Zane's Tale

Zane's Tale

Published by Jill Myles at
Smashwords.

Copyright 2010 by Jill Myles

Art by
http://km245.deviantart.com

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced,
scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without
the author's permission.

This is a work of fiction. Names,
characters, places, and incidents either are products of the
author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events or locales or persons, living, dead, or undead, is
entirely coincidental.

About This
Book
: This is a short story involving Zane
the vampire (of the Succubus Diaries). It takes place
between
Succubi Like It Hot
and
My Fair
Succubi
.

Zane’s Tale

Some days, eternity was far too
long.

Zane awoke from the day-slumber to see
the queen looming over him, her sharp fingernails scratching a
pattern onto his bare shoulder. Her red eyes gleamed with interest
as his eyes met hers. Nitocris’s mind pressured his own,
overwhelming his senses with the possessive murk of it. Need and an
angry urge to possess flared through his brain. The thoughts were
not his, but hers.

“
I have decided you will
feed me again today,” Nitocris said, her voice a low, throaty hum
full of triumph.

Punishment. Again. Careful to hide any
emotion, Zane swung his legs over the side of the marble bier and
extended an arm toward her with an almost bored expression. “Eat
up.”

The queen smiled, revealing her
razor-sharp teeth. She crooked a finger at him, slowly beckoning.
“Give me your neck.”

Anger and resentment burned through
him, and were quickly drowned out by the force of her will. No
vampire could shut out the queen, or the heavy, dominating thoughts
she impressed on their minds. Zane closed his eyes as he was forced
to his knees so he wouldn’t see her triumphant look.

His thoughts were of Jackie as the
queen’s mouth descended on his skin.

*~*~*~*~*

When the queen was finished with him,
he escaped the mansion’s grounds and emerged into the cool night
air. The sun was no more than a suggestion on the horizon, and the
stars were coming out. He sucked in several deep breaths, hating
the memory of the queen’s mouth on his throat, her low growls of
pleasure, and the throaty laugh she gave when she realized he was
stiff with hatred.

For four thousand years, he’d willingly
– and gratefully – served at her feet. Took every command as if it
were his own desire, sought to anticipate her needs before she even
requested them. Her demands had been his own. He had been the
queen’s loyal and devoted prince. And somewhere in the last year…it
had all changed. Instead of looking forward to her evil tasks and
sadistic whims, he was torn. He thought of Jackie every time the
queen sent him out. His thoughts were consumed by the succubus and
how innocent she was in comparison to him, and how trusting. She’d
loved him. That love and faith in him made serving Nitocris
unbearable.

But he’d endure, because it kept Jackie
safe.

The blood craving rolled over him,
making his wings twitch and his skin crawl. The blood need was
always present, always strong. Tonight, he loathed it. Reaching for
his cigarettes, he crammed one between his lips and lit, desperate
to have the nicotine hit. Cigarettes helped dull the blood need,
but only a little. His teeth ached, as if reminding him of what he
had to seek very soon.

“
Can I bum one of those?” A
figure emerged from the shadows and grinned, all fangs and leather
jacket. One of his brothers – Caleb, freshly awakened from his
night sleep. Caleb was one of the youngest looking vampires – yet
he was just as old as Zane, and cut from the same cloth. A ringed
tattoo around one eye tried (unsuccessfully, in Zane’s opinion) to
make him look a bit older. “I’m fresh out of smokes.”

Zane tossed the pack to him. “Keep it.
I’m about to head out.”

He didn’t have to say where he was
going – everyone with wings knew. Blood had to be acquired every
night in order to survive. And he’d feed, even though he’d hate
every moment of it. He would do what he had to; he always
did.

Zane smoked in silence next to Caleb,
watching as the mansion was vacated by a flood of vampires, each
one seeking his nourishment for the evening before heading out on
whatever task that the queen had given her lackeys. The skies
filled with them for a brief minute, the sound of a hundred pairs
of rustling wings bringing a sharp bolt of nostalgia to Zane’s
chest.

What a perverted, dark existence he was
living now, he thought with a wry smirk, and dropped his cigarette
to the ground, crushing his boot heel over it. He shrugged off his
jacket and spread his black wings, flexing them wide with an almost
orgasmic feeling. The wind brushed against his feathers; it was one
of the best sensations in the world. Perverted and dark his
existence might be, but not without a small perk. The blood gave
him wings, and in the end, he did not regret the blood.

He only regretted that the queen kept
him from Jackie.

To his surprise, Caleb was still there
at his side, cigarette in hand as he watched Zane prepare to fly
off.

“
Something troubling you,
brother?” Zane asked in a light tone, distracted. Maybe tonight he
could feed quickly and head back to New City. Check in on Jackie
over at her apartment. See how she was doing without him. Was she
happy? Sad? Was she even thinking about him? These were answers he
wanted, and he wasn’t above spying in windows to get them. Jackie
would never have to know he stopped by – nor would Nitocris. Quick
and brief, and take the edge off of his longing for her. No one
need be the wiser.

Caleb’s face twisted in a wry grin, the
circular tattoo around his eye contorting as his eyes crinkled.
“You aren’t yourself, brother. It’s concerning to me.”

Concerning in that Caleb wanted to be
the prince, and was looking for an angle to support his own cause.
Zane smirked at the other vampire. “And who am I, if not myself,
Caleb?”

“
That’s what I’m trying to
figure out,” Caleb said easily, grinning as he took another drag on
his cigarette. “I thought you were done with that piece of tail you
left to that fuckface Noah?”

His entire body tensed, but Zane forced
himself to slowly flex his wings, as if testing the wind. “She’s in
the past. A momentary diversion, that’s all.”

Caleb flicked his cigarette onto the
ground. “You keep saying that, but I don’t know that I entirely
believe it.”

“
I don’t care what you
believe,” Zane said in a tight voice. “My loyalty is to
Nitocris.”

“
Only because she has your
balls in a vise. I’d be curious to see what happens once she loses
control of you.”

Zane said nothing.

Caleb just grinned. “I’ll be watching
you.”

“
You do that.”

*~*~*~*~*

Club Midnight was crawling with the
usuals. Zane knew this even before he gave a quick nod to the
bouncer and stepped past him into the club. It was early yet – the
sun had set only a short time ago – so the dance floor was only
lightly populated. That was fine, as he wasn’t interested in
dancing. He gave the bartender a fist-bump in greeting and touched
the door behind the bar, stepping into the antechamber that weeded
the posers from the vampires and their chosen female snacks for the
evening. It was completely black in the antechamber, but he didn’t
need light to see – vampire eyes could see just fine in darkness.
He nodded at the vampire on door duty and moved past, descending
into the secret basement of Midnight, where the real action
happened.

Like every night, the downstairs was
packed. The room down here smelled of vodka mixers, perfume, and
the undercurrent of sex and blood. The air was thick with a haze of
cigarette smoke. Vampires lounged in the booths or hung out at the
bar. A few played pool at nearby tables. There was a dance floor
down here, but it was empty, and the heavy bass thump from upstairs
was a mere suggestion. Women – vampire groupies – flitted back and
forth between red-eyed men in trench coats. The girls laughed and
flirted, a mixed drink in hand, clothed in indecent outfits that
would make strippers pause. Most of the women wore their hair up,
the better to expose a long, pretty neck.

There was a well-stocked bar and
bartender just for the patrons of this secret room. As was his
custom, Zane headed to the bar and lifted a finger. He didn’t have
to order – he’d been coming to the same place almost every night
for the past three decades and always ordered the same thing. The
bartender passed him a shot of jäger, and went back to serving the
other customers. Zane downed it and glanced around, waiting for
someone to approach. Someone always did.

He was not disappointed.

A blonde sauntered up to the bar, her
long, sleek hair swinging as she leaned over and gave him a smile.
The calculated move exposed her neck and the multiple bites already
lacing her throat. "Hi Zane," she purred. She slid up on the
barstool next to him and crossed her tanned legs under the hot pink
leather miniskirt. A tight white tank-top that outlined her alert
nipples completed the outfit. "Long time no see, baby."

He'd bitten this one before. He didn't
remember her name, though, and her pretty face was a blur in his
memory. She didn't matter. None of them did. And when she leaned
over and placed her hand on his thigh, he gripped her by the hair
and sank his teeth into her tilting neck. Hot, salty blood filled
his mouth and he drank, the curse ebbing for the evening as he did
so. Underneath his grasp, she tensed, a moan of delight escaping
her throat. She quivered under him, her body wracked by an instant
orgasm.

It turned his stomach. As soon as the
bloodlust had ebbed, he shoved her away.

She wasn’t the kind to take no for an
answer, though. Her eyes glazed with lust, her body still trembling
from the orgasm he’d just given her, she reached for him, the
flirty smile glued to her lips. “Kiss me? Make me feel it
again?”