The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series) (16 page)

“You’re a demon from hell, that’s what you are!  I can
barely walk you crazy bitch!  You tried to kill me!”

Fury, instant blinding fury.  She snatched up his sorely
abused balls, pinching in tight with the tips of her claws.  She reached up
with her other hand scratching a trail of bloody welts down his
blood-splattered chest.

“Aaahhh Fuck!”  He tried to back away, but she held him in
place, anchored by his most sensitive flesh.

“Listen to me
fils
de salope!
––
son of bitch.
”  She swayed again, his face
swimming in and out of focus.  Her own voice sounded strange, slurred, like
someone else speaking.  It was a credit to her extraordinary will power that
she could function at all.

“You did this.  What did you do to me?”  The strange lilt to
her slurred question sounded like a completely different Michelle.

He pointed at the empty syringe lying on the tile at the
edge of the hot tub.  “Heroin.”

* * * *

Oso and Camacho sat in Demarco’s den watching a martial arts
action film.  Camacho had the sound cranked up loud enough for the coffee table
to vibrate with the base reverberating through the surround sound subwoofers.

Camacho yelled over the noise, “This is better than the
theater.  A little coca, unas cervezas.  Can’t do that shit in the theater
man.”  Oso snickered as he finished snorting a line off the coffee table’s glass
surface.

“This shit’s all fake.  Nobody can fly through the air like
that, its nothin but wires.”  Oso complained.  He snatched up the remote and
turned down the volume to a more tolerable level.

“Fine!  Ima go check on the boss.”

“It’s your ass Essay.”  Oso smirked, “You know he don’t
wanna be messed with when he’s gettin busy.  Just wait a little while.  You’ll
get your turn with the guerra.”

He laughed at Camacho again.  He had been bragging about the
blond ever since they arrived.  Like a kid on Christmas morning, Camacho
couldn’t wait to get his hands on the new toy under the tree.

“Why don’t you go see how she’s doin.  Make sure she’s
okay.”  Oso tried his best to keep a straight face. 

He knew Demarco would be goin at it with her for the rest of
the night.  Camacho would have to wait till tomorrow for a round of sloppy
seconds.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna take a little peek.  Make sure she’s
still alive.”  Camacho took off down the hallway from the rec room to the
sliding glass door leading out to the tiled back patio.

* * * *

Camacho stood at the sliding glass door peering through the
vertical blinds at Michelle’s backside as she humped Demarco, grinding and
popping her hips like a porno played in fast forward.  He had caught a semi,
and wondered how the hell he’d be able to match such ferocity when she stood
up, Demarco lying on the ground beneath her.  He watched as she staggered to
one side, losing her balance, swaying like a reed in the wind.

“Dis chick is already faded.”  He snorted. 
I’m gonna
make her take it in the ass.  She won’t stop me.

Then she toed Demarco, and that’s when he noticed all the
blood.  It was everywhere, on the patio, on her hands, in her hair, all over
Demarco’s chest.  And Demarco hadn’t gotten up.

“Oso!  Ven!  Oso!”  He ran back to Oso yelling at the top of
his lungs.

“She’s gonna kill him!  La puta está loca!  
Vamos!”

Oso and Camacho raced out onto the patio to a scene of insane
carnage.  She stood face to face with Demarco, holding him by the balls.  She
snapped her head to attention, snaring Oso and Camacho with her feral gaze. 
She looked at them like they were plump, juicy Thanksgiving turkeys for the
feast.

She gave them a look of hunger, the look a starving cougar
gives to a ripe young fawn.  They stood there pegged by her intensity,
deer
in the headlights
.  She was completely nude.  Her hands, face, and breasts
dripped with Demarco’s blood.  Blood ran down her belly to stop at her clean
shaven rosy wet center.

Camacho didn’t think before he reacted.  He hurled all five
foot, five inches, 160 pounds, into a full bodied hook punch.  His struck
true.  Her head snapped back sideways with a crack.  She staggered back,
letting go of Demarco.  With a ferocious roar of fury, she blinked out of
sight.

Staggering pain streaked through Camacho.  He looked down at
himself in shock.  His shirt torn open wide, blood and viscera oozed from a
deep gash starting at his navel and ending at his sternum.  His knees grew weak
and he slumped to the ground.

“Oh Dios mío.”  He whimpered.

Nobody moved.  Nobody made a sound.  Even the crickets
silenced for this one moment.

“Oso help me!  Oh God help me!”  He cried out in a sickening
whimper.

* * * *

“
Qu'est-ce que j'ai fait?
” 
She
slurred.

They looked at her in terror as she looked back and forth
between them and man on the ground.  She whispered horrified, “What have I
done?”

No one moved to help the man.  She dropped down to his prone
body.  Her hands shook as she reached out to touch him.  “
S'il vous plaît Dieu me pardonne
.” 
She asked God’s forgiveness.

He lay there at her knees crying and shaking.  He looked
into the face of death as she mesmerized him with her gaze.

“I don’t wanna die Oso, help me….”  His pleas trailed off
into a whisper as she gained control of him, leaning down an inch from his
face.  “El Ángel de la muerte.”  He whispered.

“I cannot save you, but I can take your pain.”  She cried,
tears of blood running down her face with her offer.  “It will be quick.  I promise.” 
She whispered.

He nodded in silent acceptance and began whispering a prayer
in Spanish.  Her hands caressed his face gently.  She looked up at Demarco,
hating him, hating herself for what she’d done.  For what she was about to do.

She struck, biting down deep into his jugular vein.  He
twitched and then stilled in her embrace as the wonders of her bite spread
throughout his body, replacing shock and trauma with euphoria.  She held him
tightly sucking and sucking and sucking, her naked torso undulating as she gulped
down his life.

Camacho died in utter ecstasy.  His angel of death delivered
him to heaven’s gates in his dying moment through the euphoric nirvana of her
bite.  Demarco and Oso didn’t make a move, not one twitch or sound.  They watched
silently as Camacho died in her embrace.

* * * *

Chapter 16

Demarco caught Oso’s gaze and nudged his head in the
direction of the wet-bar.  Oso glanced back down in horror at the naked woman sucking
the life from Camacho.  Demarco whispered in a hiss.  “Get another one quick!”

Oso edged over to the wet-bar, his eyes glued to Michelle
the whole time, sweat pouring down his face.  He came away from the wet-bar
with a shiny little syringe in hand.

“Tírame la!”  Demarco hissed.

Oso threw it to Demarco who snatched it out of the air.  He
slipped off the needle safety cover and stabbed it into the side of Michelle’s
neck, depressing the plunger with his thumb.

She let go of Camacho and fell to the floor heaving and
convulsing with grunts and growls.  She flew up off the ground in a flash,
tackling Demarco, tumbling across the patio in a scuffle.  She came out on top,
roaring in his face in victory.  He tried to shove her off.  She grabbed his
arms, pinning him down with that inhuman immense strength he simply could not
overcome.  Seated atop his chest, she stared at him face-to-face, unhinging her
jaw.  Her naked breasts heaved as she breathed heavily, her glazed eyes rolled
around wildly out of focus.  She shook her head, as if she could shake off the
effects of the drug.

* * * *

She cocked her head sideways trying to focus her vision on
that special spectrum of light/energy she alone could see, auras. 
Were they
trying to kill her?
  Demarco’s aura streaked through with fatigue and pain,
but not too bad off.  She looked up to see Oso staring at her wide-eyed, scared
shitless.  He wanting to bolt, but fear held him in place.  They didn’t appear
threatening.

She snapped her wide open jaw shut in Demarco’s face and
looked back at Oso.  “Why are you doing this to me?”  She started to sit up,
releasing her punishing grip on his arms.

Demarco squirmed beneath her, his naked hips sliding around
between her legs in his struggle.  It felt good.

“I like it.”  She slurred into his face with a glazed smile.

He smelled so wonderful:  fear, adrenaline, sex, blood.  She
liked it when the food got frisky.  All those wonderful scents made her hungry
for more than blood.  Demarco struggled, bucking his hips to dislodge her, his
cock sliding around her inner thighs.  She wanted it.

“Get off me you crazy bitch!”

 “I like it when you fight. 
Rendez-le plus dur.  Je le veux plus dur
. 
Make it harder!”

Giggling as he struggled, she bit him to make sure it would
be nice and hard.  As he wiggled around she latched onto him tightly and
reached down between his legs to find what she wanted.  It was already nice and
hard.

He stilled when her fingers wrapped around his erection.  In
a split second she squirmed her hips in place and slid down onto all that
wonderful hard flesh.  Releasing her bite to sit up for better reach, she
worked down onto him.  Within a few seconds his hands stopped trying to push
her away and moved to her hips, pulling.  He thrust up into her as she rode
him, grinding down on all that wonderful meaty goodness.

She closed her eyes tightly in concentration.  Slick,
sliding, pushing and grinding.  She rode hard, trying to find that force and
rhythm Aaron could give her.  She found her spot, the spot she liked.  Aaron
always knew how to hit it.  This one didn’t know.  She had to do it for
herself, arching and grinding to get that thick cock right where she needed it.

She looked down at him through hazy blurred vision going in
and out of focus.  He didn’t smell right, all soft and meaty, none of the
hard-sharp angles of Aaron’s body.  This was not Aaron.  This man could not
perform like Aaron.

After a time he began to tire.  She saw the exhaustion in his
aura, and some pain.  She had been hurting him.  She ground down onto his hips
one last time, finding that special spot she wanted to hit.  With a shudder and
a growl, she lay her head down on his chest, licking at his nipple.  She
stroked him softly with her fingertips, trying to sooth.  “Did I hurt you?”

He breathed very hard, panting even.  She must’ve been too
rough.

“I don’t have words for what you did to me.”

She looked up, a glazed dilated smile.  She kissed him, his
own blood on her lips.  He kissed her back hesitantly.

“Chingao madre, he’s still alive.  I thought you fucked him
to death.”

She noticed Oso standing a few feet away, looking
concerned.  His aura bled through with fear, but streaked with a heavy color
band of lust.  She looked down at his pants, at the bulge.  In his hand was
another one of those shiny little needles.

“What is that?”

“This is the good shit right here.”

She was up in a flash standing in front of Oso, her hands
undoing his belt to reach down in his pants.  In a second her deadly claw
wrapped around his erection.  She licked her lips.  She caught a glimmer of
moonlight reflecting off the needle as he held it up.  Wicked fast and strong she
grabbed his arm.

Anchored by his cock and his wrist, she threatened.  “Don’t
ever try to surprise me with the needle.  I am a vampire you
imbéciles!
  Don’t play with
me or I will play with you.”  She tugged on Oso’s cock and flicked her head in
the direction of Demarco laid out on the patio, limp and exhausted.

“You won’t like the way I play.”

Oso’s aura held the dark swirling colors of fear with an
edge of yellow boldness.  He offered, “You want this don’t you?”

What did she want?
  She wanted more.  More fun, more
blood, more sex.  But she missed her beloved Aaron. 
Where did Aaron go?
 
Why wasn’t Aaron here to join the fun?
  She tried to reach out for him,
but he was gone.  Nothing but black emptiness.  He’d gone far to the North,
many miles away.  He’d left her.

“Where is Aaron?  Why did he leave me?”  She felt like
crying with the horrible well of disappointment. 
Would he ever leave her? 
Could ever leave her
?

“He is mine forever.  He cannot leave.  Take me to him!”

Oso’s aura streaked with another spike of reddish-black fear
and anxiety.  “Here, this’ll make it better.  Let me give you this.  And then
I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

She could smell the drug in the needle, the smell of
wonderful reckless abandon.  It wouldn’t hurt to let him give it to her.  Then
he would take her to Aaron.  “
Oui
. 
I like that very much.”

“You gotta let go.  I need both hands.”  She had been
holding his wrist and cock the whole time.  She let go of both.

“
Je
veux plus.
”  He didn’t seem to understand her.  She growled, “I want
more, and then you will take me to Aaron!”

He smirked, fear and boldness intertwining in his aura.  “Give
me your arm.”

She did.  In a moment he had slipped the needle in and given
her a fantastic blast of happiness.  He was right there in her face as she growled
and moaned, leaning into his chest.  She could smell his fear and arousal.  His
pants were undone.  His heart beat strong and fresh against her cheek.  His
hands reached around to hold her close, erection pressed hard against her belly. 
Time to play with Oso.