Sinister Seductions (Book 1 The Flower of Bottesford Series)

Chapter 1: The Welcome Home

I stood outside on the wet sidewalk, basked in the neon glow of the sign above which bared the name of my first destination: SINISTER SEDUCTIONS.

I was surprised by the line up to get into the place. Both supernaturals and humans alike were clamouring behind the red velvet barricade trying to push their way into the nightclub, only to be stopped by a formidable looking set of twin bouncers. The twins were both blonde haired brown eyed beauties cut like Adonis himself. They also happened to be, if I wasn’t mistaken, Were-creatures of some sort. Looking at the pair of them, I realised why the club was so incredibly popular. If this is what the help looked like, then the main attractions must be spectacular to behold.

I pulled out my phone and texted Mara that I was outside. She responded in seconds that she was coming to get me. I bit my lip, suddenly nervous and unsure of what I was going to say. She was going to put me through the wringer, of that I was sure. Just as long as she didn’t tell anyone else that I was here, I could handle it.

I waited in the damp cold, tightening my black leather jacket around me and tapping my foot impatiently, kicking a few rocks here and there. I never liked waiting. I always had more places to be. I was sure that Mara was making me wait on purpose out of spite.

Out of the corner of my eye I caught a strange dark flicker, like a shadow zipping past. I trained my eyes on the spot where I had seen it, suddenly on edge, but it didn’t reappear. I caught the shape out of the corner of my eye again, dread filling me instantly. There was only one creature I could think of that could do that…

A hand fell on my shoulder and I reacted immediately, twisting it up and around so that I had the persons arm wrenched behind their back in a split second.

“Whoa there lady, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the gruff voice spilled out at me. One of the twin blonde bouncers.

“I’m not scared,” I retorted, letting him go, “I’m wondering why you were touching me.”

He chuckled and grinned at the same time, “Well I called your name but you didn’t answer,” He began massaging his elbow to release some of the strain I had caused it. “Damn girl, you have some strength to you. Can’t say I was expecting that. Not that I am complaining, I like a strong woman.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

I c****d an eyebrow, hiding my amusement. “And I’d like to know why you were touching me,” I replied, effectively brushing off his words.

A faux wounded look crossed his face as he let out an exaggerated sigh of defeat, “I was told to bring you inside. She is waiting for you by the bar.” He made a gesture for me to follow.

He brought me around the line and to the side of the building where a hidden side door was located. He took out a swipe card and swiped the little veiled box to the right side of the door. Opening it for me he said, “Go straight down the hall through the set of double doors, when you hit the dance floor go left to go around. The bar is on the other side. Take care not to make eye contact with anyone on your way, you never know who you are going to run into in there.”

“Thanks,” I held out my hand, “I’m Ria by the way.”

“I know, Mara told me,” He said with a grin, shaking my hand “My name is Ethan, my other half you saw over there is Owen.” I smiled at that.

“I take it you are close then?”

He laughed. "We kind of have to be! We have the same face after all!” I decided I liked Ethan and his happy go lucky nature. I don’t get to see such carefree attitudes often. Especially not from a Were.

“But you should be going, don’t want to keep her waiting. She is something else when she is mad. If you need anything, you let me know.”

And with that he sauntered away, seemingly pleased with himself.

I went inside and let the door shut behind me. I noticed that there was no handle on the inside. I was not going to be exiting through this door on my way out without a card.

Shrugging off the strange sense of foreboding that had plagued me since the flash on the street, I walked deeper down the hallway following Ethan’s instructions.

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Standing at the only bar that matched Ethan’s description, I was waiting again. I had been waiting for almost twenty minutes. Now I was positive she was doing it on purpose.

I was standing next to a mass of bodies battling for booze, attempting to stay as far away as possible while still remain in sight of the bar. The club was circular in style, with the lowered dance floor in the centre. The walls were lined with semicircular red leather booths with shiny black tables. There were black high tables with bar stools were following the railing in place to prevent drunks from falling into the dance floor. It was too dark to tell the theme of the place, but the entire bar reminded me of the stereotypical b**m s*x dungeon. But I guess that was the point of it. Blood and s*x, it was in the name of the place.

People were everywhere: drinking, dancing, doing drugs. Some people were having s*x in the booths, while other tables looked on. Other people somehow managed to sit and hold a conversation with each other over the booming music.

In the centre of the dance floor below me there we three stripper poles, each manned by a person as scantily clad as the next. I could tell they were supernaturals by the way they moved, but it was too dark to determine what kind they were. They spun and twirled while they writhed against the poles, keeping the s****l energy and tension in the room at its peak. Goading and seducing people in to continuing whatever activities their hearts desired.

No one paid the other any mind. This was a place where people could do whatever they pleased without fear of repercussions and it struck me why the place was so popular. It managed to stand outside of and away from the tension in the real world.

Sinister Seductions indeed.

I shifted back and forth on my feet, trying to ignore the obnoxiously loud club music and strobing coloured lights flashing across the dark of the place. I found myself continually attempting to take in deep breaths to control the rising headache in my temples, only to crinkle my nose at the foul smell of stale beer, vomit, and body odour.

I was not in a good mood to say the least.

It was difficult to keep my rising temper under control, as I once again prevented another plastered i***t from coping a feel, grudgingly sending him on his way to the other side of the bar with all his limbs intact.

‘Five more minutes, and I am going up there and introducing myself. Repercussions be damned,’ I thought. I didn’t have to wait that long though, as if she sensed my anger and frustration the figure I had been waiting for glided over to me.

She was taller than me by a couple of inches, her body shape waifish and leggy, like a catwalk super model. Long, straight blonde hair flicked her waist, and almost floated around her as she walked. Her striking hazel eyes were surrounded by naturally dark lashes and brows, contrasting against the paleness of her skin and the blonde of her hair. Her high cheekbones, button like nose, and almond shaped eyes were set in a lovely heart shaped face. Her normally full lips were drawn in a line, which I couldn’t decide was caused by nervousness, anger, or both. Probably both.

She was wearing a perfectly pressed white pant suit, though no shirt seemed to be present under the white jacket. It was pale skin all the way to the belly button. An interesting fashion choice she would never had made before I left. The outfit was accessorised with simple gold hoop earrings, a gold collar necklace, a pair large gold wrist cuffs, and red pointed toed stiletto shoes.

And like nearly everyone else that worked in this establishment, Mara was a vampire.

The knowledge was like a stab in the heart. Because what very few people actually knew was that the vampire Lieutenant Mara was actually in fact, Azmaranda Belvoir, my younger sister.

I pushed myself away from the bar to stand in front of her, and she turned on her heel with a gesture to me to follow. I found myself trailing her behind the bar to a door covered by deep purple curtain that I hadn’t noticed before. When she let the door shut behind us it was instantly quieter.

“Mara,” I started uncertainly, “It’s good to see you. You look well.”

“And you look like s**t,” her usually melodic voice was harsh and strained. I flinched at the acid in her tone, unsure how to respond, but knowing I deserved it. I erred on the side of caution and decided to say nothing, watching her closely. I knew she was taking in my appearance and sizing me up. She didn’t look impressed with what she saw.

I always had a strange look about me, I can admit that. Neither beautiful nor ugly, my appearance was more striking. I was short, about 5’3”, curvaceous but also lean and muscular, clothed in a black long sleeve V-neck shirt, black jeans, and knee high black boots. The straps of my leather satchel, which contained the majority of my worldly possessions, crossed my chest. My wavy hair was a strange bronze like colour somewhere between brown and blonde, and pulled back in to a French braid. I had an oval shaped face with the family’s high cheekbones and full bow lips. On anyone else it would look lovely, but my naturally pale skin caused these features to be even more apparent, border lining on harsh looking. My most beloved and well utilised feature were my eyes.

My eyes were a strange greyish blue colour with iris’ that were rimmed in a dark navy, surrounded by long pale brown eyelashes. These eyes were my greatest weapon and I used them as such; I once silenced an entire platoon of bar fighting soldiers with a disapproving stare; and Ari will never let me forget the time I ended an entire Council meeting with a single glower.

The most recent acquirement to my appearance though was the long thing scar on the right side of my face, from my temple to my jawline. A gift from a troublesome vampire who thought he could get the jump on me. He was wrong.

I saw her eyes linger on the scar, and something akin to sorrow flitted across her features only to disappear shortly after. She looked like she wanted to say something but thought better of it.

“Come on,” she huffed while striding down the hall, “he is waiting for you.”

I smiled ruefully as I followed her, my heart heavy with the suffering I had caused. I knew it was only going to get worse as the night went on.