((Warning - contains material of an adult nature.))
The popular nightclub scene in New York City could change at the flip of a coin. Oh, there were always a few places that were always in vogue, certainly, but popularity rose and fell in others depending on who was enjoying the club openly. This club, however, never seemed to have any trouble drawing crowds, and only a few of those who attended were aware of exactly why. Humans are very susceptible to the persuasion of the perfect predator, and they enjoy being in that predator's company. Provided no one hunted the crowd, New York's predator population was welcome to mingle with the food supply in this club.
And the owner of that nightclub liked nothing more than to watch the crowd night after night, feeding off the nightly frenzy with an insatiable lust for humanity that never grew old. He was old, but not ancient, constantly reinventing himself and moving on before some other predator caught on or caught up with him. He had quickly learned that New York was heaven to one such as him. So long as he was careful, it was easy to get lost here, to blend with the crowd, and he couldn't help but admit he was having one hell of a good time.
He wasn't the only one in the crowd who wasn't quite what he seemed, nor was he alone in having a good time tonight. The beat was perfect, the crowd was humming, and for one club-goer, it was the perfect antidote to the growing stress that was rumbling among the people she considered family. She'd begged for a night off, and they'd given it to her, so Laurentia Emmeline Van Arkle - known to the wider world as simply Lauren - was glorying in the chance to dance her stress off at one of the trendiest spots in town.
The beat of the music, almost in sync with that of a heartbeat - or many heartbeats - was the pulse of the club that kept things moving. It was more than just a rhythm, but a living, breathing thing; the crowd pulsating and writhing to the sound of the music. It reminded him of an orgy, though he found nothing obscene or immoral about it. He was simply giving people what they wanted, and they were rewarding him for it by coming in droves to worship at their master's feet, as though he was a god of some kind. Well, wasn't he very nearly' He was practically immortal, after all, and he held their lives in his own hands. Night after night, he watched the crowd writhe and sway like a living thing from the mezzanine above that overlooked the dance floor, every now and then focusing on a particular face or conversation that interested him. It was far more entertaining than watching television, though even that had its occasional merits.
Laughing her way off the dancefloor, Lauren waved away the hopeful offers from various eager dance partners, finding her way to the bar in search of a drink to cool her throat. Just an ordinary drink - she didn't partake of blood unless she needed to build her strength for any reason. Her ability to survive on human food and drink was just one of many reasons she was able to blend into a crowd so easily. Of course, on a busy night like this, in a crowded club, getting the attention of the bartenders was no easy task, but again, Lauren had her own assets to play with there. Not many women were prepared to flash the bar staff just to get served, but then again, she wasn't many women.
She might have expected that flash of skin to get her noticed by a male bartender, but instead it was a female whose eye she caught. The woman was a looker herself, almost too beautiful to be fully human. She'd noticed something different about this particular patron, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She offered a charming smile that wasn't entirely amicable. "What's your pleasure?" she asked, dark eyes shining like moonlight in the dim lighting of the club.
"Water, please," Lauren called over the sound of the club, not even mildly fazed by the fact that her flash had garnered her the attention of the female tender. She knew that look, too - that wasn't attraction, that was predatory interest. Fighting not to smirk, she dug into her dress to locate her cash, handing over payment and a tip, leaning across the bar to speak softly to the tender. "Use it in the backroom, I've heard drunks don't taste too good."
One dark brow ticked upwards at the request for water, but who was she to argue" A mortal who wasn't interested in drinking fell into only a few categories, but generally speaking, she immediately knew that the woman hadn't come there to drink. Nevertheless, she took her money and deposited it somewhere behind the bar, well out of reach of customers. "I don't drink on the job," the woman countered with a slightly predatory grin as she poured a glass of water with plenty of ice clinking about in the glass. "You're new here," she said. It wasn't a question. She never forgot a face, and this was one she'd never seen before.
"Very wise." To the humans around them, it must have seemed as though Lauren was talking to herself, but she didn't care about appearances so much. "There have been hunts going on in other clubs, I thought I'd check this one out. Seems a little safer." Her pale eyes sparkled under the dim lights. She did love playing this game - most vampires didn't have a clue what it was about her that put them slightly on edge, and she wasn't one to give away her status without significant reason. "I heard the owner is very hands on."
"What else did you hear?" the bartender asked, neither denying or confirming the woman's claims. She flipped her dark hair over a shoulder and casually leaned against the counter, purposely ignoring the other patrons who were waiting to be served. There were plenty of other bartenders on duty to tend to them, besides her.
Taking a sip of her water, Lauren smiled as the ice cooled her throat. "That he's a good man to talk to," she shrugged, still apparently talking to herself. No human could hear her over the noise of the club, after all. "Has his ear to ground, and might possibly share what he knows for the right offer. Did I hear right, or should I leave and find someone else to sweet talk?"
"That depends on who you are and what kind of information you're looking for," the bartender replied, her voice as whisper quiet as the woman's, as she went about wiping glasses and stacking them neatly behind the counter. She had no doubt the man in question was listening. She could practically feel his presence, his curiosity, hovering nearby. Thus far, he hadn't intervened or even given her so much as a hint as to what to make of the woman, but she knew by now that this was all part of the game.
Lauren's eyes turned to her, meeting the gaze with stark sobriety. "You think I'm dumb enough not to insist on talking to him?" she asked pointedly. "I'm not on the foodchain. So either tell him Tobias Acton sends his regards, or I'll be on my way."
The bartender narrowed her eyes, an almost predatory hiss of breath at the other woman's remark. No one talked down to her, not in her own nightclub. This was her territory and no matter what the other woman was or what she wanted, she needed to show some respect. "I don't care who you are. His safety is my ..." She trailed off, as if some unheard voice had interrupted their conversation, and she furrowed her brows in annoyance. "He says he'll see you." She gave a little nod toward the stairs where a large, imposing man stood blocking the way, arms crossed against his chest. "Up there. Just flutter your lashes, and he'll let you pass."
"I'm not here to threaten him," Lauren said very softly. "I need his help." She glanced toward the stairs, rolling her eyes at the very obvious bouncer of unnatural origins. "Subtle," she smiled, taking her glass with her. "Thank you." Making her way through the crowd was easy enough - with just a little concentration, people got out of her way without realizing exactly why. She made her way up the stairs, looked the imposing barrier right in the eye, and offered him a slow wink and a smile. Not quite fluttering her lashes, but close enough.
"People don't always appreciate subtlety," the bartender replied with a faint smirk, purposely using the word people when it was quite clear she was referring to humans, mortals. As soon as Lauren departed, she went back to serving drinks - or so it seemed. The bouncer stepped aside to let the dhampir pass, not because of her charms but because his boss had said so, in not so many words. Once Lauren had passed, he resumed his position, like a stone golem, never moving or even blinking an eye as he stood guard at the base of the stairs.
The popular nightclub scene in New York City could change at the flip of a coin. Oh, there were always a few places that were always in vogue, certainly, but popularity rose and fell in others depending on who was enjoying the club openly. This club, however, never seemed to have any trouble drawing crowds, and only a few of those who attended were aware of exactly why. Humans are very susceptible to the persuasion of the perfect predator, and they enjoy being in that predator's company. Provided no one hunted the crowd, New York's predator population was welcome to mingle with the food supply in this club.
And the owner of that nightclub liked nothing more than to watch the crowd night after night, feeding off the nightly frenzy with an insatiable lust for humanity that never grew old. He was old, but not ancient, constantly reinventing himself and moving on before some other predator caught on or caught up with him. He had quickly learned that New York was heaven to one such as him. So long as he was careful, it was easy to get lost here, to blend with the crowd, and he couldn't help but admit he was having one hell of a good time.
He wasn't the only one in the crowd who wasn't quite what he seemed, nor was he alone in having a good time tonight. The beat was perfect, the crowd was humming, and for one club-goer, it was the perfect antidote to the growing stress that was rumbling among the people she considered family. She'd begged for a night off, and they'd given it to her, so Laurentia Emmeline Van Arkle - known to the wider world as simply Lauren - was glorying in the chance to dance her stress off at one of the trendiest spots in town.
The beat of the music, almost in sync with that of a heartbeat - or many heartbeats - was the pulse of the club that kept things moving. It was more than just a rhythm, but a living, breathing thing; the crowd pulsating and writhing to the sound of the music. It reminded him of an orgy, though he found nothing obscene or immoral about it. He was simply giving people what they wanted, and they were rewarding him for it by coming in droves to worship at their master's feet, as though he was a god of some kind. Well, wasn't he very nearly' He was practically immortal, after all, and he held their lives in his own hands. Night after night, he watched the crowd writhe and sway like a living thing from the mezzanine above that overlooked the dance floor, every now and then focusing on a particular face or conversation that interested him. It was far more entertaining than watching television, though even that had its occasional merits.
Laughing her way off the dancefloor, Lauren waved away the hopeful offers from various eager dance partners, finding her way to the bar in search of a drink to cool her throat. Just an ordinary drink - she didn't partake of blood unless she needed to build her strength for any reason. Her ability to survive on human food and drink was just one of many reasons she was able to blend into a crowd so easily. Of course, on a busy night like this, in a crowded club, getting the attention of the bartenders was no easy task, but again, Lauren had her own assets to play with there. Not many women were prepared to flash the bar staff just to get served, but then again, she wasn't many women.
She might have expected that flash of skin to get her noticed by a male bartender, but instead it was a female whose eye she caught. The woman was a looker herself, almost too beautiful to be fully human. She'd noticed something different about this particular patron, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She offered a charming smile that wasn't entirely amicable. "What's your pleasure?" she asked, dark eyes shining like moonlight in the dim lighting of the club.
"Water, please," Lauren called over the sound of the club, not even mildly fazed by the fact that her flash had garnered her the attention of the female tender. She knew that look, too - that wasn't attraction, that was predatory interest. Fighting not to smirk, she dug into her dress to locate her cash, handing over payment and a tip, leaning across the bar to speak softly to the tender. "Use it in the backroom, I've heard drunks don't taste too good."
One dark brow ticked upwards at the request for water, but who was she to argue" A mortal who wasn't interested in drinking fell into only a few categories, but generally speaking, she immediately knew that the woman hadn't come there to drink. Nevertheless, she took her money and deposited it somewhere behind the bar, well out of reach of customers. "I don't drink on the job," the woman countered with a slightly predatory grin as she poured a glass of water with plenty of ice clinking about in the glass. "You're new here," she said. It wasn't a question. She never forgot a face, and this was one she'd never seen before.
"Very wise." To the humans around them, it must have seemed as though Lauren was talking to herself, but she didn't care about appearances so much. "There have been hunts going on in other clubs, I thought I'd check this one out. Seems a little safer." Her pale eyes sparkled under the dim lights. She did love playing this game - most vampires didn't have a clue what it was about her that put them slightly on edge, and she wasn't one to give away her status without significant reason. "I heard the owner is very hands on."
"What else did you hear?" the bartender asked, neither denying or confirming the woman's claims. She flipped her dark hair over a shoulder and casually leaned against the counter, purposely ignoring the other patrons who were waiting to be served. There were plenty of other bartenders on duty to tend to them, besides her.
Taking a sip of her water, Lauren smiled as the ice cooled her throat. "That he's a good man to talk to," she shrugged, still apparently talking to herself. No human could hear her over the noise of the club, after all. "Has his ear to ground, and might possibly share what he knows for the right offer. Did I hear right, or should I leave and find someone else to sweet talk?"
"That depends on who you are and what kind of information you're looking for," the bartender replied, her voice as whisper quiet as the woman's, as she went about wiping glasses and stacking them neatly behind the counter. She had no doubt the man in question was listening. She could practically feel his presence, his curiosity, hovering nearby. Thus far, he hadn't intervened or even given her so much as a hint as to what to make of the woman, but she knew by now that this was all part of the game.
Lauren's eyes turned to her, meeting the gaze with stark sobriety. "You think I'm dumb enough not to insist on talking to him?" she asked pointedly. "I'm not on the foodchain. So either tell him Tobias Acton sends his regards, or I'll be on my way."
The bartender narrowed her eyes, an almost predatory hiss of breath at the other woman's remark. No one talked down to her, not in her own nightclub. This was her territory and no matter what the other woman was or what she wanted, she needed to show some respect. "I don't care who you are. His safety is my ..." She trailed off, as if some unheard voice had interrupted their conversation, and she furrowed her brows in annoyance. "He says he'll see you." She gave a little nod toward the stairs where a large, imposing man stood blocking the way, arms crossed against his chest. "Up there. Just flutter your lashes, and he'll let you pass."
"I'm not here to threaten him," Lauren said very softly. "I need his help." She glanced toward the stairs, rolling her eyes at the very obvious bouncer of unnatural origins. "Subtle," she smiled, taking her glass with her. "Thank you." Making her way through the crowd was easy enough - with just a little concentration, people got out of her way without realizing exactly why. She made her way up the stairs, looked the imposing barrier right in the eye, and offered him a slow wink and a smile. Not quite fluttering her lashes, but close enough.
"People don't always appreciate subtlety," the bartender replied with a faint smirk, purposely using the word people when it was quite clear she was referring to humans, mortals. As soon as Lauren departed, she went back to serving drinks - or so it seemed. The bouncer stepped aside to let the dhampir pass, not because of her charms but because his boss had said so, in not so many words. Once Lauren had passed, he resumed his position, like a stone golem, never moving or even blinking an eye as he stood guard at the base of the stairs.