented tongue wormed its way
along the length of the open wound, sealing it with its touch and licking away
all traces of the life force spilling from it. And when it was done, the
aching in his cock was pure bliss.
Alex straightened back up and looked at Exstasy with a self-satisfied grin.
I always wondered what he tasted like. Pulling her slightly to the side,
he whispered in her ear. "Set him up as a display against the wall, and let
him rest. He'll be going home soon."
Without exception, every one of Angelique Gabrielle's charity fundraisers was
a gala event to which it was an honor to be invited. Up and down the street
the limousines waited for their turn to pull up to the front entrance of The
Plaza hotel. Power brokers, political figures, and celebrities... the country's
financial and social elite all congregated to show the world their politically
correct global consciousness. And the children of the world would be the ones
to benefit from their inflated egos.
She had arrived in plenty of time to be sure all the details were tended to.
Were the place cards in the proper order? Were the fresh cut flowers that
filled the room in flawless arrangement? Did each piece of Baccarat crystal
shine? Such were the minutiae that were not left to chance to ensure a
perfect evening... and she reviewed each one herself. The local police and FBI
agents in attendance, as far as the mortals present were concerned, took care
of security measures. The fact that each one of the members of law enforcement
was under the direct control of her clansman was something they need not know.
One by one her guests made their grand entrances, each greeted personally in
turn by their hostess. She greeted them all by name; she remembered each one
in detail. "Eleanor, you look lovely. How's that beautiful daughter of yours
doing in college? Such a pity she couldn't join us this evening." "Charles,
I'm so glad you could make it. Has that golf swing improved any?"
Each hand shake was a publicists dream... a picture in any tabloid of their
client shaking hands with one the world's best know humanitarians was enough
to skyrocket their client's TVQ, and no publicist worth his salt would pass up
an opportunity like that.
Once the party was in full swing, she could fade into the crowd until it was
time to convince her guests once again that they could be even more generous
than they had intended. But that time would not come until a lot more bottles
of champagne had been emptied So there she stood, smiling for the camera and
waiting for the parade of beautiful people making beautiful faces to end, when
the maitre 'd, cell phone in hand, came to whisper in her ear. "Mr. Crane for
you, madam."
"Thank you. Please see to it that the paparazzi outside are provided with some
sort of refreshment—they're more agreeable when they have been fed." She
took the phone and moved off into a semi-private corner. "Yes, Krane."
"Just wanted to let you know Morgan was on his way in... and he's bringing a
guest." The thin edge of humor in his voice made her smile. Well this is a
surprise. Maybe this won't be such a dull night after all.
"Thanks for the warning. Please let me know when his car enters the garage."
She wondered the room quietly until she felt a slight tug on her elbow and
smooth, velvet voice followed. "A delightful event as usual, Baroness. But,
then again, I've come to expect nothing less."
"Good evening, Cole," she responded affably. His tall, slender frame, was
casual in his stance, but still held the distinct air of the socially
privileged. Rich beyond the average man's wildest dreams, attractive to the
eye, and charming to a fault, he would have been at the top of Cosmo's Most
Eligible Bachelors list—if he had been mortal.
To anyone watching, they were simply two people, completely comfortable with
the extent of their financial resources, who had nothing better to do than
trifle with the air of sex. "I'm happy to hear everything meets your
demanding standards. And in what capacity do I have the honor of addressing
you this evening?"
"Don't think of me as the Ventrue elder, my dear... think of me as—your date."
The startled expression of amusement he was answered with prompted him to
continue. "It came to my attention that you would be without a formal escort
this evening... the Prince being otherwise occupied... it would be my pleasure to
offer my services." The look on his face reminded her of a cat she used to
have who would wait on her bedstand to see her face when she found the dead
rat under the sheets. .
It had always been Morgan's custom to accompany his Seneschal to these events
if for no other reason then to ensure her safety. Fame had painted a rather
large target on her, and he refused to see her sacrificed in the service of
anyone or anything other than himself. This night however, he had entrusted
her keeping to his Scourge—Crane ...but he's just got to check up on me.
You'd think I lived in fear for the centuries before I met him.
"Well, thank you for your concern, and I am grateful for the offer, but I
think I can handle this austere congregation. I could, however, introduce you
about, though I'm sure you know a few of the faces here."
"That would be lovely," and he extended his arm. "Shall we."
They toured the room speaking to this one and that, until a note on a silver
tray was presented to her. "Excuse me a moment," as she turned her back on
the conversation and headed toward the rear entrance to the ballroom. Out the
door and down the stairs to garage entrance where the Doosenburg was just
parking.
"I'm so pleased you could come!" the Baroness bubbled as she met them at the
door of the car. Taking Scully into an affectionate embrace, she looked over
her shoulder into the somber eyes of the Prince.
She could see him open himself to her and, in an instant, read his concerns,
Why didn't you tell me this before? but put aside that conversation for
another time. "Come inside," the Baroness continued, ushering Scully towards
the door. "At least now I know I'll have someone worth talking to."
Dropping into step with Morgan a length behind the ladies, Crane began tugging
at his collar. "I hate wearing this monkey suit. Sometimes I think you make
me do this stuff just to watch me squirm."
"Think of it as armor in a different kind of battle," came Morgan's reply
accompanied by a devilish smirk. "Make sure all the Kindred present know that
I am here and have declared Elysium. I don't want any spectacles tonight."
"Consider it done."
They entered the party with a minimum of notice, and soon, Scully found
herself surrounded by the rich and famous. She scanned passed the faces that
graced the silver screen and album covers, then came to a dead stop. "That's
a Supreme Court justice," she gasped in astonishment.
"Why, yes it is," chuckled her hostess. "I would introduce you, but he really
is an arrogant bastard."
A member of the Presidential cabinet, Britain's ambassador to the United
Nations, and then... "Oh my God," under her breath as she saw him.
Morgan stepped to her side, "What is it, Miss Scully?"
"There, at the table near the statue in the center of the room... that's Senator
Matheson." She looked closely, watching him talk to the tall, slender man on
his left, "Is he... ?"
"No, he is not one of us, but the one he is speaking to is very old and very
powerful," the Baroness explained. "He's just looking for some positive
public exposure... it is an election year after all."
Scully turned sharply to face the three vampires. It was amazing how, even in
the trappings of civilized society, she could see so clearly the savagery of
the Beast within them. "He may recognize me. We've never met, but I'm
certain he has reviewed my personnel file."
Crane stepped closer, "Why would he be interested in you?"
"Because he has been one of Mulder's benefactors since before I was assigned
to the X-files. Senator Matheson has protected our work on several
occasions... even pointed us in the right direction when he could. It seems
logical that when I was assigned to work with Mulder, he would have researched
my background."
"It's alright," Morgan assured in an even tone. "It's a very large party, so
it's likely that he won't even notice you since he doesn't know you're here.
We'll avoid him, but just in case, before he leaves tonight, we will eliminate
any trace of you from his memories of this evening." A glance to Crane—a
nod of agreement—and the matter was settled.
"Come, Miss Scully, the night is young," the Baroness offered, trying to
lighten her guests fears. "Why don't you and Morgan go mingle—have a little
fun." The stare of sarcasm from her Prince's eyes spoke volumes more than his
words would have. "Oh, Morgan," she countered in uncharacteristic
familiarity, "you can at least take her in to get something to eat... the poor
thing must be starving."
He laughed with the kind of humor he rarely allowed to exist. The glib, "Yes,
madam," was followed by a decidedly mocking, deep bow from the waist, and off
they went.
Angelique the Prince and his guest merged into the crowd, then she noticed
Crane pressing at his ear piece and listening intently. "I'll let her know,"
he said into the microphone in his sleeve.
"What now?" she asked with an inevitable sigh.
"It seems Felix Knight is at the front desk of the hotel and he says he has a
message for you."
"I have a feeling I know what this is about. Would you ask Mike to bring the
car around to the front entrance? I'll be back as quickly as I can."
No one seemed to notice when the limousine pulled up to the door of the club,
that is till the lady in black velvet got out and walked inside. Walking
directly to the rear of the room, the Baroness could barely stifle the chortle
at seeing Mulder displayed against the wall like a piece of performance art.
When she spotted Exstasy in the midst of her stable, she composed herself and
donned her most matronly demeanor before clearing the herd with... "Ehem."
Exstasy straightened up in her chair, a look of penitence spreading quickly
across her face. "Oh, hi, Angelique. What brings you by?"
"I got a message saying that our guest, you know the one mounted on your wall,
was in a, and I quote, compromising position... I would say that's a slight
understatement. I thought I told you to behave?" the wagging of her finger,
though not seen, could be heard in every word out of her mouth.
"It wasn't my fault, I swear," the scolded vampire defended. "You told me to
ask him if he wanted to be played with—weellll... ," a shrug of her shoulders
and the smile of a teenager made the picture complete. "Turns out, he did."
"So you tagged him?" the Baroness threw back, flicking the sign of ownership
with a perfectly manicured finger
Angelique hung her head in defeat with a smile. There really was no arguing
with the power of puberty—especially in its eternal form. "We are going to
discuss this tomorrow, Ex. Bet on it." She turned to the flunkies on the
floor, "Turn him loose."
He sagged heavily as they lowered him from his perch, but when they set him
down he could still stand on his own. "You didn't give him anything, did
you?" the Baroness asked sharply.
"NO WAY!" came the denial. "Come on, I'm not that stupid! He's just tired—that and our friend," Exstasy threw her head in the direction of the bar,
"made a suggestion that he rest."
The Baroness looked over and saw him sitting on one barstool with his feet
propped up on another. "Mike, could you take him out to the car. I just need
to talk to someone."
"No problem," he replied and went to take hold of Mulder. When walking proved
a slow process he turned back to the Seneschal, "It would be easier if I just
carried him," his tone waiting for the go-ahead.
"Sure," she said with a smile. "Thanks, Mike."
She watched as Mulder was hoisted up like a rag doll over Mike's shoulder and
then carried out the door. When they were gone she turned her attention to
the smug night crawler at the bar. "I'm sorry if things got a bit out of hand
this evening. Exstasy was just trying to show him a good time."
"hmph... it worked. Where are you gonna take him?"
"I have to return to The Plaza, so I can't take him back to the house... back to
the apartment where you're staying, I suppose. Unless that's an issue?"
"No... I think that's a good idea. It's time he knew I was here." The wistful
tone in his voice caught her off guard.
"Alex, is there something about this mortal you need to tell me?" She was
tender and open and caring—everything a creature of the night wasn't
supposed to be.
He let his feet drop off the stool and turned his back on her to lean on the
bar. She saw the irreverent facade he carried fade just for an instant, and
then the strength of his offensive hit her full force as he spun back and
faced her squarely. "Before I was Embraced, I worked for the FBI, and he and
I were partners. Let's just say it ended badly."
"I know there is more to it than that, but I also know this is not the place
to discuss it. I'll send a car for you tomorrow at7pm. You and I need to
have a very long talk." She waited for him to object, but instead she saw a
nod of agreement. "Good. I'll get Agent Mulder settled before you get home."
And then she left him to his thoughts.
Before heading to the car she stopped to say good night to Exstasy. "Do me a
favor, Ex? Make sure anyone he feeds on before he leaves here is clean—I
want his head clear when he leaves tonight."
The executive class limousine pulled up slowly to the brightly-lit glass
atrium that served as a private entrance to this upscale high rise. The driver
came around the car to open the door and extended a hand to the woman in the
back seat. When the Baroness was safely out of the way, he reached back in to
heft the limp form of Fox Mulder out of the car. "Thanks, Mike. Please wait
in the car... I'll only be a few minutes."
For the kind of money the staff of this facility was paid, silence was
unquestionably part of the job description, so when the seemingly sedated man
was led to the waiting elevator by a leash, not one word was said.
When the doors had slid securely shut behind them, she inserted a special card
key that would allow the elevator to travel to the penthouse floor, then
turned to Mulder and smiled. "I think we can do without this now," she said
letting the leather strap fall to the front of his body.
"Would they have hurt me?" he asked cautiously.
"Perhaps... but that's not to say you wouldn't have enjoyed it." The sly look on
her face made him uncomfortable... made him feel as if she knew the dark secrets
he guarded with his life. "From what Exstacy tells me, you didn't really put
up much of a fight. But nevertheless, she should have known better... you should
have, too." She chuckled, shaking her head with the humor of it all, and
exited as the doors of the car opened to an expensive, open room surrounded by
windows.
The lights of the city were bright enough to light up the room without help,
but the candles seated in the free-standing candelabras around the room did
add a comforting, warm glow as they were lit one by one by the servant who had
entered the room quietly. She was frail, but by no means fragile; she looked
to be about 25 years old, but somehow held the air of someone who had seen
more than her years. She was pretty, but it was the serenity of her face that
made her beautiful. When the candles were all burning, she opened the doors
that led out to the balcony, allowing the mild breeze of an Indian summer
night to pervade the room, then waited for instructions.
"I have no idea what came over me... it felt like... that is not the way I behave!"
he declared to the composed figure who had made herself comfortable on the
plush leather sofa.
"Have a seat, Fox... I think it is time you understood something." And as he
sat, she rose and approached her servant standing in the center of the room.
Even as the edge of her full, velvet skirt brushed by him, his own body began
to betray him once again. "You see Elizabeth here; does she look even
remotely afraid of me? Or does she somehow seem glad that I've returned?"
Mulder observed the dainty figure as the Baroness trailed the tips of her
fingers across the short expanse of her chest and circled around to stand
behind her. The slight tremble, the quick stabs of her pink tongue coming out
to wet suddenly parched lips... the signs were unmistakable. And if there had
been any doubts remaining, they were eliminated by the sound of hunger coming
from the still form when the Baroness placed a small kiss on her neck.
"Is it starting to make sense yet, Fox?" she asked, but her attention was
still focused on Elizabeth. "This sweet girl is a willing participant in this
game of survival all Kindred must play. Some chose to feed on the helpless,
some chose to feed and kill—I will only feed on those who are willing. And
I dare say, they are well compensated for their gift to me." Without another
word, she wrapped her arms around the supplicant's waist and allowed the woman
to lean her head back on her shoulder till the vulnerable neck was given up as
an offering.
Angelique looked up to meet the gaze of the man on the couch. As enraptured
as the servant in her arms, he couldn't have looked away if he tried. "What
do you see, Fox? Is it sexual? Or maybe it's more than that... "
He couldn't answer. He couldn't take his eyes off the woman... her breath
shallow, head cast back wantonly as if waiting for some long sought after
reward.
Slowly, the Baroness lowered her head till her mouth came to rest against the
fiery skin hiding the vitae that sustained her. She looked up at him from
under the cover of her lashes; the blazing glow of her eyes the only warning
before the strike.
When her fangs appeared and pierced the quivering throat, it was the scream of
pleasure that knocked him to his knees. And there he stayed—completely
focused on the supple young body arching back into the touch of her master's
mouth. It was erotic and exciting and repulsive. It was everything he'd ever
wanted to feel and everything he was afraid of.
She pulled away; her cheeks flushed red with the new life coursing through her
body. The only remaining evidence of the encounter was the expression of
spent bliss on the servant's face and a single drop of her blood resting on
the corner of the Baroness's mouth.
She laid the girl down on the floor gently and took the few steps that brought
her before the man kneeling submissively on the ground. Crouching down to his
eye level, she moved in close enough for him to feel the heat coming off of
her lips and offered him the remaining drop of vitae. When his tongue
flickered out and glided along the line of her bottom lip, she could feel the
tremors of his body through that single point of contact. And when he reached
the thick scarlet drop, he forgot that, even though she didn't need to
breathe, he did.
"You feel it, don't you, Fox. You feel that pull in the bottom of your
stomach? I didn't put that there." Her eyes sparkled with a knowing gleam.
"You may not behave that way, but right now, you'd like to," and with a kiss
she left him.
She returned to Elizabeth and lifted her like a sleeping child before she
looked back to the confused man still on the floor. "In the bedroom down the
hall you'll find some clothes that should fit you. Why don't you go put
something on, then we can see about helping you understand this a bit better,"
and then disappeared down the opposite hall to put her breathing life force to
bed.
He waited until he was sure his legs would carry his weight and then walked to
the end of the hall. Opening the door slowly, he looked around the elegantly
furnished room. It was obvious that someone was staying here, but just who
was yet be discovered.
He walked over to the large oak wardrobe in the corner of the room and opened
the doors—a section of drawers to the left, to the right clothes hanging
neatly. He flipped through the hangers one at a time until he came across a
patch of soft leather and pulled out the jacket. Old, worn, and
comfortable... it was someone's favorite jacket, that much was certain. It even
looked familiar.
He thought he was alone in this room—that is until he heard the low, whisper
soft timber in his ear. "Bet it would look great on you."
Mulder wanted to turn, started to if fact, but when he felt the solid wall of
chest behind him, he froze "I don't care what episode of the Twilight Zone
I've been living in, you can't be here."
"Come on, Mulder. You of all people should know that anything can happen in
the Twilight Zone." Alex reached around Mulder's statue still body and took
the jacket from his hands. He brought it back between them and began to ease
the confused man's arms into the sleeves.
"What are you doing, Krycek?" he knew trying to sound intimidating at this
point really just made him sound ridiculous, but he had to try. He knew he
failed when he heard Krycek smile.
"I'm trying to prevent the onset of shock. What were you doing in my closet?"
not moving from his deliciously close proximity to Mulder's bare, not to
mention well defined, back.
"Angelique sent me in here to... your closet?" Mulder stammered in reply.
"Who... how do you... I don't even know how to begin to ask these questions," he
conceded with frustration. He felt the chill of Alex's body leave him, and
finally bolstered the nerve to turn around.
And there he was... the arrogant cocky bastard. The insolent grin, the
pretentious air of his stance... the stone cold glare of his eyes... Mulder took it
all in and felt the rage begin to rise inside him. "I could kill you now."
"I'll take that bet. Don't you think you should start asking a few
questions... get your facts straight before you start shooting off your mouth."
"You son of a bitch... " If asked, he would never be able to tell you what made
him lunge forward in attack, but when he felt Alex's hand wrap around his neck
and lift him off the ground, he began to wonder himself.
With a few effortless steps, Alex had his chosen ward pinned to the wall, feet
still dangling off the ground, when he heard her voice from the doorway.
"I see Exstacy isn't the only one who needs to learn how to play nicely with
others. Perhaps you should put him down now, Alex." The Baroness was
cautious, but nevertheless amused. It seemed that nether death or age could
do anything to quell the male need to compete.
Mulder's body slid down the wall till his feet rested back on solid ground.
And when Alex took his hand away and stepped back, he nearly followed... but not
with the same intent he'd had before.
Angelique watched, as the two of them stared at each other... neither one willing
to yield to the other by looking away. "Fox?" she called to him, but still
his eyes never wavered. "Remember that pull in your stomach you felt before... I
know you're feeling it again I want to help you understand it."
She knew he heard every word, but his focus now was on the green-eyed night
crawler less than five feet away. "We are a seductive breed... " and suddenly
she realized it was no longer a battle of wills, it was a fight for dominance
- and Mulder was losing. She reached out with her mind to Krycek...
"Alex, don't."
She waited till the strength of his posture began to soften and he sat down
heavily on the bed. Suspicious to the bitter end, Mulder dug in his heels and
waited in vain for the other shoe to drop. He waited, but when it became
evident that no information would be forth coming, he turned back to the
window in the corner and stared out into the night.
"What is he doing here?" he asked with an air of acceptance. Why can't I
get away from this guy...
He felt the glide of her hand across his back and then the scrape of her nails
across the nape of his neck. He twisted under her touch, wanting more but
fighting it every step of the way.
Reassurance seemed to take on a tangible form in her voice. "It's because of
Alex that you're here and you're safe. I think he should tell you the rest; I
have a party I need to return to, but you can have Elizabeth call me if need
be." She turned on her heels and strode toward the door. As an after
thought, "Agent Mulder, would you like me to send the car back for you?"
He leaned against the windowpane, letting it support him, the exertion of the
night taking its toll and showing across every inch of his face. "No," he
responded as he turned to look into the pliant, hopeful face of Alex Krycek.
"I think I'd better stay here tonight."
Maybe they will learn to play nicely with each other she mused. "Very
well... I'll have Miss Scully informed."
"NO!" the two voices sounded in unison. It could have been the smirk on her
face, but it was probably the eyebrow shooting up that begged the question
demanding an answer.
Looking back to Alex, Mulder gave quiet voice to his thoughts, "I think I'd
better get the facts straight before I start shooting off my mouth." Then
looking down at his state of undress, he added, "And maybe put on a pair of
pants."
Survival of the Species III
by Niffusa
The terror-streaked features of his face began to fade as the black
convertible came to a skidding halt in the parking lot of the club. "Hey,
Ex," Mulder began with a tremble still in his voice, "I like a good thrill
ride as much as the next guy, but next time, I'm driving."
She moved in such a way that her chair seemed all at once decorated by her
body. Laid out in all her erotic splendor, it seemed only fitting for Mulder
simply to take his place at the foot of her throne, and wait for his
mistress's bidding. As if on cue, her stable appeared and surrounded them
bringing refreshment in their hands and lust seeping from every pore of their
bodies.
"Lord Conrad! Welcome! There's a platter of those chocolates you loved at
last year's Memorial Day barbecue on the table over there... ." the secretive
whisper, "but don't worry, I hid a plate of them for you in the kitchen."
Such was the meaningless banter all designed to make each one feel like the
guest of honor.
"No worries, Baroness. I picked up a new tasty treat the other day... I'm always
happy to share," Exstacy replied with her flippant trademark smile.
"Why not?"
"Because this way, you won't make an ally, you'll make a slave."
