***
Twenty minutes to ten, Derek headed to Iron Casket in his ’59 Rover. He arrived and parked a few blocks away. He got out of the car and approached the impressive club. Iron Casket was a square-shaped, five-story building that had been painted black and had random pieces of gray, rusted metal stuck to its exterior. Even the windows had been painted black. The overall effect was that the club looked sinister and foreboding. Perfect for a Goth club.
The club’s name Iron Casket had been crafted out of metal and attached to the building directly above the front entrance. Also attached to the building and directly below the club’s name was a piece of metal that had been shaped to resemble a casket. A skeletal hand could be seen emerging from the casket’s half open lid.
Derek approached the club and spotted a few vampire wannabes with fake fangs in the line to get in. He thought it was ironic that a real vampire was about to pass through the club’s front door. Standing close to the front of the line, Derek spotted Garth and Malakye. Garth was hard to miss at his towering height of six-eight. He was also really beefy these days and looked like he could snap a tree trunk in half with his bare hands. He was wearing a simple black, T-shirt, faded jeans, and sneakers. Garth had spiked-up orange hair and gold eyes.
Malakye was in full Goth mode. He was the shortest of the group at six-three. Malakye had long black hair, bright emerald green eyes and all of his skin was covered with white makeup. He was lithely muscular, but less so than Derek. Malakye was wearing a black shirt, black leather trench coat, black leather pants and biker boots with lots of straps and buckles. Those who didn’t know Malakye personally would have been intimidated by his appearance.
For this ‘Goth’ occasion Derek had decided to just change his shirt, and so was wearing his black, long-sleeved, silk shirt. He also had on a leather jacket with a hood, just in case he had any Druid Vampire Hunter stuff to do later that night and didn’t want his face being seen if there were too many human witnesses around. Especially the cops.
Derek raised his hand in greeting. “Hey, guys. You do realize the line starts all the way back there.” He pointed to the end of the line.
“Hey, bro. We’re in luck because Roman got us on the VIP List.” Garth explained as he shot a pitying look at the poor souls who still needed to have their IDs checked and pay the cover charge.
“Ah.” Derek nodded and looked at Malakye, who was looking very uncomfortable and unhappy. He raised an eyebrow at the kid. “What’s doing, Mal?”
Malakye frowned. “I don’t want to be here.” He looked around nervously and lowered his voice. “There are too many humans here. I don’t trust them.”
Derek chuckled. “It’s called ‘living on planet earth’. Unfortunately.” He clapped Malakye on the shoulder. “But don’t worry, you’ll fit right in.”
Malakye let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, right.” He shuddered, just thinking about what had happened the last time some humans had gotten their hands on him. They’d beaten the crap out of him when they’d caught a glimpse of his freakish, glowing skin. He wrung his hands together, still looking nervous.
Garth slung his huge arms around their shoulders, and guided them through the front door. “Come on, guys. The club’s inside.”
Garth, Derek and Malakye walked past the bouncer and entered Iron Casket. The interior of the club was spacious with tall ceilings, and the walls were also painted black. The lights inside of the club were pretty dim, and oddly enough the tables had lit candelabra on them. The flickering candlelight cast spooky shadows on the club’s walls for an interesting effect. Strobe lights also added a nice effect to the dance floor that had artificially generated mist crawling across it.
Derek couldn’t help but think that Becca Thorn would probably consider this place a great photo op. She’d probably want to film an entire movie there.
The tables were made out of metal and shaped to resemble caskets. Simple metal chairs were positioned around the tables. Strange props like skulls, roses, and fake snakes decorated the club here and there. Derek noticed a sitting area with antique furniture. Red, velvet drapes hung from the windows, and the glass panes had been painted black. This was all very convenient for him in case he ever got stuck there during the day.
It was as if the club had been decorated for Halloween, but it always looked like that. Everyone inside of the club was dressed like a Goth, punk, vampire, witch or demon. It was slightly bizarre to see all of the ‘humans’ looking ‘nonhuman’ for once.
However, as Derek observed the crowd, he noticed that a few of the ‘vampires’ were actually real vampires. What the hell? Derek stared. They weren’t even wearing sunglasses to hide their red eyes. The humans must have thought they were wearing colored contacts, but still. They were being incredibly audacious, walking around in plain sight like that.
Garth immediately picked up on Derek’s unease and put a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”
Derek shook his head, “Nothing.” His friends didn’t know about his ‘side job’ as a Druid Vampire Hunter and that at night he prowled the San Francisco streets and kept the city safe from vampiric threat. His friends had enough problems, to add his own to their plates.
It was a good thing Derek had decided to wear long-sleeves that night or else the vampires would have recognized him for what he was and would have attacked him right then and there. He’d have to keep an eye on those vampires tonight and make sure they didn’t attack any humans. So not on my watch, suckers.
“Eeee! It’s Roman Rune!” “Look! It’s Roman!” “Roman, we love you!” The sound of a bunch of females going crazy was heard next.
Derek, Garth and Mal’s attention was drawn to the stage towards the back of the establishment where their friend Roman was walking up on stage. Roman was an incredibly handsome and flashy guy with his blood-red hair, and sparkling golden eyes. He was wearing a red silk shirt, tight brown leather pants, and brown boots. A shiny golden chain dangled around his neck, and one diamond earring glittered in his right ear. He also had a fedora on top of his head to hide his curling gold horns.
Roman approached the guitar stand, picked up a red and black electric guitar, slipped the strap over his shoulder, and strummed the guitar loudly. The females present all cried out in response and he hadn’t even said anything yet.
“Hello ladies and gentlemen! Who’s ready to rock?” Roman strummed his guitar again.
“Whoo, we are!” “Eeee! Roman!” The crowd cheered.
Roman began to sing and play guitar, and the normally quiet, subdued Goth girls were going wild. As Roman continued to sing the girls appeared to become mesmerized by his deep, melodious singing voice. But this was only to be expected since Roman was a satyr. He had a natural way with women.
The trio headed over to one of the free casket tables and sat down. “So Derek is this what your new bed looks like?” Garth teased.
“Shut up, dude.” Derek grumbled. He’d heard enough vampire jokes to last him several lifetimes.
A Goth waitress approached them and in a droning voice spoke: “What can I get you guys?”
“Vodka on the rocks.” Malakye said.
“Scotch on the rocks.” Garth put in.
“A glass of Merlot, please.” Derek requested politely.
Garth and Malakye gave Derek an incredulous look.
“What? Alright, fine. A vodka on the rocks.” Derek caved to peer pressure. He missed the days when drinking wine was ‘cool’. Now people just looked at him like he was an old fuddy-duddy.
Garth slapped his back happily. “Now, we’re talking!”
“Well, lookie what we have here.” Came a familiar husky female voice that oozed sex. “An eye-candy buffet.”
Derek looked up to see none other than Nerezza Cruso - famous actress and succubus demon. She was an acquaintance of theirs. Nerezza was wearing a tight, sheer dress that resembled spider’s web. Her glorious curves were on display, and as she leaned over t
he table all three males couldn’t help but stare.
Nerezza let her pheromones ooze out of her skin and the scent of jasmine wafted through the air. Derek could feel himself getting slightly aroused. Garth shifted uncomfortably on his chair. “Hey, Nerezza.” His voice was gruff, his Scottish accent prevalent.
And Derek was positive Malakye was blushing beneath his white makeup.
Nerezza’s attention shifted to Malakye and she stared at him intently. She reached out, and stroked Malakye’s cheek. The alien trembled at her touch. “I’m surprised to see you here, Malakye. Aren’t you usually holed up in your room?”
Malakye’s eyes widened that Nerezza was actually talking to him. He was bad at dealing with females! “I-I-I-!”
“We’re popping his clubbing cherry tonight.” Garth rumbled as he took a sip of his Scotch and admired Nerezza’s assets. He found Nerezza incredibly attractive. But she was also ‘off limits’ in a way since she was a ‘friend’ of theirs.
Nerezza’s eyes glittered with mischief. “Oh, goodie. Why don’t I pop another of his cherries tonight too? Like sex.” Nerezza put her finger under Malakye’s chin and tilted his head so she could lean forward and kiss him.
Derek shoved her back, away from Malakye. “Get away from him, succubus.” Malakye was like a little brother to him. And he didn’t want Malakye getting hurt.
Nerezza trembled with delight at Derek’s rough treatment of her and turned her attention towards him next. “Ooo, so forceful. I love that in a man. Why don’t we have some fun together instead, Derek? I’m ravenous tonight.” She licked her lips as she eyed Derek from head to toe.
Derek rubbed his nose at the overwhelming scent of jasmine. It had never bothered him before…but tonight he just wasn’t feeling it. Derek let go of Nerezza’s arm. “No, thanks. And if you’re not going to behave…you should just go.” He said coldly.
Nerezza pouted and looked putout. Usually, these three males were eating out of the palm of her hand. They were her friends, and so she was just teasing them a little, as usual. She’d never actually use one of them for sex - just to steal their sexual energies. Yep, Nerezza was a succubus, a sex demon, and needed to have sex in order to survive. But that didn’t mean she was an evil witch who would use her friends.
It was strange though. Derek didn’t seem to be affected by her pheromones that night, which could only mean one thing. A cat’s paw smile formed on Nerezza’s lips as she stared at Derek. “Well, now isn’t this interesting? You’re in love.” She sat down on the chair next to Derek and gave him an intense look.
Derek flinched guiltily, and frowned at the succubus. “What the hell are you talking about, Nerezza?”
Nerezza gestured at Garth and Malakye, who were both staring at Nerezza with adoring looks on their faces. Poor Garth was even drooling at this point. “Just take a look at your friends. My pheromones are still working on them…but they aren’t working on you tonight. Which can only mean one thing - you’re in love. My pheromones don’t work on people who are I love - truly in love, you see.”
Derek’s eyes widened at her revelation, but he shook his head in denial. “That’s preposterous.”
Nerezza tapped her bottom lip with her index finger. “I wonder.” Nerezza sniffed the air. “Hmm…the woman you’re in love with is here actually. I can smell your scent on her. You’ve subconsciously marked her, Derek.”
“What!” Derek burst out.
Nerezza searched the crowd of swaying bodies dressed in black, and then she spotted a beautiful, red-haired woman dressed in a black lace dress and four-inch stilettos. The man who was dancing next to her was incredibly handsome with his spiked-up white hair, black T-shirt, long white and black leather jacket, leather pants and boots. He was wearing a belt with a skull on it, and had matching skull earrings.
The succubus pointed at Becca and Slaine triumphantly. “She’s right over there. It’s that redhead, isn’t it? Dancing with that delectable morsel. Mmm. I’d like to sample him.”
Derek followed Nerezza’s line of sight and spotted Becca and Slaine dancing together in a very sensual manner. “Becca!” Becca had left her white jacket behind and so now her outfit looked more Goth. The only thing Slaine had changed about his outfit from earlier was the addition of the skull belt, matching earrings, and the fact that he’d spiked up his hair.
“Ah, so her name is Becca. Who is she?” Nerezza leaned closer to Derek, a note of curiosity to her voice.
“Rebecca Thorn. Cyber socialite. Blogger. Writer. She’s also an…acquaintance of ours.” Derek reluctantly explained.
Nerezza snorted at that. “Acquaintance? She’s much more than an acquaintance to you, Derek. Like I said - you’re in love with her.”
At this point, Garth and Malakye had sobered up enough from Nerezza’s pheromones that they were now listening intently to what Nerezza was saying, and looking at Becca and Slaine dancing together with equal curiosity.
“Shut up, succubus.” Derek snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Besides, even if it were true, it’s really none of your business. So keep your nose out of it.”
Nerezza ignored Derek and plowed on with her questions. “And the white-haired man…who is he? He smells like a vam-” She was saying but Derek cut her off.
“His name is Slaine Morvyn. And he’s dangerous. That’s all you need to know about him. So stay away from him.” Derek said firmly.
Nerezza tilted her head at Derek thoughtfully. “Why don’t you go over there and cut in for a dance with Becca?”
Derek gave Becca a longing look, but shook his head vehemently. He clenched his hands into fists. “No, I can’t.”
“Well, I can. Coward.” Nerezza declared before she stood up from the table and began to approach Slaine and Becca.
“Crap…what the hell does that succubus think she’s doing!” Derek swore as he watched Nerezza reach Slaine and Becca, and then she released her pheromones towards Slaine.
Slaine’s eyes grew hooded and his expression turned dopey and adoring for Nerezza! Nerezza asked Slaine to dance with her and Slaine said ‘yes’.
Derek watched as Slaine and Nerezza began to move across the dance floor together. Crap. Derek finished his drink, stood up, and made his way through the crowd towards Slaine and Nerezza. Slaine was dangerous. He had to protect Nerezza from him.
He’d almost reached them when he felt a hand on his shoulder. “Derek?” A sexy, Southern drawl reached his ears.
Derek turned around to see Becca. She looked gorgeous with her flushed cheeks and bright green eyes. “Becca.”
Becca gave Derek a suspicious and slightly teasing look. “We’ve really got to stop meeting like this. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were stalking me. Really, Derek is your love for me that great?”
Derek’s eyes burned as he looked down at her. He was almost tempted to say ‘yes’. He pulled Becca into his arms. “Dance with me.”
Becca’s eyes popped at Derek’s bold move. This was a strange change of pace. Derek was the one who was always pushing her away. And now, he was the one pulling her close. “S-Sure.” Becca agreed breathlessly. She was slightly buzzed from all the alcohol she’d drunk earlier. It was hard drinking to keep up with Slaine.
Derek led Becca across the dance floor and began to dance with her. Everyone else was freak dancing, but Derek decided to dance a bit different. He began to take Becca through the steps of an ancient Celtic dance. Derek spun her and Becca flawlessly followed his movements. She surprised him by starting the next set of steps in the ancient dance.
Derek was about to ask her how she knew the dance when something caught his attention out of the corner of his eyes. His eyes widened in disbelief and horror. It can’t be…Dracula and his zombie bride Neena? What the hell are they doing here? And in this country for that matter.
Dracula had once again changed his image, and in Derek’s humble opinion the ancient vampire now looked like a pi
mp. He was wearing an expensive designer suit, Ferragamos, and a dramatic, floor-length, black, mink coat that billowed behind him as he strode across the dance floor. The vampire towered over most of the people inside of the club at six-six. He still wore his black, wavy hair long, and his red eyes were hidden behind a pair of round sunglasses with purple-tinted lenses. Dracula held a massive black cane with a silver, dragon-shaped knob that he was swinging back and forth as he walked. Derek was pretty sure it concealed a sword - the vampires’ weapon of choice.
Next to Dracula was Neena, his zombie bride. Her powder-blue skin had been covered with white makeup. She was wearing a low-cut, black, medieval gown with belled sleeves. Her long, blue-black hair was braided down her back. And her ice-blue eyes were as creepy as ever.
“It can’t be…crap.” Derek let go of Becca. “I…I gotta go. Sorry.” He took off through the crowd in pursuit of Dracula and Neena, shoving people out of his way as he went.
Around this time, Slaine began to come back to his senses. He shook his head as if to clear his muddled mind and glared at the woman he was currently dancing with. What the hell was she? “Who the hell are you, woman?” He snarled at her. Slaine was pretty pissed off that he’d somehow been separated from Becca.
Nerezza’s eyes widened, and then she smiled. “You broke my spell too. Could it be you’re in love with her too? I wonder.”
“Get off me, slut.” Slaine pushed Nerezza away from him and she fell to the dance floor in a heap.
Nerezza looked up at Slaine and licked her lips. “Mmm, so forceful.”
Slaine curled his lip in disgust at Nerezza before searching the crowd for Becca. Where the hell is Becca? And then he spotted her dancing with Derek Dearg! The hell? Son of a gun. Slaine pushed his way through the crowd towards Becca. By the time he reached her Derek had already left her in pursuit of Dracula and Neena. Becca was watching Derek go. “Becca.” Slaine reached out, grabbed her arm, and spun her around to face him. “What were you just doing?”
Becca faced Slaine and a guilty look crossed her face. So guilty. “I, er…I was dancing with a friend.”
At least she didn’t lie to him, but still…Derek and Becca’s connection was only growing stronger by the second. It wouldn’t take Derek long to figure out that Becca was Cinnia reincarnated. “I see. Let’s go home. I’m bored.” Slaine drawled as he began to drag her through the crowd.
“Hey, Slaine, wait.” Becca stopped walking. “I want to know something.”
Slaine let out an impatient huff and looked back at Becca. “Yes?”
“Do you know who the man in the black mink coat was? He looked like a pimp.” Becca asked casually.
Slaine chuckled at her words. Dracula the Pimp. Next time he pisses me off I’m so using that. “Yeah, I know who he is. He’s my boss. Mr. Vlad Tepes.”
“Oh, I see.” I wonder how Derek knows him. And seriously, he must have gotten his name changed to that. Goths.
Slaine and Becca exited the club and went to find his parked Lamborghini. After that Slaine headed to the closest supermarket so that he could pick up a few bottles of whipped cream. Becca giggled having an idea what Slaine might have in mind.