Read The Nightlife: New York (The Nightlife Series) Online
Authors: Travis Luedke
Michelle had never imagined how powerful the unchained beast
lurking inside Aaron truly was. He could have taken on an army of soldiers. He
could definitely take her.
In spite of her shock, she felt a wellspring of love and
ecstatic joy. He was alive after all he had been through. His humanity and
purity of spirit seemed untainted by those horrid experiences. Michelle felt
an indescribable happiness at having the miracle of Aaron in her life. She
feared she didn’t deserve such a blessing. His only care upon waking from the
massacre of the night before was for her wellbeing. He didn’t even fault her
for trying to kill him––and damn near succeeding.
For the first time in many, many years, Michelle felt secure
and safe. She was no longer alone in this cold, harsh world. She had a mate,
a companion, a protector, a vicious warrior to fight her battles. She truly
loved him for all that he was, and more importantly, all that he wasn’t. The aching
loneliness of her solitary nightlife had been replaced with a radiant and
wonderful existence. He supplied her life with a vital, missing ingredient,
that
‘
je ne sais quoi
’
,
an indescribable something special. A
‘
r
aison
d’ être
’
, a reason for being.
* * * *
As the nights flowed past without incident following the
Ramada Inn massacre, Aaron became aware of a new presence co-existing within
his psyche, an aggressive, violent personality he dubbed
the Predator
.
The Predator lurked there just below the surface of his mind, waiting. Aaron
knew this was the entity that had possessed his faculties, his mind and body,
during the attack on the detectives. He recognized this elusive thing within
was simply a much baser, primitive part of his own mind.
The Predator watched people, perusing through their
thoughts, intentions, and movements, a semi-conscious surveillance system
keeping tabs on every detail of his waking life. The Predator made constant
assessments out the corner of Aaron’s eyes, checking the exits, watching his
back, keeping vigil for any potential threat.
The Predator seemed to have its own set of emotions apart
from Aaron’s. It functioned with a baser, more primitive reaction to people,
places, things, involving urges to fight, defend, attack, feed,
or to
simply enjoy the pleasure of moving at fantastic speeds through the night air,
rejoicing in its agility and prowess.
At times the Predator drifted a little closer to the surface
of his mind, pushing its aggressive agenda over the top of Aaron’s thought
processes. This was rare, but almost predictable. It was always precipitated
by some situation where the Predator perceived a threat. At first Aaron didn’t
even realize these baser urges of aggression were not truly his own.
In these moments where his control over the beast slipped,
it sometimes acted of its own will, enslaving Aaron’s body to its desires. In
one instance, it almost killed a man. It happened while running an errand for
Michelle. She sent Aaron to the corner store a couple blocks down the street.
As he walked along minding his own business, a hapless bum hobbled out of the
alleyway. He probably intended to ask for spare change or whatever. The
Predator saw a threat. Before Aaron knew what happened, the Predator leaped
forward, seizing his motor skills. He lashed out at the vagrant with a back
hand, knocking the poor guy sprawling across the sidewalk.
Aaron stood in complete shock and awe at what he’d done. The
vagrant cursed and spit at him in a toothless garble, “Ga dern sumbitch. Leavemee
lone! I ain’t touch you. Don’t go messin’ with me, ya crazy bastard!”
He stood there gawking at the filthy old geezer like an
idiot. The man picked himself up and limped off, cursing the whole way. Since
that incident Aaron realized he’d have to maintain a vigil of his own, to keep
a close eye on the Predator’s reactions and urges, keep it from bleeding over
into his life.
The Predator knew otherwise. It knew there would always be
those incidents––
moments of need
––when decisive, aggressive action would
be necessary. Like a caged lion that
knows
it will escape eventually, the
Predator waited patiently for Aaron to leave the door unlatched.
* * * *
Michelle noticed the change in Aaron immediately. He was
now a man in every sense of the word. There was a rock-solid powerful presence
beneath every movement and expression. His carriage, stance, demeanor, walk,
everything about him spoke of power. The kind of inner strength that comes
with being self-assured of the ability to manage any situation.
Without words to acknowledge the event, their relationship
had completely morphed overnight. He became her equal. There was no more of
the motherly mentorship role. Aaron’s judgment, instincts, capabilities, and
maturity were unquestionable. She had nothing left to teach that he hadn’t
learned that night.
She loathed using her authority of compulsion for any reason
other than a dire life-threatening emergency. It seemed an offensive act to
degrade this powerful, graceful creature with a compulsive command.
Like a person who owns a wild animal, to taunt the beast
with cruel treatment is to risk loss of life and limb. She didn’t wish to
arouse Aaron’s wrath with petty commands of compulsion. He was a force to be
reckoned with, not manipulated. To this extent, she actually feared him. Without
the reassurance of his love, without his constant affection, she’d be looking
over her shoulder for a stab in the back.
She understood, probably better than Aaron did, exactly how vicious
and dangerous a male vampire could be. She had no desire to evoke the darkness
within him. He was normally the perfect vision of comportment and civility,
and she wanted to keep it that way.
Their relationship functioned on a new paradigm of mutual love
and respect. But she was no longer his master. Not if she valued her life. Her
days of ordering Aaron around were finished.
* * * *
MEDICAL
EXAMINER RULES N.Y.P.D. DETECTIVES DEATHS A DOUBLE HOMICIDE
The death of fifty-two year old detective Conner Oberman
with the 124th precinct N.Y.P.D., has been ruled a homicide, the medical
examiner’s office said Monday. Detective Oberman was found face-down in the
south side parking lot of the Ramada Inn on Lincoln Blvd. at 11:55 p.m. Friday
evening by police officials responding to reports of multiple gunshots fired.
Investigators determined that Oberman fell to his death from the third floor
balcony of room 322.
In a related homicide, Oberman’s partner, forty-nine year
old Detective Sean Konowicz with the 124th precinct N.Y.P.D., was pronounced
dead at the scene in room 322 of the same hotel. Detective Konowicz’s autopsy
states, “… massive trauma to the trachea …” with a “… significant contributing
factor of external hemorrhage as the cause of death,” according to the news
release from the medical examiner’s office. When asked if the detectives were
on official police business when the murders took place, Police Chief Schueller
declined to comment stating, “The investigation is ongoing and the N.Y.P.D.
homicide detectives are following all potential leads.” There have been no
suspects identified as of yet and no new developments in the investigation
beyond the medical examiner’s reports.
Michelle handed her cell phone off to Aaron. “Is your
friend again. Please make the arrangements.” He nodded and winked at her.
“Hey Kyle, it’s good to hear from you. What’s up?”
“Same ole same ole. What have you been doing with yourself
lately? Seems like forever since we hung out.” Kyle hadn’t spoken to him in
over a week. Not since he called to warn him about the detectives.
“I’m doing great, fantastic actually. I’ve been keeping
really busy. Michelle’s got me running here, there, and everywhere.” Aaron
snorted at the inside joke.
“I’ll bet. You gotta do whatever it takes to keep a girl
like Michelle happy.” Obviously Kyle was still enthralled with Michelle, but
then who wasn’t? Everyone she came into contact with fell under her spell. She
collected admirers like other women collect shoes.
“You betcha. I make sure to do everything I can to keep my
baby happy. You wouldn’t want to see what she’s like when she’s angry. That’s
something to avoid at all costs.” Aaron paused and then redirected, “How about
you? What’s new? Find a new roommate yet?”
“No man, I guess I’m just a sentimental fool. I can’t bring
myself to put anyone else in your room. It wouldn’t be the same.” Kyle spoke
as though reciting a Shakespearean tragedy.
“Stop it. You’re gonna make me cry!” Aaron mimicked Kyle’s
tragic tone. He knew the truth––Kyle simply couldn’t find another chump to
foot the bill for half the rent and utilities.
“Hey, man, don’t get all weepy on me. You know I can’t
handle it. Really, I called to invite you and Michelle to a little party I’m
having this Friday. Since you can’t seem to find the time to come see your
best friend I decided to throw a party. Seemed like a good excuse to get you
to show up.”
“
Ohhh reeaaallly
. And should I assume this
invitation comes with the requirement that I bring a twenty-four pack?”
Kyle snickered. “You know me far too well. It’s like you
can read my mind or somethin’. Kinda startin’ to creep me out dude!”
“I tell you what, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll show up with a
twenty-four pack and my fabulously gorgeous girlfriend, ready to party, on one
condition … You make sure Delia’s there.”
“You got it, man. She woulda been here anyway. You know that.”
Kyle paused. “I gotta say, Michelle has Delia beat hands down, all the way
around. It’s like, no contest. Honestly, I don’t know why you’d be interested
in Delia anymore.”
“Definitely, Michelle is awesome, no doubt about it. But
hey … don’t say anything to Delia about this, okay? I want to surprise her. Got
it?”
“Sure, no problem, catch you Friday, around ten. You take
care. Tell Michelle I said hi.” Kyle hung up.
Aaron turned to Michelle with a wicked smile that didn’t
quite reach his eyes, “Hey, baby, we’re goin’ to a party Friday night! Delia’s
gonna be there. Make sure you let her know how much we appreciate everything
she’s done for us.”
“
Oui mon
chéri
, I will make sure she knows exactly how I feel!”
* * * *
Talco felt like he truly had a guardian angel. Someone up
above had taken pity on him. He’d been delivered from the hands of the demon
who came to drag Oberman and Konowicz to Hell. Sure he had some broken ribs,
and a surgery on his punctured lung, but he was alive and well, relatively
speaking. Sitting in his hospital bed, he read the newspaper daily, searching
for any mention of the detectives. He saw the articles, which said very
little, but it was enough.
He knew the score. He knew how very close he came to sharing
their fate. It was divine intervention that woke him from unconsciousness in
the hotel hallway and steered him down the stairwell to life and freedom. His
escape from the Ramada Inn was nothing short of a religious experience.
The police didn’t have a clue he had been there. There were
no witnesses who survived. What could a witness testify to anyway? Would a judge
and jury listen to tales of demonic entities sent to collect the damned,
dragging their souls down into the abyss? There was no way to explain to the
faithless what had occurred that night.
He swore to bury the memory. None would ever hear his tale.
He’d keep this event close to his chest and build upon it a foundation for a
new life free of corruption. He would be a good father, a good husband, a good
member of the church and community.
His deal with the devil had been broken, his life spared. He
would not waste this opportunity to remake himself in the eyes of God and all
those he loved.
* * * *
Aaron smiled wide as Kyle opened the door to his apartment.
“Hey Aaron, my man, my savior, what would I do without you––and
your beer?” Kyle bumped knuckles with him and then took in Michelle in all her
splendor. “Ah Michelle, mon amour, you’re looking lovely as ever.” Kyle made
eyes at her, grabbing her hand as though he would kiss it. She swatted him
away and smiled demurely, in character with her girl-next-door persona, assumed
and discarded at the flick of a switch.
Michelle did indeed look lovely in her second-skin, black
jeans and skimpy, red top with lots of open back and cleavage.
Aaron saw Delia immediately, camped on the other side of the
room with Amber and gang. Delia could not stop staring at him. He acted like
she didn’t exist.
As the party raged on, he and Michelle worked the room,
enjoying the carefree light-hearted atmosphere of the young, immature party
goers. Delia was completely ignored, but she maintained her relentless stare
at Aaron. Reading her mind, she was consumed with jealousy, obsessed with him,
desperately waiting for an opening to talk with him alone. Michelle had been
right all along, the girl was a problem.
A half hour into the party, Amber approached him. “Can I
talk to you for a second?” Her eyes flitted to Michelle, who was occupied with
Kyle’s flirtations.
“I’m right here.” He smiled brightly, and she blushed.
He read Amber’s intense attraction to him and her embarrassment
at being cornered into the awkward position of acting as Delia’s ambassador. He
listened patiently. “Um … really its Delia, she wants to talk privately, in
the bedroom. She really misses you. I mean it. I’ve never seen her like
this. Can you just talk to her for a couple minutes?” Amber’s eyes shifted
back towards Michelle, as though afraid to be caught in the middle of this
little game.
He surprised her with a wide open grin. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
Aaron flashed a winning smile in Delia’s direction. The
first time he’d given her any attention all night. She blushed too. He
wondered if Delia had a clue how much her best friend wanted to get in his
pants. She probably wouldn’t be sending Amber to him anymore if she learned
the truth.
He drew Delia into the room, putting his arm around her in a
casual embrace as he closed the door behind them. Delia’s pulse pounded and he
read her intense desire-obsession, as she grew wet between the legs from his
proximity. She knew something exciting was about to happen. She couldn’t understand
what had come over her. He had never driven her hormones crazy like this. No
man had ever affected her this way.
He pulled away from her and stepped farther into the bedroom.
The separation was almost painful for Delia. She yearned to touch him, to
reach her hands up under his shirt. She broke into a sweat with fantasies of
all the delightfully naughty things she wanted him to do.
He stood there looking at her. Gradually his face turned to
a scowl, eyes cold as ice. Delia began to fear he had discovered she called
the police to report Michelle. She feared his disapproval and rejection. Her
mind raced through lies, misdirection and excuses she could use to skirt the
issue, preparing for a reproach.
He read her as she unwittingly confessed to her betrayal
that led to the Ramada Inn massacre and his and Michelle’s
near-death-experiences. Delia had just condemned herself. The judge, jury,
and executioner stood right behind her, silently reading all that Aaron
discovered through their intimate psychic bond. Michelle had slipped into the
room silently after them, and stood directly behind Delia the entire time. He
transmitted all of Delia’s thoughts to her.
Sensing something was seriously wrong, Delia began
blabbering nervously, “I have done a lot of thinking lately, and I realize I was
wrong about splitting up. You know we belong together.” She smiled warmly
with an air of correctness and expectation, no hint of innocence or apology.
Aaron walked toward Delia as though he would embrace her
again, but kept on going right past her. As she turned to grab him, he walked
into Michelle’s embrace and kissed her lovingly.
Michelle broke off and patted him gently on the shoulder. “Delia
and I have something to discuss. Give us a moment, please.”
He nodded and quickly exited the room, closing the door
behind him.
* * * *
Delia tried to follow Aaron out, moving past Michelle
towards the door. Michelle snatched her up off her feet one-handed, spun her
around and pinned her back to the door, face to face. She had Delia by the
throat, pressed securely against the door with her feet dangling in the air. Delia
squirmed frantically, trying to somehow free herself from the iron claws that
dug into her throat like a bear trap.
Michelle’s mouth opened inhumanly wide, a python preparing
to swallow its prey whole. She hissed in Delia’s face, bearing her fangs. Delia
froze, immobilized by terror at the predatory beast inches away from her. Michelle
leaned forward and bit, her razor sharp fangs pierced through shirt and bra and
sank into the soft fatty tissue of Delia’s right breast. Delia’s terror peaked
and her bowels released. Urine ran down her legs to pool on the floor beneath
her. She gagged, but couldn’t vomit as her esophagus was constricted by
Michelle’s wicked hold on her throat. She swallowed it back down to breathe.
Michelle released Delia’s breast, licked the blood off her
lips, and held Delia’s terrified gaze with murderous intensity. Delia was
deathly pale and shaking with a mewling sound––the only noise that could escape
her constricted wind pipe.
Time to stop playing around and get serious. She reached
her free hand up Delia’s skirt and tore off her cotton underwear. Delia
squealed at the brush of Michelle’s sharp claws across her intimate folds.
Michelle licked her finger tips suggestively, as Delia shook
her head back and forth whining, “No, no, nooooooo.” She stuck her hand all
the way up into Delia’s tender flesh, forcing her to accommodate her whole
fist. Delia grunted hard as her entire body was pushed upward with the
strength of Michelle’s thrust. When her hand squeezed all the way in reaching
the limit, Michelle tweaked her claws into the flesh around Delia’s cervix
drawing blood.
Delia’s aura flared with a new plateau of pain, terror and
humiliation as she realized the horrid mutilation of her body that was about to
occur. She cried and bawled like a child.
Michelle looked at her sideways, debating whether she should
just do it, or give the girl a chance. She opted for the latter. “I will cut
out your uterus and ovaries. Then I will feed them to you. If you still live,
I will drain every drop of your blood. Do you doubt me?”
With tears streaming down her face, Delia whimpered, “No.” Michelle
eased back the tension on Delia’s throat to better hear her speak. After
several gasping breaths, she begged for her life, sobbing, “I don’t wanna die. Please
don’t kill me. I’ll leave New York. I’ll never come back. You’ll never see
me again, I promise. Please have mercy. I don’t wanna die like this. I’ll do
anything you want. Anything!”
Michelle pulled her hand partway out of Delia’s bruised
flesh and stroked her sensitive clit intimately with her thumb. Delia bucked
and squealed as Michelle tweaked and caressed her buttons in a playful mix of
pleasure and pain.
She continued begging for her life and freedom. “Please … Oh
God … Please … anything you want … just please, let me go …”
Michelle spoke low and cold, barely above a whisper, “You leave
the state. I let you have your life and your body––intact. Remember this
well. Remember every day of your miserable life that you live by my mercy. You
can still bear children by my mercy.” Michelle paused, Delia nodded
frantically in agreement.
“If I see you, hear of you, or find you have returned, I
will hunt you down. There is no place you can hide. And I will make good on
my threats.” Michelle tweaked her clit once more, a reminder. “
Entendez-moi?
Understand?
You need another demonstration?”
Delia shook her head vigorously. “No. Please, no more. I’ll
leave tonight. Now! You’ll never see me again, I swear! Please, please let
me go!” She sobbed and groveled with the spark of hope that she could survive
this night without being mutilated and scarred for life. Michelle released her
and she collapsed to the floor lying in her own urine. Delia bawled in relief,
her entire body trembling uncontrollably.
* * * *
Aaron and Michelle said their goodbyes to everyone. Heading
towards the door, Kyle caught Aaron and pulled him aside, “Hey, do you have to
take off so soon? Delia’s gone already. She was real upset. I don’t think
she’ll be back tonight.”
Aaron smiled warmly. “I don’t think Delia will return, but
I’ve gotta get going. Michelle and I have some other plans.”
Kyle nodded in reluctant acceptance, “Hey, did you hear what
happened to those two cops that were here looking for you?” Aaron shook his
head.