Sold to the Mafire

Playlist Daylight- David Kushner The night we met- Lord Huron Feel something- Bea Miller Try- P!nk Arden Arden smelt the girl that had been tormenting him in his fantasies and his c**k zinged to life, the appendage becoming hard as a rock beneath his black leathers. She felt real. She was close. That couldn’t be possible. Not now. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted by his dreams. He had plenty of time for that later. Besides he had fed and f****d out the dream from out of his head earlier this morning with one of the call girls so he wasn’t supposed to be turned on again. He couldn’t afford to go in front of the fates with a hard on. Plus he needed a clear mind to approach them or they would claw into his mind and damn him to eternal wandering and blood lust. Not when he had a city under his rule. He held the criminal world by the throat and his enemies had been trying to gain in on him. They wanted the level of power he had. And one little slip. One little mess up and they would strike and take everything. Arden thrived on perfection and ruled with an iron fist. That was how he had been able to keep the criminal world under his control since he murdered Paulo, the don who ruled the underground streets of Littlecan, before Arden had torn his heart away from his chest. He wasn’t letting a flimsy little dream girl scatter his thoughts. With that, Arden stilled his mind and entered into the cave where the Fates resided. A bit too archaic, given that it was the 21st century, Arden thought as he trudged his way down. He hooked his hands in the pockets of his pants and tuned his senses to alert him of trouble. The caves were dark and quiet, with the occasional drop of water dripping from the tips of the stalactites hanging from the top of the caves. He could sense that something powerful was around him. The sooner he was done with this, the faster he could get back to the pit. Arden knew when trouble was brimming in his house, and there was something cooking but he had to meet with the fates first. The Fates resided in coffins hidden deep within the caves in Archemouth Valley. For over centuries of development, the valley had remained untouched and some say it was as a result of the Fates residing there that the area remained undeveloped. The locale had a way of misleading normal people into getting lost and never finding it. The whole setting was far different from the real world. The sun dimmed when the Fates willed it to and the moon arose when the Fates were in the mood for a dark night sky. Arden couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the undeveloped area or whatever twisted power the Fates had. As long as they stuck to their territory. He was here for one and one thing only. To find the whereabouts of his father’s remains. He needed to find where the bloke had buried himself and make sure he somehow never revived himself again. Every decade, his father came alive again and decided to come after the empire that Arden had built and expose the truth to the masses of the city. No one knew what they were. The powerful and dark men that ran the inner trappings of Littlecan, they all answered to him. The mafire. And no one was going to know. It was nearing that time of the decade when his father reincarnated himself into someone else and tried to bring destruction into Arden’s perfectly organized life. Coupled with the enemies on the line to take him out and gain control of Littlecan City, which he held under his palms, Arden couldn’t risk his father getting loose again. He had acquired a soul trapper pot, the f*****g thing had almost cost him his soul but if it meant he didn’t have to keep fighting his new unalive versions of his father, he would gladly go through what he went through to get it over and over again. The cave expanded into three different tunnels and Arden had to pause. This was probably how the Fates stopped hunters and curious people from visiting them but Arden was neither of those things. He was something else entirely and his people feared and revered him because of that. “Go back”, a shrill yet calm voice echoed through the caves, halting Arden in his tracks. He raised his head, every sense of his body attuned to the cave and the surroundings for a thousand miles. Arden moved to take a step forward and the voice echoed again. “Make haste. Go back. Time is of the essence”. Arden tried to decipher what was going on. He prided himself with not being caught off guard and hated not having control of the situation as much as not accomplishing his set out goal. Something was amiss with the fates because he moved to proceed but it was like an invisible barrier had stopped his further venturing into the caves. s**t! This was not what he signed up for, today of all days. He needed to meet with the fates and whatever bullshit was stopping him from getting what he came for had to be one heck of an important thing. Speeding out of the cave, Arden found himself in the surrounding of light and trees and the animals of the air once more. The sunlight poured down on his face like it was giving him his blessings but Arden wasn’t fooled. The weather wasn’t like the one in the real world. Time seemed to work on a different mechanism here. Arden ruffled his midnight dark hair before placing his hands in the pockets of his leathers, the weapons he carried with him perfectly hidden beneath his clothing. It was time to analyze his next move. If he couldn’t get the answer to his questions from the Fates, he had to think of another alternative. Arden was deep in thought, his head facing the sun, when he smelt her again. However, this time everything screamed danger. Blood. He smelt her blood. His muscle cords got tight and every nerve ending in his body screamed to go to her, to find her, to take her and drain every life force away from her until she was limp bone in his arms. He staggered resting his head against a rock as he tried to cull the sudden bloodlust that had overtaken him. What the f**k was wrong with him? Why was he acting like an untrained vamp? Who the f**k was this b***h? “Go to her”, the shrill voice drifted out from the caves. This time with urgency in its cadence. Arden wasted no time in winnowing away from the valley to the heart of Littlecan City. This was where everything happened. Businesses boomed, the nightlife thrived, tourism figures blew through the roof. And on the darker side, it was also where drugs got sold, weapons traded hands, and whores got bought for the night. He knew every single thing that happened in Littlecan. Down to the crooked narrows and everyone answered to him and the people who he had put in charge. He ruled the city from the pit and everyone feared him. Normally, killings occurred on an unalarming basis and although he was kept in light of the situation, he never interfered. Littlecan was a big city. How many deaths could he stop? Not that he gave a f**k but this one was the one that called to him. Why? He had no f*****g clue and was determined to get to the bottom of it. He marched his six foot five frame down the alley where the blood called to him, enticing him, dragging him down and down to a place he wouldn’t be able to find his soul or tear away. This was beyond normal. He had never lost control ever since his change and that had been over four hundred years ago. Whatever this was, he needed to get rid of it. He had no weaknesses and wouldn’t be caught dead with one. The scent of the blood grew stronger and Arden’s body reacted to it, his head became lighter with lust and his c**k felt like a hammer trying to punch out of his pants. The scent of lillies drafted up Arden’s nose and he inhaled greedily, a growl leaving his throat. The alley was dark and narrower than he thought and like a rat to a pied piper, Arden kept on going. He spotted the smallish frame leaning against an abandoned makeshift cart with all sorts of garbage items inside. This couldn’t be the woman that had been tormenting him for the past few months now. The Fates were really twisted in their thinking faculty. He scanned her, from her auburn hair to her glass porcelain skin like Snow White. She looked so white and she was dying, Arden could feel her life force dwindling with each staggering breath she took. Her eyes were closed, but the eyes etched around them looked troubled. Like she was reliving the memory of what had just occurred as she fought for her life. What the hell had actually happened here? Arden saw the marks on her glass skin and his anger rose to the surface so swiftly that he dented the wall opposite where the fragile little creature lay. She had been bitten. He smelt the air around her and his gut stilled. She was about to undergo the change. He couldn’t watch her, she would feel indebted to him if he fed her his blood. He couldn’t be tied to her in any way. He would send one of his men to watch over her or not. Who incited the change of a human girl? His men knew not to transition a human. She would probably end up dead in a week with no one to guide her through her change. He couldn’t care less. At least that would be one hassle of his back with him acting like a starved man for her blood and what not. With that, Arden stood back and watched as the woman’s eyes opened, a sharp and wicked ice blue pinning him with resolution like she knew he was about to flee. He winnowed out of the alley to his house as she curled into her body, the pain taking over. The sound of her scream followed Arden into the shadows. And the last thought he had of her was how lovely her eyes were.