Into The Vampire's Lair Chapter 6 teaser

I have started to organize my blog. As you can see there are tabs at the top so it's easier for readers to go straight to the teasers [which is what you hungry people are here for. Lol!]

I will usually post the teaser a day or so after the previous chapter has been posted. As for Chapter 6, I have an extra treat for you all- I have set up a page entitled 'All about Vampires'.

Since this is "Into the Vampire's Lair", I hope to build the world of the immortals as how I see it. And thus,

It includes the Vampire hierarchy and Council organization for those of you interested.

Okay, enough babbling. Here's Chapter 6!

***

“Do you think everything’s okay back there?” asked Erika, looking out the window towards Eian and Fiona’s house.

“It should be. They probably have some pack business to settle and don’t want us in the way,” replied Alaron, his eyes making a quick flick towards the rear view mirror. He didn’t want to say it out loud but he had a hunch it had something to do with his brother. It worried him but he was confident that Draven knew how to take care of himself. He would have to worry more later for at the moment he was somewhat responsible for the human beside him.

“Okay, that sounds really official,” she said with a sigh. This whole non-human business was starting to sound even more complicated than she thought. Turning to Alaron, Erika decided to change topic, “So umm, now that we’re friends, what do you want to talk about? I mean it’s quite a long ride back to my loft you know,” said Erika absently, twirling her hair around her fingers.

Alaron wasn’t sure how to respond to her question. He wasn’t one for having civilized conversations with women. In fact, his only interaction with them so far was for sex or the occasional bite or two to quell his desire for warm blood. Bagged blood was more wholesome, sure but it lacked that freshness and triumph that came from hunting a real human being.

“Umm… Al?” Erika’s voice snapped him out of his daze. “You don’t mind if I call you Al right? I mean, I know Fiona calls you that. Alaron’s a nice name but it’s too archaic for me. Did your parents accidentally add an ‘L’ in your name or something?”

Alaron gave a sideward glance towards his passenger. Was she always this talkative? Yeah, especially so when she’s berating and insulting him about something.

“I don’t think they made a mistake… and I do mind you calling me Al though.”

“Why? Fiona gets to call you Al.”

“But you don’t call her Fi do you? Nah. It’s just weird. I mean me and Fi developed this short name system because I didn’t want her to waste too much breath when she wanted to call for me.”

“That’s a weird reason,” she replied dryly.

“When she was uh… younger, she was always… uh sick. I mean, she would scream a lot at night, mostly in pain and sometimes she’d forget to breathe. So I used to sleep on the floor of her room to keep her company and Alaron is quite a mouthful when you’re in an asthmatic state.”

He saw Erika raise one shoulder in a shrug. “Yeah… I suppose that makes sense. So… you’re like her brother?”

“We’re so close in age that I suppose we’re more like siblings than Draven and I are. Weird huh?”

“Wait… so you’re not like centuries old?” she asked in surprise.

“You sound almost disappointed,” he laughed. “Nah, I’m only 31. But I think most of us stop counting our age after awhile. We just go by the century. At least that’s how Draven and my father remember their age.”

“Was your mother…”

“No, she was human.”

“Oh,” she whispered and kept quiet until they turned into the corner of her shop. Best not bring that topic up; she sensed that it was a sensitive issue for him.

“This is so surreal,” she commented as Alaron brought the car to a stop outside her old loft. It looked practically the same from outside but once they got in, it looked pretty much like a hurricane had passed through it.

Erika was aware that a man was following her into her home and was suddenly conscious of the state of her house. She had clothes strewn everywhere! A blush of embarrassment crept up her neck at the thought of him finding her soiled underwear lying around.

Alaron had sensed her tension the moment they climbed the stairs to her loft. What was she so worried about?

“I’m fine with sleeping on the couch or floor or whatever so can you stop with the whole worrying thing?” he commented the moment they stepped through the door. “I won’t go near you or bite you or anything,” he added when she gave him a fearful look.

“But that wasn’t what I…” she said, stopping midsentence when she saw him taking off his shirt and heading towards her couch. She wanted to tell him that he’d leave his sweat on her cushion but somehow the words didn’t materialize. Her eyes were literally eating the view of his back; smooth and even though it was dark, she could see the lean muscles and the way it tapered to a ‘V’ into his jeans.

“Shit,” she muttered, turning away sharply to avoid imagining wild thoughts in her head. The guy said he liked her but was gentleman enough not to make any moves on her so far. Isn’t that a good thing? Shaking her head slightly, Erika managed to make her way to her room without giving a second glance towards the couch.

Half an hour later, Erika was feeling fresh from her bath and despite telling herself she wasn’t getting lucky tonight, she put on the sexiest pair of undergarments that she could find. Swallowing timidly, she opened her room door and peeked at her guest… only to find him asleep and snoring.

“Alaron,” she whispered but only received a lazy grunt as a reply.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” she berated herself, slamming her door and jumping into her bed, face first.

***

It was a cloudless night, with no moon so it was dark and provided Draven an ample cloak as he watched Amber walking soundlessly towards her own home. In fact, walking was a tame word to describe her lethargic movements; she was trudging lifelessly.

Draven knew that he was partly to blame for her soul-less demeanor and part of him wanted desperately to reach out and hold her but instead, he remained in his hiding spot. He wanted… no, needed to take his fill of her image before he disappeared from her life forever.

Would she even remember him? The realization that she might not elicited a soft sigh from his lips. He was almost five hundred years old for god sake. Why was he acting like a dejected lover; walking around with his broken heart on his sleeve for all to see?

“Pathetic,” he hissed. He had tried to convince himself over and over that what they shared was just sex but he knew he was in denial. The fact that they established a mental bond shared between wolf mates even before they made love was enough to alert him of her specialness.

It was a special thing, he supposed, to be able to communicate with your loved one like that; to complete each other’s sentences without having to even say a word, to sync each other’s movements in tempo with the other, to be privy to each other’s emotions without having to even read each other’s minds…

That was what makes her so special. With his abilities, he could simply read any human or Vampire’s mind with or without their permission and erase whatever bit about him that he didn’t like. Life would be so boring that way. But this wolf… she could read his mind back and even stop him from erasing her memories at will. Not to mention that she’s smart and sexy too.

Smiling to himself, Draven glanced towards the single lighted room in her house. He couldn’t really see through the windows but he was satisfied knowing that she was inside; alive and safe.

It was time to leave now…

***

It was another two hours drive up to Culzean Castle but somehow Draven didn’t feel like returning home yet. He didn’t think he could face his father and not blurt out the truth by accident.

He needed a distraction. But what?

Draven needed company but everyone he cared about were south from where he was at the moment. Roaming his eyes, he caught sight of a few brothels and bars; their neon fluorescents blinking attractively in the night.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” he sighed and stopped the car. If alcohol and sex with other women was what it took to forget her, then he’ll be damned.

Taking long strides across the uneven ground, he took in the reek of alcohol, stale perfume and piss from the drains; his face kept straight while his peripheral vision observed the crowd.

He’d classify the place as sleazy with dodgy characters smiling or sneering at him, depending on the gender and of course the sudden need for some men to flex their beefy bodies at him; an invitation or a threat? A thin smile crafted on his lips.

“Whatcha smiling at gorgeous?” a silky voice purred at him as he entered. Draven’s eyes flicked slightly to his left and saw a buxom blonde leaning against the door frame, staring at him. It took him just a second to return his gaze forward; her mind wasn’t even on sex. Sex was a job to her and he was a potential customer.

It was useless. He could read her too much and that was just boring.

Walking on, he slumped himself on a stool at the bar and ordered a Black Russian. Maybe dulling his senses for awhile might make reading women less easy. Then he wouldn’t give a damn if they wanted to rob him blind for the night.

He was onto his third glass when he sensed someone slipping into the seat next to him. Draven grunted. Obviously if he could still sense anything, he wasn’t drunk enough.

“Another Black Russian!” he called to the bartender. Maybe he should have ordered pure Vodka or Whiskey. A Black Russian seemed so mild…

“I’d say otherwise,” said the person beside him. Draven growled slightly but didn’t reply and instead took a deep gulp of his drink. He could tell that it was a woman beside him but he couldn’t read her much… must be the alcohol finally taking effect.

“I think that’s enough Black Russians for now,” he heard her say when the bartender arrived with his fourth glass. He growled when he saw a dainty cocoa-coloured hand taking his glass away from him.

“Give me one more… that’s for the lady,” he snapped; staring at the bartender with an implicit threat in his gaze.

“No, don’t worry David… he’s just joking. Why don’t you go and serve the others? He and I are leaving,” she said sweetly before grabbing Draven’s arm and pulling him out of his seat.

On another occasion, Draven might have been thrilled to be escorted out with a woman in such a short time but at the moment, his head was buzzing with annoyance. Just how the hell did this petite woman manage to heft his weight up like that?

“Where’s your car?” she asked impatiently, sounding annoyed. What was she annoyed at him for? Draven wanted to curse her but the words stopped in his throat and instead he began to vomit uncontrollably on the ground.

“Fuck! Culzean, you arse. Now look at the mess you’ve made,” she snapped, pulling him up and literally dragging him across towards his car. “Keys!” she barked. Draven wasn’t even registering her question anymore but he felt her digging in his pocket… and the next thing he knew he was belted up in the passenger seat and on the road.

 “Oww…” he groaned, clutching his head in his hands. “Am I dead…”

“Yeah, you would have killed yourself at the rate you’re drinking!” the woman chided. Draven winced at the sound of her voice. She sounded so familiar and yet so…

“Who are you?” he croaked. “Where are we going?”

“To my house,” she said stiffly. “You need to feed.”

Draven rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat. “I don’t eat… food.”

“I said feed, not food. Good god Culzean, you’re such a mess!”

“How do you know my…” he trailed before blanking out.

****