Have you ever had this itch that you just can’t seem to scratch? No matter what you do, you can’t scratch it. It is there, persistent and nagging, begging to be taken care of. My itch came in human form. Alistair Gaunt. 

Alistair is an enigma, an ass, and just as bad of a thorn in my side as that cocky French bastard. The only difference is that Alistair was completely in love with me… or so he claimed. 

Lee was like Jason; he had a knack for making an appearance when he wasn’t wanted or needed. Yet Lee was a spy and had privilege to all of the good inside information. 

“Look at you love. Look like a right mess you do. Let’s clean you up” 

There was just something about Alistair, while he could be annoying, he was somehow familiar, like I had known him. But I would be a fool to say I trusted him. He is a traitor and a mercenary. A dog with out a true master. He is dangerous. 

“When we get married, you can’t be getting drunk all the time... As much as I love taking care you, it isn’t healthy for you… You will have to think about our family… I mean Cassia…” 

‘What is this loopy bastard saying’ I thought only getting in a few sentences of his rant. ‘he has probably been at it for hours’ I groaned silently.  

I cracked one eye open and looked around the room. The lights were dim but it looked like I was back in my penthouse. Well it looked like after he had gotten me out of the club, I had passed out, only to wake up in my penthouse, with lee playing house. I never liked that game. 

Opening my eyes fully, I searched for the bane of my existence. He was in my kitchen. And so I kicked him out of my house, his indignant screams of me owing him and him collecting on his debit falling on deaf ears… like I care. But while I tossed him out I couldn’t help but shiver. Oddly, what he had said stuck a nerve and I didn’t want to find out what it was. 

-o-

Dark, languid eyes watched as hundreds of bodies twined together. The deep bass music pulsated through the club, hypnotizing everything that heard its deceitful melody. Both young and old found themselves unable to resist the addictive tune; their treacherous feet began to move on their own, their feeble minds fading out to nothing.

A young lithe blond body caught the eyes’ attention. The child no older than twenty-five writhed against her partner provocatively, glancing at any man who looked her way. The eyes watched the blond intently, silently acting out some of its darkest fantasies.

Light blue eyes connected with the dark and all the eyes saw was red.

“Prey” two pale, thin lips whispered as they formed a wolfish grin. Stepping out of the shadows, a tall, pale figure materialized. A supreme alpha, the strong bodied man moved through the crowd towards his goal.

She was beautiful, in a superficial way; she was nowhere near worthy to be in his presence, let alone his bed, but tonight he needed something from her.

Rough, calloused hands reached out, bringing the girl from her other partner and into a strong body. She was surprised, he could tell by the way her heart began to beat faster. Long, spidery fingers played with her belt loops as they slowly grinded to the music.

His hands were like magic, carving paths of hot arousal through her body. The blond woman couldn’t keep up, all she knew was that she wanted-needed her mystery partner.

She looked up, her blue eyes burning into icy grey. He was beautiful, a blond Greek god, a work of art. He knew it, she could tell by the way he held her, possessively yet with a sense of indifference-like he could easily replace her if she denied him. His features were almost angelic, Strong jaw, high cheek bones, beautiful white blond hair that looked platinum in the lights, and mercury grey eyes that seemed ethereal. He was tall, at least six foot four, and his body was like that of David’s-like Michelangelo had gotten his inspiration for his statue from the blond man. But at the same time he had a sinister and imposing air about him, one that reeked with power and the demand of submission.

He was truly a sight to behold and she was lucky to have even been graced with his presence.

His eyes still peered into hers, asking her questions that she had to answer, lest she be thrown aside. “Follow me” they seemed to say. And how could she not, she was hypnotized. The angel grabbed her hands tugging her back into his corner- a small VIP area that he, and only he, had access to.

He pushed the bewildered child down on the couch before him, and when he was certain-for he never took a risk unless it was worth it-that no one would hear him or his query, he turned his attention back to the girl. Caressing her face softly, as if to ease her bewilderment, he moved his lips to hers, catching them in a soft kiss.

Like any good Casanova, he allowed the passion to slowly build until the kiss was scorching hot, lighting his body in a temporary heat and minimal satisfaction. ‘This is it.’ Oh he could feel the rush, the mind numbing adrenaline that came every time he was about to feed.

The music seemed to slow, the lighting in the dark corner intensified, moving in thick blanketing waves. As his mouth moved over her neck, his canines began to enlarge. The moaning carcass under him had no idea what was in store for her.

Slowly, as if he was in a trance, he opened his mouth, his glistening white fangs shining in the light. She didn’t see the fangs but it really didn’t matter anyway for he placed his lips of sin back on her neck. His eyes seemed to glow yet darken, red coloring seeping into his pupils. He gave a tentative lick- for he knew he could never fully anticipate the pleasure he was about to receive- and bit her neck.

The blond wept, she struggled, she begged for mercy, for someone to save her from this monster. And the monster, for that is what you call one who revels in another’s pain, covered the blond woman’s mouth to block her screams. While he fed, a small buzzing could be heard. At first he thought it was the white nose that came when one zoned out feeding, but it got louder and louder until it replaced all thoughts of feeding. The faint sound of a woman screaming was all the man heard. Gritting his teeth he tried to block out the noise but to no avail it didn’t work.

Rolling off the dying woman, the man tried to calm down and regain his bearings but it seemed as though the screaming grew louder pressing him to his hands and knees, giving his body slight tremors, making him bow before his invisible attacker.

Slowly as the screaming began to ease, he raised his head. With a sneer on his face and all the venom he could muster he spat out the name belonging to his attacker.

“Violet”

Before him a woman, just as imposing as the man, smiled.

“Hello Alistair, we need to talk.”