After the Mark

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: The Taste of Control

We slowly walked amidst the crowd, bodies moving in time to the pounding music. I carefully scanned the dance floor, taking in the way people moved—their clothing, the curve of their bodies, the energy radiating off them. Every detail mattered; every movement was a potential target.

We arrived at the bar, and Juliet ordered a couple of drinks. We sat with our backs to the bar, facing the thrumming crowd. The lights pulsed across the room, strobes cutting through the haze of smoke and glitter.

“Which one has caught your eye?” Juliet whispered in my ear, her warm breath brushing my skin.

I followed her gaze and spotted a girl dancing in the center of the floor. She was stunning—long auburn hair cascading down her back, a tight sequined dress clinging to her curves, moving in perfect rhythm with her friends. The girls circled each other, laughing, confident, unbothered by anyone else.

“Her,” I said, pointing.

“Bad idea,” Juliet murmured, a warning in her tone.

“Why?” I asked.

“She’s surrounded by friends. She’s the most attractive girl here. That means everyone’s watching. You can’t risk it.”

“I’m not going to kill her,” I said, shrugging.

Juliet’s eyes narrowed slightly. “How well did that work out last time? You don’t want the police sniffing around your business by daybreak.”

I looked at her, considering her caution. “So… what type of person should I go for?”

“The exact opposite,” she replied. “Someone alone. Someone unnoticed. Someone people avoid.”

I followed her gaze and saw who she meant: a heavyset girl dancing by herself near the edge of the floor, arms flailing wildly, almost stumbling as if lost in some private world. Her movements were erratic—she smelled of cheap alcohol and desperation—but she was completely alone. People gave her space, keeping a careful distance.

“Yes,” Juliet said, reading my expression. “She’s perfect. Minimal attention. Maximum control for you.”

I downed the last shot on the bar and whispered, “Wish me luck.” Then I stepped off the bar stool and wove through the crowd. The music thumped in my chest, synchronizing with the rapid pulse of my own heightened senses.

I reached her, inhaled, and said over the music, “Hey!”

She turned, eyes wide, and wrapped her arms around my neck. “You’re so hot!” she shouted, her words slurred but clear. I could smell the sharp tang of alcohol on her breath, but I ignored it. This hunt might be too easy.

We danced, bodies pressed together, until I caught Juliet’s subtle nod from the bar. The signal was clear: it was time.

“Do you want to go somewhere private?” I leaned close to her ear and asked.

“Huh?” she shouted, over the music.

I repeated it, and her lips curled into a giggle. “Yeah, sure.”

I took her hand, and we navigated through the crowd. The first bathroom we tried—male—was too crowded. The female bathroom, same issue. I saw her disappointed expression but didn’t falter. Back on the main floor, she laughed drunkenly, teasing me.

“I thought you were taking me to the VIP upstairs. Didn’t know you were just a broke hot boy.”

I felt the surge of irritation but barely had time to respond before a voice cut through the tension.

“Hello,” Juliet said, materializing beside us like she’d stepped from the shadows. “Would you like your usual spot in the VVIP room?”

The fat girl blinked at her, confused. “Who… who are you?”

“I’m the manager of the club,” Juliet said simply. Then, to me: “Do you and your date want to head upstairs?” She handed me a card: VVIP Pass.

The girl grabbed my arm, dragging me upstairs. I glanced at Juliet; she winked, and I returned the smile.

The moment we approached the VVIP entrance, eyes turned. Men, women, everyone inside stared as we passed the velvet ropes. The bouncer inspected the card and waved us in. The room was opulent: gold-trimmed furniture, crystal chandeliers reflecting faint purple light, private booths lining the walls. And for a moment, it was just us.

I sat back as she poured herself a glass of champagne, moving gracefully, almost hypnotically. She danced alone in front of me, teasing, swaying to the rhythm.

After a while, she slid onto my lap, facing me, lips pressing against mine. “Gosh, you’re so hot,” she whispered between kisses. “Do you want to—?”

“No,” I chuckled. “No f*****g way.”

Before she could react, I grabbed her hair, tilting her head to expose her neck. I sank my fangs in with precision, feeling the first rush of her warm, intoxicating blood. Her body tensed, a muffled gasp caught in her throat, but I controlled myself—no overfeeding, no killing. The taste was magnificent: sweet, coppery, and heady. Every nerve in my body screamed with the thrill, but I stayed focused, pulling back once I was satisfied.

I pushed her gently aside and stood, the rush of power and exhilaration coursing through me. I felt untouchable.

The door opened behind me. Juliet stepped in.

“Hey,” I said, smiling, blood faintly on my lips.

She scanned the room, then nodded approvingly. “You did well. Minimal damage, and you didn’t kill her this time.”

“Why did you come in? I thought you’d let me handle it alone,” I asked.

“I needed to make sure you knew what to do once it was over,” she replied. "Of course" I said being so sure of myself "A vampire’s kiss can erase memories. Whatever we say, the victim will remember only that. The encounter will be rewritten in their mind.”

She nodded. “Right. You remembered… good.”

She smiled, stepping back. “Go on, finish up.”

I turned toward the girl but paused, looking at Juliet. “Why don’t you take her first? Her blood… tastes really good.”

Reluctantly, Juliet approached. She sank her fangs with the same precision I had, tasting, withdrawing, cleaning her mouth with a practiced elegance.

“Her blood is filled with alcohol and drugs — literally all kinds,” Juliet said casually. “That’s why it tastes so good.”

I swallowed. “Will it affect me?”

She smirked, lowering her mouth back to the girl’s neck. “Definitely. Soon you’ll be as high as a kite. But relax… it’s okay.”

I stood there, stunned, watching as she fed. When she finally pulled away, she exhaled heavily.

“I had to match your level.”

She walked over to the couch, picked up a bottle of champagne, and took a slow sip. “You better finish up.”

I lifted the girl’s head gently and kissed her. I expected something different — something supernatural. But it felt ordinary. Just lips against lips.

After a few seconds, she gasped and jerked awake.

“What happened? What happened?” Panic filled her eyes.

“Calm down,” I said smoothly. “We were dancing downstairs. You drank too much and passed out. I brought you up here so you’d be okay. You’re fine now. You can head back.”

Her expression softened, almost glazed. Without another question, she stood and slowly walked toward the stairs.

I glanced at her neck.

The bite marks were already fading. Within seconds, they vanished completely.

And so did she.

“Wow,” I muttered, sitting beside Juliet. “Just like magic.”

That’s when I felt it.

The drugs.

At first, it was subtle — a warmth spreading through my veins. Then it intensified. The room felt brighter. The music downstairs sounded deeper, richer. Every sensation sharpened and stretched.

My body felt light… yet powerful.

I looked at Juliet.

The club lights filtered across her face, casting shifting shadows over her features. She looked unreal — glowing.

“Wow,” I whispered.

She turned toward me. “What?”

“You look beautiful.”

She smiled softly and placed her hand on my cheek before kissing me. This kiss wasn’t rushed. It lingered. Her fingers gripped my shirt and pulled it over my head. I helped her with hers, our movements deliberate.

Skin met skin.

I lowered myself over her, kissing her neck slowly, then her wrists. I reminded myself not to bite.

“Careful,” she murmured near my ear. “You’re not feeding.”

I exhaled slowly and shifted my focus — kissing down her body, taking my time. She responded to every touch, her breathing deepening, her hands tracing my back.

The drugs heightened everything.

Every brush of her fingertips felt electric. Every breath against my skin sent heat through me. But beneath the intensity was something stronger — control.

I didn’t lose myself.

I matched her rhythm. Her pace.

When she pulled me closer, it wasn’t force — it was invitation.

Her voice trembled as she said my name, and her body tightened against mine. I felt the tension building between us, rising steadily like a storm.

“Daniel…” she breathed.

The moment crested, overwhelming but contained. I held her as it passed through both of us, heat breaking like a wave.

Then stillness.

The music below continued, muffled and distant.

We lay there, breathing in sync, bodies cooling but still charged. The haze of intoxication remained, but it was softer now — manageable.

Juliet rested her head on my chest, listening to my heartbeat.

“You didn’t lose control,” she said quietly.

I stared at the ceiling, feeling something new.

Strength.

“No,” I replied. “I didn’t.”

And for the first time since becoming a vampire, I felt powerful — without feeling dangerous.