Since this is a month of editing, I’ve put the Tri-star stories in my editing pool. In the meantime, I wrote this based on an idea while at work. Then Daredevil released, and I got distracted before finishing it.
Viktor looked deep into the blue of her eyes. She looked back, her lips trembling at his mere proximity. His hand at her waist made her shiver, he could feel his hold on her heart, feel the pump of her blood despite so little contact.
“I’m going to do it now, Deborah” He whispered.
She didn’t fight, she couldn’t fight. The predator within him had her cornered there, at the edge of the party. Despite the music in the background, despite the small talk all around them, she was trapped in his world. All she could do is move closer, beg for his embrace, and hope he was merciful.
Deborah turned her head, and wiped away her blonde hair to expose her neck. Her eyes were still locked on his, and Viktor nearly lost himself when he saw her swallow in anticipation.
“Be gentle,” She said.
What foolish words. She knew why she was here, and she knew what pain was in store for her. Still, she would dare ask for anything less than domination. His hand wrapped around her waist, and he pulled her in close. He could smell her now, feel her heat against his body. What before only the monster could sense, now the man could as well.
Viktor’s mouth opened. A hiss escaped his lips as he bared his fangs. He held there for a moment, drank her in as she was, her innocent beauty, her unblemished skin, the virgin personified. His fangs sank in, and Deborah whimpered and squirmed in his arms.
Then she grabbed his arm and squeezed it so tight he thought it would snap.
“Ouch, ow you fucktard, that hurts!” She screamed before Viktor let up.
She put a hand over her neck. Her face was screwed up and red with some mix of what Viktor could only guess was anger and frustration, “Did you actually draw blood? Am I bleeding? Asshole.”
Viktor opened his mouth to stammer some response, but he felt the jaws of anxiety clamp down on him. He could only open his eyes wide and gesture at her, as if a psychic conversation was going to transpire.
He looked around the room, and saw that others were looking at them now as Deborah’s screams were echoed around the room by whispers of gossip.
“Calm down,” Viktor said, trying to smile.
Deborah punched him in the arm with her free hand, then pulled the cute blue blazer on her shoulders tighter. She punched again, then moved to leave.
“Deborah wait,” Viktor gasped as he took hold of her hand, “Please, I’ll do better, I’m sorry.”
She shook him free, “Call me when you do, ‘Viktor’,” she said with venom as she walked away.
Viktor tried to play it cool, but he could feel eyes on him. He put his back against the wall, pulled the black faux-leather close to his neck, and sneered. The low light would hide the fact that he was crimson red, and soon they would find something new to talk about.
“What was that, Vic,” Said Damien.
Viktor looked over and saw his ‘friend’. Wearing a black wifebeater and makeup that even Viktor found gaudy. Around his wrists were spiked bracelets, and whenever he chewed that bright bubblegum in his mouth you could see his fangs.
“Don’t want to talk about it,” Viktor said.
Damien put his back against the wall, “I thought Deborah was in the bag. You guys have been talking for a while now right?”
Mostly online. It was easier to be Viktor there, where he could think about what he was going to say before he posted it. In person, he was always afraid Deborah was going to laugh at him. Instead, she usually laughed with him, let him goof up a little, even gave him leeway when he was trying to remember important character names.
“Just drop it,” Viktor growled, showing his teeth.
Damien, even in character, was an asshole. It wasn’t that he didn’t know when to back down, he just didn’t seem to care. He had almost been killed a few times before, mostly when he thought it would be funny to show his fangs to a prince, or pick a fight with an enforcer.
Damien hissed back at him, and by rote they found themselves standing off against each other, their teeth out and hands at their sides as if a fight were about to break out.
“Hey you two,” shouted the slightly rotund enforcer, Gregor, from across the room, “Don’t make me bust out the UV lamps.”
They both calmed down, and Viktor felt justified in turning his back on Damien. Anyone willing to nearly get him in trouble with a hall enforcer was too much trouble for one night.
“Come on,” Damien said, “I’ve been with you how long? We’ve risen up the ranks together, you’ve saved me countless times. Let Damien pay you back, that little doll is yours to have, Vic. She was just sitting on your plate, let me get her back on the fork.”
His dialog wasn’t wrong, but something about hearing Damien talk about Deborah that way made Viktor want to punch him in the mouth. He was a natural at it, that complete disregard for human life.
Viktor looked over his shoulder, and Damien popped his gum, then grinned. When Viktor didn’t acquiesce immediately, Damien wiggled his eyebrows.
Viktor sighed, “Okay.”
Damien let out a groan of delight and put an arm around Viktor’s shoulder, “Oh yeah, time to get Viktor his virgin.”
“If she’s even still here,” He said. He felt deflated, beaten down first by Deborah, and now by Damien. It was hard to keep up the hardheaded confidence he knew Viktor should have.
Damien got on his toes and looked around the party, then pointed.
“There she is, talking with Regi,” Damien said with a shrug.
Viktor’s spine went stiff, “Regi?”
As in Prince Regi?