The dark apparition peered about fearlessly from her high perch, her figure wrapped in the light of the full moon as she took in her suroundings. Sitting atop a tall sky-scraper she frowned, slightly disoriented, as she had never been in this city before. She had lost the trail of the one she hunted days ago, unable to count all the times over the millenia that she had found him, only to lose him again. His people were protective of him, and they knew she had a score to settle. But no vendetta was to be carried out this night as she sighed disdainfully at her dilemma. The wind rifled through her long golden locks, attempting to straighten her curls as her icy-blue eyes contemplated the city skyline for what seemed like the hundreth time within a fortnight. Leaping across the alley that seperated the sky-scraper upon which she had perched from one of a similar hieght to which she now leapt, her long black velveteen cloak billowed behind her, revealing a short black satin dress. Her dark stockings were held up by garters, each laced with throwing knives. A lady such as she had to protect herself somehow and she found handguns to be quite distasteful. The throwers did look out of place in the garters of her stockings as her black six-inch stiletto heels hit the roof of the other building. With a sigh, she removed the knives from her garters and put them in her handbag, Leaving the lace garters looking as if they were never designed to hold throwing knives in the first place. Seeing a door, she sauntered toward it slowly, cautiously, pressing the button that opened the doors of the service elevator as there was no doorknob. The doors slid open with a slight creak of protest and she perked an eyebrow in apprehension, but stepped inside, not knowing what awaited her, only knowing with any certainty that she was hungry. The elevator came to a shuddering halt at the tenth floor, which was where the suites in this particular building were. Stepping out with a sigh, she looked around, up and down the corridors of this strange place.

This night, like so many others, brought only saddness to him. Every evening brought to him the same routine; he stayed at work far too late finishing up projects, walked home to an empty apartment, drank a beer, then watched TV till he fell asleep, only to go back and do it all over again the following day. As he moved slowly down the street, looking unusually downtrodden, his mind continued to mull over the inadquacies in his life. Sienna eyes full of dispair scanned the pavement before him, his muscular six foot four inch frame clothed in a rather expensive suit and his short jet hair spiked and glinting in the glow of the streetlamps. His jacket hung on his finger over his shoulder as his head stayed bowed, watching the shadows pass beneath him from the streetlamps above. But as he plodded on, lost in his thoughts, his pace slowed and he looked up into the night sky and said aloud to the stark edifices, "I'm not staying in tonight; I'm gong to have some fun!" He then walked into his building, taking the elevator up to the tenth floor, which was where his apartment was. He maintained a more positive demeanor as he sung lightly, thinking no one was around, "I'm goin' out tonight, I'm goin' out tonight!" Pulling his keys from his pocket, he stepped lightly as he neared his apartment door.

He made it to the club in no time. It was growing steadily in popularity, with more and more people attending with each passing evening. After paying the cover charge the door opened for him and he entered the smokey, bass filled room. The music bumped through his chest as he sauntered to the back of the room toward an open table and silently watched the patrons pass. He waited for a waitress to come his way, ordering when she finally did. "I'll have a gin and tonic please" He smiled sweetly at the cute waitress and she returned his gesture. She just wants the tip he thought to himself but still tried to keep a positive mindset. Meanwhile, the huntress had nearly lost him in the crowd as the bass rattled her brain. She was unused to such places and was unsure just what kind of kick these mortals got out of them. Observing the room, she noticed the vitality that all the patrons brought with them, and her heart skipped a beat from excitement. She had not been around this kind of boisterious energy in millenia. She spotted several potential victims in the room, but she had set her teeth to the tall man she had followed. There was an inexplicable air of saddness around him, and those types had always attracted her, as their blood tasted sweet as their tears. She ran her tongue slowly over a fang in anticpation as she made her way through the crowd toward the table he sat at, but not directly to it. She decided to perch at the bar across from him and observe him for a while, maybe catch his attention and lure him to her. Silently she slid onto a barstool and ordered a scredriver, still observing him in a near meticulous fashion. A few people passed but really didn't give him much notice. Pulling out his blackberry, he scrolled through some names and made a couple of phone calls that went unanswered. He maintained his upbeat demeanor as the tender brought his libation and he tipped her generously. As he sipped slowly, he took out a pen and started to draw on the napkin under his drink, a pair of lovely lips with a very long sharp set of fangs peeking out of the parted mouth. Crudely drawn, he quickly put it into his pocket when the tender came back to check on him minutes later. "I'll have another; thank you, hun" He said, his smile wavering slightly as his gloominess attempted to take him over again. He kept his head down as the tender brought another drink to him with a new napkin. Again, he began to draw crudely on it--a vampire with long fangs crawling out of a coffin and a caption under it: Come closer; I want a bite. She watched him through the course of the evening, his eyes never making contact with hers. She sighed audibly, as she always hated to be the one to make the first move. It made her feel like a cat. She preferred to think of herself as a serpent, lying in wait until the oppertune moment to strike. But not this eve. Tipping the bartender, she slid off her stool and sauntered over to the table where the man sat alone and smiled sweetly at him. "Good evening", she began. "I noticed you sitting here alone while I was at the bar...care if I join you?"

Just as he finished writing he noticed her standing near the edge of the table. Quickly and awkwardly he put the other napkin in his pocket with his first drawing, then stood quickly and looked at her. "Oh....ummm...yeah, that would be fine. Please have a seat". He then sat down right after she did. Smiling seductively at him, she was careful of her fangs as she did not want to give away her intentions. Ordering a bourbon on the rocks at the waitresses' next pass, she then folded her hands demurely on the table and turned to him. "So, what brings you here tonight? I do hope I'm not interrupting a date." He was still a bit befuddled and nervous as he wondered if she saw his drawings and how long she had been standing there. Turning to her, he fumbled his words a bit. "Oh...well...I just wanted...to get out and not sit at home for one night. Nothing special. And don't worry; I'm not on a date." He then laughed lightly and asked, "...And what brings you out tonight?" She smiled at his nerveousness. She had not seen the drawings, so she thought that perhaps he had senced her intentions, or perhaps it was just because she was stunning. She had left her opera cape on, and it covered the rather revealing little black dress quite well. Taking a sip of her bourbon, she mulled the answer to his question silently for a moment. "I suppose that I was just out for a bit of fun, though this place really isn't quite my style. It does have an energetic atmosphere, though." She took another sip of bourbon, looking around the room, then turned her attention back to him. "But I'm being rude. Please forgive me--I hadn't even asked your name!" Nodding, he agreed with her taste in company. "This place isn't really all I'd hoped for, either. Too many people and the music is so loud you can barely think..." As he sipped on his gin and tonic he noticed a girl pass in skin tight PVC pants --which drove him crazy-- but he quickly turned his attention back to the dark and mysteriously beautiful woman currently in his company. "Oh, no worries; I haven't asked yours either. My name is Eric." He extended his hand towards her as he continued. "...and yours?" She took his much larger hand in her own, delicate-boned one and perked an eyebrow at him, a smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I am Arailea. It's a pleasure, Eric." She then winked at him. Looking about a bit, she asked, "So...if this isn't your idea of 'fun', what is? Perhaps we could go somewhere else more agreeable to both our tastes." Her smile faltered a tad as she heard the accent that she had tried so hard to mask leak back out into her voice.

He could barely hear her over the music but he smiled back at her and leaned in closer to reply. "It's my pleasure, Arailea. I'm not sure I'm ready to divulge what is more my taste, but I am much more agreeable to some place where a conversation can be held. Are you hungry? Maybe we could go get a bite to eat?" Normally, he was never that forward but he was trying to break out of his shell, and he pondered his new forwardness as he leaned back and awaited her response. She almost paled at his question. She was indeed hungry, but not for the food he had in mind. Still, she kept her calm and smiled, happy with the little game for now. "Of course. I feel a bit over-dressed for this establishment, anyway...and I'd like to be able to hear what you're saying to me over this frakus. What do you feel like? Steak? Italian? Anything tar-tar?" Alarmed at her own last suggestion, she did indeed pale, slapping a hand over her mouth. Recovering, she smiled sweetly but sheepishly at him again. "Please excuse me; I have strange tastes in cuisine. We could even do Cambodian or sushi, if you wish." She mentally slapped herself, hoping he wouldn't catch the slip. He looked strangely at her reaction and raised a brow only momentarily but let it pass, replying smoothly. "Well...I'm not sure what is open at this hour, but how about some conversation at the least. We might find a table at the outside cafe just down from my apartment." He began thinking to himself, I really feel like someone tasting me...a nice bite into my neck... Shaking his head at the thought, he managed to recapture his composure before speaking. "So, shall we find a table outside to further our conversation? It's not far from here." She nodded as she averted her eyes at the look he gave her, blushing in embarassment. The color lit up her pale complexion and she managed to reply, almost inaudibly. "...That sounds wonderful. The moon is gorgeous tonight, despite the smog..." She then looked up at him, her ice blue stare penetrating into his eyes. "...Besides, Eric, I would quite enjoy getting to know you better." Smiling at him engagingly, she noticed that she felt a touch tipsy and mentally chided herself for it.

He looked back deeply into her eyes and couldn't help but smile. Her gaze entranced him, almost feeling as if she were digging into his soul and feeling his mind. Standing, he reached into his back pocket to retrieve his billfold. He paid their bill, leaving a tip on the table for the waitress as he spoke. "Then let us go..." Taking her hand, he led her from the noisy, crowded club, remaining silent for the duration of the short walk. He made his way to the empty seats at the outside cafe just a few doors from his building, Arailea in tow. Her hand was slightly cold in his as she walked with him, feeling short even in fetish heels. Her cape flowed back behind her as she sauntered along beside him, its absence revealing her long stockinged legs and the high slit up the side of the dress that went to her hipbone. The breeze blew the slit open as well, teasing him with glimpses of her garters and the black thong she wore. However, it still modestly covered her shoulders and cleavage, not allowing him a peek at that. Pulling out a chair for her, he waited for her to sit and then took a seat across the table from her and asked, "...Is this a bit better?" Sitting down in the chair she was offered she smiled once again, her guard slipping slightly from the alcohol and revealing a long fang. Unknowing of the slip she settled back in the chair, cupping her chin in her hand and started to make smalltalk, her accent coming through clearly now. "So Eric, what is your occupation? Where are you from?" Her smile was genuine, alcohol or no. As he sat in the chair across from her he smiled, looking her over. He found her more alluring every moment he looked at her shapely figure and incredible features. Leaning back in his chair a bit he tried to appear comfortable, although it was apparent to anyone that he clearly wasn't. He had always gotten incredibly nervous around girls....especially girls as beautiful as she was. When she asked his occupation he reached into his shirt pocket to pull out a card, only to find he had none there. He was so used to having them there he simply did not hesitate. Instead, the drawing of a fanged beauty crawling from the coffin asking for a bite slid out and landed on the ground. He paused for a moment, wondering if he should reach for it or pretend he didn't see it. He decided to try to play it off and answer her question. "Well...I um...I am a photographer...I do freelance photography..." He kept looking nerveously out of the corner of his eye at the napkin on the ground, wondering if she'd see.

Seeing the napkin fall from his pocket, she followed it with her eyes as it drifted to the ground and revealed his drawing. Her eyes widened at the depiction and she wondered silently to herself if he really had found her out. Deciding to follow his nervous lead she continued the conversation, her mind puzzling out how to get around this setback and earn his trust. "...A photographer, eh? That must be a fascinating line of work. Do you travel with it? What sort of things do you photograph?" He couldn't keep his mind off of the napkin that fell, wondering if she even knew. She didn't let on like she knew, so he again tried to play it off and continued the discussion. "Well, it does give me some very cool opportunities and great hours. I can pretty much set my own schedule but I work very long hours. I do mainly landscapes but I'm fine with..." He allowed his words to trail off and sighed heavily as he noticed her eyes gazing towards the drawing. He felt like he had to say something. "Did...did you see that? The napkin?" Deciding it was best to not make a big deal out of it she chuckled, the dark sound rolling from her throat like silk. "I did indeed." She perked her brow at him and continued. "Bit of an artist as well, are we?" Smiling at him again, she thought that perhaps he had not caught on after all. She was thoroughly enjoying this comely gent's company, so she changed the topic back to what he had mentioned about his work. "Landscapes? I bet your photographs are breathtaking. The long hours, however, don't sound as appealing. Must not leave much time for your sweetheart. Do you photograph things besides landscapes?" She had clasped her hands primly beneath her jaw, her chin resting on them as she contemplated him with those icy blues. He was taken aback by her reaction to the napkin as he leaned over and picked it up, looking at it again. "I guess you could say I am an artist..." His words trailed off as he wondered if he should go along with the topic on the napkin or simply go along with her discussion. She was very intriguing to him; not at all put off by the drawing... "Wait--the drawing doesn't bother you? Doesn't make you think I'm some kind of freak?" He looked nervously at her as he awaited her response.

She looked at him strangely because of his reaction, then laughed out loud, the sound like bells on the wind. "Bother me!? Why dear Eric, what do you take me for, a sheltered schoolgirl!? Why in the world would it bother one such as myself?" She blushed at her own forewardness, then smiled ruefully, changing her tone a bit, voice smooth as satin. "But forgive me; you don't know me that well yet. Of course I don't think you're some kind of freak. Every man is allowed his fantasy, am I correct?" Her blue eyes sparkled myrthfully, now certain that he hadn't figured her out. She was in the heat of the game and enjoying herself immensely. When she said 'one such as myself' it made him think. Why wouldn't it bother her--who has fantasies about vampires besides me? Indeed, it was quite a strange fixation that most would consider odd. "You mean..." --he leaned in and spoke quietly so no one else could hear-- "The fact that I want to walk into a room with a coffin, see a vampiress crawl out and call me to her to surrender to her bite...makes me..." He paused for a moment and closed his eyes, feeling his heart thump a bit more as a flush bloomed on his face. "Well...makes me...um...ya know?" He rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled nerveously, almost certain that he'd blown it with her. Arailea was now intrigued. It was not oft that she met a mortal such as this. She found them amusing, but she also found them rather charming. Deciding not to tip her hand just yet, she went along as best she could, smiling her seductive smile once more, her soft crimson lips shimering softly in the light of the moon and streetlamps. "I do not consider that odd. There are much stranger fantasies that I have come across in my time. Many people find vampires quite alluring...why else would they have written so many books and made so many films on the subject?" Satisfied with her answer, she leaned back in her chair and untied her cape, letting it fall from her shoulders to the chair's back and revealing her ample cleavage, as well as the runic tattoo on her left shoulder.

He was taken aback by her answers and resolved, calm demeanor. As her cape left her shoulders he caught a glimpse of her cleavage--which only made her more sexy--but he did not stare. His mind was still caught up in his own thoughts and he was speaking without really thinking now; she had wrapped his mind in knots. "I guess you're right, but there is just something unbelievably sexy about a woman with long sharp fangs licking them...licking my neck and begging to bite..." He stopped abruptly and realized he was talking about it in far too liberal a manner. "I apologize. This must bore you to no end or make you uncomfortable. I am so sorry." Her deep, earthy chuckle rolled from her throat again. She liked this mortal; she had to admit that to herself now. He was quickly, in her mind's eye, becomming more than just a meal. Deciding to just enjoy his company for a bit longer, she looked at him, lost in his own thoughts. "No apologies are necessary, I assure you. I am niether bored nor uncomfortable, yet rather intrigued." She winked at him as she continued. "And as long as you don't have a Raul Julia fetish, I assure you that we'll get along famously." Finally snapping out of his own fantastic thoughts, he was able to resume a semi-normal line of chat with this most surprising woman, and chuckled a bit. "You have no idea how strange this is. No woman I've ever met has been so...accepting...when this topic has been brought up. I do have other fetishes, but nothing to do with Raul Julia." He laughed lightly before continuing. "But I must say, it is getting quite late. Do you...ummm...live far...from here?"

She chuckled again as she answered him. "I'm like no other woman you've ever met, and I am quite relieved that there are no Raul Julia fetishes in your repertiore. I concur; it's getting very late, and I do live quite far from here. My current place of residence is Venice. Silly me forgot to book a hostle for my trip..." She let the archaic word slip out as if it were nothing, not even noticing it in the place of the modern 'hotel'. In his own mind, Eric was scratching his head. How did she get here from Venice? Why is she here? He shook his head, then spoke nerveously once again. "Well...I guess...my place..." He said quite squeemishly "...is right around the corner...if you need...some place...to stay?" Looking at him she blushed, then spoke, her voice full of amusement. "Oh my, would that not be improper for a lady to spend the night at a gentleman's abode on the first date?" She then laughed again. "Well, it's too late to book a room, but are you certain that I wouldn't be imposing? You don't have a lady to go home to, I take it, or you wouldn't be making this offer." She batted her eyes at him, her lips pursed poutily. He could tell she was trying to be sweet and seductive and it was working. Pushing his chair away from the table, he stood and offered her his hand, beginning to speak. "No; there is only me. I have a very comfortable bed which you can use while I sleep on the couch. I promise you no funny stuff." She smirked at him and stood, taking the offered hand as they began walking from the cafe, down the street and towards his apartment building.

It was but a short time later that they arrived at his apartment door and entered his humble abode. Closing the door behind them, he locked it and turned to face her, smiling tiredly as he spoke. "Welcome to my home; please make yourself comfortable here. My place is your place." She smiled at him again, once more a genuine smile. Looking around the place, she noted aloud, "This is quite nice..." And then she turned to him, a bit of warmth breaking through the icy exterior of her eyes. "Thank you for being such a gentleman, Eric. You have no idea how much I appreciate it, and thank you for your gracious offer, though I must decline turning you out of your own boudoiur. I couldn't think of it. If it's all right with you, I will take the couch." Eric nodded and walked over to his small linen closet, taking out some blankets for her. "Well thank you. It's only modest..." He smiled at her once more as he walked back to her and handed her the bedding. "...If you insist, I shall leave you to the couch. I must concede that I am quite tired, if you don't mind my retiring to my room?" He kept thinking, this would be the perfect time to be taken for a bite, while I'm in bed... He looked deeply, almost searchingly into her eyes, then spoke in a soft voice, laden with his drowsiness and churning thoughts. "I hope you sleep well my dear..." He then turned toward the stairs that led to his bedroom and added almost as an afterthought, "...If you need anything, please help yourself." For some reason, Arailea's mind began racing. She honestly liked this mortal and for once in her life didn't want to just decend upon him and suck him dry. On the same note, she didn't want to seduce him too quickly. There was just something about this one. Thinking fast, she formulated a plan, then looked at him, her seductive smile gracing her lips. "Not at all; pleasant dreams, and thank you, Eric. You have been so much more than kind to me." She gave him a wink that was almost conspiratorial. "...I hope all your fantasies come true. You seem like a very nice individual, and you deserve it. She then sat down on his couch, crossing her long legs, the slit in her dress falling open, and grinned. He turned back as she spoke, watching her get more comfortable on the couch as he stood at the bottom step of the stairs. "Feel free to make yourself at home...and I too wish my fantasies to come true." He winked back at her, then turned and climbed the stairs to his room. Stepping inside, he disrobed to his boxers, tossing his clothes into the hamper in the corner of the room and lay down in his bed. His mind was racing; he wouldn't be able to sleep with the conversation they were having tonight. Staring at the ceiling, he discovered he subconciously kept running his hand along his neck, wondering what she was doing downstairs.

She let long minutes pass, each one seeming like an ironic mini eternity to her. She was enjoying the game far too much this time, was getting too deeply involved and she knew it. The minutes passed to a quarter hour, then a half. After about an hour and twenty minutes after he had vanished upstairs, she decided to make her move. rifling through her handbag, she pulled out a change of clothes, slipped out of her dress and into them, and crept up the stairs towards his door, her heart pounding like it never had previously. He lie there, unable to sleep, his eyes closed, then open, closed, then open, playing with the thoughts in his mind. When his eyes closed he pictured her opening his door in a tight latex catsuit covered in a long satin cape, with the high stand up collar behind her head and long sharp fangs, hissing at him to come to her and feed her...begging him to let her bite his neck. His breathing changed between heavy and shallow at times with these thoughts, droplets of cold sweat forming on his brow. Still, he attempted to sleep but his eyes would not stay closed for long periods of time.

Reaching his door, she hesitated before she opened it, feeling almost foolish. Who was she, the princess of her clan, to fulfill a mortal's fantasy? Sighing softly, she admitted to her self again that she liked the man. Too much. She didn't even have a want to kill this one. Mustering her courage, she slowly opened the door, peering into his room and stepped inside, wearing the black fetish heels and a black leather bodysuit, a red velvet shroud around her shoulders. Not knowing weather he was awake or asleep, she called to him, her accent full, almost as volouptous as her scant dress had made her bosom to be; "..Arise, my minion, your master must feed..." Lying there with his eyes closed, he was almost asleep when he heard the voice. His mind registered it as a dream, not capable of being true. His eyes did not open, but his mind going crazy as the thoughts seemed all too real. "Yes mistress...I so badly want to feed you....give me your kiss on..." His eyes opened wide with surprise as he startled awake and looked toward the end of the bed, his eyes almost popping out of his head at the sight of her. "What...what are you doing!?" He exclaimed in a mixture of different levels of surprise and sleepiness. Wordlessly she advanced on him, placing her face in the nape of his neck, partly to hide the embarassment on it. Since she was already there, she wrapped her arms tightly around him and took a long, slow lick of his neck, prepping it for a bite. Her blush gone, she looked him in the face, her fangs now quite obvious against her deep red lips. "I must feed...and I have chosen you..."

When he felt her on him he quickly awoke from the last vestiges of his slumber in a bit of fright. As he wasn't used to anything on him or licking him he jumped up, tossing Arailea to the side as he then stood next to the bed on which she was now laying. He looked down at her, the long sharp fangs visible and his eyes fixated on her. "Oh my god, I'm so...sorry....am I dreaming?" Extending his hand toward her to help her up, he asked her, almost breathlessly, "...Is it true, my dear?" She blinked in confusion at getting thrown on the bed, then looked up at him, cracking a smirk. "No, you're not dreaming; I'm as real as that tart in the PVC pants was". She chuckled darkly and took his hand, but instead of him helping her up, she pulled him to her, her fangs glinting in the pale light emanating from his room's open blinds. This time she moved a bit slower, once more licking his neck with her eager tongue. "I want, no...I need to feed from you..." As he buckled from her tug and fell onto her, he trembled, feeling her icy cold tongue slither slowly over his neck. He was beginning to realize it was not a dream. She was indeed his fantasy; she wanted and needed to feed from him. Rolling over so that she was now on top of him, he looked up determinedly into her eyes, loving the sight of her fangs as he spoke in a husky voice. "...And I need to feed you, mistress." He propped himself up on his elbows and kissed her deeply, raking his tongue over one of her fangs and drawing blood. Slowly, he layed his head down and looked up at her with his mouth open, his bleeding tongue visible. Her heart beat faster, pounding in her chest. She hadn't been this excited by a 'victim' in centuries, if ever. She looked down at him, her blue eyes blazing cold fire and breathed in a deep, sensuous sigh at his words, trembling as she saw the blood. Doing something to a mortal she hadn't done in more than a millenia, she leaned over and kissed him deeply, her tounge lapping erotically at the blood in his mouth.

His tongue was bleeding strongly, the kiss filled with his blood. He could sense her lust growing within her as she kissed him like he'd never been kissed in his life. As he pulled away and looked back up at her he smiled devilishly at her, speaking wryly. "Do you want more, my lovely?" She perked an eyebrow at him, grinning coyly as she brushed one of her long blonde curls out of his face. "Of course I want more; am I dead?" She chuckled wickedly at her own joke, then put her face two inches from his, staring into his eyes, the scent of his own blood on her breath as she spoke. "I believe, my dear Eric, the question is not if I want more, but indeed is if you want more." Looking deeply into her eyes when she asked if he wanted more, he simply reached around her back and pulled her close, cradling her head and pulling it to his neck while whispering in her ear. "I so badly want more; I want to feel your fangs in..." At that moment, the worst of times and at 2 in the morning, the doorbell rang incesantly. Arailea, her fangs brushing his neck, growled at the sound. With a sigh, she stood, glaring at the door. "...I suppose you had better answer that..." With that, she turned and slipped quietly into his bathroom to wait. His heart was racing in anticipation and was saddened to see her stand and walk away. Reluctantly, he stood up and rushed to the door the see how quickly he could rid them of such a rude interruption. As he opened the door it couldn't have been a more annoying site...his ex-girlfriend. The short, hazel-eyed brunette pushed her way inside frantic and frazzled, asking "I saw you with another girl tonight...who was she?" He let out a sigh and shook his head, answering her in an annoyed tone. "Look, Emily, we broke up two months ago! What the fvck are you doing here?"

Hearing the frackus, Arailea changed back into the dress she had been wearing when they met. There was nothing more annoying to her than being interrupted by a foolish mortal, especially a female one. Carefully concealing her fangs, she opened his bedroom door and walked downstairs, primping herself a bit on the way down. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she leaned against the wall, watching the arguement with a bemused expression, her blue eyes icily sizing up the blue-jeaned and T-shirted woman Eric had called 'Emily'. Eric took Emily by the arm and tried pushing her out of the door but she insisted on staying, especially seeing and hearing Arailea coming down the stairs, only barely in view of them sparring at the door. "Is that her?" Emily asked as she began to walk towards Arailea. Eric took her by the arm again and stopped her from approaching the vampiress. "Just go!" He shouted. Arailea smirked darkly. This night was turning out to be even more entertaining than she had first thought it would and she decided to cause a bit of chaos. Stepping from the shadows, she donned her best Brooklyn accent and strode quickly toward the girl, her hips swinging. "So what if he was with me tonight? What's it to you, ya' dumb broad! Wanna make a big deal outta it and I'll take ya down!"

Eric turned around when he heard the New York accent and looked at her with a puzzled, yet amused look on his face. Walking over to Arailea, he took hold of her with both arms, making it look as if he was restraining her and smiled down at her, whispering in her ear. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed in a wisper while holding back laughter, "Where did that come from?" She put a hand on his shoulder, her hair falling in her face so Emily couldn't see that she was whispering to him and grinning. "...Just watch me work, lovely..." She turned back to Emily, patting Eric affectionately on the arm and donning the Brooklyn accent again. "Eric babycakes, don't worry; I won't do nuthin' that could hurt the baby." She glared at the woman. "You need ta' get outta here; we're gettin' married, y'know! I'm pregnant with his kid, and you need to leave him alone. He's mine now so BACKOFF!" She walked around him as she spoke, him taking assurance in her abilities and letting her work. As she spoke he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, hoping to give credence to her story and rested his head on her shoulder. he gently kissed her neck as he looked at Emily and then proceeded to whisper in her ear softly so Emily couldn't hear, "...You could drain her my dear, if you so wished..."

Arailea's spine tingled at the proposition. Letting her hair fall in her face, she then asked him in a hushed whisper but quite literally, "...And just what would we do with her carcass? I don't have my servants here to dispose of such things for me at this moment..." She looked at him, her jaw set, eyes blazing with excitement but covered by a veneer of resolve. Once again, he looked at Emily, then asked "...Would you excuse us for a moment? I'd like to try to difuse the situation before it gets out of hand." Taking Arailea's hand, he walked to the steps and out of view and sound of Emily, not allowing the flabbergasted girl time to react. He looked deeply into the vampiresses' eyes and spoke softly. "I can see the excitement in your eyes at my proposal. I will take care of the...body. I want you to know that I want to serve you and this can be my first 'present' to you...but please" He leaned in and kissed up her neck before continuing, "When you finish...leave room for dessert my dear. Do you wish to change into your other attire?" Arailea considered this silently for a few moments, then said, "I can drain her to within an inch of her life without actually killing her. That kind of severe blood loss in a mortal usually throws them into amnesia...and you could take her home while she's passed out. I don't want to cause trouble for you; and you'd surely get caught if you disposed of her. What say thee?" He thought about it for only a moment and then ran his hand over her face, answering softly. "My dear, if this is what you think best, then I shall not argue. That sounds like a wonderful plan. What do you need me to do to help you get to a point where you could drink of her?" She cracked a sly grin, her eyes narrowing before she spoke in a hushed tone. "...Anger her. She throws herself at me in a rage, and she'll never know what bit her. Anger stirs me." She winked coyly at him and headed into the bathroom to change. Upon her return, she rimmed his ear with her fingernail and whispered to him conspiratorily. "Do you have a means to get her away once she's passed out?" He assured her with a whisper, "I can take care of this. I still have the key to her apartment and she lives alone, so that shall not be a problem. I think I know what will anger her..." He bit his lower lip in a sly grin and turned the corner to again approach Emily. He spoke to the ex cockily. "Arailea wanted me to ask you why it was so difficult to get me off. It took her no time at all!" He awated her response, seeing the anger welling in her eyes as she began to shout. "Alright, where'd she go? Where'd the bitch go?!?

A dark smirk of glee crossed Arailea's face as she sauntered down the stairs to meet the angered woman. Upon seeing her she stopped, her muscles tencing as she waited for Emily to come at her. She made no attempt to hide her amusement now; that usually made mortal women such as this all the more angry. Smirking, she bided her time, waiting for the angry responce. Eric moved out of the way as Emily angrily pushed passed him when she saw Arailea come to the bottom of the steps. She paused for a moment when she saw the altered attire but approached her anyway, screeching. "Who the fvck do you think you are? He never complained in bed with me! I'm just not some leather clad slut, like some people..." Arailea, always the show woman, decided to ag her on. Tilting her head back, she cackled wildly, dropping the Brooklyn accent for her real one. "Leather-clad slut, you say!? You're only jealous because they don't make leather catsuits to fit dumpy, muffin-hipped little girls like you! You wish you could be me, and I'm willing to wager that you want me as badly as he does!" Smiling at her seductively, she hoped it would send the woman over the top to her breaking point so she would lunge at her. As Eric stood watching Arailea work, he marvelled at her ability to get inside Emily's head. Emily's jaw dropped at her comments about her figure and interest in sleeping with her. Emily turned, mouth agape, toward Eric and he simply smiled...and that pushed her over the edge, turning back to the vampiress and rushing her, hands towards her throat. "You BITCH!"

Like the serpent that Arailea prided herself to be, she struck. Waiting until this 'Emily' got within her range, she leapt at her, her own hands comming up between the livid ex-girlfriends' and grabbing her wrists, forcing them to Emily's sides as Arailea brought her to the floor. Her legs wrapped around Emily in a ju-jitsu-like submission hold to keep the girl from kicking her. Her eyes wide and wild from the fight, she bit deeply into Emily's jugular and drank visiously. If pythons had legs, they certainly would have looked something like she did when she was wrapped around the other woman. Eric watched in amazement at how quickly and smoothly the vampiress took Emily down. Surprised, he jumped a bit but then calmed and smiled; when she bit down it excited even him as he ran his hand over his own neck. When Emily began to scream he crawled over to the mangled feeding and pressed his hand over her mouth to muffle her cries, looking down at the scared ex with a smile and whispering almost soothingly to her. "Please, do you want someone screaming in your ear while you eat?" He could hear the slurping sounds of Arailea's feeding and loved every moment of it. As the blood gushed into her mouth, all of Arailea's sences heightened. Colors were brighter, sounds were clearer, scents sharper. Trembling as she nearly sucked the life out of the one called Emily, she then pulled away. Dropping the woman's unconcious form, she crawled off of her and sat on the floor next to her, Emily's blood dribbling down one side of her chin. She sat there as if she were in a daze for a moment, then looked up at Eric with a languid smile.

When Arailea pulled away from Emily's neck he gazed at the beautiful puncture wounds on her neck and then over at the sated vampiress. Seeing the blood that adorned her chin, he slowly reached a finger over and wiped it up, offering it to her rose soaked lips. As he leaned back it was clear the sexual excitement that the vision had caused as he embarrassedly tried to hide it. Beginning to come back to herself a bit, Arailea looked at the blood-covered finger and a grin slowly began to spread across her face. Slowly taking his finger in her mouth, she sucked the blood off it sensously, her tongue lapping at his skin until only the taste of flesh remained as her eyes roamed slowly over his body, impressed with his physique. Noticing his 'problem', she let go of his finger and chuckled, the sound dark and seductive as it rolled from her tongue. She then looked up at him and, giving a coy smile, said, "...Perhaps we should pick up from where we started, my pet? You won't have to worry about her; she'll be out for days if I didn't just turn her into a vegetable." Feeling her tongue and lips enclose his finger did not help his 'problem' and only excited him more. He closed his eyes and spoke in a soft voice, nearly quavering from his lust. "I think that is a grand idea, mistress--did you enjoy your meal? I must say that was the sexiest thing I have ever seen in my life. Do you want to sink those fangs into my neck just like you did hers?" He tilted his head to the side, his eyes looking up at her with an anticipatory grin on his lips as they sat on the floor. She chuckled, reguarding him for a moment. "...You really want me to be that rough with you? By the Gods but aren't you a masochist." She shook her head ruefully. "I had something slightly different in mind for you, my lovely, but if want this rough...although, tis' not a good way for a vampiress such as myself to begin a relationship with my continuous blood donor..." He nodded at her suggestion and replied, "I agree. You can do with me as you wish mistress, for I am only here to please you and you do know what is best." Reclining, he rested his back on the couch, sitting up on the floor and keeping a watchful eye. "...Instruct me as to how best to serve you..."

Wordlessly she rose to her hands and knees, crawling toward him. Reaching his location, she gently tilted his neck to the side and looked at him. "...I've never had a bloodslave, nor a mortal pet, so I'm not exactly certain." She smirked coyly at him, then continued. "Looks like this is going to be a learning experience...for both of us..." With that, her fangs slowly penetrated his neck and she wrapped herself around him. Her fangs slowly sinking into his skin his eyes opened wide and his hand cradled the back of her head, holding it close to his neck. "Yessssss...oh...my...god!" The feeling was unreal and so erotic to him that he let out a soft moan while his body slid down to lay flat on his back. Her body following his, she pressed her fangs into his neck the rest of the way, the first droplets of his blood rolling onto her tongue, softly caressing the skin of his neck with it. His blood was rich and spiced by his life experiences, a taste the likes of which she had never encountered before. Sucking on the wound, she pulled his blood gently from him, savoring the taste and relishing the experience as she pressed her body firmly to his.

He could feel her lips encompass the wound and begin sucking his essence as his excitement grew and he spoke to her huskily. "Drink my mistress; fill yourself. Please, take another bite and enjoy as I am!" His breathing was growing heavier with each passing second. She slipped a hand under his head, her fingers playing in his hair as she slowly drank his life's essence. Pulling her head down slightly, she ripped the holes a touch, allowing more blood to flow into her mouth. She was throughly enjoying his reaction. The fingernails of her free hand clawed seductively down his chest and she trembled, hearing his moan of extacy. Eric felt completely taken in by her, being wrapped in everything that she was, them as one for the moment. His back arched and his moans grew louder as her fingernails drug down his chest. His hand began raking down the leather that covered her back. The hand cradling her head pulling at her hair a bit, hoping she would release and bite into the other side again, as he wanted the kiss again and again. Taking the hint, Arailea released the bite reluctantly and looked deep into his eyes, her chest heaving. Slowly she brought her face to his and kissed him deeply, her hands now wandering over every contour of his body. She kissed him for a long moment, then pulled away, biting deeply into the other side of his neck, her bite a touch more rough this time.

Over the course of the evening, she had all but forgotten her millenia-old vendetta.