He looked up. “You’re the cop who got iced over at the Casa de Sade?” When Shamira nodded, he continued with, “Welcome to the big show. That place was a dive. Nothing like that would’ve happened here.” He went back to looking at his screens.
“What’cha looking for?” the Brazilian asked, looking over his shoulder.
“Got word that someone was looking to trade some morning star here, and it was supposed to be tonight.”
Renata laughed. “Who would be dumb enough to try and make a deal like that here?”
“Folks looking to make ten grand a vial.”
“Uhm, what’s morning star?” Shamira asked.
“It’s a magical drug. It’s a mixture of vamp blood, were blood, and some faerie blood to bind it. Makes the user pretty much God-like for about thirty minutes before they crash. Unless they’re in good shape, it might collapse their heart and make their brains leak out their ears. It’s the most illegal drug in the underworld of course, but that doesn’t stop people from dealing it. It’s death to be caught carrying or distributing.”
“Death?!”
“Considering the blood has to be harvested from a dying host, yeah. Our world is dangerous,” Renata said, looking a bit impatient. “Keep that in mind.”
Shamira realized that not everyone in Shane’s brood was necessarily happy about her being brought over. She wondered if she’d done something to offend this woman. She had seemed nice earlier, and Clara had said she was normally perky. “How many doses per vial?”
“One.”
“One dose for ten-thousand?” She paused. “Morning star. As in Lucifer?”
Now it was Travis who smiled. “Precisely.”
“You take it if you want to feel powerful enough to challenge God,” Renata said. “And it’s incredibly addictive.”
“Power always is,” Shamira replied. She sat down and looked at the screens. “So it would have to be a regular?”
“Or a guest,” Travis said. “Something about the faerie blood keeps the stuff from showing up on our scans.”
“Hey Travis, you’ve got contacts in the security field in Chicago and New York, right? Anyone looking to relocate?”
The two of them talked business for a bit while Shamira kept her eyes on the screens. She could see that Henry and Clara had already made friends, as both were sitting with a severe but attractive woman in her forties who had a young man in tow. He wore nothing but leather shorts and a dog collar, which the woman had a firm grip on. The man was barely in his twenties, and his body was clean shaven to show off his athletic figure. Both Henry and Clara seemed quite taken with him, and Clara was actually checking his teeth with the apparent permission of his domme.
She watched them all stand up and walk slowly through a door in the side of the main room. It appeared that there were a lot of doors that she hadn’t noticed, and there was a little light next to them. When her companions went through with their new friends, the light turned from green to red. She saw them appear on another monitor. There was a couch in the stone room, and it faced a pair of stocks like one might see in a movie about the Inquisition. The woman shouted something at the boy, who shirked his shorts and put himself willing into the stocks while Henry secured them.
“They’re not going to –” Shamira paused. She had no idea what they were going to do.
Renata looked over and grinned. “Lady Teresa has a new boy toy,” she said.
Travis nodded. “Your friends showed up on the right night. Normally she demands an exchange if someone wants to play with her sub, but she’s been giving people test drives with this one to see how he handles it.
“Test drive?” Shamira tried to sound disgusted, but couldn’t quite manage it. She looked away, unwilling to watch anymore. She saw Renata flash a disapproving look at her and then turn back to talking with Travis. And “disgust” aside, Shamira’s eyes kept glancing over there. She had one boyfriend, for all of about three weeks, who had handcuffed her hands behind her back a couple of times. She couldn’t deny that she’d felt pretty comfortable, but that was just light stuff. And the guy hadn’t been much for foreplay, or cuddling . . . hell, for anything but getting his own rocks off. Then he’d dumped her for an aerobics instructor. Not that she was still bitter about that.
She started scanning over the main room and, almost by accident, her eyes fell on a screen that let her know something wasn’t right.
“Travis, I think your deal is going down.”
The big man wheeled over. “Where?”
“Here,” she said, pointing to where two men were sitting in a dark corner of the bar. Her vampire vision couldn’t illuminate what she saw through a monitor, but it did make everything crisper.
“Why do you think this is a deal?”
“Well, they shook hands twice in the course of a minute. First shake exchanges money, the second shake is for merchandise. Also, one looks like a dom and the other a sub, at least as far as I can tell –”
“You’re not wrong,” Renata said. She was seeing some of what had alerted Shamira, but wanted to test how good the woman was.
“Well, but they don’t look like they’re together. Unless a sub can wander off on his or her own and engage in normal conversation with a stranger in a bar like this, then something is up. And the sub is wearing a fanny pack for crying out loud. People don’t wear those things in the real world if they want to have any chance of getting laid, but they’re great if you’re carrying something you want to get too quickly or put something away quickly. And it just looks tacky and, like it or not,” she said, glancing at Renata, “this place isn’t tacky. It’s . . . civilized.”
Travis looked at his fellow were. “I like her,” he said. “Any chance Shane will let her work here?”
“Depends on her,” Renata replied, appreciative of the girl’s skill. She’d be a great enforcer; Shane had been right about that.
Travis turned on a microphone. “We’ve got a potential code one in the lounge.” He gave a description of the two men who were talking. “One should be carrying cash, the other some vials of morning star. Take care of this quietly.”
Shamira noticed a few people who she’d thought were guests stand up and move quickly but quietly to the bar area, their faces awash with purpose.
“Wait, they’re not going to kill them, are they?” Shamira just realized that she might have sentenced to people to death. Should she stop them?
“Only if they’re holding.” Renata tried to sympathize with the girl. “Remember,” she said softly, “that drug is harvested from dying creatures, none of whom volunteered to be donors. Every vial is a little piece of murder, and in our world, we believe in an eye for an eye.”
The two men were rounded up and taken to another room, and Travis sat squarely in front of that monitor and watched. It was for the best, because Shamira really didn’t want to watch. So her eyes “accidentally” found their way back to that dungeon room and her companions.
‘Oh God!’ she thought. Henry was naked and standing in front of the young man’s head and was shoving his cock into the submissive’s mouth. ‘That’s another guy!’ she thought. ‘He’s getting blown by a guy!’ She wasn’t sure why that should bother her, since girls making out didn’t really bother her. Actually, she felt a warm sensation down . . . ‘No!’ she thought. But though her thoughts said no, her eyes and body were still saying yes.
Henry was not gentle as he rammed his manhood into the younger man’s mouth. Sometimes he would hold the human’s nose shut, making him gasp. Clara stood behind the captive with an unusual device in her hand. It was a foot and a half long and made of hard black plastic. One end had a small knob, and the other end had a set of inch-wide straps . It was these straps that Clara was flogging the young man’s buttocks and upper thighs with. She wanted to hear the sound . . . wondered if the man was gasping with pleasure like Renata had. It was hard to gasp with another man was drilling his throat.
‘Look away,’ she told herself, feeling a tightness in her chest and a tingling in her groin. She found herself begging her own eyes. ‘Please look away.’
Clara turned the device around, sucked on the knob end lovingly, then shoved it up the young man’s ass. She raked her fingers along his back as she shoved the device up into his body, taking it slowly. Henry had withdrawn temporarily, awaiting the pain to diminish so that he wasn’t in danger of having anything important bitten off. On the sofa, the submissive’s owner had her skirt hiked up and she was pleasuring herself while she watched her pet being used by these two strangers.
Henry’s tempo increased until finally he pulled out, blasting a load all over the man’s face. ‘The man can cum like a fire hose,’ Shamira thought, watching line after line of semen splatter on the young man’s cheeks, nose and mouth. She watched the domme stand up, walk over, look disapprovingly at her charge, and then slap him sharply across the face. She wiped Henry’s goo off of her slave’s face and then fed it to him, making sure he licked her latex gloves clean.
Clara was still fucking the man’s ass and playing with herself, her loin cloth pushed aside while her fingers did their dirty work. And she seemed to be doing a good job of it too, as her body shivered with delight and she came. She let her loincloth fall back into place, then she pulled the toy out of his butt. She spun it around and thrashed him again across the buttocks. Then she reached around him, taking his softened member in her hand while her teeth (non-fanged apparently) bit him on the shoulder just below the stocks. It didn’t take much to get him hard again, and she stroked him while both she and Henry made bite-marks all over his body. They were making sure that he was rewarded for his punishment. It made no sense to Shamira, but damn, he looked like he was a step or two from heaven. Then she realized how wet she was.
‘No,’ she thought. ‘It must be some weird vampire thing.’ But she could only fool herself so much. She was getting off on what was happening. Just like she had at Shane’s house. This young man had not one but three people whose only thought was him and the sensations they could make him endure. Pain and pleasure . . .
‘You’re sick,’ she told herself. ‘You aren’t weak like that. You developed this body because you wanted to be strong.’ And in her heart, she knew she wanted someone stronger. Someone who deserved that body. Someone who would look at her the way Clara and Henry and this other woman were —
“Shit!” Travis said. “Things are going south!” He jumped out of his chair.
“What?” Shamira asked.