Some old vamps treated donors as exactly that. Giorgio, Janvier thought, likely enjoyed having his women paying homage at his feet. Unfortunately for this group, Janvier had never been comfortable with such subservience, found no pleasure in the weak—though he felt nothing against them.
People were who they were, some strong, some not.
So he ran his fingers over the boy’s shoulder, careful to avoid the skin displayed by his muscle shirt. He could’ve rejected the boy—and his friends—harshly, but Janvier didn’t see the point in that; he didn’t kick kittens or puppies, so why would he do the same to these harmless creatures? Though it did concern him how many of the mortals he’d seen in the clubs fell into this personality type.
That might be a fact he’d have to discuss with Dmitri—if the vampires who hooked up with such submissive men and women were caring for them, that was one thing, but if they were abusing them . . . Then again, the Tower didn’t interfere in the affairs of adults unless the rules were broken. And, harmless or not, this group and others like them chose the thrill of the clubs.
As the cattle chose to give freely of their blood.
No one, however, chose to be murdered and thrown away like a piece of trash.
“Felicity?” he said as the male curled his hand around Janvier’s calf, eyes closing. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.”
“I guess.” One of the blondes twisted her lips. “But she didn’t really know how to party.”
“Her last name was Johnson!” the other blonde added with a proud smile. “I just remembered.”
“Felicity Johnson. Merci.”
“Oh, but she doesn’t donate anymore,” Green Jumpsuit said at once, jealousy a stabbing dagger in her eyes.
This one and the first blonde, he thought, might eventually develop claws. If they survived.
“Yeah,” the male added, “ever since she hooked up with her rich boyfriend.”
“We haven’t seen her in months.” The thigh under Janvier’s hand flexed, the girl turning toward him. “I kind of didn’t believe her about the rich boyfriend, but then why would she stop clubbing, if it wasn’t the truth?”
“Hmm.” Janvier didn’t betray his reaction to what might be their first solid lead. “Who was this man?” he drawled. “I may know him.”
The four looked blank. It turned out none of them had ever met the boyfriend and Felicity had been secretive about him to the point that they didn’t have any details on him beyond the fact he was a rich vampire. That was disappointing, but Felicity’s name was more than they’d had when he and Ash had walked into this bar.
Appearing to relax into the armchair, he let the conversation drift, wondering if Ash was planning to let him extricate himself. He could, but it’d feel exactly like abusing small, vulnerable creatures who’d handed him their trust. Deciding to take the time to give these four a lesson in safety, he said, “You’re all beautiful.” His words made them beam, try to get even closer. “It’d be a shame if you were damaged. Not every vampire appreciates that some treasures must be handled with care.”
“We never leave with anyone without checking with each other,” one of the blondes said, coming to kneel in front of him, her chin braced on his knee, her hands on his thigh.
“And,” the other blonde added, “Louis gives us a signal if the vamp is one of the bad ones.”
More intelligent than he’d guessed. “Good.” He set aside his tumbler on a side table. “But you need to remember one other thing.”
“What?” all four said at once.
He had his hands around the throats of the blondes so fast the other two froze. “That my kind,” he whispered, releasing their throats with a gentle brush of his thumb over each slender column, “are not human.”
Chest heaving, one of the blondes stared at him, terror in her eyes. “You moved so fast. I didn’t even see it.”
“I could paralyze you in two heartbeats, have all four of you laid out helpless before me.” He was happy to see the blondes swallow and return to their sofa. “I could violate you if I wished, share you with my friends, then throw you naked and helpless into the street, at the mercy of anyone who wanted to use you. Trust me, there are a number of vampires in the room at this instant capable of doing exactly that.”
Trembling, the girl wearing the jumpsuit stared at him, her pulse stuttering in her neck. “No, I don’t believe you.”
“Have you ever fed Khalil?” At their nods, he said, “He once tore open a woman’s rib cage to feed directly from her heart.” The true horror of it was that the woman had been one of his cattle who’d volunteered to pleasure her master in whatever way he pleased. “She was conscious at the time. I hear she screamed and screamed and screamed.”
“Oh, God.” Tears wet the eyes of the blondes, and the girl in the green jumpsuit leaned subtly away.
“So,” he said, “you must be very, very careful. Oui?”
They nodded immediately.
“There is bloodlust in the air,” he continued, able to see Khalil feeding from a willing woman ten feet away, the vampire having shoved his hand down her blouse to viciously squeeze her breast. “Warn your friends that even previously trustworthy vampires may become a risk.”
Dmitri had to be briefed on this; the longer Janvier sat here, the more his instincts told him the blood was boiling beneath the surface. It wasn’t yet at critical, but it would be within days if not handled with brutal decisiveness.