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Ever Dance With the Devil by Katie Golde
Wednesday, October 30, 2002
The deep velvet of the night sky spread out above her as she walked. Covering the world in a violet blanket where stars could wink down like tiny gems. Her cautious eyes watching the shadows at every turn, steps quick and sure. Cicada’s made their call in a rhythmic hum from beyond the inky darkness of the shadows. Head down as she
hurries along, her long blonde hair shimmering as if shot with silver beneath the street lamps. Stark contrast against the dull sheen of her black leather jacket.
The warmth of the summer’s day forgotten leaving a trace of a scent and a cool damp chill. Her jean clad legs feel the moisture of the evening mist as it seeps through the thick material. Somewhere in the night a mournful howl erupted, mingling with the song of the cicada’s and the steady clump of her boots on the pavement.
Unknown to the girl with the honey hair and pale skin, dark eyes watched her lithe movements through the empty streets. Arousal pounding deep and feral through his limbs at the sight of those long legs encased in washed out jean. The hem of the black jacket caressing the top of her round buttocks as she stepped onto the curb.
He knew if he followed her, as he had before, they would end up at the country bar. The Cowboys Dream, he considered slowly, shuddering at the thought. The stale air inside would reek of spilled beer, sweat and cigarette smoke. He wondered if tonight was the night. Should he take her this time? Or wait once more?
Once she was safely out of sight, he slithered from his hiding spot in the shadows. Leather shoes floating over the pavement without a sound. Dancing through the mist like a breeze and just as silent.
She walked on, seemingly oblivious to the world around her. Only now and then deviating from her direct path to avoid a foul puddle of water or to skirt a pile of trash. The tiny brown bag slung over one shoulder thumping against her hip with every step. Up ahead the neon blue glow told her she was nearing her destination. Beckoning her
on, causing her to quicken her already determined pace.
Flitting from shadow to shadow, like the ghost of death, he followed her. His speed increasing as he caught a whiff of her perfume floating on the breeze. Smelling as sweet and innocent as she looked. Caught up in his devotion to her, he misjudged the distance around a box of cans sitting in wait by the curb. One foot caught the solid edge, sending cans to roll freely across the damp pavement. With a start he dove for the sheltering blackness in the nearest alleyway. Still against the brick wall of a store,
he waited for a shout, silently berating himself for his clumsiness.
The sound of her footsteps froze. Damn! He thought, She stopped. That means she noticed his presence. From his own foolishness anyway. Silence reigned for what felt like an eternity as he waited with his breath held. Then, as quickly as they stopped, the sound of her footsteps began anew.
As the footsteps walked away, he peeked his head around the corner of the building. The dark empty street greeted him. Tiny circles of light gathered in the mist beneath the streetlights. The sound of the cicada’s gathered once again in the dark night. Cautious and silent he slipped out of his hiding place and followed the path through the shadows toward the bar’s neon blue lights. Like a well trained hound, he sniffed at the
air for a trace of her scent. Catching it easily he made his way to the inviting entrance to Cowboy’s Dream.
Damn! She’s already inside. He thought, dissapointment surged through him as he leaned against the damp brick of the building across the road from the bar. His anxious gaze searching through the faces gathered outside. Country twang echoed through the wooden doors that hung open. For a brief moment he thought he spotted her
silvery blond hair shining like a beacon through the press of bodies inside the door. His attention held on that thought, his defenses down, he was distracted to the sound of someone creeping up behind him until it was too late.
Spinning around his dark gaze found a pair of green eyes blazing into his. Felt the cold
press of steel against his throat. A soft voice whispered deep and insistent against his ear.
“Who the hell do you think you are? Following my mistress like that?” A smell as sweet and feminine as that of the girl he had been following rose to assault his nostrils.
Her hot body pressed against his, arousal piercing through his fear. Before he could respond, he felt the cold press of metal against his wrists as a pair of cuffs were snapped into place. Pinning his wrists together behind his back.
The woman with the knife gazed into his eyes as she started to speak as She appeared. It was the blonde he had been following for weeks. ”Can I have him mistress? Please.” The green eyed woman whined in a quiet tone her eyes piercing into his as if trying to read his thoughts. “He disrespected you mistress...Please, allow
me to punish him.”
From behind the woman with the green eyes came the slow sultry response as the girl with the silver hair slipped into view. For the first time he got a close look at her face. Smooth almost transparent skin, glowing with a blue glow from the bar, spread across her face. Sharp blue eyes, shining with an unnatural gleam met his. Her ruby lips parted in a gleaming white smile. Where her canine teeth were, two tiny pointed fangs gleamed softly in the flourescent light from the bar.
“Release him Jenny...I don’t think my friend is going anywhere. Are you?” Hypnotized by the brilliant azure eyes, he shook his head slowly. “Now this is a surprise. I thought
for the past while I had sensed someone following me, but I couldn’t be sure. Not until tonight, when you screwed up.” Her face moved slowly towards his, her voice holding him completely enthralled. One cold hand slid up his lean body to grasp his neck, his arousal pulsed to life again, pushing against the confines of his pants. Before he could struggle or even really comprehend what was happening her sharp teeth sank into his
neck.
He could smell her scent, feel the cold stiff body embracing his. He shuddered one final breath as she released a soft sigh and allowed him to fall to the ground.
Straightening, she turned and smiled at Jenny. “Shall we go in then?” She said as
though nothing unusual had occurred and turned toward the neon lights of the bar across the road. A beautiful young girl going out to have a good time. Her long silvery blonde hair swaying against her back.
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Reviewed by jo
2/8/2003
The whole piece was great -- sensory imagery, suspense, and all the works, until it was revealed that the girls were vampires! That spoiled it for me... my mind immediately screamed, "CLICHE!" It could have been much better if you proceded with the man being an obsessed serial killer, or if the girls really turned out to prefer each other rather than men (if you get my drift) --- really anything but vampires! Please feel free to email a response.
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