Her eyes shot open, crimson pools that saw clearly in the darkness of her room though no light could be seen. She rose from her rest, and swung her legs lazily from the bed giving a stretch as she did so. She looked around the room, darkness like the inside of a cave surrounded her yet as she moved, she navigated with the skill of a bat after prey.

She crossed the room, her hand flicking on the switch illuminating the room in iridescent light as she entered the bathroom. Call it old habit, but she liked to shower and brush her teeth before going out, the smell of death on blood on the breath was not an appealing scent, at least not to the mortals she hunted.

When she entered her room once more, the body that had slept the day beside her was now visible. She smiled as she sat on the bed buckling her shoes. He was handsome, they always were. She playfully held his face in one hand and smirked. He had tasted so sweet, so delicious; she had almost forgotten to stop before he was dead. “Poor David. I’m sorry I was a bit rough, and that you had to die, but I couldn’t help it,” she apologized, though sincerity never did reach her voice. Ace didn’t apologize, not for who she was or what she did, but it amused her somehow to try to seem to have a conscience, even with the dead.

She was wearing dark red leather pants and a matching halter that tied around her neck and waist exposing her tattoos. Her blond hair was still curly from the night before when she had taken her time to do it, so there was no need to now. She ran her fingers through it loosely before shaking it out. She applied a gloss to her lips, to accentuate them. it was always good to draw attention to your mouth as a woman, men got so preoccupied with it you could get away with almost anything.

Her next move was disposal. Usually she didn’t kill in her apartment, it simply wasn’t smart to have a body so close to where she lived, but David had been an accident. She had intended it to be a night of reckless abandon, passion and sex, but when she accidentally nicked him with her nail the scent of his blood sent her into a frenzy and before she knew it she was supping on the blood from his neck. A part of her felt guilty, but she could do nothing to change events.

She placed the plastic on the floor and lifted his body onto it. Despite his weight, her was a feather in her hands. No longer did bulging muscles matter to her, she could move them all, some easier than others. She wrapped him carefully and hoisted him over her shoulder. She walked to her window, her eyes still crimson in colour as she looked over the city landscape and without warning launched David’s body to the roof of the adjacent building. It was too dark for her actions to be seen and soon she launched herself from the window, landing with an elegant dip of her knees beside his body. She could remember the first time she’d done that, it was like flying and it thrilled her senses to repeat it. No, she could not fly, but it was just as good she imagined.

When she arrived at the White Mice she was immediately granted entry, it helped when you worked there and knew the bouncers by their nicknames, not even their firsts. David’s body was long gone, having been dumped in an alley a few blocks away. She made sure to do what she could to disguise the bite marks on his neck and then left him.

She strutted into the club like she owned it, her eyes flashing red for a moment as she took in the smell of sweat, heat and fresh human blood. She closed her eyes inhaling and her eyes cooled to their natural blue. She walked to the bar and ordered a glass of Johnny Walker Black Label with ice. The liquid, though hot on the swallowing paled compared to fresh blood, which was what she was after that night.

Ace had an insatiable thirst that was driven by the sensation rather than need. She liked the high that fresh blood gave her, the tingle and the warmth, there was no other source of such pleasure…well, nearly no other source. She killed nightly for that high, like a junkie in need of a fix, she couldn’t get enough.

She smiled at the bartender before promising him a dance. The new guy, she was responsible for him getting broken in, and break him in she would. She was a no nonsense boss and one hell of a ball breaker, at least that was what all the male bartenders she’d trained told her. She couldn’t help that she liked to be in control.

She swivelled around to face the dance floor, over a hundred writhing bodies to choose from and all night to play. She smiled as she sipped her drink. First the drink then the dance floor where the party would really begin.

(((For the Mods, the bio of the character I'm posting here will appear tomorrow)))

Till watched the young lady enter, he knew what she was as soon as her long legs propelled her inside.
His green eyes lit up at the sight of her. A specimen of physical perfection.
He watched her slink across the room, to sit a few stools down from him at the bar.

She ordered a drink and turned to look at the dance floor.
He slid down to join her, his muscled frame moving surprisingly quickly.
He lend a large forearm on the bar and asked, his German accent rolling his words
"If the barmann can have a dance with such a fine figure of a female, may I have one also?"

She sipped her drink as her eyes took in the canvas before her. Such pretty people enjoying themselves to the limit. She had always lived her life that way, filled with every pleasure and joy she could wring out of it. What was life if you didn’t enjoy it? What was the point of existing if there was no fun to be had?

Her eyes fell on a very pretty boy, pretty was the term for his features were so fair they were almost of a woman’s. He was young, she could tell, young and innocent as a young man of this century could be. Her eyes then moved to his companions of varying ages and of both sexes. Now what was she in the mood for tonight, female or male?

She was contemplating her options, delighting in the buffet before her, when she sensed an approach and saw him sit beside her out of the corner of her eye. She did not look at him, not until he spoke. Her blue eyes wandered casually to his face, a small smirk on her face. “You shouldn’t listen to other people’s conversations,” she said teasingly. “It obviously gave you the wrong idea.” Her words were soft and playful.

“The bartender has privileges,” she stated calmly and sipped her drink. “You’re not from here are you?” she commented his accent thick in her ears. She would have guest German by his intonation, but she was never one to assume anything.

He was nothing if not courtly. Clothed only in warm red blood and easy with it, Ferox leaned over the woman sprawled over the stained sheets to give her peck on the cheek. It was an almost affectionate gesture. Her eyes, a dollbaby blue, were wide and empty, staring chastely at the wall. “You are a woman of your word, Tara. It was excellent.” The Roman told her, humming as he picked up a towel. Turning to head to her shower, he could not help but take a moment to study his handiwork.

Hubris might well be an excessive trait in him, but didn’t everyone take pleasure in what they did?

Tara had been stood up by her date last night. It had seemed a boon when the handsome man, charming, had asked her to sit with him. He too had been deserted by his date. And, oh, he’d been so flattering, so much fun to talk to. More, he’d insisted on paying for her meal and even bought a bottle of wine. Perhaps she shouldn’t have had so much, but it really was lovely. She had thrown caution to the winds, so unlike her, and had invited him back to her apartment for the night. Hungrily, her mouth had been on his before the door had closed behind them. He hadn’t seemed to mind. By the time they’d managed to find their way to her bedroom, her lovely dress had fallen to the floor and been forgotten; she’d set to work on his trousers. God, what a feeling! It had been so wild, so thrilling, to arch her back against a total stranger and come with a barely muffled scream.

When she’d flipped over on her back, he was just removing his shirt, revealing a plethora of scars. They were fascinating, crisscrossing his muscular torso, his legs, his back. She had trailed her fingers over them, feeling the strange ridges. He kissed her, trailed his mouth down her throat. Laughing, she pressed closer, then gasped as his fingers tightened like steel bands. His mouth clamped over the swell of her breast, followed by a sudden sharp pain. Shocked, she tried to shove him away, but his grip was like a vise. The hands whose touch she had craved shackled her wrists, painfully wrenching her arms behind her back. Holding them with one hand, he brushed the other over her cheek, a slight smile on his lips as he watched her eyes go wide at the sight of the fangs—yes, fangs—streaked with blood. Tara had opened her mouth to scream, but the stroking hand clapped over it. She could do nothing as he lowered his head, screaming uselessly against the muffling palm as he sank those fangs into the soft flesh of her throat.

Ferox was not an animal. He did not gulp carelessly at her blood, sweeter and more intoxicating than any wine though it was, but sipped. Savored. Much the same way as he savored the little whimpers of pain and fear—no, not fear. Terror, so much more powerful than simple fear. Sweat gave her skin a flush gloss, released its signature sharp perfume made all the more distinctive as it mingled with the heavy scent of blood.

He stepped from the shower in a cloud of steam. His late companion of the night had kept only feminine shampoos and soaps in fruity scents, but Ferox didn’t mind overly. Picking the scattered pieces of his suit up, he dressed quickly. When he left he did not pause to glance back, to bask even longer in the sight of his handiwork. Such was vanity, was it not?

Returning to his own home, he slept away the deep lethargy sunlight brought to his bones. Contented, he slept long and peacefully, shifting little in his rest. Were any to enter, they would have thought him a corpse with his pale flesh and stillness. Dead so long, his chest did not rise or fall, the warmth of the woman’s blood slowly leached away. Dusk had just fallen when his eyes opened. Ferox rolled from his luxurious bed to stand before the window. Outside was darkness, emptiness, and still he stared. He crossed to his piano, stroked the cool ivory keys.

No. His blood, stolen as it was, was too restless for music to calm. Stroking a hand through his short hair, he debated between the uniforms of money and youth. Rather than a suit, as he had worn last night, he chose jeans worn white at the knees, battered athletic shoes, and a t-shirt. Deciding not to shave, he threw on a jacket, completing the casual, slightly scruffy look. He had gone for the elegant last night. Tonight was for the young. For those whose blood swam with drama and pettiness. For lives full and rich.

His to end.

Fingers tapping to a tune floating through his mind, he lifted the keys to his vintage Mustang from their hook. Ferox enjoyed cars. He climbed into the sleek, muscled machine, smiled slightly at the powerful growl as he turned the key. Rolling down the windows to let in the brisk night air, he headed into town. His destination was the White Mice Nightclub.

Reaching the club, he parked, then underwent a rather fascinating transformation. Gone was the cultured gentleman who managed to be smooth in everything he did. In his place came a cocky, arrogant young man who had striking looks and knew it. He strolled into the club, paused a moment to let the loud sounds and jumble of scents wash over him. For a time, he drifted along on the pound of the music, such as it was. As would be expected of a human his apparent age, he danced energetically. Sometimes he even enjoyed himself. Slipping up to the bar, however, he was slightly disappointed. Perhaps he would have been better off with his music.

He glanced at the bartender, a young vampire. She had looks and form, but vampires held little interest for him. “Rum and coke.” Ferox ordered, watching her curiously. There weren’t too many vampires in the club on this night, save this bartender and a few others. Perhaps, just perhaps, she or one of the others would be enough to interest him.

”Come here often?” He asked silently, smiling a little at using such a clichéd line. Ah, well, if she was bright enough she would recognize it for the jest it was.

Ace smiled casually as she looked at the male beside her and sipped her drink. The alcohol burned her tongue slightly, but no longer had the effects it once had on her, light headedness, inhibition and the feeling that she could do anything. Only blood did that for her now, only the sweetness of human blood.

She sensed something strange, an odd sensation in her mind and body, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. She had never met another vampire, never seen another like her though she knew they had to exist or else how would she be there? It grew stronger, and she looked curiously. What was this sensation?

She saw him coming, though it never occurred to her that the attractive male could actually be the source of the feeling she was having. She went back to her drink the feeling subsiding. “Hey, thought you had the day off? You the kind of girl who likes to hang around her workplace even when she doesn’t need to be?” a male voice whispered in her ear. She turned with a smile. “I know that people think bartenders are supposed to ask questions and get people’s life stories…but that’s wrong.” Her words were firm and authoritative. “Don’t ask. If they tell, fine, but don’t ask. You are here to serve drinks not be a therapist.” She smiled coyly. “And no…I just like the atmosphere,” she replied and turned to her back to him again.

A few seconds later the male she’d seen approaching was now situated beside her, ordering a rum and coke. A mild drink in Ace’s mind, not one she was used to have guys ordering, though they were a few who did like it. The younger crowd seemed to like the harder stuff, they probably had something to prove.

She felt his eyes on her, and she pretended not to notice, her eyes glancing at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. She sipped her drink and looked out on the crowd, so many choices.

Come here often?

The words reverberated in her ears and she turned to look at their source. Her blue eyes fell casually on him a small smile on her face. “Is that the best you can do?” she teased knowing he was making a joke. She sipped her drink. “I work here,” she said casually. “Come here often?” she reflected the question back at him, a smirk on her face.

"I'd come more often if I knew you were here." Ferox replied, an almost self-mocking glint in his eye balancing out the corny return. He took a sip of the drink, enjoying the sweet taste and slight zip of alcohol. As she worked, he studied her, carefully rather than lecherously as most would. She worked with competence-- which he could appreciate.

But there was a distinct lack of culture. She wore skin-skimming leather in a deep red tone, had her hair in deliberately messy curls that he'd seen on so many mortals. The kind of hair that screamed for a man to curl his fist in it as he fought a war both sides won. It had an appeal, that much he had to admit. Ferox shrugged slightly, downed the rest of his drink. You didn't expect culture in a place like this.

For a moment, he turned to rest his back against the bar, study the crowd. It would be easy to pick the night's girl from this seething mess. He debated doing so, but decided to wait. A vampire serving drinks to humans... that interested him more. For a man like Ferox, it was a bit ironic. After all, humans were the chosen drink of vampires.

"I bet you get a lot of that, don't you?" It was much easier to speak from mind to mind rather than shout over the blast they called music.

Her smirk broadened at his words. “Would you?” she replied with just a hint of teasing. She was off the clock tonight; she was just about having fun which meant she could talk all she wanted…if she wanted. She sipped her drink again. She saw the bartended behind her gave her a smile, more than likely amused to see her in this setting and not busting his chops. She ignored him.

He looked casual, typical clothing, nothing different to what she’d seen on David…poor David. She shoved him out of her mind quickly. It was unfortunate that he had to die, it hadn’t been her intent but she got carried away…it happened. At least he enjoyed himself first, she thought as a wry smile crossed her lips. She refocused on this new face.

The lights reflected off her clothes, the red a good colour on her, drawing attention to all the right places. She wore it deliberately, she liked the attention, she always had. She hadn’t changed since her turning, she still acted like a mortal, dressed like one and even behaved like one, if you discount the drinking of blood…though there were some humans who did that as well.

I bet you get a lot of that, don't you?

The words intruded her mind and the shock was on Ace’s face. What was that? she thought, her brow furrowed momentarily in confusion. She’d never had that before. Was this some new thing from her turning?

She looked at the newcomer; sure it was his voice she was hearing in her head. She smiled and tried to answer. I do, she replied, and much more. She smirked, this was new, this was interesting…this was fun. How did you do that? she asked intrigued.

You're like me...aren't you? she spoke into his mind.

Ferox smiled at the initial look of surprise on the girl's face. He could only just sense her, she was so young. Her powers were immature; she seemed hardly aware of them. Still, after the initial shock, she bore down easily enough and he heard her voice in his mind.

As did several mortals, from the way their heads swiveled.

"Many long years of training." Ferox replied to her first question, taking another sip of his drink. "You need to focus more on me. Your thoughts are too broad-- the chattel can hear you." The ancient continued, gesturing with his drink slightly to indicate the several humans who had twisted to search for the voice in their heads. Since there were so few, it was easy to wipe the momentary incident from their memories, and they went back to whatever they had been doing without a beat missed.

Setting his drink on the bar, he studied the crowd for a moment, then 'spoke' again. "As for being like you, yes, I am. I am far older, however. Tell me, when were you turned?"

She looked at him with interest and curiosity. She had no idea she could do that, speak into the mind of another and she was excited by the prospect. If he could speak into her mind, and her into his, then could she read his mind as well? She wanted to find out, but had no idea how to begin; besides it might not have been in her best interest to try.

She had not even noticed the mortal heads that turned to find the source of the voice in their heads, so great was her interest in the male beside her.

He spoke into her mind again and she smiled. She liked this; it would be the ultimate way to share secrets in the middle of a crowd. She was so young; she had no idea what she could do. She had no one to teach her, to show her the depths of her abilities but she would discover them. Hadn’t she already learned she was much stronger and faster than she had been? She would discover all the secrets that lay hidden within her in time…she would.

She laughed at his comment…chattel, what a way to describe them. Her amusement was sincere. She stared at him, trying to do as he asked, to focus on him. I’m sorry. I’m new at this, she admitted. She looked at the faces of those who had turned, a smile on her face. She could play so many little games with this ability. She would test it again later, but this time on the chattel, as he had called them.

She did not take her eyes off him, less he do something else that she could try. I was…turned, two months ago I guess. I don’t exactly remember when it was. How old are you? she asked curiously, her body language giving away what her mouth did not say, as she leaned in closer to him. It was not as easy as she thought it would be to keep her focus solely on him, especially in their current surroundings but she did her best.

"How old are you?"

Ferox smiled at the question, the thin and inscrutable smile that was almost a trademark. It held no particular emotion, allowed instead for those who saw it to come to their own conclusions. Sometimes, it seemed mocking, other times--such as now--dry. "Much, much older."

"It's an easy enough ability to use, though mastering it, like any ability, takes time. If you are so inclined, you may even be able to skim the thoughts of mortals with relative simplicity. Vampires, however, will be more problematic--depending." Idly, he finished his drink, tapped the glass smartly on the wood to signal for another. Ferox had no idea what sort of talents this fledgling might have, but his mind was well warded against any who might wish to intrude. It would take incredible power to hear what thoughts might be drifting beneath his calm, angular features.

Dark, dark grey eyes shifted back to Ace, "Before you get any cute ideas to fiddle with the minds of the mortals, a piece of advice. Don't fiddle with any you don't intend to kill or wipe clean of memory. There is a group who would rather take exception to humans scuttling about with tales of disembodied voices and would show their displeasure by removing your head." To punctuate his words, Ferox smiled again, almost avuncularly.

She kept her eyes locked on him; it seemed easier that way to accomplish her goal. She tried to force the sound of the music out but when the beat was as good as it was now, it wasn’t easy. She’d always had an itch for a good tune, something she could move her body to and tonight looked like it was going to be a good night in the White Mice.

His smile was somewhat vague, she couldn’t read it, and being Ace, she wasn’t going to try for long. She wasn’t a mind reader…well not entirely, and it wasn’t for her to decipher one smile from another. She liked actions, clean clear actions.

She smirked, her face saying nothing more than she might be amused or she really thought he was an old fart. You don’t look it, she teased, sipping her drink.

Does it? Ace wasn’t the patient kind of girl who sat around and waited for something to happened, she liked to get out there and make it happen. Him telling her it took time only drove her desire to try it again. She wanted to ask why vampires were more difficult, but she didn’t bother, it was pretty much a given if she thought of it. Vampires can read, and they might not like that. If she had just tried to speak to this guy and ended up tapping into the minds of the humans around, who knows what they might be able to do.

She sat back at his last statement, her eyes focused on him. Is that so? she questioned, before putting the glass to her head and finishing it in one go. She put the glass on the bar and shoved it back towards the bartender. Thank for the advice, she said coolly.

She slid of the bar stool, and turned to the bartender. “Ready for that dance yet?” she yelled at him. “I still got customers…” he tried to protest but Ace would have none of it. “I’m your boss…and your boss says…get your ass out here,” she said with a coy smile. She looked at the first guy who had sat beside, “See you out there,” she teased before her eyes came back to the vampire in wordless connection.

She strutted her long legs onto the floor with the bartender in close pursuit, before long they were dancing together, face to face and his hands on her hips. She tried to skim over his thoughts but it was too hard, she couldn’t get focused enough. She was about to suggest they take a break, when she saw him. “Jack,” she said as her face went stony. She ignored her partner’s questions and silenced him with a raised hand. “Get back to work,” she ordered. He looked confused. “Fun’s over…get back to work.” She ordered him. Disgruntled he complied.

“Hey Jack,” she said with a sultry voice as she walked up to the six foot two brunette male. He looked at her with interested, hungry eyes. “Care to dance?” she asked and without another word spoken began to pull him onto the dance floor by his shirt. He never protested. Jack had been trying to get into her pants for months, but never succeeded, however he had succeeded in forcing his way into her friend Carla’s. He got off because Carla was a little fast and loose with herself and the police couldn’t pin it on him, but Ace knew, she could smell him all over her after it happened. She’d been looking for him ever since.

She got him interested, very interested, with the swivel of her hips and the well-timed pressing of her body against his. His body’s reaction gave away his enthusiasm. “Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” she cooed into his ear with a grin, as she began to lead him away from the dance floor. On the way her eyes met the vampire’s, Care to join us? I found someone to practice on, she said with a lascivious smile.

She led Jack into the manager’s office. It was a quiet, sound proof room above the club, with a two way mirror to see the goings on below. She had they keys since the manger was gone, and it had its own private access to the roof and street, the perfect place for a little privacy. Almost instant he was all over her and she played along, sliding her bum onto the desk top as he stood in front of her, his hands searching her body and his lips against hers.

Would her new ‘friend’ join her and teach her a few tricks, or would she have to learn things like she always had, on her own?

She was so impatient.

Ferox chuckled slightly at the suddenly cool tone in the blond's voice. He had only told her the truth. The Amman did not take any possibility of a vampiric discovery by mortals lightly. Only the Enashe could get away with allowing any humans to know of the immortal presence, and then only a rare few that would not run the streets blabbering about it.

"Does it?" she had asked.

"But of course. And effort as well." He replied to her question, his dark soot gaze following her abrupt departure. The ancient tipped his glass to her as she stood. And what was this? She danced with the bartender, gyrating her skimpily clad body against the man's broader frame. Taking a swig of his newly ordered beer, Ferox decided he wasn't too far gone to the sands of time if he could appreciate that view.

Suddenly, she stopped, staring at another man. Her eyes passed over the man with what Ferox suspected was dislike, and then the blonde dismissed the bartender. Tipping back, the elder vampire watched as she drew in the new man with seductive movements. Ferox could imagine what was coming. Sure enough, the man bent his head down to listen to the blond as she whispered in his ear. Shrugging, Ferox took another swallow of beer, reflecting how much the old brew had changed since the old days. And he meant the really old days. Just as he was about to head back to the dance floor to choose his night's companion, her voice echoed in his head.

"Care to join us? I found someone to practice on."

Well, why not? Sliding a bill to the bartender, who looked distinctly disgruntled as he watched the blond head upstairs with the dark-haired man, Ferox let his bottle dangle in his fingers as he followed them. Slipping into the room quietly, though not silently, he leaned on the door frame, closing the door behind him with an absent thought. The man, some three inches taller than the Roman, did not turn around. Ferox was masking his presence from the randy boy.

Raising an eyebrow to the blond, Ferox took another sip of his beer. What do you have in mind... ?" he asked silently, letting the question trail off in an invitation for her name.

She continued her performance, feigning interest in Jack, allowing her hands to wanders sinews of his back through his shirt. He kissed across her jaw to her neck; her eyes closed at the sensation and opened deep red in colour. The cool, sweet blue was gone and instead vengeful red eyes had taken their place. He had said not to dabble in the minds of anyone she had no intentions of killing or erasing their memory. Jack was perfect then, since she had every intention of killing him.

She grinned as she saw her new friend enter the room behind him. Jack was too busy to notice, his hands and mouth were busy exploring her skin and body. He really believed that she knew nothing of what he’d done, that she really wanted him. The foolish mortal.

She allowed a sigh of pleasure to escape her, but it was not at Jack’s actions but at the stranger’s question. What did she have in mind? She smiled. I want to know how to read his mind…to implant my voice in his head…to make him cower in fear at the sound me speaking into his mind. I want to make him suffer…I want to know everything. Her voice was shameless in its desire for knowledge.

She stood, allowing Jack more range of her, it was best to keep his little mind occupied with other things for the time being. She knew how to manipulate even without the ability to control his mind, there was more than one way to play with a mouse and she being the cat, wanted to know all other ways.

Ace… she replied into his mind before her view of him was obscured by Jack’s frame. She turned Jack around, forcing him back against the desk with a firm shove. He grinned at her, thinking this part of the game as his hand went for the ties of her top. Her hand went up to meet him. “One thing at a time love,” she said softly as her fangs grew in her mouth. She looked over her shoulder, Show me… she asked playfully as she removed herself from Jack’s grasp.

“Hey…who’s this guy?” he asked, on noticing they were not alone. Ace had turned her back to him now so he could not see the change in her appearance. “A friend,” she replied slyly. “This is a private party hon, and you are the guest of honour,” she said as her voice turned cold and menacing. “Be still and enjoy the ride,” she continued, her words were not for him but for the vampire across from her.

“Shall we begin?” she asked as she turned on Jack with quick reflexes and her hand clutched his throat firmly silencing him before he had a chance to react. She squeezed, just enough to prevent a sound from escaping his throat but loose enough so he could just breathe. The fear in his eyes as he looked into hers was delicious and it fuelled the fire within her. What do I do first? She turned and asked into the vampire’s head.

I want to know how to read his mind…to implant my voice in his head…to make him cower in fear at the sound me speaking into his mind. I want to make him suffer…I want to know everything.

Flipping the boy a jaunty little wave when the man finally noticed the vampire, Ferox smiled and took another sip of his beer. The girl, Ace, had a different way than Ferox did. Generally speaking, he preferred the quick violence of the physical. Cut and bite, taste the blood pumped out by a fear-quickened heartbeat.

So this would be out of his usual routine. "Speaking to him, mentally, is the same as speaking to me. Concentrate on him, shape your words to your thoughts. You already have the hang of it." Ferox instructed, watching as she clamped a hand around the man's throat to keep him silent. "Images, however, would be slightly harder. It takes more concentration than speech. It is hard to explain, though it works the same way." As if to demonstrate, he smiled, implanting the image of Jack with his shirt off and his chest torn open into Ace's mind.

"Telepathy is simply thought. If you have something else in mind, that still works in a similar way. Watch." Ferox narrowed his eyes slightly and, with little more than an idle thought, the man's shirt ripped off. "I'll refrain from harming him. That, I shall leave up to you." Calmly, he took another sip of his beer.[/I]

She squeezed a little tighter, enjoying the fear building up in Jack’s eyes and the way they bulged slightly. His hands were pulling at her arm trying to remove her vice-like grip from his throat, but it was no use. Ace’s hand was like steel and her hatred like the inside of a volcano before eruption.

The filth scum before her had violated her friend and thought he had gotten away with it, and thought that by some mystery she wouldn’t know about it, that she wouldn’t have cared. This alone was buying him time before his death, and he would die there was no doubt about it…but first he was going to suffer.

She focused her eyes on Jack as the vampire spoke, her eyes burning into his. Can I hurt him with my mind? she asked. She focused on Jack, her mind meeting his. [i[]Hello Jack. Frightened are we?[/i] she asked. His eyes grew wider and frightened tears began to well as he heard her voice inside his head. Yes Jack. You are hearing me. You’re not crazy. This is real. And you will be sorry… she said menacingly.

She smiled as a vision of Jack with his chest ripped open appeared in her head. She turned to face the vampire, a sly grin on her face. She liked the looks of that. “What’s your name?” she asked coyly using her voice as she built up her concentration to try to transfer the image she had just been given to Jack. She turned back and tried to give Jack the image, it was hard, it was but she managed to get it. It was only a second, no more, but Jack got the point as he began to whimper.

When Jack’s shirt ripped off, Ace laughed. I can do that just by thought? Take off someone’s clothing? she asked. Can I make him bleed that way? To mimic her thoughts Ace ran a sharp nail across Jack’s cheek, cutting him and making him bleed. Thanks. If you have an suggestions let me know…I am always open to new ideas, she said once again looking over her shoulder at him.

"You can call me Felix." Ferox replied. He preferred the more modern sounding name in most instances. Modern tongues tended to mangle his real name a bit, though he thought it was quite simple to say and understand. Felix, though it had a feline connotation, was rarely mangled.

"Can I make him bleed that way?"

Ferox raised an eyebrow, smiled. "My dear, you can rip his head off that way, if you so wish." He replied, toasting Jack as the man's eyes flew even wider at the vampire's words. Since he had said he would leave the harming of the mortal to Ace, Ferox raised his hand in demonstration instead. Seemingly by itself, his sleeve unbuttoned and rolled back, revealing pale and muscular flesh with a ring of scars around the wrist. A line of red appeared on the forearm as the flesh laid itself open. A moment later, it was healed, flawless except for the old scars.

"It's quite simple to do the same on him. Of course, it's also more fun to use claws or even a knife." Ferox studied the man's chest. Apparently, the human took pride in his physique. His flesh was tanned, the muscles underneath firm in a way only work produced. "Suggestions? Don't cut too deeply. It will send him into shock."

Watching silently for a moment, he drained his beer. "If I may ask, is this random or has he committed some offense?"

“Felix…You can call me Ace,” She said with a smirk. Ace worked better than her real name, Adalyn. No one called her that, no one knew her first name. She’d been introducing herself as Ace for years and everyone was content to leave it at that. Ace suited her, it was more edgy, more fearless than little sweet Adalyn.

She grinned, showing her fangs and the sly glint in her eyes at Felix’s words. She looked at Jack, “Did you hear that?” she asked, stroking his hair. “I can rip your pretty little head off.” She was enjoying watching him squirm, the disgusting little urchin. She turned her head back to Felix, his shirt sleeve unbuttoned and rolled back to reveal his arm. Her eyes studied the muscular flesh with a mixture of curiosity and interest. She liked her men toned, not that Felix would ever fall into that category. She continued to watch with interest as his arm sliced itself opened and healed moments later without a visible sign of an instrument being used.

Where did you get those? she asked into his head as her eyes took one last glance at the scars on his arm before returning to his face.

“All in good time,” she said with a sly smile as Felix told her it would be more fun to use claws or a knife to inflict injury. She looked at Jack, “Was this what you thought would happen when I brought you up here?” she asked rhetorically. “Nah, I think you thought you’d be halfway to heaven by now,” she said coyly, “instead of on your way to hell,” she added threateningly.

She took Felix’s words into consideration. Cut him, but not too deep if she wanted the torture to last. She looked back at Felix, “This asshole thought that he could have his way with a friend of mine against her will…I’m just teaching him that he may have gotten away with in with the cops, but not with me.” She squeezed her hand one last time to crush his larynx enough to prevent him making a sound but still allowing him to breathe. She kneed him in the groin afterwards and tossed him aside like a doll.

“I hate it when men take but don’t give, even worse when they take without asking first.” Her words were cold. The beat of the music downstairs filtered into the room and her hips moved slightly to it. Her eyes fixed on Jack as he tried to get up. She looked at his face and then with some concentration she inflicted her first injury, a long scratch ran down his right cheek. It was enough for blood to trickle down his face, but not deep enough to reveal the tissue.

“This will not be fun. You won’t like this, and it will last a while,” she said coldly to Jack.

"Where did you get those?"

Ferox smiled humorlessly, pulling his sleeve back to study the scars. Some had a fascination for his marked flesh, for the way the ridges twisted grotesquely when he moved. Others looked with pity, wondering what awful fortune had fallen upon him to make such extensive marks. "A friendly group of Germans generously gave them to me a long, long time ago." He replied wryly.

Grey eyes flickered back and forth, watching as she tossed the man around with the same idle interest as one might show watching a television show. She seemed to be building a rather hot head of steam.

She looked at the scars, her mind interested in where he had gotten them, but not out of pity. She was the curious type. She liked to ask questions. She liked to know things. She had a few scars from her childhood, longer before her skin could regenerate. Then of course were her tattoos. She had gotten her tats at various stages of her life and for many different reasons.

She once knew a guy who had hooks inserted into his back for the fun of it. He called it style. She called it twisted. Needless to say their acquaintance didn’t last long, especially after he suggested she try it for herself.

They did a nice job on you, she said with a still face before casually walking over to Jack and picking up by his collar like you would a cat, and dragged him to the centre of her room. She smacked him around a little, the once tall and imposing man, a mere sham of his former self. She practiced on him, using her mind to control him and inflict pain. It was all very thrilling for her, discovering this new ability and what it could be used for.

Eventually, she’d had enough play time. The various marks and cuts on Jack were igniting her thirst, and her thirst was her master. She was a fledging; the ability to control her need to feed did not exist for her. She had to satisfy it when it called. It was beginning to scream at her.

She circled him for moment, her fang biting against her lip as she made her choice. Where was the best place to bite? Jack could do nothing as she stooped beside him and took his hand. Seconds later a sharp nail sliced into soft flesh. She just wanted a taste to start. However, a taste was never enough and moments later her fangs sank dead centre in the artery of his neck. Jack shook against her, but Ace held him firm.

When her head rose, her lips were tinted with his blood. “Want some?” she asked Ferox. Usually she didn’t share. She didn’t have to; she knew no others like her. “I figure I owe you for teaching me that lovely little trick,” she said coyly, her red eyes staring up at him.

"They did that, yes." Ferox replied silently, lightly rubbing the scars around his wrist. If he thought about it, he could still remember how coarse rope felt chafing against skin. How sharp edges felt sliding through it. Even as the thought occurred to him, he dismissed it again. These days, he was the one tying the hands and holding the knife.

It was much more fun to be on the hilt than the point.

Ace continued her work on the man. Yes, she certainly did seem well and truly pissed at the fellow, though her rage was rather brutal. Ferox would have taken his time with the man, forced him to humiliate himself. On a sigh, he drew in the rich scent of the man's blood. A good scent, made all the better by the crisply sour odor of his sweat and fear.

Still, it was only when Ace's control began to waver that his stone-dark eyes became more interested. His sire aside, Ferox had never watched another vampire feed. The fledgling drank with a hunger; she soon abandoned the small cut she had begun with in favor of the neck, bulging with blood.

At her offer, he smiled slightly. He really hadn't been all that hungry, he'd figured he would work up his hunger, but why not? "Here." Ferox said, one hand guiding Ace's fangs back to the man's throat as he stood behind her. His chest against her back, he leaned around the other side and sank his fangs into the man. With both of them drinking, he would be drained in no time, but there was a certain thrill that came with two at once.

She licked her lips, the lingering taste of Jack’s blood on her lips sending ripple after ripple of pleasure through her. She got a thrill out of feeding. He tasted good, a mixture of fear and sweat, and she liked it. He deserved to be afraid, made to cower like the scum that he was.

She looked at Ferox as he stood there watching her. He seemed curious. Ace knew there was a lot she didn’t know, and that he could teach her. She was curious about him for many reasons. How had he known she was a vampire? How many were there? Did he even know? However, her questions would have to wait, there were more pressing things at hand.

She smiled at him mischievously. Would he accept her offer? He had so far been open to her previous suggestions. Of course he would. He needed blood just like she did, why wouldn’t he say yes?

She watched with satisfaction as Ferox smiled and crossed the room towards her. He spoke while guiding her head back to Jack’s open artery and the stream of blood that was running down his neck. It was a shame to let good blood go to waste, so she slid her tongue up the side of his neck, effectively lapping up the spilt blood, before sinking her fangs back into his neck.

She could feel Ferox standing behind her, his chest against her back as he sank his fangs into Jack’s neck as well. There was something provocative about this, but she didn’t mind her senses were reeling with the high of blood. Twice the mouths, twice the depletion and so it was with Jack. He stopped shaking and became very still. She could hear his heat in her ears and carefully counted the beats till they were very slow and told her it was time to let go. What a shame, she was rather enjoying herself.

Her lips left Jack’s neck, and her eyes glanced over at Ferox. She had never seen someone feeding before, there was something thrilling and mesmerising about it. She watched him as a trickle of blood ran down her lip. “Good?” she asked softly, a smirk on her face.

The pressure of the man's blood pulsed hotly, intoxicatingly. As many liters of the thick red liquid Ferox had drunk in his life, there was nothing quite the same. It was sweet and metallic, roaring through his veins like fire. His fingers tightened on the man's upper arms as he bit down a little harder, dragging his fangs to rip the punctures a little wider.

All too quickly, however, the pulse slowed. Pulling back just before the agonal shudders set in, Ferox wiped a couple of smears of blood from his lips. "Of course." He smiled at Ace as the body fell. "How was your first time?" Ferox asked, referring to her use of her powers.

Jack’s body fell to the floor with a slight thud, but Ace ignored it. It was a lifeless shell she would have to dispose of like old trash, nothing to consider.

She wiped away the trace of blood from her mouth and looked at Ferox with questioning eyes. She smiled at his response. “Glad you liked it,” she replied coolly. Jack had tasted much better than expected and sharing him had turned out to be just as interesting.

She smiled at the reference. Her first time…haha! She laughed slightly, “It was as most first times are. A little painful but gets better as you go along,” she replied. “The more you do it, the easier it gets and the more fun.” She looked Ferox in the eye for a moment before standing. She looked down at Jack’s body. "I'll have to try it again sometime."

“Well…I guess I need to get rid of this,” she said casually. “Can’t have the boss finding this when he comes back. He might fire me,” she said jokingly. She pulled a solitary key from her picket and grabbed Jack’s body in preparation for toting him outside. Out the door, to the roof and into a nearby dumpster and then back to continue her fun.

She halted for a moment a question burning on her lips. "What else can you do?" she asked casually, her intense blue eyes studying his face.

Casually, Ferox followed Ace out as she hefted the body and tossed it into a Dumpster. Ah, from a self-assured life to... a Dumpster. In less than an hour. One had to take into consideration the amusing flavor of it all. "Try as often as you like... humans are as common as the cattle they eat." Again with the bovine reference; well, it seemed to fit. Humans were much like cows, grazing and meandering their way through life until a better equipped predator came along and ate them.

She began to lead the way back inside the room, but halted. Her gaze was intense and questioning so Ferox met it with a raised eyebrow. "What else can you do?" Ace asked as Ferox studied her sharply blue eyes. "Wouldn't that be bragging?" He asked dryly, as Dumpster with its scratched walls and pitted blue paint exploded into flames behind them.

She tossed Jack inside the nearest dumpster with a solid thud, and then dusted her hands off and began to walk away. She laughed, “There are a few billion of them walking around,” she replied to Ferox’s statement. Ace would practice; she would master this new little gift that was a promise. She might just practice a little more tonight if the opportunity arose.

She started for the door of the club but stopped once again with questioning eyes. What else could he do? She was dying to find out…well not literally. She was about to respond to his statement when the sound of a small explosion behind her stopped her cold. She started as flames consumed what once was the body of Jack. The flickers of light danced in her eyes as they started with intense interest. She felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement.

She turned back to Ferox slowly, her interest clear in her eyes. She smiled lasciviously. “Teach me?” she asked.

This night was working out much better than anticipated. She thought she’d have some fun on the floor and then feed her thirst, but now she’d learned she could infiltrate the mind of mortals and use it against them. What else was there for her to learn?

Ferox could have laughed at her clear and obvious interest in his pyrokinetic ability. That was what they called it nowadays, was it not? Pyrokinesis, yes, that seemed right. It had been quite a while since he'd interacted with a fledgling like this. That tended to make him forget that not all could do what he could do... though he never was so arrogant as to think that there was nothing he could not do.

"You may not have the talent, I'm afraid. As far as I know, it's a rather rare one." Ferox shrugged. "I will attempt to, but for now, I need a drink. Perhaps we can find another for you to test your abilities on. Controlling your thirst is paramount, however, especially if you wish to gain any sort of precise control over yourself without leaving long trails of bodies in your wake." He smiled and walked over to the door. Opened it to a blast of sound and held it for Ace. "And the Amman sometimes frown upon such gratuitous killing."

Her eyes till searched his face with interest, keen unwavering interest. How had he done that? Could she do that? What did she have to do? That was a handy little trick indeed to make things burst into flames at will.

Her face fell at his words. “Rare?” she questioned, wondering if he was sincere or was this just his way of telling her he had no intention of showing her. However, her smile returned when he said he would try to show her but after a drink. “Sounds fair. I could use a drink myself,” she added after him.

She started walking back into the club. “Controlling my thirst?” Ace questioned as she looked over her shoulder at him. “Why do I need to do that?” she asked and quickly received an answer. “I’m very careful,” she explained. “I’m not stupid. I don’t leave them hanging around the place where they can be traced back to me.” She said defensively.

“The Amman?” She asked curiously. “Who’s that?” she asked as she walked into the club.

Seeing as they were back in the company of mortals, Ferox switched back to speaking mind-to-mind. It wouldn't do to discuss such matters in front of the seething mass of humanity--besides, Ace wanted to learn to control her powers more precisely. And there was no better way to do so than to simply practice. That was what Ferox had meant when he told her it took time; mostly because it did. Although he may not have been the norm, it had taken him months to learn to control his telepathy flawlessly--telekinesis had taken far longer.

But perhaps he was simply slow.

"Beer, bottled." He ordered to the bartender, having to nearly shout at the man to be heard. "As for being careful, that's all well and good, but the population can only take so much. If too many vampires take too many humans, well, the humans that are left will take notice. And that is what the Amman work against--humans taking notice." Ferox smiled dryly. He did that often, allow his mouth to smile while his dark eyes stayed flat and cool.

"The Amman are a coven of vampires that are set apart from the other covens, there are five in total. They are set apart from the rest of the covens due to age and ability; no vampire younger than one thousand years is allowed to become Amman, save the few exceptions of those fledglings sired by Amman. But that is rare. As for what the Amman are... In simplistic terms, perhaps too simplistic, they are vampiric police. They have taken it upon themselves to keep our presence hidden from the humans." He smiled again, though this one was laced with some amusement. "So you can see why the slaughter of humans is something they look down upon."

His beer arrived and he took a sip, his eyes on Ace.