Phantasmagoria - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
Phantasmagoria.
Twelve Tales of Dark Erotica.
Morgan Hawke.
Alchemical Ink: The Hungry Kitten.
Carnal Punishment.
Angel rattled the keys as she unlocked the huge wooden front doors of the Hungry Kitten Gentleman's Club, then propped the doors wide open. It was barely seven in the evening on an ordinary Friday night. In less than a minute they would officially be open for business, and the doors would not close until dawn pinked the sky.
Taking a quick look around, Angel noticed that the parking lot was empty except for the cars belonging to the bar staff and the ladies that danced for a living. A full moon floated just above the trees in the last blue of the darkening sky.
Angel smiled to herself. Madam Athena, owner of the Hungry Kitten Club, said a full moon meant a full house, and full pockets. Tonight being a Friday would be especially profitable. Exhausted executives and blue-collar workers would cram into the club tonight with freshly cashed paychecks burning holes in their pockets.
According to Craig, the head bouncer, the full moon also brought out the crazy and the short-tempered. It was going to be a busy night for everyone.
"Hey, Angel," said a deep voice.
Angel turned to look over her shoulder. The ma.s.sive head-bouncer was standing directly behind her. His broad and completely shaven head nearly brushed the top of the doorway. The muscles of his shoulders and arms stretched the confines of his formal tuxedo as he stood with his hands behind his back.
Angel smiled up at him. "Oh, hi, Craig."
He nodded his head. "How's tricks?" Pinkies raised, he straightened the lapels of his tuxedo. His casual movements threatened to burst the seams of the shoulders and arms of the tux.
Angel shook her head, her blond ponytail bobbing. "No tricks yet, but there is a full moon tonight, and it's Friday."
"A full moon..." He rolled his eyes. "Great, the crazy people will be out tonight, itching for a fight." His ice-gray eyes creased with humor. "I guess I'll have to polish my bra.s.s knuckles."
"Right." Angel tilted her head to one side and raised a brow. "Like you don't look forward to cracking a few skulls?"
Craig raised his nearly non-existent brows. "Hey, crackin' a few skulls is good for the soul." Craig stuck out his bottom lip, then grinned broadly and crunched his ma.s.sive knuckles.
"In the mean time, it might be a good idea to warn the other bouncers," Angel said as she led the way back into the club. "That is, if you intend to share a few skulls that need crackin'."
"I've been known to share the occasional skull," he said as he followed her deeper into the club. Craig smiled appreciatively as he admired the view of Angel's form from the rear. Her stride was long and confident as she strode into the bar before him. The completely open back of her club waitress tuxedo uniform showed off the elegant curve to her spine. The t-bar nicely framed the firm roundness of her fishnet-covered b.u.t.t-cheeks under the abbreviated tails.
"By the way, Angel, have I told you how good you look in fishnet?"
Angel glanced over her shoulder at him and flashed a dimpled smile. "Not tonight, you haven't."
Craig followed Angel through a row of the tiny round tables littering the floor in front of the main stage. As she reached to pick up a stray drink tray, Craig noted that the sleeveless uniform displayed an impressive amount of arm muscle. A full round bosom pressed the tiny b.u.t.tons of the s.h.i.+rtwaist top of her uniform.
He nodded to himself. In just the few months that Angel had worked here, she had filled out nicely. He remembered her being little more than a half-starved waif when she had started working here.
"I still don't get it, Angel. Hot lookin' as you are; how come you're not on the stage, makin' money as a dancer?"
Angel's brows drew together. "Not interested, and I like being a waitress." She dropped the tray off by the bar and took a quick peek in one of the smoked mirrors. Checking her crimson lipstick, she flipped her long blond ponytail over her shoulder, straightening her wristband cuffs and red c.u.mmerbund. Her eyes caught the reflection of Craig's serious gaze. He was still watching her.
"Any special instructions for me, Craig?"
He shook his head slowly. "Same as always. Be careful, and don't go outside without one of the bouncers with you." Craig's reflection smiled as he wandered off.
Angel turned to greet the first patrons of the evening.
"Hey, Obsidian," Craig said as he stopped by the open door of the ladies' dressing room. The magnificent Brazilian beauty and Exotic Dancer Extraordinaire at the Hungry Kitten Club turned to look at him. Her dark amber eyes glittered with strong gold highlights. Her creamy golden skin glowed under the lights as she swept a silver-backed brush through her knee-length inky curls with a languid hand.
Craig swallowed hard. His eyes locked in fascination on the long blue-black waves as they curled around the brush, crackling with electricity.
"h.e.l.lo, Craig."
Craig heard a p.r.o.nounced, almost feline, purr to her thick-as-honey voice.
Her lips curved into a bow as she rose from her chair in a long sensuous glide. "And how is my one true love this evening?"
Craig's eyes devoured her magnificent form wrapped in an inky black satin robe as she stepped out of the dressing room, her elegant stiletto heels clicking on the stairs. In two long strides, she reached him. With a smile, she wrapped Craig in a bone-cracking hug.
Craig grunted under the strength of her hug. "Easy girl, don't break your one true love in half!"
"I bet you say that to all the girls," she whispered in his ear.
The short hairs rose on Craig's neck and his d.i.c.k came to sudden and complete attention. "I'm afraid you're the only girl I know capable of snapping me in two, babe." He smiled even as the chill of danger raced down his spine. He could feel nervous sweat trickling down his spine under his s.h.i.+rt even as his c.o.c.k pressed painfully against the seam of his pants.
"Is that why you love me?" she whispered, tracing her crimson nails down the front of his s.h.i.+rt. "Because I am capable of snapping you in two?"
"h.e.l.l, yeah!" His smile trembled as he held her in his ma.s.sive arms. "You know I love dangerous women, and you're the most dangerous I know," he said softly and with complete conviction "By the way, there's a full moon tonight."
"Oh, I know." Obsidian gave him a smile that showed the tips of her slightly overlong incisors. She ran a pointed tongue across her full bottom lip.
"Is, um, everything under control?" He stared at the long teeth that pressed into her scarlet lips.
"I'll be fine, and so will your guests," she said softly. Obsidian pulled up the sleeve of her satin dressing gown and showed him the delicate and beautiful tattoo of a snarling kitten. "Ever since I got my little kitty here, I no longer lose my, um-" she chuckled warmly, "-control over my more aggressive appet.i.tes."
"That's my girl." Craig hugged her hard, breathing deep of her clean yet pure female scent, then he let her go. "Time to finish getting beautiful, babe."
"One day, Craig," Obsidian said with a smile as she stepped away, "we really will have to dance under the moonlight."
"I look forward to it, kitty-cat," Craig said, swiping the sweat from his bare skull. "I just hope I'm up to it." He chuckled nervously as he stepped back.
Obsidian blew him a kiss, stepped into her dressing room and closed the door. "You will be," she said to the empty room.
It was the tail end of a long but profitable night. Angel smiled as she strode across the bar, fingering the bills folded around her garter from the healthy tips she'd gathered. She'd made enough to cover the rent, and maybe buy that new outfit she'd seen in the mall yesterday.
"Hey, babe," said a familiar voice.
Angel stopped in shock, her blood running cold. Slowly, she turned around. Lounging in one of the velvet-padded chairs was the tall, lanky form of her ex-boyfriend. Her heart lurched, then beat hard and fast. He had thrown her out of their apartment months ago, after replacing her with some other girl he had picked up on a street corner.
Angel stared at her ex-boyfriend. "Hey, Ricky." She forced herself to put on a neutral smile. "What are you doing here?"
He smiled. "You're lookin' good."
As usual, she noted, he ignored her question. Angel felt her smile twist into a grimace.'You look like s.h.i.+t, ' she almost said out loud. He looked wasted, his skin pasty and unhealthy. The drugs he used liberally were taking their toll. His hair was still short and bleached, and his face still craggy in a way many girls thought handsome. Taking a good look at him, she wondered how she had missed the cruelty in his black eyes. Angel raised a brow. "How's Chrissy?"
"Chrissy's gone," he shrugged. "Nice place you've got here."
She shrugged. "It's a job." She turned her back on him and stalked away.
"Hey, I wanna beer!" he shouted after her.
"Coming up!" she shouted back as she fled.I'd like to see Obsidian handle him, she thought, grinning. She'd eat him alive.
As though summoned, Obsidian drifted from behind the stage. She moved to stand by Angel. Her black sequined backless gown caught the lights and blazed with blue highlights. Her sharp golden eyes were focused on the lounging Ricky.
"So what's with the little p.r.i.c.k?" Obsidian asked Angel.
"He's somebody I'm trying to forget," Angel said through clenched teeth.
"Really? I was by his table earlier. He said that he was your boyfriend." She tucked an errant dark curl behind her ear and bent near one of the smoked mirrors to redo her lipstick. Her long, blue-black mane slid across her muscular form to brush her knees.
"He's my ex." Angel signaled the bartender for a beer. "He's a real a.s.shole."
"So I've noticed," Obsidian said with a raised brow. "He tried to stiff me on the dance tip."
Angel looked at the dancer in alarm. "Look I'm sorry if Ricky-"
Obsidian put up her hands. "No, no...Don't worry, it's not your fault, you didn't ask him to come here."
She smiled flas.h.i.+ng sharp teeth. "He's nothing I can't deal with." Obsidian's eyes drifted to the lanky young man. "Speaking of dealing with, do you want me to...Um, how shall I put this?" Obsidian's voice seemed to take on a feral rumble. "Shall I take care of your little problem for you?"
Angel looked over at the elegant beauty. Obsidian's brows were raised over eyes glimmered gold, like a cat. Angel bit her lip. "He's not worth it." "My dear, sweet Angel." The dancer placed a gloved hand on Angel's arm. "Problems like that don't go away by themselves. You have to make them go away, or they keep coming back to haunt you." Obsidian nibbled her bottom lip with sharp teeth. "Let me help. I can, you know."
Angel shook her head. "He's my problem."
Obsidian squeezed Angel's arm gently. "Sweetheart, while you are much recovered, I don't think you
are up to dealing with one such as he." The dancer frowned. "This one is evil. True evil. Let me do this for you." Angel blinked in surprised. "Ricky is an a.s.shole, but evil?" Obsidian pulled down her elbow-length evening glove. "My tattoo is glowing," she said softly. "Your tattoo is glowing?" Angel looked over in surprise. "Oh, yes." The dancer turned so that Angel could see her bared arm. Obsidian had a clawed snarling black kitten tattooed on her forearm and it was glowing a pale blue. "Wow, it's lit up like a neon sign." Superimposed over top of the tattoo was an odd-looking green letter that seemed to be floating over the kitten. Angel frowned.Where have I seen that symbol before? "Yes," said Obsidian softly. "I believe that your tattoo came from the same artist that crafted mine." "Oh, I didn't know that," Angel said with some surprise. "Alchemical Ink?" "Alchemical Ink," Obsidian confirmed. "The artist is not only handsome, he's a powerful Brujha, a sorcerer. You are not the only one that he has a.s.sisted with his powerful magic." "Really? He fixed your soul too, with a tattoo?" "Yes, after a fas.h.i.+on." Obsidian smiled. "I think the sorcerer and Madam Athena have some sort of arrangement. As you came to us months ago with the ink still fresh from his needles, the sorcerer has been known to send people that he has repaired with his magic here to the Hungry Kitten. Most, if not all, of the employees working here have ink from him. Even Madam Athena has a tattoo."
"And the tattoos glow?" Angel's tattoo was on the small of her back. She would have to check when she changed her clothes before going home. She had felt a soft warmth on her lower back, but had not thought anything of it.
"Oh, yes. Whenever real evil walks through the door." Obsidian looked over at Ricky. "Luckily, only someone wearing one of his tattoos can see the glow. I hadn't realized that my mark was luminous until Craig stopped me after my last stage performance and pointed it out to me."
"So what's with the letter floating on top of your kitten?" Angel asked curiously.
"What letter? I just see a blue outline on my kitty."
"I must be seeing things." Angel rubbed her eyes but the letter was definitely there. Very clearly she could make out a 'Y' with crossbars through the tail outlined in green, floating over the blue of the kitten. The letter looked oddly familiar. She was convinced that she had not only seen it, she could almost grasp the meaning.
Angel's eyes widened.I do know that letter! That'sthe alchemy symbol for 'combine'. That symbol was used to signify a volatile substance that had been tempered by adding something to keep it from exploding. The same way that nitroglycerine was added to clay, making dynamite, which wouldn't explode without a charge. She looked at the beautiful dancer. What would Obsidian possibly need combined or rather, controlled?
Obsidian looked in Ricky's direction. "As our tattoos tell us, your Ricky is a force of evil. Let me deal with him."
Angel swallowed. "Obsidian, he may really be evil. Right after I left him, but before I started working here, I found out that a couple of the girls he saw before me, had disappeared. I don't want anything to happen to you."
Obsidian's eyes narrowed to slits. "Do not worry about me." Obsidian's smile broadened to show overlong, if delicate, incisors. "No one's going to get hurt but him." Obsidian's smoky laugh carried across the club as she sashayed over to Ricky's table.
"Don't worry about Obsidian," said Craig.
Angel turned to see the bouncer standing beside her. She hadn't heard him walk up behind her. "But what if Ricky tries to hurt her?"
"Hurt who? Obsidian?" Craig barked out a short laugh. "She can take on anybody in here." Craig patted Angel's shoulder rea.s.suringly.
Angel smiled. "Even you?"
"Even me." Craig's gray eyes were deadly serious. "Believe me, your ex is about to bite off far more than he can chew."
Angel rolled her eyes. "Does everybody know he's my ex?"
"h.e.l.l, Angel, you know there's no secrets in this club." He turned, winking at her. "Now why don't you tell me how your college cla.s.ses are going?"
The sky was beginning to pink with imminent dawn as Obsidian drove her red Corvette from the employee section of the parking lot. Her keen eyes picked out the tall lanky guy standing under the trees at the edge of the parking lot. She smiled to herself. The tires squealed as she pulled the Corvette to a sudden stop beside him. She parked, then opened the driver-side door.
"Hey, Ricky, need a ride?" Restlessly she flexed her long muscular leg, letting her short leather skirt ride up her golden thigh. She watched as his eyes were drawn to the long line of leg revealed.
"I'm waiting for someone." Ricky thrust his hands deep in his jeans' pockets. He leaned back to stare at the club's door. His eyes narrowed.
"Would that someone be Angel?" Obsidian asked and smiled as his eyes dropped to hers with momentary confusion.
"Angel? You mean Melody?"
"We call her Angel." She took a moment to trail her fingers through the length of black curls that pooled in her lap. She watched as Ricky's eyes hungrily followed the path of her scarlet-tipped fingers. "She asked me to get you, after a fas.h.i.+on." Deliberately, she trailed her fingers down her red satin blouse, molding the fabric against her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s.