The Nightlife: Paris (The Nightlife Series) (16 page)

“I don’t need the money that bad! 
Non merci!
”

Urvashi snagged her by the arm, “He’s not finished.  Get in
the water or I throw you in.”  Her grip dug in tight, and her eyes spoke of
things better left unsaid.

“Two hundred euros.”  Sophie’s bottom lip quivered.  Her nerve
barely held as she negotiated to sell her body to the wild man in the pool.

“I will put you on the street naked if you don’t get in the
water, now.”

“One hundred fifty euros.”

Urvashi spun and flicked her wrist, sending the blonde
prostitute flying through the air to land in the water in a perfect belly
flop.  Then she pulled Dulce from Aaron’s embrace and dragged her from the pool.

“That one.”  She directed Aaron to Sophie who emerged from
the water full of spitfire and cuss.

Aaron growled at his new victim, eyes glazed with fever.  He
glided through the water towards her.  His growl cut short with a word. 
“Michelle?”

Sophie backed up, scrambling towards the tiled steps of the
pool, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her in.  “Michelle?”

His captive stiffened as he sniffed at her neck like a dog.

“He thinks you are his lost love!”  Urvashi laughed out loud,
clapping, highly entertained.

“I don’t care what he thinks!”  Sophie sputtered.

Then he kissed the prostitute, cutting off any further
protest.  He pulled her up tight against his chest, his hands roaming over her
body, slipping off her clothes as his relentless kiss deepened.

In a moment he had Sophie’s skirt hiked up and pinned her
against the side of the pool.  “Michelle!”  He cried out in anguish and slammed
his cock all the way into her.

“Mon dieu!”
 
He slammed her again and again, lifting her into the air with each thrust. 
“Bon sang!”

Urvashi considered that he could feasibly break the woman in
half if he treated her like his precious Michelle.  Humans were not as
resilient as vampires.  She watched, fascinated, wondering if he was strong
enough to fuck her to death.  It looked like he just might.

She screamed and clawed at his back as he rammed it in
harder and faster, all his wonderful tightly defined muscles flexing as he
fucked her stupid.  But he wasn’t feeding.

“Just bite her and get on with it!”

He glanced at her.  His eyes seemed to focus for a second, a
moment of lucidity.  He looked back to the woman in his arms.  Urvashi read it
in his mind, the spike of disappointment at his realization that this was not
Michelle.

  She spoke directly into his mind.

He bit Sophie hard in the neck and buried his cock to the
hilt.  Mercifully, the woman passed out.  Once more, he backed off from his
feed after a couple minutes, showing a strangely uncharacteristic self-control. 
What a curious creature, an apex predator with restraint
.

He held her close, delicately, as if he really cared about
this woman.  Urvashi touched his shoulder, imparting an empathic sedative.  He
looked up at her, the depths of his despair evident as tears of blood slid down
his face.

“Give her to me.  We are finished.”

He handed the woman to Urvashi, and she pulled Sophie from
the water.

The drenched woman awoke to mutter something slurred,
heavily drugged on his bite. 
“Il
n’y a qu’un bon heur dans la vie, c’est d’aimer et d’être aime.”
 
There is only one happiness in life, to love and be loved.

“How quaint, a prostitute who quotes George Sand.”

Urvashi laid the woman on the bathroom floor and hit the
autodial on her cell phone.  “Renault, please remove the women.  And tomorrow
night, no blondes.”

This obsession of his could not be allowed to continue.

* * * *

Chapter 23

Aaron awoke to a bed shroud brushing across his chest, the
soft fabric billowing in the night breeze.  The sliding glass door at the other
end of the room stood open to a balcony and the sounds of the street below
drifted in.  He sat up in the king-sized bed and realized he had no clothing.

“Naked.  I hate waking up naked in strange places.”

A white terrycloth bathrobe lay across the nearby chair.  He
slipped it on and tied the sash.

The room looked very expensive, some kind of commercial
designer thing.  He could almost smell the wads of money spent on interior
decorating.

“What the hell did I get myself into this time?”

Questing for answers, it all came back in a flash. 
Michelle’s mutilated body in his arms, his helplessness, a terrible sense of loss
and grief, then pain and confusion.  He slumped into the chair as the memories
assaulted him.  The grief squeezed his heart, bringing a choking sob.  It was
almost like losing her again.

He needed fresh air.  The balcony had plenty of it, and a
phenomenal view to boot.  Gripping the stone railing, watching cars slide by
and people strolling along the streets, he recalled shadowy memories of how he
came to be in this place.

“Urvashi.”

The moment he spoke her name, his mind reached out to her,
several miles away.  A vision flashed, dark plush leather seats, the interior
of a moving vehicle, a limousine.  The lights of the city swept past the windows
in a streaky blur.  Urvashi traveled down the Rue Etienne Dolet on her way back
home, to him.

.>
 
She spoke directly into his mind.

“Holy shit!”  His mind snapped back as he held tight to the
railing to keep his balance.

The implications struck him like a splash of ice water,
chilling in its startling truth.  They had a psychic bond.  How else could they
connect over such a distance?  But what did it mean?  Had he become her slave,
like with Michelle?

“Out of the frying pan and into the fire.”  He physically
jerked back, hardly able believe it.  “You fucking idiot!  I’m such an idiot!”

He searched through his memories to piece it together.  “How
the hell did this happen?”

She had snatched him up from the rooftops and brought him
here.  And then she wrapped him around her little finger with one shot of her
wicked blood.  He needed answers.  Who or what the hell was this strange woman? 
A laptop sat on a heavy oak table, beckoning to be tapped for information.

“Google.”

He slid the laptop open to a desktop image, an ancient city
of stone in a tropical rain forest.  The place was overgrown by vines and trees
wrapping around the ruins in a choke hold.  Angkor Wat.  He’d seen it before on
the Discovery channel.

He opened up the internet browser.  A Google search bar sat
conveniently in the upper right corner of the program, waiting for him. 
What
was that thing they called her?
 
Apsara
.  He typed
Apsara
and hit enter.

A massive list of websites came up.  The first one he
clicked on brought up a page detailing the history of classical Cambodian
dance, and an image very similar to the desktop photo of Angkor Wat.  His
memory clicked.  “That’s right, this is in Cambodia.”

He scanned through the site, mostly about the history of the
Khmer people.  They had carved Apsaras into the bas-reliefs and pillars of the
city.  Apsaras were defined as celestial nymphs.

“Oh.  My.  God.  This shit is for real.”

The rest of the site detailed the ancient court dance
rituals and their recent revival since the 1900’s.  He clicked on the next
site.  He found this page much more to the point.  “Apsaras are the nymphets of
the east … their task is not to reward, however, but to tempt and seduce.” 
Scanning past tales of various Hindu myths, he found her.  “Urvashi was said to
be the most beautiful Apsara of all.  Somehow, she had invoked the wrath of
Lord Brahma, and was cursed to descend from heaven.”

“Well isn’t that fuckin’ awesome.  Of all the things in the
world, I gotta get tangled up with a fallen angel.”  He shook his head.  “Boy,
Aaron, when you screw up, you do it big time.”

His hands trembling, he backed up to Google and typed
Apsara Urvashi
and hit
enter.  Wikipedia popped up.  “She’s in Wikipedia?”  He almost choked.

He clicked on it.  Born of Indra’s court, the celestial court
of the Hindu religion, Urvashi was considered, “The eternal woman whom man can
only desire, but never possess,” characterized as, “Extremely moody, seductive,
and jealous.”

“Perfect.  Sounds like a royal bitch.”

How much of the Vedic myths were embellishment and how much
based in fact?  Obviously they weren’t all myths.  Some of the mythical
descriptions rang true.  He had seen her shape shifting capacity firsthand. 
And powerful.  She hummed with power, like an electric conductor of sorts.  And
she had seduced him quite effectively.

Staring at the screen deep in thought, he felt her nearby,
that nondescript presence, a blankness moving towards him.  He turned in the
chair to face her.  She stood three feet away in a flowing cream-colored dress,
something designer, expensive, and definitely complementary to her hourglass
curves.  His words caught in his throat as her staggering beauty tripped his
tongue.

“So … should I be calling you Master?”  Tinged with sarcasm,
it was a serious question.

“You’re a quick one.”  She smiled appreciatively, looking
pleased with the intelligence of her new slave.

“I have my moments.  But I wasn’t quick enough to escape you.”

Her features turned warm, and a calm seeped over him,
anxiety and uncertainty drifted away.  He sighed with the wonderful sensation,
his shoulders loosened and relaxed as his burdens lifted.

“Is this who you really are?  This face?”

“It’s the look I prefer.  For now.”  She smiled again, and
he knew exactly why the myths raved of her beauty.  He had grown a semi just
from her damn smile.  The woman was sensuality personified.

When she laid her hand to rest on his shoulder, up close and
personal, his cock stiffened instantly.  The bathrobe did a poor job of hiding
it.

“How do you feel?”  She smirked, taking in his obvious
arousal.

“I’m confused, not sure what the hell is going on, or who or
what you really are.  But if you’re asking if I am okay, then yeah, I’m
great.”  He adjusted his cock slightly in a failed attempt to hide his raging
hard-on.  The damn thing sprang right back up, pointing straight at her.

She rubbed her thigh across his arm as she ran her fingers
through his hair.  “You are a beautiful man.”  Her electric fingers traced a
wonderful sensation across his scalp working down to his jawline.  “I think I
will keep you around for a while.  Try not to ask too many questions.”

Her every move spoke of possession, ownership.  While he
sensed her power over him and resented it severely, her hands still felt
wonderful.  She could make his life very pleasurable, if he didn’t piss her
off.  He felt like a stray dog snatched off the streets, held prisoner to be
fed and coddled, as long as he behaved.

“Could you enlighten me here?  I am trying to get a grip on
this … thing between us.”

She glanced at the webpage he’d been looking at.  “I think
you know enough.  More than you should.  A girl has to have her secrets every
now and then.”

“Right.”  He didn’t know what kind of hell a fallen angel
could bring down on his head if he made her angry, but he couldn’t stand
playing this game for much longer.  “So, what happened when I drank your
blood?  Why do we have this connection?”

“Questions, questions.”  She closed her eyes, as though
looking for some source of inner peace or wisdom.  She pegged him with her
teardrop eyes.  “By some miracle you have survived the infection.  You are
bound to me.  Centuries ago this would have made you my slave.  The world has
changed, and that is not an acceptable practice.”

Her magic fingers danced through his hair again, bringing an
entrancing sensation that traveled straight to his erection.  Her pheromones of
arousal signaled that she wanted him too.

“Though I am inclined to keep you close for a number of
reasons, I am not your
master
.  A mentor perhaps.  There is much I can
teach you, if you listen, and be patient.  And I am not unkind to my men.”

She slipped her fingers down the nape of his neck to his
collarbone, and kept on going inside his robe, sliding down around his nipple. 
He wanted her hands lower, but the electric tingle on his nipple wreaked havoc
on his reasoning processes.  She had him
going
.

He caught his breath and fought hard against the raging
desire to tackle her to the ground and bury his cock in her.  “While I am sure
I will appreciate what you have to offer, you’ll have to forgive me if I don’t
celebrate.  I’m not excited about being anyone’s property.  Been there, done
that before.”  Grief for Michelle flashed, but Urvashi ran her fingers down the
back of his neck and it drained out of him with her caress.

He could hardly fight off her overpowering seduction.  His
cock flexed, ready for her hands, her body, anything warm and wet.  Another minute
of this and he would surely shred her clothes where she stood.

“You mustn’t be so cynical.  It makes you look menacing,
unattractive.”  She sighed.  “You enjoyed my company before, why fight it now?”

Deliberate and calculated.  She played his body like a damn
harp, tweaking his strings to make him sing with aching desire.  He hated the
manipulation, just like he had resented when Michelle did it.  Too late,
Urvashi had already taken him to the edge of his self-control.

She leaned down to whisper and her lips brushed sparks over
his ear.  “Give it to me, Aaron.  I want all of your passion, your grief, your
resentment, your desire.  I can absorb all of it.”

She took his hand and pulled him from the desk, drawing him
to the bed.  His control all but completely gone, he shed his robe and helped
strip her clothes.  Zipper, bra, panties, his hands shook with need as he tore
at her clothing.  Finally, her luscious golden body beckoned in an enticing
surge of smooth curves.  He explored it all.

He consumed her mouth, smothering her with kisses.  Tongues
and bodies wrestled for position and they toppled onto the bed.  She flipped
him and he flowed with her, rolling her over onto her back.  They tumbled,
slipping and sliding, kissing, hands groping.  He couldn’t say how, but her
hands seemed to caress him all over simultaneously.  She pulled on his ass, his
shoulders, tugged on his cock, stroked his balls, and yet pulled his head down
into a deeper kiss.  He moaned into her lips, shuddering as her touch danced
all across his body, electric snakes writhing around him.  She could have sprouted
eight arms like a Hindu goddess for all he knew.  He briefly wondered if she
had given rise to those myths as well.

And then she wrapped her legs around his waist and he buried
his hard cock in her hot, moist, electric-tingling embrace.

“Oh damn that’s good.”  He growled into her ear as she took
all of him.

The sensation so intense, unlike anything he’d ever known. 
This must be how she had seduced men of all ages and races, emperors, princes,
kings, presidents.  Her power flowed up through his cock and across his whole
body, coursing in and out as she held him tight, grunting with his relentless
thrusts.

Her power surged into him, and he slammed her harder and
faster.  She made him feel so alive, so strong.

She started chanting in the strange tones of Hindi, her hips
rising to meet him.  He slapped and pounded her luscious golden thighs, her
grunts and melodic chants goading him on.  He gave her every ounce of desire,
frustration, grief, fury and resentment.  His release unloaded a bottomless
well of depression into Urvashi.

“Michelle!”

She took it all, listening to him scream as he buried his
cock with all his strength.  His passionate fires eventually burned out and he
collapsed into her soothing embrace.  Barely able to speak from his exertion,
he breathed in her ear, “Can you forgive me?  I just miss her
sooo
much.  And …”  He recalled how she had played her dirty trick the first time
they met, wearing Michelle’s face.  He considered asking her to do it again, to
play the role, just to hold Michelle in his arms one more time.

She read him so easily, knew what he wanted.  She pulled his
chin up to look him in the eyes with her temptation.  “I will do it if you
want.  I can be your Michelle.”

Bleeding tears on Urvashi’s shoulder, he knew it would only
make matters worse to play this sick game.  “No.  She’s gone, and I need to
accept that.”

She held him, stealing his grief, giving him back a
wonderful zing of crackling power with her every touch.  He could lie in her
arms like this endlessly.  He could almost forget Michelle.  Almost.

In the early morning, sprawled across the bed, exhausted,
sated, cuddling together in sweet contentment, she sat up and tugged on his
arm.  “Come, I want to show you something.”

Daylight approached, with it the heavy lethargy and a good
dose of fear.  “I can’t, I must sleep.  We need to block the windows now.”

He stood up, panicky, he had waited too long and the sun sat
just over the horizon.

“Hush, trust me.”

She took his hand and pulled him to the balcony, to stand in
their bathrobes in the dark grey twilight.  In seconds the grey turned
purplish, signaling the coming light.  He turned to run back into the room and
she snapped, “STAY HERE.”

He couldn’t leave her side.  She had used their bond to
entrap him there to die a horrible death by sunlight.  “You want to kill me? 
You fuck me all night long just to kill me in the morning?”