Four Centuries (Damned and Cursed Book 7) (4 page)

"Okay," she said.
 
"We don't have long until this place is crawling with police and paramedics, so let's talk."

Thomas touched one of the parallel slices on his face and pulled his hand back to examine the blood.
 
His wounds were already slowly healing.
 
Touching the blood on his chest, he stuck a crimson-covered finger in his mouth.

"Who are you?" he asked coarsely.
 
"Another vampire?"

"I am.
 
How old are you, Thomas?"

"Call me Tom," he said, with a wink.
 
"Why?
 
You want to go out on a date?"

"How old?"

"Twenty-eight.
 
Old enough to know my way around a gorgeous woman like you."
 
He winced.
 
"Man, I haven't felt pain like that in a while.
 
What's your name?"

"That's not important.
 
What
is
important is that I'm here to explain the rules to you."

"Rules," he said, laughing.
 
"Our kind doesn't have any rules."

"When you come to Baltimore, you do."

She searched through her purse for several pictures.
 
Tossing them at his feet, she looked carefully into his eyes, trying to read the emotions.
 
Curiosity, vague remembrance, but nothing resembling compassion.

"The first one is Gwen.
 
You fed from her too long and put her in a coma.
 
The second is Tracy.
 
You nearly killed her.
 
And there's Jen, hopefully you remember her.
 
She just left the room.
 
I think I already know the answer.
 
But were these accidents, Tom?
 
Carelessness?
 
Because we can fix accidents and carelessness."

He let the pictures drop at his feet and shrugged.

"I'm not out to kill anyone, but really, does it matter if I did?
 
We're
vampires
.
 
We're better than humans.
 
If we kill one, just find another."

Victoria sighed and sadly shook her head.

"Now that, I'm not sure I can fix.
 
But I'll try."

She squatted down to look him in the eye.
 
Tom's thoughts weren't where they should have been.
 
He admired Victoria's figure, her breasts, the way her jeans stretched taut against her thighs.
 
But that was about to change.

"Tom, I don't know how long you plan on being in Maryland, but while you're here—and that includes Annapolis, Westminster, Ocean City, even the city dump down the street—you're going to be on your best behavior.
 
You'll treat mortals with the utmost respect.
 
Okay?"

She thought she was kind, but direct.
 
Tom merely laughed and lowered his gaze.
 
Victoria knew there was trouble brewing on the horizon.
 
Newborn vampires were always pushing boundaries, testing their new powers, seeing what they could get away with.
 
They were like mortal toddlers, looking over their shoulder while they reached in the cookie jar.

"I'm sorry, but I have to ask.
 
What's going to happen if I don't treat humans with the
utmost respect
?
 
What if I crack one open and drink her up like she's a light beer?"

Her smile met his own.

"Then I am going to kill you."

Playfulness danced in his eyes.

"You've got a mean hook there, Red.
 
I didn't even know we had claws.
 
But sorry, you don't look like a killer.
 
I will say, you look fine as fuck in those jeans—"

Victoria reached up and grabbed a handful of trash bag taped to the windows.
 
With one motion, she ripped half of them down, bathing the room in daylight.
 
Tom screamed as the light attacked him.
 
His nearly naked body blistered before his skin caught fire.
 
The flames started at the top of his shoulders and spread quickly, like he was covered in kerosene.
 
He ran across the room, heading for the bathroom, the first shade he saw.
 
He stumbled into the shower, cracking the fiberglass on the way in.
 
His breaths were labored and difficult as he turned on the cold water.

She casually followed, crossing the hotel room.
 
In the distance, she could hear sirens wailing.
 
Their time was running short.
 
Tom heard nothing, as he was too busy whimpering and listening to his flesh sizzle.

He lay in the fetal position in the tub.
 
His arms were crossed over his chest as he shivered.
 
Victoria stood in the doorway, blocking the sun.
 
She made sure to grab the pictures left on the floor.

"How…?"
 
It was all he could say.
 
"How?
 
How…?"

"You're going to be watched," she said.
 
"You're going to be graded.
 
Please, try to study and pass.
 
The rules really are very simple.
 
Behave.
 
That's all.
 
Now, I have to get going.
 
You'd better hide before this place turns into a circus."

She settled the purse on her shoulder and left the room, leaving Tom behind to cry.
 
She walked calmly and confidently down the stairwell and through the side exit she spotted earlier.
 
Three police cars were pulling into the hotel parking lot as she was pulling out.
 
An ambulance wasn't far behind.

It wasn't exactly spending an afternoon at the movie theater, but at least she could cross another item off her to-do list.

The next time she saw Tom his attitude will have changed, or she would have to drive a wooden stake through his heart and leave him for the sunlight.

She was prepared either way.

Victoria parked in the crowded lot of Tony's exotic club just before midnight.
 
Tony always hated the term
strip club
, as he felt it was demeaning to his employees.
 
A pink sign hung over the door that read
Gentlemen's
.
 
A limousine cruised in just behind her Porsche, and she could hear the occupants laughing and cheering inside.

She was checking her hair in the mirror when the limousine's driver stopped and circled around to open the door.
 
Six men piled out, in various degrees of inebriation.
 
Two of them looked like they'd fall over at any time.
 
She didn't mean to eavesdrop on their conversation, but that would have been impossible even for a human, given the noise they were making.

The obvious bachelor party was in full swing.
 
They laughed and reminisced about the previous club they just left.
 
They talked about which dancers were hot, which ones they were interested in, which ones were interested in them, a detailed comparison of various breast sizes.
 
Victoria couldn't say she completely understood the appeal of the exotic club.
 
They were just at a club, and left to go to another.
 
Did the breasts and vagina get stale at the previous one, and the group of men had to seek out fresh female body parts?

She caught up to the group, despite her best intentions otherwise.
 
Her eyes teared up from the different scents attacking her nose.
 
As they waited in line outside, one of the men noticed her.
 
She'd made a quick stop at home after the hotel, to change out of her bloody clothes into something more appropriate for a thirty-year-old.
 
It wasn't her intention to seduce, but if she happened to catch the eye of a lone mortal wandering Baltimore, she had no problem whatsoever leading him to the shadows and partaking a quick sip.

Of course, being an attractive woman by herself, she drew the attention of the bachelor party ahead of her.
 
One of them stopped laughing as his eyes fell on her, admiring her.
 
Victoria tried to follow the fashion of the times as best she could, and leggings were the flavor of the moment.
 
A clever way for a woman to show off her figure without trying to seem like she was showing off her figure, and also insanely comfortable at the same time.
 
Her friend Leese also called them yoga pants, although never once did Victoria observe Alex Teague's little sister perform yoga.

She'd decided on a black pair, stopping mid-calf, with a pair of purple shorts.
 
A black V-neck blouse completed the look, which was enough to get the men whispering.
 
Some admired her brazenly, empowered by liquid courage.
 
The more shy men glanced quickly before their eyes darted elsewhere.
 
The hushed enthusiasm was amusing.

"Holy shit!
 
Look at the chick behind us."

"Do you think she works here?"

"I think she's checking me out."

"Eh, I don't know.
 
A little pale for me."

"Oh man.
 
I'd lose my shit if she was grinding on my lap."

Victoria shifted her personality into that of a young, human woman.
 
She lost the serious expression and smiled playfully.
 
She flirted with body language, popping her hips slightly.
 
The men giggled and swooned.
 
One of them nearly summoned the courage to approach her, but the large man watching the front entrance gestured them forward.
 
He gave them a quick pep talk about minding their manners and having a good time, and promised the groom-to-be some extra attention.
 
They vanished inside, but not before several of them drank in Victoria one more time.

The door-man's eyes lit up when he turned around.

"Victoria," he said, a huge grin spreading across his face.
 
"My night just got one thousand times better."

"And mine, a thousand and one.
 
How you doing, Dave?"

She disappeared in Dave's arms as the two hugged.
 
Dave was six and a half feet tall, and had to lean over slightly just to rest his chin on top of Victoria's head.
 
She gave him a tight squeeze, just a little
too
tight, forcing the air out of him.
 
His reaction always made her laugh.

"Shit, Victoria," he said, backing away a step.
 
"Damn.
 
You always were a strong one."

"It's all those steroids I take with breakfast.
 
How's the family?"

"Pretty good.
 
Could be worse, right?
 
Terry's getting a divorce.
 
Again."

"Ah, really?"
 
It was difficult to contain her sarcasm.
 
"I thought this last one was the one."

"Victoria, please.
 
He met her while she was sneaking out the window of her boss's house, when the boss's wife pulled into the driveway."
 
He gestured over his shoulder.
 
"You here to see Tony?"

"Yeah.
 
How is the little scrap-ball doing?"

"He's good, but stressed.
 
A lot of new ladies he's dealing with.
 
Tell him I need a break soon.
 
And you…you need to come by more often."

She punched him lightly in the shoulder.
 
"Will do.
 
You take it easy."

"Always do."

Victoria stepped inside the club.
 
The place looked the same since the last time she'd stopped in, although the two brass poles on the stage were new.
 
Two women slithered and spun about while music played.
 
She found herself fighting jealousy as she watched them.
 
She had the strength and dexterity of a supernatural being, and couldn't perform a single move they did.
 
One time she tried, and nearly ripped the ceiling down in one of her spare rooms.

The stage was off to one side, where dancers took turns entertaining the crowd.
 
In the middle was the bar, square-shaped, where men and women drank as dancers gyrated above them.
 
Victoria found an empty stool and squeezed her way through.
 
She smiled at one of the bartenders, a young, busty brunette who dressed liked she was auditioning for the stage.

Spinning on her stool, Victoria turned her attention to the club, taking it in.
 
She wasn't sure what was more prevalent, clothes or skin.
 
The changing area was actually viewable to the public, off to the side of the stage.
 
Other dancers changed clothes and applied makeup in mirrors.
 
Private booths were in the back, where men and women could pay for personal dances.

Smiling, she let the memories wrap around her, like a cozy blanket.
 
The club held special meaning for her.
 
Her first feeding in Baltimore was with a woman in the very same building, so long ago.
 
Although it wasn't an exotic club back then, but a speak-easy.
 
She fed in the back corner, away from prying eyes, where the private booths were now.
 
In the same spot where she first tasted blood in Baltimore, Victoria's ears picked up a lap dance turning into something more.