Same Night

Backstage at A7X Concert

6 PM

“Shads? You seen Pierre?” Chuck Comeau stood in the doorway of the Avenged dressing room, having just arrived at the stadium.

Shadows was leaning over a bag rummaging for a spare water bottle.

He glanced up at the Simple Plan drummer a slight frown on his face. “Nah. He was here earlier...but he left half an hour ago.” Straightening, water bottle clutched in his left hand, he scratched at his cheek. “Maybe he went to grab a bite to eat.”

Synyster who was sitting in the corner with his guitar propped in his lap, absently plucking at some chords, looked up. “He went looking for his fiancée.”

Shadows lip curled slightly.

Chuck didn’t see because he had turned toward the guitarist to nod to him. “Thanks. I’ll go find Chelle. Guess he’ll be wherever she is then.”

Heh...not likely... Shadows remained silent watching as the drummer left the room.

Synyster noticed and cocked an eyebrow, speaking softly. “What’re you thinking, master?”

The master vampire chuckled harshly, cold triumph evident in his deep voice. “Bouvier is nowhere near his female.”

“Oh, really? And why would that be?” Synyster cocked his head to the side.

Shadows top lip peeled back from his fangs. “I decided to fuck with her.”

The other male’s eyes widened. Then he scowled. “Damn...so that’s why it got cold all of a sudden...”

The master vampire tensed glancing at his lieutenant. “You felt it too?”

“Uhuh...he’s got a temper that son of yours...wonder where he’s gone to unleash it?” Synyster set aside his guitar and stood up, arching his back muscles with a low growl.

Shadows shrugged nonchalantly. “Not my problem.”

“No?” Synyster smirked. “What was she like?”

“Fuckin’ hot.”

“Who’s fuckin’ hot?” Zacky wandered out of the bathroom pulling his favourite Vengeance University muscle shirt on over his head.

Shadows glanced at the green-eyed vampire. “Pierre’s...ex-fiancée.”

The younger vampire cocked a questioning eyebrow. “How d’ya figure that?”

Shadows just smirked and readjusted his leather jacket.

Zacky glowered sharply at the master vampire. “Shads, what do you mean his ex?”

“Soon to be,” the master vampire mumbled in response. “If everything goes according to Rev and my plan.”

Green eyes narrowed, Zacky grunted. “And what’s that? I mean seriously...why fuck with Pierre’s fiancée?”

Shadows glared at the younger vampire. “That’s really not your business. Just you worry about yourself.”

Zacky snorted. “Right, of course. Whatever you say.” He grabbed his guitar and slung the strap over his head. “I’m going backstage.” He paused. “By the way...anyone seen Johnny? He wasn’t at sound check.”

Synyster’s gaze hardened. “That dog is never around when he’s supposed to be.”

Shadows rubbed at his face. “Let me worry about Johnny. You two had better hit the stage. The Rev’s already out there.”

The two guitarists glanced at each sensing their master’s preoccupation. So, they just nodded to him and left. As soon as they had gone, Shadows gave a low snarl and, closing his eyes, vanished to where his Were was, tracking him down with single-minded purpose.

Downtown

Johnny dashed across the street claws clattering across the bitumen as he wound his way through the throngs of people walking to the public transport on their way home. He had left Pierre’s mother at Alpha’s private abode. His younger daughter, the daughter who had not married into his clan, was there and had promised to keep Serena company.

Johnny would have stayed except a sudden burning smell hit his sensitive nostrils. Not the burning of a fire in the literal sense, but an ice-cold flare that caused his senses to tingle in warning. A premonition came to him and he knew he had to get to the source before something terrible happened.

Air rushed passed as he sniffed roughly at the surrounding scents. Pausing at the end of the night club strip he growled and dropped his nose to the pavement. He trotted along, sniffing at the scents wafting to his nostrils, when he caught the familiar aroma of steel and leather combined. His head jerked up and he froze.

Standing directly in his pathway was the master vampire, and to say he did not look happy would be the understatement of the year.

Fury radiated from Shadows whole body, frosty and menacing. From the shades covering his eyes, to the leather jacket hanging off his massive shoulders, to the black leather shoes, he was a towering figure, someone not to be messed with. The Were shrank back from him, tail tucking between his legs.

Shadows strode forward and seized Johnny by the scruff of his neck; holding on tight he pulled a length of rope from his belt and doubled it over before looping it around his neck like a leash. Several people walking passed looked over but all they did was nod and comment about keeping his dog on a lead.

Shadows smirked apologetically then glowered down at the Were. “Come on, mutt. We’re going back.”

Johnny shuddered and jerked back, whining softly as he looked in the direction he had been heading.

“No, Johnny.” The vampire growled low. “Not that way.”

The Werewolf whined louder. Something’s going to happen...gotta stop it...

Shadows tugged at the leash; Johnny yipped. Pierre...Pierre’s going to-

The master vampire silenced him with a look. Whatever Pierre’s going to do is none of your concern, Johnny...now move. You’re in enough shit as is...and I’ll be hard pressed to keep Syn off your back when we get back to the arena.

He turned to pull Johnny back down the street when he suddenly spotted Pierre striding across the street directly toward where they were standing. He tensed and pulled the Were back into the crowd of people milling past them.

Crouching down and pressing a warning hand to Johnny’s muzzle, Shadows watched as Pierre halted at the kerb where they had just been standing. He scanned the crowd for a moment, dragging tense fingers through his shaggy dark hair. Then he swung a sharp left and stalked along the pavement toward the bars that lined the furthest end of the street.

Moments after he’d disappeared, Lachelle came from the same direction, the little black and tan dog cradled in her arms.

Shadows allowed a sibilant hiss to escape his lips. Johnny whined in question.

The master vampire hooked strong fingers into the Were’s scruff and shook him gently. We have half an hour before we have to be back at the arena...so...we’ll follow the female and see what she’s up to.

Johnny whimpered. You did something to her... The young Were knew his master well enough to know he had somehow interfered with Pierre’s fiancée.

Shadows shrugged the observation aside. He did not need to answer; he never explained himself to anyone. Standing and making sure he had a firm grasp on the makeshift leash, he followed Lachelle from a distance, waiting to see what would go down.

* * * * *

Smoke drifted up from a cigarette resting in an ashtray at Pierre’s left elbow. He sat with his head down, dark eyes narrowed into frosty slits as he watched his fiancée. Lachelle stood at the doorway of the bar he had entered head swivelling from the left to the right, obviously trying to find him. He gave a low growl, cold fury like a fist in his stomach.

It was almost as if she had heard him; her eyes connecting with his. From where he was seated he could see her lips part slightly then she began to walk toward him. He remained coolly focused as she approached, shifting his weight against his left elbow and lifting the cigarette from the ashtray putting it to his lips and inhaling harshly.

“Are you smoking?” Lachelle’s tone was incredulous.

He smirked icily. “What does it look like to you, slut?”

He watched her flinch at his choice of words. He was pissed off and he was not inclined to be nice about it. He had no real idea where the attitude had come from but it was causing his veins to flow with ice. Well, actually he did know where it came from.

Seeing one’s fiancée going hot to trot with another man would definitely do it. The fact that he was a hot blooded male vampire made the emotion a whole lot stronger. The fact that the other man she had been fucking had also been a hot blooded male vampire made it a bloody crime. What she had done, that is, not his attitude.

Holding the smoke between his thumb and index finger, he lifted an eyebrow at his fiancée.

She bit her bottom lip; Pierre’s eyes narrowed at the motion. “What do you want?”

Lachelle trembled. “Pierre...I...” She shook her head. “I...um...I’m going back home...”

“Whatever.” He turned away from her stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Lachelle grimaced. “Why are you doing that?”

Pierre glanced sharply at her. “Doing what?”

“Smoking...God...you know Jay’s cancer-”

“Shut up, you don’t get to say anything to me about my brother.” He cut her off gruffly. He ground the cigarette butt into the tray. “Anyway, his cancer was not smoking related.” Pierre’s words were clipped, hard. He added silently in his mind, and I’m a vampire, so I can’t get cancer...

He looked away staring into the sparse group of people scattered around the bar. It was too early for the place to be busy just yet. Still, he scanned the place thoroughly his gaze finally settling upon a slight woman right at the back. She had long blonde hair, just like his fiancée’s.

Lachelle followed his gaze then looked at him. “What are you doing here?”

Pierre glowered at her. “I’ll tell you that, if you tell me why you were fucking Shadows.”

Lachelle gulped back a sharp retort wondering for a moment how he had known then remembered vaguely that someone had seen them in the storeroom. Shifting on her feet and glancing back toward the door [she had left Delilah tied up outside], she cleared her throat nervously, wringing her hands in front of her.

“Pierre he...” Lachelle paused; she had been about to say that Shadows had forced her, but that wasn’t right. Was it? Confusion passed across her face.

Pierre cocked an eyebrow. “He what, Lachelle?”

She shook her head uncertainty clouding her eyes. “Matt was just...” Her mouth went dry and she rubbed at her eyes. “Damn it, Pierre.”

“Tell me about it, sweetheart.” Pierre’s voice was cold. He was angry and Lachelle could feel it, but she didn’t really know how to respond to it.

Pierre had no such issues though and he shifted to face her fully. “Give me your hand.” His face was like stone.

She blinked at him. “Pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Lachelle swallowed hard and held out her right hand.

Pierre’s lip curled, fang flashing quickly. “The other one, sweetie.”

Her eyes widened realising what he was getting at. “Pierre...”

“Your hand, Lachelle.” He was implacable.

Lachelle chewed on her tongue but did as he asked, holding out her left hand. Pierre took hold of it and gently wriggled the ring off her finger, tucking it away in the pocket of his jeans. Then he met her gaze steadily. She trembled and looked at their joined hands. She yanked it away and rubbed it against her jeans.

Pierre watched her then grunted, turning away. “Go home, Lachelle. Just go.” There was no emotion on his face now; no inflection in his voice.

All the anger seemed to have been sucked away. He was completely blank, devoid of humanity. Not that that was surprising, he wasn’t human after all. Still it shook Lachelle to the core and she just wanted to cry. But instead, she turned and walked out of the bar without looking back.

Pierre didn’t watch her leave. His gaze was now focused on the petite blonde who had caught his eye moments earlier. Studying her from where he perched he felt his anger blooming once again, enveloping all his senses. Then another sensation, just as intense, struck through him roughly, and his fangs began to itch. At that exact same instant, he felt his cock hardening in his pants. He was aroused and he had no idea what that was about.

His fangs began to throb softly and a hint of pure honey wafted toward him, from the blonde female no less. Rising to his feet, Pierre padded across the linoleum toward the woman.

She sat at a table alone drinking from a tall glass of Midori and lemonade; Pierre could smell what she was drinking. The honey aroma intensified as he got closer to her, it was tantalising, pure, sweet...and a mix of fresh roses floated to his nostrils. He frowned at that realising in a split second that the honey was not her personal fragrance but the smell of her sex.

His nostrils wrinkled as he also smelt the alcohol that permeated her whole aura. She had obviously had quite a few drinks before then. He flickered a tongue against his fangs and stepped into the woman’s line of sight. She started slightly blinking slowly at him.

He smiled, a close-lipped expression, and slid into the seat opposite hers. “Hello there, mind if I join you here?”

The woman blinked then smiled faintly, taking the straw in her drink and sipping from it. Pierre growled in the back of his throat, the woman’s rose-tinged lips sucking softly at the straw.

She pulled her head back and tilted her head at him. “Did you just growl?”

Pierre chuckled lightly. “Maybe.”

The woman giggled. “I like that.” She licked her lips slowly, sensuously, drops of fluid wiped away by soft pink muscle.

Pierre felt his arousal punch uncomfortably at his fly. His fangs began to tingle. He registered the sensation as a warning sign. He needed to feed. Staring at the woman seated in front of him, a mixture of honey and roses drifting into his nostrils, his anger still roiling inside him, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

Tilting his head arranging his face into the most beguiling expression he could manage, he smiled at the woman, sniffing slightly. “You been here long, cherie?”

The woman sucked at her drink again realising that it was finished, the ice clinking around in the bottom. “Uhuh...yeah...been...awhile...had...a few of these...” Her speech was delicately slurred. She was delightfully intoxicated.

Pierre smirked inwardly. “Need someone to walk you out?”

The woman’s eyes met his; they were light hazel, but slightly clouded from the alcohol. He smiled more, one eyebrow lifted. The woman coughed smearing a hand across her face, looking as if she only just realised how much the alcohol had affected her.

“Uh...maybe...know anybody, mister?”

Pierre wiggled his eyebrows at her. “Well, I was thinking of heading back to my hotel...so, I could walk you out?”

The woman giggled swaying slightly on her seat, long blonde hair falling into her face. “That would be sweet of you...woo...almost fell off my chair...” She giggled more.

Pierre chuckled low and stood up moving to stand by her chair. He held a hand out to the woman; she stared at it for a long moment as if she had no idea what it was, but then she placed her palm in his larger one.

It was as if an electric shock hit the vampire; a surge of energy rushed to his groin and a single word echoed in his mind. Virgin.

Pierre’s senses sharpened instantly and he knew he had to get the woman out of the bar. Pulling the woman close to his side, she did not protest, and so he easily manoeuvred her from the bar and out onto the street. She kept giggling as he hustled her along the pavement, scanning the street until he found what he was looking for.

Glancing once behind him, Pierre jerked the woman down a dark alleyway to the left of where they were standing.

The blonde gasped. “Wha...?”

Pierre pulled her behind a large yellow dumpster and pushed her against the brick wall of the building, holding her easily. She stared up at him confusion written across her pretty face. He stared down at her conscious that his eyes were now glowing, seeing the red reflecting in her wide eyes.

He could see her inebriated mind working slowly as it eventually dawned on her that she was now in deep shit. A shot of fear spiked in her scent tickling at Pierre’s senses.

He smirked cruelly, baring his fangs as they elongated. He saw shock deepen in her eyes.

Then he leaned in close putting his mouth next to her left ear speaking in a deadly purr. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to trust strange men?”

Then before she could respond he grabbed her long hair, twisting her head to the side, exposing her slender throat to him. He braced his body before hers then with a single focused strike, sank his fangs into her jugular.

The blood hit his tastebuds in a savage burst of flavour. He groaned sucking ferociously at her neck. At the same time, he fumbled with the buckle of his belt with one hand, whilst holding her in place with his other locked in her long hair. His cock was fit to burst and he needed to get inside the woman before he exploded.

The scent of her terror and her virginal sex mingled in Pierre’s nostril’s pushing him to drink harder. He snarled as he yanked the fly down on his jeans and his erection popped out of its confines. Then he shifted, pressing his mouth tighter to the wound on the woman’s neck feeling her writhe frantically against his body. He forced the hand not holding her between her legs and up under the skirt she was wearing. He grabbed the cotton panties that obstructed his path to her sex and ripped them away.

The woman groaned hands fluttering weakly at his chest, in a useless attempt to push him away. He bit deeper, growling like an animal, as he guided his throbbing member up between her legs and pushed into her tight body. She tensed on him a sharp cry of pain and protest escaping her. He growled drinking more, the taste of her blood sparking his senses and strengthening the power that surged through his veins.

Then he pushed his hips forward relentlessly until the head of his cock pressed against a spongy barrier. He chuckled against her neck, pulling her hair tighter, the blood running thick down his throat.

Virgin...

Myriad emotions rolled over his mind and then he broke through and sank all the way into her virgin body. He grunted and pumped into her roughly, his lips still attached to her neck. The woman continued to fight feebly in his grip soft whimpers the only sound she made. Eventually even those soft cries dwindled away as she went limp between Pierre’s body and the wall.

Pierre felt, rather than saw, the life fleeing from the woman’s body and he smirked as he released into her body. Then, pulling his head away from her neck, he took a deep satisfied breath. Withdrawing he let the blonde’s drained body fall to the ground. Stepping away, he tucked his cock back into his jeans, zipping and buckling up.

Then he stretched slowly, muscles flexing, tension easing, strength and energy pouring through his whole body from the blood he had just fed upon. Licking at his fangs and lips, he inhaled, the heady scent of virginal blood still lingering on the woman’s body. Smiling faintly, he felt the anger from earlier dissipate.

Then shaking his hair and straightening his clothes, he took a deep breath before closing his eyes and vanishing from the alley secure in the knowledge that he was completely satiated. And, with the thought that Shadows had been right...

Virgin blood was something truly to be desired...

Notes