Liz Quartermaine couldn't understand why she was at Inferno. Nightclubs weren't her scene…actually she had no scene. Mousy with thick glasses and waist, she knew she didn't belong.
That was until the darkly mysterious stranger across the bar captured her attention.
Thick wafts of cigarette smoke filled Club Inferno, the hottest nightspot in Morrisonville. Dance music, a mix of hip-hop and techno, blared from the giant sound system originating from the wiry DJ working the CDs in the booth. Fake devils and flames comprised the décor with shades of red and crimson throughout. Humans could be, at best, simple creatures. Surely, they could have come up with something more provocative than visions of hell.
Raphael Chamberlain surveyed the room with narrowed, hooded eyes. So far, no one deserved to die tonight. Oh, sure, there were a few pervs, perps and cheaters out there looking for a good lay but nothing to lose their lives over. He only fed on those who truly contained the blackest of souls with a mark for death.
"Nothing suits you, I see." Alexandra swept yards of long black hair over her shoulder as she looked around the bar herself. Her ethics were questionable and didn't match his. Who was he to say? She fed on who she pleased. He always made sure that her meals were those who deserved what they got. It wasn't easy in his position to keep the others in line.
He leaned back and stretched out his long, denim-encased legs underneath their table nestled in a darker part of the bar. He preferred the blackest part of shadows. They were much safer than being out in the open. "Not a damn thing." His voracious hunger didn't gnaw at him tonight as it normally did. Why, he wasn't sure.
Egyptian-born Nicholas joined in on the mirth. "Our dear Raphael isn't in the mood tonight for a little fun, I suppose."
"There's more to life than a good fu8k." He scanned the room once again to see if anyone else had entered worth eating. His senses returned nothing. No one else entered worth taking.
Why did he keep searching? There was nothing worth eating here. He snickered. It reminded him of a story someone once told him of the humans: If they were bored, they had a tendency to go to the refrigerator to find something to eat. When nothing suited them, they closed the door only to return several minutes later under the conclusion that something new had appeared. "I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."
A sudden unfamiliar heaviness invaded the room and diverted his attention. His senses flared. That normally only happened if another vampire had entered the same bar. None of the other vampires, save the two at his side, ventured to this side of town. So why was he feeling this way?