The Nightlife: Paris (The Nightlife Series) Read online

  The

  NIGHTLIFE: PARIS

  By Travis Luedke

  The Nightlife: Paris

  Published by Travis Luedke

  Copyright 2013 by Travis Luedke

  Book Cover Art by Ida Jansson, Amygdaladesign.net

  http://www.amygdaladesign.net/

  FIRST EDITION

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Adult Reading Material (17+)

  Contains scenes of graphic sex and violence

  unsuitable for underage readers

  Publications by Travis Luedke

  The Nightlife Series:

  I The Nightlife: New York

  II The Nightlife: Las Vegas

  III The Nightlife: Paris

  BLOOD SLAVE

  IV The Nightlife: London December 2013

  V The Nightlife: Moscow 2014

  Young Adult novels by TW Luedke (Travis Luedke)

  the shepherd

  Chapter 1

  “Do you have any flights leaving New York after sunset that arrive in Paris before sunrise?” Aaron Pilan stared unblinking at the travel agent, assaulting her with the full bore of his gaze.

  “No sir, not commercial flights. I’m not sure about the charter flights.”

  Aaron glanced at the nameplate on her desk and tried a more personal approach. “Penelope, I need your help.” He drilled into her mind with his telepathic probe, digging through her thoughts and emotions. “How long is a flight to Paris?”

  “Well … it’s a seven hour flight at minimum, but the time zones …” He read Penelope’s every thought with ease. His eyes seemed to swallow her very soul with the wondrous intensity of his gaze. She fell under his spell in a matter of seconds. “Um … Paris is six hours ahead of New York, so it’s really thirteen hours …”

  “Help me, Penelope. Help me find a flight that leaves by 7:30 p.m. and arrives by 7:00 a.m. in Paris.”

  His eyes owned her as he read her mind. She couldn’t imagine disagreeing with him. She would give him anything – her heart, her body, her soul – just to know the truth behind his eyes. He read her infatuation as she moistened between the legs, staring at him like a love-struck teenager.

  “Um … one of the Gulfstream charters might be able to do that.” She thought hard, considering one company in particular that would fly anyone anywhere, under any circumstances, for the right price.

  “I knew you could help me.”

  He took her hand and she wet her underwear in anticipation. A blush of rosy heat crept up her face and her little pink tongue darted out to swipe her dry lips. Her desire to be kissed flooded her mind, washing over him as he sifted through her thoughts. She focused on the gleaming white teeth of his smile, and he knew she wished he’d drag her into the alcove and have her up against the wall. Too easy. He could bend her over the kiosk right there.

  He read all her fantasies, a series of delightfully wicked things she hoped for. Uncomfortably hot and bothered by his brief touch, Penelope’s fingers moved unsteadily over the keyboard. She tried not to look at him, but she couldn’t help herself.

  She cleared her throat. “Executive Pathways can expedite a transcontinental flight tomorrow night for $16,000. Oh wow, that’s really expensive, but they’ll leave whenever you like. Are you sure we can’t make one of these commercial flights work? I can get you first class at a discount …”

  “No thanks. I’ll take the charter.” His exacting flight schedule could not be compromised.

  She continued trying to dissuade him. “It’s only a couple hours difference ...”

  Two hours made all the difference. Vampires don’t do daylight. “I need two tickets.”

  “Two? But there’s no discount for the second ticket …”

  He followed her mind as she imagined accompanying him overseas. A foreign rendezvous, endless hours of sex in a French hotel suite. She’d let him do anything he wanted, repeatedly.

  Michelle arrived, slipping her arm around him intimately. Gorgeous, blonde, glamorous, she could’ve been a model fresh off the runway. Penelope’s fantasy crashed and burned, the screams of dying dreams echoing in her ears.

  He smiled at her again, and winked. “We’ll take two tickets.”

  Penelope swallowed her demolished pride. He felt a twinge of sympathy as Penelope realized she could never compete with a woman like Michelle. His master was so beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  “That’s $34,945.00 with taxes and fees. How will you be paying for that?” Penelope’s eyes kept drifting to the fabulous blonde draped around him.

  He handed over his gold card, the plastic so new and shiny it still smelled of Las Vegas. Well over six figures backed that account from his nights as a high roller in Vegas.

  She swiped his card and managed to smile without faltering. It touched him that Penelope wondered why she couldn’t have a man like him in her life. And then she glanced at Michelle under his arm, and she knew those women always stole all the Aarons for themselves. Penelope would have to make do scrounging for leftovers.

  He leaned towards her, stealing her breath with his proximity. “Penelope, why don’t you join us for a drink when you’re off work?”

  He followed her thoughts as she asked the question, is he worth sharing?

  “I promise you won’t regret it.” He smiled again.

  She bit her lower lip in anticipation. Yes, he was worth sharing, and the blonde might be fun too …

  * * * *

  Michael Jamison considered himself lucky to catch a glimpse of the vampires as they left in a taxi with the woman from the travel agency. Probably headed back to their hotel. He had followed their flight from Vegas to New York, arriving scant minutes after them.

  “That poor woman doesn’t have a clue what they’re going to do to her,” he murmured to himself from the backseat of the taxi following theirs. I wonder if they’re going to kill her. He shook his head.

  Once more he considered calling the police. But that would get messy. He wanted to continue following them to learn more. Police would be the end of it.

  In the course of investigating this unique pair of creatures, Mike had been privy to video footage that proved beyond a doubt Aaron and Michelle were, in fact, vampires, with astonishing physical capabilities. He had security camera recordings that captured the two of them moving at blinding speed, performing inhuman feats of acrobatics, and the coup-de-grace – tore the beating heart from a man’s chest, bare-handed. Vicious and merciless when provoked, he still found them awe-inspiringly graceful. He imagined the limitless possibilities available to those with such obvious superiority over mankind.

  He stalked them from a distance as they herded the woman into the hotel lounge, a lamb to the slaughter. They sat in a dark corner booth. He stole glances at them as they leaned in, so casual, a little nip in the woman’s neck. They could have been kissing, playing around. They seemed to be her best friends, her lovers, her confidants.

  He looked around at the other people in the
lounge to see if they noticed. Nothing. These two creatures sat there feeding off this woman who obviously loved every second of their attentions, and not one person in the room noticed. Mike could barely tell what they were doing, and only because he watched them so carefully. He watched for those little pointy fangs, and the flick of the tongue cleaning off the last bit of blood from her neck as they withdrew.

  After four years in the Marine Corps, a tour in Iraq, and another ten years chasing deadbeats around Las Vegas, Mike knew how to keep a sharp eye on a situation. He made his money watching things no one else noticed. But this time no one paid him to watch. He did it for his own intents. His last paying client had died three nights ago in the desert just north of Vegas. The vampires had torn off the man’s genitals and left him there. Not a nice way to die.

  Of all the bizarre and disturbing things he’d seen, Mike found this the most fascinating investigation of his life. He’d abandoned everything else in pursuit of these wickedly magnificent creatures. He was unshakably devoted to learning how to become a vampire.

  * * * *

  Aaron trailed his fingers over Penelope’s neckline and collarbone, watching her melt into his touch. “You like that, don’t you.” He pulled her hair aside from her neck and struck without warning, dipping razor sharp fangs into her neck. Michelle followed suit from the other side, biting down with a light loving nip.

  “Ouch ... that … oh my God, that’s wonderful!” Penelope writhed in their embrace, her hips squirmed. The overpowering effect of their double bite sang through her body, bringing her to a violent and immediate, gushing orgasm.

  “Oh God … oh yes!” She whimpered, barely able to breathe or speak.

  It only lasted a few seconds, but Aaron knew they’d gifted her with a multiple. She continued to twitch with it for another couple minutes after they released their bites, synchronized perfectly with one another. He and Michelle had their timing down to an art form, not too long, not too much.

  He petted Penelope’s hair possessively as she snuggled into his embrace, trying to mold herself to his body. Her hands flowed over him, finding his arousal. “I don’t how you did that, but I’m so ready right now. You don’t even know.” But he did know. He read her intense desire to go down on him right there in the booth.

  He projected silently to Michelle via their psychic bond.

  Her glare sliced him with disapproval. Master Michelle, ever the voice of caution.

  He tried to suppress the pain of Anastasia’s loss as it twisted in his stomach.

  Michelle reverted to French when her emotions flared.

 

 

 

  He extracted his arm from his warm embrace of Penelope’s shoulders and peeled her hands off his crotch. “As much as I wish we could, we can’t. We must go now. I’ll call you a taxi.” He drove home the point with his eyes, convincing her by force of will.

  Her disappointment and heartbreak washed over him. She wanted his cock sooo badly. And he wanted to give it to her till she couldn’t walk. But Michelle was right. She was always right. And his beautiful Anastasia had died. Putting Penelope at risk would not bring Anastasia back. He’d seen far too much death.

  “Really? I thought …” Penelope looked ready to cry.

  “I know. But it wasn’t meant to be. We had our moment.” He brushed his fingers over her cheeks.

  He dashed all her hopes and desires with a platonic peck on her lips and then led her out to the street to send her on her way. There would be no sharing of Aaron Pilan on this night.

  * * * *

  Moments after sunset, Michelle and Aaron were out the door and headed to the elevator, luggage already packed and waiting in a taxi on the street. The first challenge to overcome before flying across the ocean was the ever-present blood thirst. Like a cowboy lost in the desert in a 70’s western movie, Aaron’s thirst nagged perpetually at the edge of his awareness. Not too many chances to feed on a private charter jet.

  As he and Michelle entered the elevator, he took full advantage of the opportunity presented by a cute little Mexican maid dragging in her cleaning cart to hitch a ride down. He wasted not a second catching her attention. Trapped, unable to look away, he held her in place with his gaze, mesmerized.

  “Come here.”

  She stepped into striking distance. The cattle always behaved like this. They found the allure of his direct eye contact near irresistible.

  Aaron enfolded the maid in his embrace and bit her gently as the elevator descended. She tensed up in his grip, not understanding. “No Senor!”

  The euphoria of his venom penetrated her confusion in seconds. She hugged him sweetly. “Aye, que rico!”

  By the time he finished, she panted her spearmint bubble gum breath against his cheek, leaning into him for support. Her dark brown eyes looked up, dilated with the pleasure of her release. He took what he needed in full, her orgasm his gift in return. She had no complaints.

  She clung to him murmuring in Spanish. The cattle would follow him anywhere, seduced effortlessly. They were inexplicably drawn to both vampires, moths to their dual flames.

  Michelle had delivered her only explanation of their strange attraction after she saved his life two months ago, “This is the Magnétisme Animal of the vampires.” Her usual vague French-English mish-mash. He guessed she probably didn’t understand it either.

  He caught a blast of Michelle’s envy as she watched him with the maid. Her emotions and thoughts flowed across their intimate psychic bond. Watching him feed made her thirsty. She licked her lips, wanting to take a bite out of the girl, but held off. He had fed enough from the maid. Michelle lived by strict rules of moderation with the food.

  She found her dinner minutes later in the gift shop on their way out of the hotel. The shop attendant, a young male college student, scrambled to help Michelle find a good book. She moved in on him, close and intimate as he tried to describe the plot of the novel. In seconds he opened the collar of his shirt at her suggestion, entranced. She fed for almost two minutes straight, taking a healthy share. This feeding might have to hold her for the entire night.

  She left him dazed, swaying, a wet stain spreading across his pants. He looked after Michelle as she walked away licking her lips clean. They never want to let go. But she respected human life, and for that reason she refused to adopt ‘pets’.

  As they boarded their private jet on schedule, precisely fifty minutes after sunset, the second opportunity to feed presented itself. Aaron ascribed to a simple wisdom – when opportunity knocks, you should invite it to dinner.

  Moments after takeoff their stewardess Nancy, a forty-something single mother greeted them with refreshments. “You can take off your seatbelts now.”

  “Thank you.”

  He was up and on her before she could take a single step back. He dug into her mind as he smiled wide, a slight hint of fang showing. She had taken one look at his “GQ” magazine cover designer clothes and assumed they must be super models headed to a photo shoot in Paris. Few average people could afford flights like this, and they looked too damn attractive. She admired his youthful, slim build, all five-eleven of him. Noticing his sharp angular facial features and dark close-cropped hair, she thought, I don’t recall my son’s friends ever looking this good.

  She glanced to Michelle’s petite hourglass frame, perfect golden curls and flawless pale skin. Fucking supermodels. Michelle removed her rose-tinted glasses and treated Nancy to a disarming green-eyed stare.

  Nancy never had a chance of escape, though she tried to maintain a professional distance with a step back. On
her in an instant, he took her by the hand. She had nowhere to run.

  “Would you like some beverages or … or a snack?” She stammered, intimidated and aroused in equal measure.

  Michelle slipped into the aisle, sliding up on Nancy’s backside silently. Nancy turned towards her only to be entrapped in that emerald gaze. He still held her anchored by the hand.

  Michelle purred, “Oui, I would like a snack.” They struck simultaneously at opposite sides of her neck.

  “Oh shit! Let me … go …”

  Her knees buckled under the instant euphoria of their dual assault. Aaron scooped her up in his arms, holding her tight against his chest.

  “Oh Lord, help me!”

  They released her quickly, in perfect sync. He maintained his embrace as she recovered.

  He petted Nancy’s hair. “Thank you, much appreciated. That will be all for now. We’ll let you know if we need anything else. You can go.”

  She stared up into his eyes, her drugged gaze heavy with desire. He knew she wanted more. They always wanted more. A very bad idea. He’d made that mistake with Anastasia. He and Michelle had vowed never to use drugs again or lose control like they did in Las Vegas.

  He held Nancy’s gaze. “We’re fine, you can go.”

  “Oh.” She finally remembered herself, blushed with embarrassment, and wandered away.

  Nancy floated past several more times throughout the flight, trying her best not to stare. Feeding from her had been a mistake. She had developed an obsession.

  He followed her thoughts as she slipped up and down the aisle. She barely restrained herself from pestering them. She wanted to know how they did it. She wanted them to do it again. But she didn’t have the courage to cross that invisible line of propriety between flight attendant and passenger, not like they did. She tried to serve them to the best of her ability, but they had no further use for her.