CHAPTER NINE

The following night, an ominous crimson pulsed with a demonic heartbeat. The heavy bass thumped up through the soles of my boots, a primal rhythm that vibrated in my very bones. The air hung heavy with the mixed scents of sweat, perfume, and something deeper, something metallic and intoxicating - the tang of blood. It was a scent I knew intimately, a scent that both repulsed and fascinated me.

I sat at the onyx bar, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat of my skin. Dimitri, lean and predatory, perched on my left, swirling the crimson liquid in his glass. Seraphine, a vision in scarlet silk, reclined languidly on my right, her eyes scanning the dance floor like a hawk searching for prey. We were a trinity of darkness, apex predators in a world of lambs.

"Another Merlot, Kaelen?" Dimitri drawled, his voice a silken whisper that barely registered above the music.

I scoffed, the sound sharp and dismissive. "Merlot? You insult me, Dimitri. I require something... stronger tonight." Merlot was for the pretenders, the dilettantes who dabbled in the dark arts. I needed the raw, unfiltered rush of tainted souls. That's what mortals came here for, wasn't it? To lose themselves in the darkness?

Crimson was built on sin. It was a place where the veil between worlds thinned, where the damned stumbled unknowingly into our waiting arms. But tonight, even the heady atmosphere of my club felt...flat. Eleanor's scent, a delicate floral against the heavy musk of my club, lingered at the edge of my senses, a nagging reminder of my weakness.

"Something... stronger, you say?" Seraphine purred, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Perhaps you're finally growing weary of the regulars. Always the same flavor, isn't it?"

She was right, of course. The regulars offered little of substance. Their sins were predictable, their souls... bland. What I craved was a profound darkness, a soul so twisted and corrupted that it offered a genuine challenge to my palate.

And then I smelled it. A putrid, suffocating stench that cut through the cacophony of scents like a knife. It emanated from the dance floor, a swirling vortex of lust and malice that made my fangs ache in anticipation.

Rape. The scent of it clung to a man like a second skin, a stain that permeated his very being. He was a brute, thick-necked and leering, his eyes trailing over the female patrons with grotesque hunger. He thought he was charming, a predator on the prowl, but to me, he was simply... dinner.

"Seraphine," I murmured, my voice low and dangerous. "A new offering has arrived. I believe he's ripe for the picking."

Her eyes followed my gaze, widening slightly as she took in the man's presence. A slow smile spread across her lips, a predatory curve that promised pain and pleasure in equal measure.

"My pleasure, Kaelen," she whispered, rising to her feet with a lithe grace that belied her true nature. She moved through the crowd like a viper, her scarlet dress flashing in the strobe lights, a beacon luring him closer to his doom.

Dimitri watched her go, his eyes narrowed with amusement. "Always so eager, our Seraphine. She does enjoy the hunt."

"Indeed, she is one who loves to play with her food." I replied, my focus solely on Seraphine and her target. I watched as she approached the man, her body language a masterpiece of seduction. She leaned in, whispering something in his ear, her hand trailing lightly down his arm. He swallowed hard, his eyes glazed with lust. He was hooked.

The dance floor swallowed them whole, their bodies disappearing into the writhing mass of humanity. I knew where she was taking him. The Playroom.

But then I sensed her. Eleanor. Her scent, a delicate floral against the heavy musk of Crimson, grew stronger by the second. I couldn't explain her presence, nor did I have the luxury to dwell on it. I needed to focus on the task at hand.

I followed Dimitri and Seraphine, the air thick with anticipation. The brute reeked of fear now, a delicious tang mingling with the original stench of his depravity. I could practically taste the corruption seeping from him, a potent vintage that would be a welcome change from the predictable palates of our usual clientele.

Eleanor's faint floral scent, a phantom lingering at the edge of my awareness, threatened to disrupt my focus. Damn it, I needed to purge her from my thoughts.

We approached the VIP section, the velvet rope parting for us like the Red Sea. I reached for the ornate, wood-paneled wall, my fingers brushing against the barely perceptible seam that marked the entrance to our private world. And then it hit me.

A wave of lilies and sunshine, so pure, so bright, that it slammed into me with the force of a physical blow. It obliterated the stench of the brute, the metallic tang of blood, the heavy musk of Crimson itself. I froze, my hand suspended in mid-air, every instinct screaming at me to stop. It was Eleanor. Unmistakably, undeniably Eleanor.

Dimitri, ever observant, noticed my sudden immobility. His brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing with predatory curiosity. "Kaelen? Is something wrong?"

My jaw clenched. "Tell Seraphine to wait for me in the playroom downstairs. Tell her to... entertain our guest, but no feeding. Not yet."

He arched an eyebrow, a silent question hanging in the air. I didn't elaborate, couldn't risk wasting another second. Dimitri simply nodded. "As you wish." He slipped through the hidden doorway, the panel gliding silently shut behind him.

The scent was getting stronger now, pulling me back towards the main floor like an irresistible tide. Leaving the brute to Seraphine felt...wrong. Wasteful, even. His soul was a particularly ripe specimen. But the promise of Eleanor, the tantalizing mystery of her reappearance... it was a siren's call I couldn't ignore.

And so, I followed her scent, my heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. I had no idea what awaited me, but I knew one thing for certain - I needed to see her again.