Of course, reducing lost lives to a tolerable statistic, grated his nerves. There shouldn’t be any Invictus left to battle, but from the time the fighting pairs had come into existence several hundred years ago, there had simply been no way, at least not yet, for his world to get rid of them permanently. Some force resided behind the Invictus, maybe the same magic that had blocked the stream at Sweet Gorge. Mastyr Gerrod believed a vampire, known to the Invictus as the Great Mastyr, and bonded with a powerful ancient fae, was experimenting with the wraith-fighting-pairs, intent on some unknown long-term goal for the future of the Nine Realms.
But where either of these entities had come from, if they even existed, Ethan didn’t know, nor did any of the other realm rulers. Maybe this ancient fae had dammed up the waterfall and the stream, maybe she hadn’t.
He just had a terrible feeling that if he loosened his hold even a little, his Realm would see losses like never before.
*** *** ***
Club Prave gave Samantha Favreau the creeps. From the time she’d arrived two hour ago, one vampire after another had leered at her, asking her to dance, especially the slow-dances.
She’d refused, of course, since in her opinion, vampires were just above slugs in terms of real earthly value.
But that was the point. They weren’t human. They were from a different plane entirely, one somehow attached to earth.
From the time the world of the Nine Realms had made itself known to the citizenry of mortal earth, and started opening up these border clubs, more and more humans had become acquainted with what were called generally realm-folk.
She wouldn’t be here at all, but her sociology professor had suggested using the club as a basis for one of her papers this year. He’d also upped the stakes by giving double points for studying, then writing about any aspect of the realm-world so long as the research included at least three interviews with any of the species of Bergisson Realm.
She’d already interviewed a fae female and a male troll. She was hoping one of the elves would show up. She really didn’t want to talk to a vampire and the shifters in particular seemed very aggressive. Two had been thrown out already this evening for improper display of fur on the premises.
At least the club had rules, which apparently needed enforcing constantly. For instance, there was no blood-sucking allowed, but one of her classmates, Mary, had happily agreed to donate and was doing so across the room.
Samantha could see her seated on a vampire’s lap, just barely visible through the throng of dancers from Samantha’s vantage point. His name was Tom.
She shook her head.
Tom, the vampire.
It just didn’t sound right somehow.
Leaning her back against the bar, she sipped her cosmo slowly. Her gaze shifted from one specie to the next, from the quick-footed trolls who moved like beautiful maniacs, to the lithe elves, taller than most other realm-folk, who swayed elegantly when most of the dancers jerked, twisted, and bumped, then finally to the male shifters who all looked like they could work at Chippendales.
But mostly, she avoided watching the vampires. She could at least admit she found them strangely attractive and it didn’t help that most of the males were over six feet and each carried a lethal air.
From her studies, she knew the basic structure of Bergisson, that a Mastyr Vampire ruled the realm, though each of the towns and hamlets were incorporated and had governing councils. She also knew about the enemy, the Invictus, which never travelled past the access points, at least not that she’d ever heard of.
The Mastyr of Bergisson, therefore, had built up a Guard of over three hundred vampires and as she glanced at the several inching closer to her one-by-one at the bar, she’d bet each was a Guardsman. She didn’t think any of them were under six-three.
She could feel their eyes on her and she could sense their hunger as though their well-known craving for blood became a kind of vibration in her bones.
She huffed a sigh, scoping out where she could go next to get away from the leeches. At least she didn’t feel in any immediate danger. The owner of the club had a staff of shifters who were quite happy to tangle with the vampires and throw them out if they misbehaved.
For that reason, she knew it was only a matter of time before Tom-the-Vampire and her classmate, Mary, got in serious trouble.
The music blared, couples bounced up and down, strobes flashed. A shifter walked by, his fingers turning furry then returning to normal a couple of times as his human date squealed her excitement over this absurd trick.
She rolled her eyes.
One more male just looking to get laid.
She turned once more toward the dark corner where she could just see Mary’s white thighs above her black boots, her butt cheeks almost showing beneath a short red skirt.
Sitting sideways on the vampire’s lap, Mary wasn’t exactly having sex, but giving up a vein to a pair of fangs was about as close as you could get. Her body moved in a back and forth, slow seductive rhythm, as the vampire sucked steadily.
The movement, very familiar in a sexual way, reminded her just how long it had been since she’d been with a man, been in a relationship, even been interested for that matter. Sometimes she wondered if there was something wrong with her, that she couldn’t seem to sustain a long-term relationship with a man.
But as she watched the couples getting to know each other and all the touching, the excitement of dating, she realized part of her would be okay with a one-night anything.
Just not with a vampire.
She released yet another sigh. Okay, so she missed sex, but this wasn’t exactly her idea of a pick-up bar. On the other hand, maybe she’d start making an effort to date again, if only she wasn’t so easily bored with the men she usually went out with.
Samantha scowled into her drink.
The movements in the corner became more pronounced and this time, more was showing than Mary’s skin. Tom’s hand now pushed into one of her butt-cheeks. Donating in public anywhere in Shreveport was strictly forbidden. But what else could she expect from realm-folk at a low-life club like this one?
“Come here often?” The vampire to her left finally made his move.
Samantha’s scowl deepened. Had she really just heard those words?
She couldn’t help herself. Laughing, she turned and met the vampire’s gaze straight on. “You gotta be kidding me? Can’t men, despite the species, invent a better line than, Come here often?”
But the vampire wasn’t in the least deterred. He blinked a couple of times and his nostrils flared. “Sweet Goddess, but you smell good.” His chin quivered.