Page 50 of Fratelli: Eternal Bloodlines

(4 Days Before Death)

Amidst the thickanticipation in the air, the club vibrated like an overcharged speaker drum. The lights dimmed, and a pink fog from the floor machines swirled upward, casting the stage in an ethereal glow. The music’s tempo rose to a deafening level, and the beats echoed the vibrant hip-hop culture in New Orleans.

The Pink Pussy was stacked and packed to the brim with her highest clientele. Every chair was claimed. Sophie had invested countless hours with an on-ground street team who spread the word about the club’s expansion. She sulked as a shadow, not her physical self. She remained in the furthest corner of the club.

DJ Spinz handled the message.

An eclectic mix of clientele filled the room. Supernatural beings—vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters, djinn, sirens, witches, and those who could pass for humans but carried an air of danger and dark energy—were all present. The energywas electric. Everyone seemed eager for one of Sophie’s special shows.

The DJ’s voice boomed through the speakers, “Alright, you freaks and freakettes, I smell pussy in the air… Ho’s and Bro’s, vamps and tramps, witches and bitches, prepare yourselves for a wet, nasty, sexy, and unforgettable experience. Direct from Baton Rouge, Louisiana, I present to you the baddest bitch in the pussy game… the one and only Creole Seraphina!”

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers as the spotlight focused on the center of the stage. The song “Shake Dat Ass” blasted through the sound system. Sonya, now fully transformed into Creole Seraphina, strolled from the shadows onto the stage in pink platform stilettos.

She wore a pink bikini thong adorned with sequins that slipped through her butt cheeks and covered her sex. The undergarment sparkled like stars under the lights, and star-shaped sequined pasties covered her large nipples. Her breasts were lifted by youth, and her curves were modeled right out of a man’s dream.

Bambi had helped her tease her hair to an exotic vibrance, it framed her face. She chose a pink lone-ranger mask that revealed only her long-lashed amber eyes. Sonya had waxed her entire body with a golden shimmer lotion.

“Stay with me, my guardian,” Sonya pleaded to her inner self as she scanned the vicious, predatory faces of the men and women who leered at her. Suddenly, her newfound power granted her the ability to hear their thoughts. Each one wanted a piece of her, their murderous desires darker than the next. But none of them were more interested than the man seated in the shadows of a booth near the DJ stand.

“I see him, my guardian. I am ready. I accept you,” she said.

As I do you, Sonya.

Sonya took a deep breath. The familiar rush of adrenaline thundered in her chest over the raunchy lyrics. She wrapped her hand around the pole. The cool metal grounded her as she began a twerk performance. She held on and dropped low on the dance floor. Her hips gyrated, and her buttocks shook, one up and own down with bounce and shake.

The rhythm took hold of her. Sonya's eyes closed as she slipped deeper into herself, feeling the darkness, enticing it to come for her. It did. Dark energy swirled around her legs, between her thighs, over her pussy, and then up to circle her breasts as a pink fog. She knew many in the audience were using the supernatural mix of powers to caress and stroke her. She allowed it and unleashed perfumed essence into the club. The enchantment took hold of every visitor, mortal or immortal.

Shakespeare sat in his booth. He scanned the text messages from Raven and Phoenix. He would respond to Domencio’s summons only. He cared about nothing and no one else now. The music played on, and he barely looked up.

Sophie was nearby.

Shakespeare could sense but not see her. She would probably attack someone soon, her madness now elevated over his rejection. He didn’t care. Sophie’s exile from his heart was permanent.

Instead, he was irked that Lucio would dump some new female vamp in his club for him to tend to. Only Sophie could prepare the young woman for the life she faced with a Draca now consuming her soul. And then he smelled pure, unfiltered femininity. It came over him like a cool breeze. Shakespeare’s gaze slowly lifted from his phone. He fixated on the beauty on the stage.

Creole Seraphina moved with the fluidity of water. Her body twisted and turned into a beautifully choreographed routine. She slid down the pole, her strength in her thighs added to hergrace now on full display as she scaled back up it, hung upside down, her legs wrapped around the steel like a vine. She twirled and spun out like a windmill, her movements a blend of sexual sensuality.

Throughout her performance, Sonya’s power sprayed the darkness with her essence, releasing an intoxicating pheromone that brought several supernatural’s to their feet. The danger mounted as a few snarls ripped through the crowd. Money guns lifted into the air and sprayed dollar bills all over the stage.

Shakespeare’s nails dug into the wood of his table. His fingers clawed down the surface in a long drag that made slithers of the wood curl up under his pointed nails. He had seen countless performances, but there was something different about her—something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. And then he did.

His phone beeped. His gaze dropped to the message from Phoenix that said:Guardian.

Shakespeare’s eyes stretched. His eyes followed her every move. His shock and amazement over the discovery froze him on the spot. Phoenix had taught them about Guardians. Their power and their appeal were the greatest aphrodisiacs to the Draca. It was just one of the old-timers’ stories. Make-believe in a world of the unbelievable. But Shakespeare knew in an instant what had a hold of him. A guardian had entered his club. The intensity of her presence hit him again like a heatwave. His Draca was alert.

Then she executed the perfect handstand on the pole, her body graceful and straight, and her stilettos walked the air. She used strength he didn’t think a mortal woman could possess to control her upside-down maneuvers. She was a tantalizing mix of sweetness and danger that drove his blood thirst to the brink of insanity.

When Sonya concluded her performance with a breathtaking finale, a long slide down the pole that landed in a graceful split, Shakespeare was already out of his booth and headed toward the stage with his fangs dropped. The crowd stood, money flying in every direction. Some wolves charged at the stage, but the guardian shielded herself and no one could get close. Though she wore a mask, her beautiful eyes locked on him and only him. He didn’t see fear, but defiance, before she turned and fled, not picking up a single dollar.

Did she know what he was?

Sonya hurried, feeling his dark presence behind her. She kicked off her stilettos and ran for her locker. Greta looked up when she burst through the door with a frown. The girls responded with excited wonder.

“Bambi!” Sonya yelled. “Collect the money on the stage. Split it with the girls! It’s yours.”

“We can’t go out there!” Bambi said. “It’s against the rules.”

“The stage is safe. It’s sealed. Get your money,” Sonya yelled back, and the Guardian sent a wave of energy to Greta that caused her to slip to the floor in an unconscious state. She grabbed her things and went into the bathroom to dress for battle.

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