Rafe
The overpowering odor of blood in the banquet room has diminished thanks to the strong coroner's gel under my nose. I thought I could take the stink, but after tangling with Coraline and her henchman, my senses were alert to danger and the added adrenaline running through my system made the aromas impossible to ignore.
We've sat through three courses of vampire dishes and regular food served together. To be safe, Dria declined all of the blood concoctions. And I'll admit, I've had a hard time eating with the dark red offerings sharing the same table space with my meal.
"No, thank you," she says to a waiter offering a lumpy looking, disgusting blood pudding.
I stifle my gag reflex as our two undead dining companions dig in, excited by the extravagance and expense shown by the Tribunal. Their dates ignore the red glop set close to their own place settings and enjoy the cheesecake served to the humans.
My stomach gives a heave and Dria rests her hand on my sleeve. Settle, darling. It would be uncouth of you to vomit right here at the table.
A queasy smile crosses my face as I try to turn my attention solely on her rather than the feasting vampires surrounding me. I don't know why it's bothering me so much this year.
Could you be pregnant? She says with an amused lilt to her tone.
Gee, thanks.
Maybe it's because in previous years we've skipped these tiresome meals and gone off somewhere to fornicate like horny teenagers while they're served.
Even thoughts of sex can't turn my mind away from the revolting dishes circulating during the dinner. Blood soup? I think I spotted some congealed lumps and clots in there. A spasm clenches my stomach, and Dria rises from the table.
"Excuse us," she says to our unknown table companions. "We're off to enjoy other entertainments for the evening." My wife grabs my hand and leads me to a curtained alcove off the main foyer, outside the dining room.
I ease onto the red crushed velvet chaise while she closes the curtains. Dria turns to me, concern filling her face. Are you okay?
Yes. Just not myself with all the dishes and the eating. Really grossed me out tonight for some reason.
This coming from the man who can watch a Saw marathon while eating spaghetti, then sleep like a baby?
I grin at her mention of my love of horror films, all films actually, but everyone must have a few hobbies to keep them sane. The difference is I know those are all fake. Aside from the fact serial killers really do exist, it's quite different sitting in a room with several hundred vampires consuming human blood dishes like we're at a State dinner.
Dria nods and sits next to me, running a hand over my back in a soothing gesture. If it makes you feel any better, I think they used some cow and goat blood for the soup to set it off from the other dishes.
If you all can drink animal blood, why don't you? I never understood that.
It doesn't have the same nutritional value and doesn't taste as good. She stops caressing my back when she hears voices approach the alcove next to us. Compare it with eating bugs everyday rather than following the food pyramid. Some things you were meant to have on a daily basis, and others, like crickets, will only suffice when you are extremely desperate.
The rustle of clothes and the rasp of a lowering zipper reach us through the wall and in a moment the sounds of new passion greet our sensitive ears. As far as distractions from the dinner goes, it's a nice one-I absentmindedly listen to the creaking of furniture as the chaise next door gets a good pounding.
What was your impression of Coraline and Lucas earlier? Dria asks, seemingly oblivious to the noises of randy coupling drifting through the wall.
She didn't seem to know about your mind manipulation in January, but she still hates your guts and suspects you of something. A low moan from a woman with whispers of "please, please..." have me picturing the last hour we spent on the airplane before landing yesterday. I shift in my seat, trying to push out the naked images of making love to my wife that the primal sounds induce.
Dria pats her hair, checking to make sure the pins are tight in her upsweep. Lucas has always had an axe to grind with me. I wasn't surprised he ran off to find Cora the moment he could.
Who was that striking Mediterranean-looking woman with the long dark hair and strong nose who called the two away?
She calls herself Persephone. I can't imagine she was born with that name. She's one of the Ancients.
The fucking next door takes on a higher new level. When it's apparent the woman is close to climaxing, I rise from the chaise. I pace to the curtains in two strides and turn back. "Unless you want me bending you over this chaise, we need to leave."
My wife smiles and joins me at the curtain. Tempting offer, but I can wait 'til we're alone in our own room. Can you?
The woman's orgasm shatters the last of my control. I grab my wife and kiss her deeply as the waves of the woman's crest sounds a few feet away. "Yes, my pet," comes a husky whispered voice in the neighboring alcove. "Now, come for me again while I feed."
I break off our kiss, all too aware of the danger around us in the Seat of Darkness and yank our curtain open. This is not the time to lose myself in my wife's body. Heading quickly across the foyer, I hear the woman's next release while her vampire lover pushes her into the abyss of pleasure.
The lights and sounds of the gambling room are loud enough to drown out the frantic fornicating. My cock is tucked tight against my body and its growing thickness will soon be noticeable if I don't clear my head of the enticing noises. Dria catches up to me, the grinning minx, and slips her hand around the crook of my bent elbow.
"You ran out of there like the hounds of hell were on your heels." A hint of laughter sounds in her tone.
"What can I say? I'm a guy and the sound of people going at it and enjoying themselves flips all my switches."
The room you chose may not be a good one if you're becoming aroused.
I look at the gaming tables filled with vampires holding cards and tossing dice and wonder what she means. I've been to a few of these big soirees in the past, but they didn't offer gambling.
What could be the big deal? They're betting with cash chips, right? I can handle that.
Not always, my dear. Stay on your toes. I'm not a fan of what goes on when my kind decides to gamble.
We stroll past craps tables and come to a thick gathering of male and female vampires around a slim counter. A gorgeous young blond woman stands on a raised dais behind it. She's dressed in a short, pagan-inspired robe with fall leaves woven through a complex braided hairstyle. A lighted sign states her blood type as AB negative, her age, and her sexual orientation as bi. The sheer fabric of her robe hugs her tiny breasts and her dark, aroused nipples stand erect underneath, begging to be sucked.
"Modified black jack," a young vampire shuffling a deck of cards states. He's behind the table facing the crowd, while chips are tossed into a pile from the waiting vamps. "Highest hand from two cards, without going over twenty-one, wins her for the night. Tie for best cards settled with a second hand." He motions an arm to the woman on display. "She hasn't fed a vampire in a month. She's aroused and ready to go."
To emphasize his words, the young woman slips a hand between her legs, drawing up the short robe as she fingers her swollen nether lips.
"Come, my dear," Dria says while the eager vampires step up to receive two cards from the deck. "You won't be able to handle the rest."
"What? Why? They aren't going to hurt her are they?"
A throaty laugh spills from my semi-immortal wife. "No, darling. But the winner is going to feed from her in front of the ones who lost... and sometimes they wind up doing more than feeding."
I've been to Tribunal parties where public sex happened on stages, and lots of semi-private pairings, like we heard in the alcove-and a few rare gatherings that had a BDSM feel to them. But I've never been to one that gambled with sex.
"Fascinating," I say as the whoop from the winner reaches my ears. We head to another table with the name "The Best Bite" broadcast on a lighted sign. Female names and times show on an electronic scoreboard, and stacks of chips on a red felt betting table cover other names spread across the width.
A tuxedoed male vampire with long blond hair tied in a ponytail steps forward and says to the gentleman taking bets, "Put me down for a thousand on Gerald, I bet he can make Veronica come for over two minutes." The man's bet is taken, and he turns, catching a glimpse of us.
"Alexandria! You're not entering the challenge are you?" He smiles and quickly kisses my wife square on the mouth, like I'm not standing next to her. Arrogant prick. "If you are I'm changing my bet. You always were quite talented in making it last well past the others."
"Hello, Daniel. Good to see you. You do remember my husband, Rafe?"
Daniel looks to me and a brief flash of recognition crosses his features. "Oh yes, how could any of us forget the big strapping German who caught your eye and turned you monogamous?" He offers me a hand and a genuine smile to show he's teasing. "No harm, old man. We had our fun decades before you were born."
I ignore the slow burn in my gut, not willing to rise to the bait. I know well my wife's sexual appetites before we were together; after all, she didn't turn into this sensual creature who feeds off of lust after meeting me. But, I also know none of the dalliances in the last few centuries touched her heart.... or she would have kept one of them.
"Really? She never mentioned you." I smile with all my teeth, to show I did mean the sting. Nothing deflates a guy's ego as much as finding out he's so unmemorable in a woman's life she doesn't even mention him to her husband.
Play nice, honey. You know I don't remember the encounters because they meant nothing to me... literally. Just a means to an end.
Oh, I do know. That's why it's so fun to rub it in.
"Don't mind him, Daniel," Dria says with warmth I know she's not feeling. "We're both tired from the flight. Arrived late last night."
He turns from me and shines a charming smile at my wife. "Are you staying in the city? I'd love to get together after this for a... chat. Assuming your husband lets you out alone?" A glint of something more lingers in his eye, and I hold back the urge to punch the fucker in the face. As if any human mate would be able to tell their vampire spouse what to do. Jackass is trying to piss me off.
"We're staying on the premises." Dria's eyes travel away from Daniel, dismissing his unspoken offer as if it was never implied. "I'm sure if you're around we'll meet up."
A slight grimace passes over Daniel's Nordic features, but he quickly hides it. The betting behind him heats up, and he turns his attention to the action. Dria tugs my hand and we walk down the line of bidding vampires, passing a display of women wearing ball gowns and standing on raised platforms.
"No skimpy clothes at this one?" I ask. "No nubile young woman feeling herself up to get their interest flowing? Seems rather staid compared to the last offering."
Dria smiles her famous enigmatic grin, indicating she's either amused, pissed off, or not really paying attention. "The contestant must bring her to orgasm with just their bite and is not allowed to touch her genitals for added stimulation. The longest orgasm wins."
My mind travels back to the tantric bite we shared when Dria turned Paul on the icy path in Alaska. "Huh." That orgasm she gave me was a full body release lasting minutes on end, and she never touched my cock. I'm not really sure of the exact duration because I wasn't timing it. "I bet you did well at this game."
She looks at me sideways, the corner of her mouth curving in a smirk. "I always won." My half-stiff cock threatens to turn into full arousal at the memory of that cold night. Yeah, it sucked Paul had to be turned, but damn, that was an interesting bite.
We stroll to a craps table as the bidding continues behind us. "Maybe we could go back and watch that one when the game begins?"
Dria turns to me and pulls my head down to hers. She kisses me hard, pouring her passion for me into the exchange, in front of all the attending vampires. The evening is still early, my love. Can you hold back for a little longer, or must I satisfy you now because you're too riled up?
I break off our kiss and turn to the craps table. I'm not some schoolboy who has no discipline... But, to be honest, I am affected by all the sex swirling around us.
She smiles and steps up the table, preparing to bet. You're not expected to be immune to it. If the vampires rouse the sexual appetites of all the humans, their own subsequent feedings will be more exciting and passion filled. The entire event is calculated to bring maximum pleasure for everyone attending.
Yeah, I figured as much when we attended the live sex show a few years back. You and I barely made it to a deserted room in time. I smile at the memory while signaling to a chip girl circulating through the crowd. Peeling off ten one hundreds from my money clip, I hand them to the young woman dressed like a woodland fairy and collect chips for my wife.
Dria turns to me with one gloved hand raised to receive the chips. Yes, but we weren't trying to discover who knows about my manipulator capabilities back then. She faces the table and leans over the side to place her bet, her movements pulling the satin fabric of her dress tight across her ass in the process.
More than one man eyes my wife's backside before I step forward and nestle myself behind her. She straightens and looks over her shoulder at me. "Want to blow on the dice before I toss them?"
I lean and pucker my lips, blowing softly on the cubes laid in her gloved palm, staring intently into my lover's green eyes while I do so. Aroused heat sparks her gaze, threatening to overwhelm her motives for only a moment before she stifles her growing urges with ease.
I check out the other occupants surrounding the table and see mostly vampire men. I can't help but notice the event seems like an undead sausage party, regarding the ratio of male to female vampires. Why has this escaped my attention before?
Dria tosses the die while I mentally ask, How many female vampires are there?
The cubes roll to a stop at the end of the table. A two and a five show face up. The group cheers and Dria is handed the dice again while bets are placed. I don't have an exact number for you, but I'd say as a norm there are two to three times as many males who survive past fledgling status than females.
Why?
Most of the women are killed by other women, proving we're far more power hungry than the males.
I place my hands on her hips when she offers the dice again for me to blow. Cora pushes her way through the gathering and looks at the two of us with a snarl of hatred on her face. "How about we make the stakes more interesting on this hand?" No telling what that nasty bitch has in mind. "Or can you not throw dice well under pressure, Alexandria the Great?"
The excited tension surrounding the gambling table pauses as attention shifts to Coraline. I have no doubt the oldest bloodsuckers know exactly who my wife was when an enforcer, but I still don't understand why it bothers Coraline so much. A man of Asian descent with long black hair responds to her question, "What did you have in mind?"
Cora glances around the table, her gaze lingering on the human companions standing behind the betting vampires. "Why not a blood bet? Highest winner on a losing roll gets to taste the dice thrower's date?"
All eyes swivel to me and I suddenly feel like a bachelor auctioned as an escort at a charity event. I never would have thought this many male vampires preferred men, but they're looking at me like they might want a piece of me. Then again, she did say blood, not sex. I resist the self-preserving urge to shrink from a group of hungry predators and hold my ground, gripping my wife's hips more firmly to convey my displeasure at the suggestion.
I never needed to worry. Anger leaks from Dria and pushes out to encompass the entire table in one fell swoop of power. A buzzing tingle coats my skin, feeling like the blood rushing through a limb that fell asleep. The energy shuts down almost as quick as it occurred, but those standing near us cannot doubt its origins.
A few gasps sound as Cora's smile grows larger at Dria's slip. Bitch orchestrated the whole thing.
My wife's voice comes in a rough whisper, expressing great control, "I do not share what is mine." She crushes the dice in her hand and sprinkles the dust on the felt. A dark-skinned vampire of Arabic descent standing near Coraline studies Dria with a calculated eye.
My wife pushes from the edge of table and stalks off to collect herself. Cora watches her leave then shifts her attention back to me. Gaming has stopped while the others absorb what they felt and what just happened. Cora's eyes narrow on me. "I wonder what makes you so special?"
"It's called love." I reply before turning away. "You should try it sometime."
