Calling for a Miracle [The Order of Vampyres 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (2 page)

Chapter 1

Larissa bounced impatiently behind the curtain as her body thrummed with adrenaline and her pulse raced faster than the music vibrating Club Silhouettes. It was Halloween, a holiday the English celebrated by dressing in costumes and handing out candy. When her boss had lain out a selection of provocative costumes for the girls to choose from, she had eagerly selected a dainty black lace ensemble with soft black fur lining the trim, a tail, and two tiny kitten ears.

Larissa loved clothes! She loved the freedom English women had in choosing their garments, so many colors and decadent fabrics. It was a world of indulgence outside of the farm she had lived her forty-nine years on. In two months she would be fifty. Of course she didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Fifty years old, a woman in her own right, yet she felt as if she only reached an age of maturity one month ago when she fled her oppressive Amish roots and risked everything in order to find happiness.

She regretted nothing. Sure, she missed her parents, but since she had been given to her husband, Silus Hostetler, like an auctioneer passes over a horse, she had seen her mother and father less and less. Her younger sister, Gracie, she tried not to think of. She did miss Grace. And then there were Adam and Cain. Her one blessing was that her brother Cain had found her. He had given her some money and helped her find a place to live while he, too, was taking some time away from the farm. He, however, was a male and did not have an overbearing husband to answer to.

Cain was her only link to the family she had left behind. She trusted him more than anyone in the world to protect her freedom and not run back to the farm, telling of her whereabouts. He understood she could never return, not to the farm, not to their sheltered way of life, and most of all, not to Silus.

A low, soft whistle sounded behind her. She turned and smiled as Vito, her friend and the club bouncer, stepped closer.

“Well, will you look at you,” he said as he took her hand and slowly twirled her for his inspection. “Prettiest kitty I’ve ever seen.”

She felt her cheeks heat and smiled as she looked toward the floor. “Thanks, Vito.”

“You up next?”

“Yes.”

“What are you dancing to?”

“‘
I’m a Slave
4 U’ by Britney Spears.”

He nodded. “Good choice.”

Larissa readjusted her cat-ear headband then turned. “Is my tail on straight?”

She waited, heard Vito clear his throat, then waited as he said in a low voice, “Ah…yeah…just…” She felt him adjust the black-feathered tail hanging from the back of her black lace panties. His cool fingers briefly touched the flesh of her bottom and she reflexively went up on her toes. “Looks good.”

She turned and smiled up at her big friend. “Thank you, Vito.”

“No problem. Candy’s song is ending. You better get ready to go out there.”

She nodded and turned to peek out the curtain just as Candy ended in a flourished press across the floor of the stage that reminded Larissa of a mermaid pulling herself out of water. The song ended and Larissa took a deep, calming breath. She loved to dance and the fact that she found a job that paid her to do just that was a blessing.

With one last look to make sure her high, shiny, black boots were zipped tight, she stepped out from the curtain and waited for the lights to hit her. The lights made it so simple to lose herself on stage. As they highlighted her every move for the audience they also provided her privacy. So long as the lights were on her, she could not see another soul. She was alone, on a stage, dancing out every emotion her body could feel and draw from the music. She was learning to finally see her body as something to be proud of rather than something to fear.

The drumming base of the song began and then the lights flipped on. It was amazing, the magic that the English could do. Smoke slowly bellowed from a machine hidden in the shadows and she began to slowly rotate her shoulders and hips to the beat of the music. Once Britney Spears’s voice joined the drumming, Larissa slowly marched to the edge of the stage where a pole was located. Prowling around the silver beam like a cat prowls around prey, she marched in her high, spiked boots, her feathered tail swishing and tickling the flesh exposed under her panties. Larissa became the cat.

She reached out one hand covered in a long netted glove and grasped the pole. With the agility of a feline, she lifted her weight off the ground and twirled her body around the pole. Male voices cheered their approval through the darkness. The other girls had said she was an amazing pole dancer. Apparently it was a struggle for a mortal to hold their body up in precarious positions for extended amounts of time. Larissa had the strength of any immortal however, and she found the task as simple as lifting a toothpick.

Pressing her feet back onto the floor, she held the pole with both hands and lowered her bottom. She arched her spine and tipped her head back, giving the audience a peek at her upside-down face. Her long, dark hair flowed freely across the floor. There were no tight braids or bonnets in the English world and for that she was grateful.

She swung her head up with a snap and turned her back to the pole, extending her long arms above her hair. Her breasts lifted and her hips pressed out as they swayed with the music. Dollar bills began to accumulate at her feet. It amazed her that the body her Amish community felt she should keep hidden, others would pay to see. It was only flesh and bones to Larissa. It told as little about her true self as her old aprons and frocks.

Taking one last stroll across the front of the stage, she bent at the waist and scooped up some of the money. She was safe on the stage. Men were not allowed to touch the stage dancers unless they had purchased the privilege beforehand. If anyone touched without permission, well, that’s what Vito was there for. Vito was a mountain of a man even next to Larissa’s five-feet-nine-inch frame. He protected the girls, especially Larissa, which was silly really, considering Larissa was probably as strong as twenty Vitos. But still, he protected her. He was her friend.

When the song ended the crowd applauded. The lights dimmed and Larissa quickly scooped up the rest of her money. She passed the next dancer taking her place on the stage and went to her locker to drop off the crisp dollars she held between her palms. Dabbing her damp skin with a towel she quickly took a sip of water from a bottle in her locker, stashed the towel, righted her cat ears, and then shut her locker. Some of the girls had warned her about not locking up her belongings, but Larissa just figured old habits die hard. Amish rarely used locks. If someone wanted to take her money, they obviously needed it more than her.

She passed Vito on her way out to the main floor and he told her she did a nice job dancing. For the next few hours, she would spend her time earning tips by serving beverages to the customers. Her boss had told her that, as long as she smiled and treated the customers kindly, she would do just fine. Larissa was always polite. It was against her nature not to be. The only time she had difficulty smiling was when one of the gentlemen asked her for a favor. Some of the girls danced privately for certain customers. There were different types of dancing the men could pay for. Larissa had yet to do any of those close dances, but that was going to change tonight.

Steve, her boss, had said she needed to start offering at least a “Level One” lap dance. That was where the dancer remained clothed and provided a patron with a few minutes of dance, but the patron could not touch the dancer. There were ten levels. Some involved touching, some the men were lying down or tied up, which Larissa did not understand. Some were done in the privacy of the back rooms and for most, the girls displayed their breasts. There was nothing wrong with Larissa’s breasts, but she never displayed them. She was the only girl who still remained covered from the waist up the entire time she worked inside the club. It just felt wrong to share that part of her with strangers. She hated even sharing it with her husband.

Tonight she was expected to do her first lap dance. Vito had promised her he would be close to make sure the customer did not touch her in any way. The touch of a man was something Larissa simply could not abide. She loved her job. She loved being able to dance to her heart’s content. If she never had to do a lap dance she never would, but according to her boss it was a requirement for all employees. She just hoped she could handle the close proximity.

The closer the evening drew to her break, the more nervous she became. By the end of the night, she had to perform a lap dance. When her break came she found Vito also taking his.

“You making good tips, Larissa?” he asked as she sat beside him on a worn, black leather couch in the employee lounge.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He smiled and tossed a chip into his mouth. His brows drew together as he chewed the chip. “Hey, you okay? Someone bother you out there?”

“Yes, I mean no, no one bothered me. I’m okay. Just nervous.”

“’Bout what?”

“I have to do a lap dance after my break.”

He smiled and shut his eyes, nodding knowingly. “You’ll be fine. I told you, I won’t let anyone touch you.”

“I know, it’s just, I don’t do well with…with being close to others. I’m afraid I will freeze up.”

“Why don’t you practice on a chair?”

“Because I don’t have an issue being close to wooden objects. I have an issue with getting too close to males.”

He seemed to think on this for a moment as he tossed the last chip into his mouth and crumpled the foil bag in his large, meaty fingers. “You could…you could practice on me.”

Larissa frowned. She sensed a wave of guilt coming off of Vito and she did not understand why.

“Never mind. That was stupid.”

“No,” she quickly interrupted his apology. “Not stupid. That may actually help. I trust you, Vito. If you wouldn’t mind me practicing with you, I would really appreciate the help.”

His cheeks flushed and his Adam’s apple bobbed. In a raspy voice he said, “Okay, Larissa. Shut the door.”

Oddly giddy for the help, Larissa quickly shut the door. It wasn’t like anyone would walk in on them anyway. Breaks were scheduled far apart for the girls and there were rules about leaving the floor during a shift. Only she and Vito had permission to be back there at that moment.

“Do you want me on the couch or the chair?”

Larissa looked at the couch. “The chair I think.”

He hefted himself off the couch and moved the chair to the center of the room. The wooden chair whined under the bulk of his weight. “If the girls don’t want to be touched, I usually instruct the guys to keep their hands at their sides, so I’ll just…” He lowered his hands so they hung by the back legs of the chair.

Vito was tall, but so was Larissa. She stood before him, his eyes practically level with her own. “Ready?” she asked and he nodded.

The music from the club filtered through the walls of the lounge. Larissa recognized the song playing which helped her formulate her movements. She began by walking around the perimeter of the chair. She had seen several lap dances, so she had an idea what to do. As she circled the back of the chair Vito kept his eyes toward the front of the door. She trailed a finger across the collar of his black STAFF T-shirt and smiled when his flesh prickled from the soft contact. Rounding the front of the chair again, she nudged his knees apart and stood in the space between. Swaying her hips, she leaned close to his face, allowing her body to roll into a low squat. His skin smelled of soap and tobacco with a trace of barbecue from the chips he had eaten.

Under the sound of the music, she could hear the blood pulsing through his system. His heartbeat quickened as she carefully stepped over his knees and placed her hand on his right shoulder. She lowered her body, but did not make contact with his lap. His breathing increased and Larissa took that as a sign that she was doing well. Stepping back into the space between his legs, she turned and presented him with her backside. She reached for her feathered tail and tickled his face with it. They each laughed.

The music tempo increased and she began to roll her abdomen, lower and lower until her bottom brushed the top of his lap. She heard him suck in a breath as his heart rate again accelerated. She suddenly contemplated when the last time she had fed was. It was not as easy to feed under the watchful eye of modern civilization as it was on the farm. Animals were scarce in places that the human population dominated the environment. Had it been two days? Three? She remembered hunting down a small rabbit, but had only taken a few sips of its blood, enough to stave off her hunger pains and leave the creature unharmed. The longer she danced the less she could hear the music. It seemed as if Vito’s heartbeat was screaming in her ears.