Groans of misfortune. The flicking of cards. The sucking of powder through Franklins. Bass. Blood. Fuck.
"Doxy."
There was a tap at his arm. The vampire, dressed to the nines as always, glanced up from his game of dice, blow, and cash to acknowledge to human. Nikolai watched Jeremy\'s eyes as they flicked towards the floor. His eyes followed, landing on the (clearly) most beautiful woman in the club. Nikolai smiled, fixing his attention on the woman again.
The night had begun perfectly. He had dressed to his utmost perfection with a silk striped shirt, dark gray with lighter pinstripes. Diamond cuff links. Black dress slacks fit to his ungodly legs. Italian leather shoes. He had fed just enough to settle the Thirst building in the back of his throat, but no more. He had arrived at Risk at ten past eleven, his hair and clothes perfect and a stash in his coat pocket. Business was good, especially in the club where everyone was waiting for a toke and a fuck: too many Hamiltons to count so early in the night. His mood couldn\'t have been better, Judas content with the memory of fucking the brains out of that brown little rabbit, Morgaine, a few nights ago. There were no loose whores about, no business ends that were messy which he needed to clean up. Everything, for once, was fine.
The sense of victory lingered on his skin, in his blood like a cologne. Nikolai himself could smell it, could feel it and simply the idea of it was intoxicating. He had won this ancient in her own bed, made her come and come down hard. The massacre of Morgaine was only a knotch in his belt, a boost to his own feeling of victory. Now, Sonya was on the hunt again and Nikolai was waiting.
Don\'t even think about it, Judas snarled in his ear, pulling his eyes off of the Queen as she disappeared into the crowd again. But Nikolai wasn\'t exactly listening. She\'ll kill you if you approach her again.
I beg to differ, he thought with a smirk.
"Isn\'t that the chick from the other night?" Jeremy asked with a smirk, breaking up Nikolai\'s attention yet again. The vampire could smell the human\'s hard-on. Nikolai, said nothing, only threw his money back down on the table and rose, leaving a handful of distracted mortals behind him as he made his way out to the thrashing, half-naked mesh of the club.
He could ignore the moans easily enough, the advances by all of the chicks begging for a cock up their skirts, the asses, the cocks, the hips, the calls and offers, the yelling, the sucking, the wet sounds of different types of lust. It was all blood, all teeth, all bass, all adrenaline, all temporary until the make-up was washed away and the hard-ons were beaten off. Nikolai was looking for something a little bit more... timeless from this crowd.
There was never any eye contact made. He had found her again at the center of the crowd, weaving herself a web of horny men, ringed by angry women who couldn\'t keep up with her. Nikolai smiled, slithering his way through the crowd. Without faltering in the slightest, he replaced a slobbering human at her back, his hands resting on her body ungracefully. The vampire wasted no time on the pissy dance partner of the Queen, watching the indescript human out of the slight shade of his own black and white hair. Instead, the Prick moved in on the Queen, his denim hips finding the rhythm of her ass. She never dropped a beat, even as his strong, tattooed hands landed on the inward curve of waist.
