Raindrops cascaded down the windowpane, creating a soft patter. I traced a path with my fingertip and stared out at the torrential down pour. The streets flooded, humans below covered their heads and ran. I smiled, leave it to a race made almost entirely of water to fear it and run. The mass of raindrops falling from the sky reminded me of the sight of flames flying in the air. I shook my head. The magic aided my sight, but everything was still shadows and impressions.
"Dr. Hellias?" A quiet voice called from behind me.
I turned from the window, to see a blushing young man of about twenty standing in my office doorway. As I took in his rain-soaked appearance, he turned a deeper crimson and brushed his dark hair out of his lightly coloured eyes. That was the most impression I got out of colours. I smiled and gestured to the chair across from my desk.
"How can I help you, Mr. Adams?" I inquired, recognizing him from my Old Testament and Mythology classes. I sat in my office chair, crossed my right leg over my left, adjusted my black business skirt, and waited patiently. He scrambled to the small seat and I saw him lower his gaze to my crossed legs, he stammered.
"P-Please call me Tate. I-I was h-hoping…" he trailed off, swallowing heavily. The scent of his arousal bombarded my nostrils, my jaw ticked, and I released a small sigh and fixed my large glasses. I gestured for him to continue, expecting I know the question that at least one student per week asks me.
"…Will you take me on as a research assistant? Officially?" He finished.
I dropped my crossed leg to the floor in surprise. This was new. A smirk played at my red, bow shaped lips.
"Tate, you realize my last three RA's basically ran off screaming?" I scoffed. Playing with demons is all fine and dandy… when it's theoretical. Tate looked up with a fierce glint in his eye.
"I can handle it. I'll do whatever you need. Coffee, filing, late night cemetery soiree's, I'll even shine your bike." He begged. I rolled my eyes at the last two.
"Why do you want to be my assistant, Tate?" I arched a brow and bit my cheek. Mulling over the idea.
It would be useful to have help with research, considering the vast amounts of translations and documents my research requires. Tate smiles and pulls a book out of his bag and drops it ceremoniously on to the table. I run my hands over the smooth surface, I bit my lip, pretending I could read the words on the page. I typed and wrote from memory, and I wore green contacts to cover the appearance of my eyes, my sight was a closely guarded secret. Truth be told, I would need an assistant to help with grading papers.
"I bet you can guess what it is." His voice chimed. A smile quirks at my lips. Daemonologica: Modern Perception of Ancient Ritual and the Damned by Dr. K. Hellias. I glanced up at Tate.
"Open it" He demanded. I lifted a well-loved cover, and gasped, brushing my fingers over the cover page. I knew what was there. My image was placed there, my long black curls gracefully swept over my shoulder, my appearingly green eyes smiling up at the camera. His voice read the inscription aloud to me.
"Tate,
Our histories guide our future. The world is what we are willing to see.
Study hard,
Kali"
"You bought my dissertation." My smile reached my eyes and I softened slightly.
"When I was fifteen, I did nothing but read. I was obsessed with Occultism and Mysticism, and you being brave enough to enter a field no one took seriously, you were my hero. I'd love nothing more than to learn from you." He finished his grand speech. He rested his arms on the edge of my desk and tried to look stern. I folded my hands beneath my chin and arched a brow.
"One term probation, you survive without complaint and we'll discuss the future." I stated, tugging at the sleeves of my pink cashmere sweater.
"Oh, Doc. I'll complain, but I'll never fail you." His lips quirked up in a grin.
"Good enough for me." I reached out my hand to shake his. He took it.
As the bells of the university tolled eight o'clock PM, I exited my home to the serene dark cobblestone streets. I strode to the parkade and swung a leg over my shiny black motorcycle. I zipped up my leather jacket and fastened my helmet. My muscles were tense, my stomach grumbled, and a sharp canine prodded my lower lip. I was restless and itching for a fight. As my beast rumbled to life, I felt her purr between my legs. I set out into the night.
I parked a little way from the bar. I pretended to look in my review mirror. I puckered my blood red lips, and ruffled my Stygian black curls. I used the shadows reflection to adjust my coloured contacts, insuring they were in place and hiding my pupil-less eyes. I knew that now in the mirror my eyes, a brilliant emerald, stared back at me. I unzipped my leather jacket, feeling the cool night air on my skin. The air was thick with tension tonight.
In the corner of my vision, a shadow skittered past. I shoved my aviators on my face and spun, staring at the empty streets that faced me. I listened carefully, only to be met with the rushing sounds of traffic nearby. I palmed the silver blades I kept strapped to the inner sleeves of my jacket, then slid my hand down the thigh of my tight black jeans to check the knife strapped there. My heavy leather boots pounded against the pavement as I walked towards the entrance of the crowded bar. My sword was hidden tucked beneath my jacket, hilt hidden by my thick black hair.
Music pounded, and flashing lights spilled out on to the streets through the glass windows. In the reflection of the glass, I could have sworn a shadow followed me. With one hand, I shoved open the entrance and strode in.
I inhaled the scent of the crowd. Lust, joy, agony, jealousy, anger all assailed my senses. I shivered at the onslaught. The lights were dimmed, and the dance floor was packed. Bodies sweat and ground against each other, lovers overwhelmed with passion caressed and released their base desires on the dance floor. As I strode past the gyrating bodies, they became more frenzied, animalistic. I could hear men growl deeply and see them clutch at their partners, but their eyes followed my swaying hips.
"Kali-Ma!" A jovial cry came from behind the bar. My lips quirked at the Indiana Jones reference.
"Hey, Dean." I quipped and lifted a hand in greeting. I lifted my shades and placed them in my hair.
The large man with shaggy, dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes grinned and approached for a hug. His strong arms briefly wrapped around my waist.
"On the prowl tonight?" He smirked and let his hand run down to my hip.
"What can I say? A girl's got to eat." I laughed good naturedly and stepped away from him. He smiled and I caught the glimpse of a sharp fang. His eyes crinkled, unfazed by my rejection of his proximity.
"Well we both know it's good for business when you come in. Let me know if you need anything, happy hunting." With an exaggerated wink he disappeared in the crowd. As an succubi demon, I could frenzy the emotions of the people around me, feed off of the simmering rage and turmoil, as well as the pleasure.
Dean has run this bar, The Devil's Hoof, for over a century. As a Limani – a vampire without a coven – he chose to create a place away from inter-species politics where anyone could come to unwind and let loose. I ordered a Jack and Coke from another bartender, and perched myself on a stool, one leg crossed over my other. I looked out over the crowd, spotting the telltale air distortions caused by fae glamour. I smiled softly, watching the carefree rapture of the dancers. The lust and emotion in the air fuelling my energy. Yet this was only a snack. I needed a main course.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" A deep voice rumbled next to me. I peered up through my lashes to see a muscular man with deep glowing eyes, and dark buzzed hair. He placed his drink on the counter next to me and perched on a stool. His sharp features stared at me intently. I arched a brow. Demon. I smirked and turned to face him more fully.
"What is that?" I asked, leaning forward to close my lips around my straw. His eyes darkened and he swallowed.
"How happy they all are. How free." He leaned close to my ear to whisper over the music. I turned my head, so my face was inches from his as I pretended to stare into his eyes.
"What I wouldn't give to feel that freedom." I smiled and placed a hand on his firm bicep. His lust overwhelmed my senses, I was drowning in it. The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk, and his lips whispered across the side of my neck.
"Maybe I can set you free." A gentle kiss along my collarbone. My nails dug into his bicep gently.
"A bold claim, sir." I teased and moved my hands to his chest. He placed a hand on my hip, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the bare skin of my midriff.
"Dance with me." He commanded in my ear. I faked a giggled and pulled back to look into his eyes.
"How about we cut the bullshit and you just take me home." I didn't need his name. I didn't care. He grabbed my hand and immediately pulled me towards the exit.
Perfect.
I didn't see the shadow follow us out the door.