Slave to Club Noctus

Slave to Club Noctus

Sarah Parker · Completed · 204.0k Words

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Introduction

“So blood is less like a meal for you than it is a drug trip,” I note, and he rests his hand on my thigh, making my heart clench.

“No, blood is sustenance,” he corrects, “some bland and some flavorful, but your blood,” He leans in closer, finger tracing up the side of my leg, right along the femoral artery. “I was taken to heaven, my soul lit aflame. Pure ecstasy. I wish I could show you.” His eyes scorch my skin, suffusing my cheeks with heat. His fingers are right there between my legs, and I know without a doubt that such ecstasy is well within my reach, no biting required. He can see that desire darkening my gaze, and his smile steadily broadens. “You know, there are ways of enhancing one’s flavor. I normally tease it out for hours before I drink.” He rests his lips against my ear. “Sanguis always tastes best when a woman is in full climax.”


Leah just wanted to make some friends and blow off some steam. She did not expect her night of clubbing to get her kidnapped by a coven of hot, young vampires addicted to her blood. Now she’s a slave, a blood servant in a mansion of beautiful tormentors fighting each other to lay permanent claim to her. She doesn’t need to pick just one. She could have them all if she chose, but the urge to escape and rescue her imprisoned best friend, the man she’s been in love with since grade school, that noble need remains. Even if he could never fully satisfy her needs and fulfill her darkest fantasies the way the others can… It’s too deadly a game, leading them all on, and one of these vampires is bound to overindulge and suck her dry. Though the truth is, she’d enjoy every second of that experience, right up until death.

Chapter 1

Ever sucked on a paper-cut, and thought to yourself: There is a nice amount of flavor in that blood, the perfect mix of salty and tang. Okay, I sound like a complete psycho, I know, but a hell of a lot of strange things have been happening recently to cement the fact that it is not just me; there is something seriously weird about my blood. It’s got an effect on people, okay?

Specifically guys.

My best friend, Gracen, he faints every time he sees me hurt. I know that isn’t an unheard of condition, but the really weird thing is – he’s a paramedic. Yeah. He works in the city, same as I do, and he sees major accidents and bleeds all the time. And he’s just like fine with that, unfazed. It is only, specifically, my blood that knocks him right out with a single whiff of it. He doesn’t even have to turn around. He can just tell somehow the instant I’ve been cut, and he’ll tense right up and pass right out, cracked his head on my coffee table the last time, and we had to lift him over to the hospital in his own ambulance.

His partner, Brett, mocked him mercilessly for that, but he also could not help commenting that I smelled really nice that day. I wasn’t trying out a new perfume. I hadn’t even shampooed that morning. My extra nice smell was just the scent of my paper-cut I guess, but having the doctors run tests on it, I appear to be just a normal Type A, so maybe it’s all in my head. I mean sure, I went through a bit of a goth phase in high school, but it’s not like I find other people’s blood appealing. I became a nurse solely because… Well, like half the girls in my class went into nursing, and I figured I’d find it fulfilling or something. Anyway, I assure you, I do not have a blood fetish. I find my patient’s injuries and surgical sutures just as disgusting as their rashes, I swear.

Now everyone at the hospital thinks I’m a weirdo and possibly a junkie for getting my blood tox-screened in search of special compounds. The staff likes to gossip, so I really should have expected the lab techs to dish. Even worse than the gossip and judging glances is the fact that they keep cutting my hours, and giving me the much dreaded night shifts, but Gracen always sends me cute texts to cheer me up, even when he’s busy with his own work, out there on the road, saving lives.

Maybe I should just abandon this internship and join the ambulance crew instead.

Then again, that might be the death of our friendship, working right alongside him all day. Gracen likes his space, and his alone time, and all his many secrets. He won’t tell me what he’s up to sometimes or why he’s never introduced me to his family.

“They’re all dead.” He told me that years ago, and I thought he must be joking. He wasn’t.

Then I saw him get a text message from ‘Dad’ one night, so turns out he was outright lying to me.

I should be angry about that. I should be angry with him for a number of reasons. I’m certainly frustrated, because I’ve known him since the sixth grade, and yet he somehow remains a complete mystery. I don’t even know if he’s had a real relationship with anyone. I’ve never seen him with any other girls, but every time I bring up the subject of who he might like or the cute girls working around him, he just changes the subject and moves on.

It’s not like I don’t talk about my preferences, and how hard it is to find a quality guy, but despite all those constant hints, he never makes a move. We spend all this time together. We joke and we text, and he walks me home after my shifts, but then he just leaves.

I think sometimes he just isn’t at all attracted to me. Last month for Valentines, we were watching this romance movie together (his idea, I swear), curled up on his couch, with me leaned into his shoulder… I decided to just take the leap and kiss him. He even kissed me back for like a good, full minute.

Then he straight up ran to the bathroom, locking himself in.

I thought at first that maybe he just had too much to drink or something and like really had to go, but nope. I waited there awkwardly, alone in his living room for a whole twenty minutes, before I knocked on the door, and what does he say? “Just… stomach cramps. Look, you should really go. I’ll see you tomorrow. K?”

I took a bus home, humiliated and upset, and he would not even talk about what happened in the days that followed. He keeps showing up at my work though, and walking me home, and shooting me those long, soulful glances, eyes literally stroking my body…

It is hell of confusing.

Then I get a Tinder date with…. an admitted loser, but a hot one, and Gracen, of all people, dares comment on my questionable choice in men, saying someone like that is “unworthy of me”.

“So I should date a guy like you then?” I responded that day, and he blushed so bright red I thought he’d catch fire, making up some excuse and rushing out the door.

Maybe he’s under the delusion that I would never entertain the thought of an actual, public relationship with him. It is true that Gracen is not what you’d call a… conventionally attractive man.

Growing up, he was the dorky kid with the glasses who would always get bullied for being too quiet and odd, and I guess he hasn’t much changed. He still wears those bottle-neck lenses, and it is hard to focus on anything of his face behind them. He is pretty well built, and more than tall enough, but kind of awkward in his movements with zero fashion sense or confidence.

I don’t know why I find all of that so overwhelmingly cute. I don’t know why I fixate on that close lipped grin he always gives me, wishing I could see a full toothed actual smile from him, just once. I want to rip off those glasses, stare deep into his eyes and sleep with him already. Maybe that would be some horrible mistake that would turn out awkward and ruin our friendship, but there’s no way to know for sure without taking the risk and diving right in.

Any time I try to initiate something though, he either misses his cue or changes the subject. And if he isn’t ever going to even kiss me again, then he has no right to tell me who I should or should not be dating.

I used to go clubbing a lot in uni, and Gracen would always insist on tagging along, despite the fact that night clubs are not at all his thing. The boy hates crowds, specifically sweaty, drunken crowds, with blasting music, but I love that pounding beat. I love staring up into the strobing lights, feeling warm hands on my hips, and drinking and dancing till I can’t stand straight.

I would still be spending my nights off dancing to be honest, if I had a group of girlfriends I could take out, in place of the awkward introvert who just stands in the corner all night.

I’d have more fun just going by myself, but every time I have tried to go solo clubbing, Gracen has inevitably found out and rushed right over to join me. He insists that it is not at all safe for a ‘young woman like me’ to be out there alone at 3 in the morning. Can’t really argue with that, but if he’s tagging along, I at least want him to loosen up a little and act like my actual date. I’d take his hand whenever a good song came on and try to get him to dance with me, but he always refused. He wouldn’t even drink. He’d just sink back in his corner, invisible to every woman that passes, as I swayed my hips and tried to ignore his weary stare, and all his constant glances toward the exit.

To hell with it, I need a better best friend, and that’s why I’m so glad I met Kate. She’s the new student intern here in the ER, but just like me, all the other, older women don’t seem to like her very much. She’s too eager, too oblivious, and too in need of re-instruction. I’ve been her main mentor, since her actual supervisor has zero patience for Kate’s squeamishness and tendency to panic and start crying when things get too intense.

I have a feeling this girl is not going to last long in nursing, but I really do not want her to quit. Sure, she needs a lot of help to do her job, but it’s refreshing, having someone look up to me for once. I haven’t had an actual female friend since middle school, and I need someone other than Gracen in my life. Kate may be a sorority girl, but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a lot in common. After all, she likes to blow off steam in the exact same way I used to.

“Wait, you’ve never been to Club Noctus?!” she demanded of me today. “It’s the best club in town! Great vibe, great DJ.”

“Yeah, I think I’ve heard of it, but Gracen says it’s in a really sketchy part of town, right? Has a lot of drugs floating around…”

“Relax, I’m not a hopeless party girl. I haven’t taken any hard stuff since college.”

“You are currently in college,” I remind her, and she winks.

“Only part-time, and I am a career and safety first kind of woman. So I am taking you out tonight, no objections.”

I couldn’t help but smile at the idea. It felt great to ditch the nursing scrubs and dig that slinky black dress out of the back of my closet, going all out with the glittery eyeshadow and press on nails. I haven’t looked this good in what feels like an eternity. Gracen’s version of a night off is sweat pants wearing and Netflix watching; cozy, safe, and all around frustrating, if he’s just going to lock himself in the bathroom after getting me all emotional and horny.

I consider snapping a quick selfie and texting it over to him, but then he’d just start asking questions… “And he is not your boyfriend, so get over him already,” I mutter. I can enjoy myself tonight without having to worry about his feelings.

Kate picks me up in an Uber packed tight with two other girls I’ve never seen before tonight. “Shit,” the first of them sighs, eyeing me up and down. “I hate it when everyone looks better than me.”

“Chill out, Ter,” Kate laughs off, giving us all quick introductions before breaking out a flask of vodka so we can pregame a little before getting to the club.

I take the passenger seat beside our driver, since there’s no more room in the back.

I try to smile and stay involved in the conversation, but it’s all inside jokes and references I really do not get. Neither Teresa nor Rachel are nursing students, and nursing is pretty much all Kate and I talk about…

I really thought it would just be us two tonight, but I’m already feeling like the odd one out.

It’s not any different in the line outside the club, and once we’re inside, I walk away without them even noticing and head straight to the bar to get a drink.

No luck flagging down the completely swarmed bartender. Then my phone starts dinging.

Gracen just got off work, and he’s offering to bring me Thai, my favorite midnight snack.

I tell him I’m actually not at home tonight, and then the question comes.

Oh. Ok. Where r u?

I hesitate only a moment before I shoot him a picture of adorably made-up Leah, lit up from behind by the shiny Neon sign over the bar reading Club Noctus.

My phone instantly starts ringing, and I give a little grin as I answer. “Hey--”

“Why the hell are you clubbing? And why there, of all places? I thought I told you--”

“Hey, Gracen, chill out,” I order, smile vanished. “I’m not out here alone. I’m with Kate and a couple of her friends.” Not that I can see any trace of them in this crowd… “Anyway, I know clubbing is not your thing, so… have a good night, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow okay?”

“Leah, wait--”

I hang up on him. He instantly rings again, so I turn off my phone. I shouldn’t have picked up in the first place. I shouldn’t be sending him pictures, or thinking of him at all. Nothing is ever going to happen between us, and he has no right to keep acting like this, all clingy and possessive.

I let the pounding rhythm of the music wash over me, lifting my eyes to the shimmering lights on the roof. This is kind of a shitty evening so far. I won’t lie. Still, I never expected it to end in so much blood.

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