The Vixen Arises

Chapter 1

Her body moved with fluid grace despite the long session, her tan flesh holding a bright sheen from the vigorous activities of the evening. Few women could've kept it up like she had, brought the uppity young lord to two such climactic peaks in one night. Yet she did it with gusto and a smile.

The slap of her flesh striking his, of her heavy breasts impacting upon her chest as she rode the young noble resounded through the room of the brothel. It was only outdone by the moans and groans of Loren Faro beneath her, as he voiced his struggles to remain in her luscious body while she pounded his cock, milking it expertly.

"Dam-dammit!" he cursed, "C-cumming!" But she knew that already; she could feel it in the twitch of his shaft inside her. She'd felt it not long ago after all. She'd rode him through one orgasm and hadn't stopped as she crested this next one.

"C'mon baby, give it to me," she purred, letting her nails scrape along his chest as she raised the other hand up to push back her hair and give him such a lascivious grin.

He was done. His eyes rolled back and he arched his neck. He bucked wildly and his dick shot off inside her with violent force. To think, he hadn't even been in the mood for sex when he'd showed up to see her.

She'd taken that as a challenge.

---

Dark as the night itself, the tall vampire Jaral made his way through the narrow alleyway. Not on the ground, but positioned two stories up. With such intense coordination, he used his arms and legs to keep himself suspended as he watched below.

Town guards.

They were meeting with some of Zarach's men - no, his men now - and it was going according to plan. He'd managed to reign in much of Zarach's flunkies in a short time, but one could never be sure, he reminded himself.

From beneath his hood he watched, and listened as coin changed hand. Then the contraband.

It was all going according to plan in the dark recesses of the city when...

Arrows were fired. Arrows? He found that odd in the city. Why not crossbow bolts? His own curiosity drowned out the frustration of watching his own men fall dead but... none of the guards he noted. They were running. Had they started a moment too soon for it to be coincidence?

He put aside his wondering. He had work to do.

The spry vampire moved nimbly, kicking from one wall to the next as he gained on the cloaked assailants. He'd make sure short work of them; it was hardly sport at all. Yet as he descended, one of them looked up.

No, he pointed his bow up as well. He had sensed Jaral's approach... somehow. And aimed true. The tip pierced his torso. The first wound he'd suffered from a mortal in so very long.

It sent him crashing down into the alleyway in a twirling mess.

---

As they lay panting in the aftermath, his seed drooling out of her puffy folds, she bent down, kissed his neck and nibbled his earlobe. "It's just how it is," Anjasa cooed.

Loren was in a much better mood after her handling of him. The nude young noble still breathed heavily as he held her. "I just don't like knowing some... some thugs hold my birthright in their hands, and could take it away from me at any moment. I mean... was it really necessary to hire them to retrieve the will?"

She'd gone over this with him several times already. The fake story she and Jaral had invented to keep the noble in place. "Sweetie," she said with honeyed words, "you were mortally wounded in the crypt. Your... crazed cousin was going to kill you. It was all I could do to get you out of there and then... I just couldn't bear to know he was not only threatening your inheritance but your life as well," she said with convincing concern, biting her lower lip.

The noble gazed at her, and as he saw her expression, he looked sorry for having brought it up. "I just wish they had taken out that bastard in the process. So I didn't have to worry about them bringing him back to replace me if I didn't do what these mafia thugs want."

"Well, we just have to be patient," she whispered into his ear, letting her swollen lips drag across his flesh. "In time, when things are calmer, we'll get what you're due." Her dark hair tickled across his cheek as she pressed her mouth to his. "For now, let's just enjoy this."

With a deep intake of breath, he gave a soft smile, his hand stroking over the back of her hair. "Sorry for sulking," he said genuinely. "It's not fair to you after all you've done for me. I mean..." he looked around the lavish room; Anjasa was already turning her new brothel into a much finer establishment. "Buying you this place with my new inheritance isn't even close to enough. I owe you everything. I mean... everything! My life even."

He could be such a boy, but Anjasa always managed to get him back on track. With time. And exertion.

Her lips twisted into an affectionate smile, hiding the predatory glint to her eyes. "Hush, dear," she said as she stroked her fingers down along his jaw. He was such a handsome man. That was what attracted her to him in the first place, after all. "You'll pay me back in your own due time."

She could see the hint of excitement in his eyes, even after having milked him of it twice already. There was no denying her ability to draw out arousal in a man.

With a sigh he rose up onto an elbow however, "I have to get back though. I have an important meeting tomorrow..." he said rather dramatically. He'd taken to his new title as Lord Faro with great relish, she'd noticed. "If I'm to see to what these thugs wish, I'm afraid I can't miss out on my duties."

She pouted, even though she was proud of his vigor. Her red lips pressed to his, stealing his breath before she finally rolled away from him. She was shameless in her nudity, the way her large breasts parted against her ribs, and she drooled his cum between her meaty thighs.

The elf was beautiful, there was no use denying it. With her tanned skin and vibrant green eyes, she looked half her age. Far younger, even, to a human. "When will I see you again?"

Loren swung his legs over the side of the bed, and though he continued to watch her, he proceeded to dress. "As soon as I can," he said wistfully, and she had little reason to doubt that with the still smoldering look of lust in his eyes.

"I guess it's for the best, you not being here distracting me." A teasing grin formed on her face. "If I'm to whip this place into shape, I can't spend all the time being whipped by you."

He managed to both grin and blush as he pulled on his shirt and began to button it up. Whenever she was done with that young man, he seemed infinitely more confident.

"Part of me wishes you could. But then, if I wanted that I probably shouldn't have bought you this place," he said, looking around and appreciating the room. "Wouldn't be right though, not after all you did." Lord Loren Faro, despite his rise, he remained one part cocky, one part humble. The latter probably had something to do with her not only saving his life but his being in debt to the mob.

She shifted to the edge of the bed, leaning back so as to show off her breasts as she watched him dress. "Just... be careful, Faro. I can't save you all the time." Her grin offset her subtle reminder of his debt to her, and she only looked sincerely concerned.

---

They bid farewell, but her night was not yet complete. Brothels ran late, even by the standards of brash young lords. She headed down to the main room, the large hall bustling with activity. Patrons were watching the show on stage, listening to the music, drinking and being a bit rowdy.

It was her place. Long ago, Anjasa had worked as a stripper. And a whore. And whatever else she desired.

The ability to express herself sexually and get paid for it was the biggest thrill in the world, and she still had that sparkle of excitement in her gaze as she took it all in.

By the bar a handsome young elf with long, flaxen hair caught her eyes. He stood out with his blue-grey eyes and pale blonde hair that went past his shoulders. A delicious looking treat, not that men were much in demand at her club. Though the fact he seemed eager to have her attention was noteworthy in itself.

Before anything more could even be thought of it, one of the girls came up to Anjasa's side. "Madam, Bliss went and stole one of my client's out from under my nose!" The young human in her low-cut red dress looked utterly flabbergasted. She was distraught and a bit angry, which was odd for her. "He agreed to go up to one of the rooms with me, and when I went to get him his drink she... she went and stole him!" she said with watery eyes.

Anjasa's face fell as she tore her eyes away and looked up at the taller woman. "Sweetheart, always send a waitress for the drink. Now, how much money did this guy have, hm?"

The young woman was so flustered, "He was my best client, madam. I mean... he's one of the nicest ones and he's real generous too. And... and I would've sent for a waitress but the bartender never showed up tonight and so she's been workin' the bar!" she pleaded pathetically.

"What did Bliss say to tear him away from you? If you were his favourite, why'd he leave, hm?" She wasn't entirely unsympathetic to the sweet girl's plight, but she also didn't believe in beating around the bush.

"I- I," she stammered, trying to get her words out, "I dunno!" The human was taller than her, but that wasn't uncommon. The humans of Normevor often were quite towering, but Amie was more middling height. "I wasn't there, I just came back with the drink and... she was takin' him up the steps! I even paid for his drink out of my own coin!" she said as the tears began to roll.

Anjasa took in a deep breath and even though she wore the veneer of frustration, this little spat was reminding her of her own days. The stress and the drama. She thrived on it, whether she was the angry one that lost a client, or the gleeful one that stole it.

"Here's what do you, sweetie. You go up there, and you tell him that he wants both of you. He likes you, he's generous, and he'll do it. And Bliss will still get hers. Alright?"

The young woman looked on her with some confusion, "Y'think?" She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and didn't wait for a response before she nodded. "O-okay," she said then began to turn before something seemed to hit her. "Oh! There were a couple of gents lookin' to have your ear," she said. "They've been hangin' on a while hopin' to speak with you."

"Thanks, sugar. Go on and have some fun. Play nice with Bliss and he'll be generous to both of you, alright?" The human woman had barely turned before Anjasa rolled her emerald eyes and grinned at the display. The rush of emotion, the desperation, the pure thrill of cash changing hands always made her long for something else.

Though quickly she reminded herself that now she has something better. Something more permanent, and far more profitable.

Her gaze went through the club, looking for the so called gents.

There was a veritable sea of men, though few that Anjasa would describe as gentlemen. At the bar the young elven man downed a drink then tugged his vest into place. He wore a mix of human and elvish clothing. The pants and shirt were obviously crude human make, but the boots and vest bore the sign of fine elven filigree, and gave the outfit an edge of class that was both foreign in a land of humans and appealing.

He began to make his way to her, licking his lips and looking a bit anxious amidst the crowd.

"Evening, madam," he said with a bow.

She smiled up at him, leaning against the bar. Her black dress hugged her body, and a glittering emerald fell just above her ample cleavage. "Evening yourself."

As he rose from his bow her gemstone caught his eye - or more likely the bountiful valley of breast flesh that lay about it - and he was set off balance on what was undoubtedly a well prepared statement. "I, ah... I was led to believe you are the owner of this fine establishment, madam?" He asked, and up close she could get a real appreciation for him.

Elvish children matured physically as fast as humans, of course, but since they lived so very much longer they were thought of as young for so much longer as well. This man? Was very young indeed by elven standards. His skin pristine, smooth, glowing golden in the lights of the evening's festivities.

"Well, it would otherwise be a very silly thing to lie about," she teased. Oh, this was what she loved. Setting men off balance. Making them lust for her. Need her.

Her body felt warm beneath the scandalously revealing dress, and she swore she could smell his boyish scent in the air. "Why do you ask?"

Rising up, he looked to her with hopeful longing in his eyes, an expression she was intimately familiar with. "I am in need of a job, madam, and I heard tell you were one of the few Sylvarin women in the whole of Normevor that might help me. We are blood kin and all," he remarked, that familiar phrase so oft used by their kind away from the cities and glades of home.

Her lips quirked. "A man like you at the end of his rope? You must have a terrible attitude."

With a bit of an awkward laugh he shook his head, the thick golden hair swaying. "No madam, just a bout of bad luck, I assure you. I ventured off on a journey of discovery, and my employer, well... my employer's caravan went... bankrupt I'm afraid." He gave a crooked half-smile at the tale of misfortune.

"I see." She tapped her fingers along the bar, drawing out his moment of shame and anxiety as she looked over his body. "Well. What are you not willing to do?"

Running a hand back over his hair, the confused look on his face betrayed just how inexperienced the young man was for one of her kind. There was no way he should have been wandering across the lands on his own. No self-respecting elvish parents would've allowed it.

Yet there he was, in her bordello. "If you think it's best, I can't imagine it'd be too much for me to handle, right? We're kin and all."

Boy he was naive.

She laughed softly, shaking her head. "If you can't imagine it, then you're not going to be able to handle it when it happens." She licked over her lips and stood upright, folding her arms beneath her breasts. "Do you know what alcohol is?"

He actually hesitated, "Huh?" Before she could react his eyes widened, "Oh yeah! Of course I do! What do you take me for?" He laughed and put his hands on his hips, standing straighter and smiling. "I handled drinks for the caravan along our stops," he said with confidence, his trim, lean figure on display.

"Well isn't that convenient," she mused as she looked towards the overrun waitress tending the bar. "I could use a bartender, if you're up for it. Consider the rest of the night your interview." He was a handsome one, she mused. If he could serve drinks he could survive quite comfortably on tips. Well, maybe. He didn't have cleavage, after all.

With a glance back to the bar he then nodded. "Alright, I'm on it, madam!" He said with a bright smile, "And if you need anything else, I'm your man," he said with a darling crook of his lips and a click of his heels as he bowed to her again.

She swept some of her dark hair away from her face as she motioned towards the waitress. "Hurry up. Last call's in a little over an hour." Luckily a good portion of the patrons were drunk enough not to notice a slip up, and she smiled sweetly at the man before swiftly moving past him, dismissively.

The waitress, already appearing quite flustered, bustled off from behind the bar, relieved to be free of that duty at least.

Anjasa, however, was focused on her business. She knew there was another man waiting to see her, though before he presented himself, one of the club's highest rollers entered her field of vision. The silver-haired noble was a new member of the club's clientele whom she had lured into her newly refurbished web.

Dashing, was the word for him. He wore a pristine suit that one almost never saw outside the wealthiest part of the city, and checked a time piece in his pocket a bit anxiously.

He was the kind of person she loved to come around, so long as he was happy. He looked a little less than, and her heels clicked on the floor as she made her way over to him.

Even though she was the madam, the owner of the brothel, there was no reason for her to look anything but her best. The tight, black dress she wore was laced in back to nip in her waist and lift her breasts towards his vision as she smiled up at him affectionately.

"Waiting for me?" she teased.

Whereas he tensed up at first touch, the moment his steely eyes met hers he seemed to melt. "Ahhh, yes," he said with the beginnings of a smile. "I was hoping to get a few moments of your time, madam. In private, if I could," he said with a brief glance to the side at the bustling crowd of rowdy men and lascivious women.

"For you, it would be a treat," she agreed, her hand lacing into his arm. "I hope the evening has been finding you well." She was a madam, but she could also be cultured when she needed to be. Her family, so long ago, had been wealthy and even though she'd turned her back on them, their lessons never faded from her.

The formal looking lord led the way towards the stairs that led to the private rooms. "Ah, not quite. Though now that I have you with me, I can finally rest assured that it shall improve, madam. I cannot thank you enough for sparing me a bit of your time to address this aging man's issues." He gave a soft, weathered smile down to her.

She laughed politely as he led her into an unused room he shut the door behind them. "Please. I have to admit, you've piqued my curiosity, and that's not always a very easy thing to do. Has one of my girls displeased you?"

Disentangled, he let his head sink a bit as he fidgeted with the extravagant ring on his finger. "Ah, no, madam. It's nothing quite like that. I am most pleased to see that the women you have here are exceptional by the standards of such places. And I've yet to whet myself upon all that have taken my fancy."

Her smile broadened at his compliment. It was a personal thing, as she held very high standards for herself and those she employed. Yet that left the bigger question.

"So why don't you tell me what's on your mind?" She motioned her hand towards the lavish, navy couch, inviting him to sit.

Anxiously, the silver-haired noble rubbed at his beard then swept a hand back over his hair. She'd not seen the wealthy lord looking so perturbed before. "Ah, well... this is hard to explain you see, madam... and I hope you will forgive me for the... the..." he stammered, looking flustered. "My apologies, sincerely," he said, looking up with wide, glossy eyes.

The look of fright that crossed his face was too late for her, however, as a strong pair of arms wrapped around her. Her mouth covered over, her arms pinned as she was pressed to a large, hard body.

"Go," hissed the man behind her holding her in place with such an expert grip. "And see to it that we are not disturbed. Or elssse," the strange voice of the man behind her speaking in such an inhuman manner, "you know what awaits your daughter. Get gone!"

The lord nearly fell over in his effort to get out of the room, but Anjasa could see the look of regret on the lord's face. "Sorry," he murmured before disappearing out of the room

Fear. It was familiar, almost too familiar. Anjasa had been in so much peril, so many situations that were so similar to this, and it numbed her. Yet she didn't struggle.

Even through that fear she'd picked up on the fact that this man... this inhuman man... didn't want her dead. He wanted to talk. After all, there were so many better ways to kill her; so much more subtle that didn't include frightening a very powerful client.

So then, what was it? Blackmail? Threats?

Probably.

She remained still, her breath shallow and rapid yet it was such second nature to her that she was still able to think clearly.

He'd been quiet since the lord had left. The only noise he made was the soft, gentle hiss of his breathing, yet she couldn't place anything specifically about him. He held her in such a way that she couldn't twist or get sight of him even if she tried, which she dared not.

At last he spoke, and she could feel the faintest flicker of something against her ear as he did. "I don't trust that he'll keep to his word entirely. He seems rather... enamored with this place... and you..." he mused. "He might be willing to endanger his own daughter for a sspur of the moment whim to try and save you. So let us make the most of this time together, yesss?"

He inhaled again and said, "Nod if you agree to be a good girl for maior," a strange word for ‘me' used only in the exotic southern lands, "and converse only with those pretty lips of yours."

He obviously didn't know much about her.

She was always a good girl.

Her head nodded up and down. She hired many guards, undercover and on a frequent rotation so as not to be suspicious, but this was a private matter. Personal.

That strong grip slipped away from her so smoothly and fluidly, it was almost as if he had never been there, but for the tingle of his passing.

Anjasa was able to turn around and see her captor. He wasn't what she expected.

Tall and striking, he wore little. Reddish-brown leather pants, knee-high travel boots to match, and just a harness over his coppery chest to compliment the cape that draped over one shoulder, obscuring little of his buff physique. He was quite a looker, though his face drew the main attention.

Long blonde, shiny hair paired with slitted, feline eyes and a large scar across one cheek. "Congratulations on your new acquisition, madam," he said with a cheeky smile and a suave sort of charm despite his hissing voice.

Her tongue dabbed along her lower lip as she took him in, her eyes narrowed at him. "Thank you, though there's no need for such theatrics and frightening my customers." She didn't really know what to make of him. Was he looking for a cut? Did he think she'd be gentler to deal with than the dead and rotting lord?

With one arm bent beneath his cloak, he tapped a gloved finger upon his hip bone. "I beg to differ, madam," he said as he brushed some hair back. "There is always a need for theatrics when it comes to exceptionally beautiful ladies. And men. And there is one of each here, so the need was high you understand."

Her dark lashes fluttered instinctively at his compliments as her hand went to her hip. He was right - on both counts - and his impression was made.

"So if you're afraid of our private time being interrupted, what was so important you needed to accost me in my own club right before closing?"

"I'm a curious man," he said, unashamed in his barely-dressed state as he moved about the room in such a fluid manner. She'd never seen anyone move so that wasn't a dancer, and never seen a man pull off quite that flexible sort of gait. "I was just wondering how such a ravishing elven maiden comes to so dreary a city, buys a chunk of it, and brightens it up so effectively. The true story. Not the one suitable for public ears," he said with a touch to his lobe and a wink.

The gesture showed enough of his ear from beneath his hair that she saw a bit of a pointed tip, though it was nothing quite like an elvish ear. In fact, nothing about him added up to any race she was familiar with.

How was he so... distracting? It made her struggle to hide her interest, and she forced a smile to her lips. "How cliché would it be if I said that if I told you, you wouldn't be leaving this room able to tell another soul?"

Still, her emerald eyes kept trailing over his body. It was hard not to, and she was getting frustrated by just how strange he appeared. She couldn't get a grasp on him. He didn't seem like a hired thug. He definitely had too much power for that. Too much confidence, but it wasn't the cocky ego of brutes. It was calm. Controlled.

Everything he did was controlled.

He reminded her a bit of herself. Flexible. Adaptable.

Yet he surely couldn't disappear so easily as she. Not with his mixed parentage. Where could he go to blend in? How could he blend into Normevor of all places? Such a dull human town, mired in the typical humanity of the north.

His coppery skinned torso twisted at an almost impossible angle, his chiseled abs flexed delightfully as he smiled at her. No, there was nothing about him that would blend in easily. Not his skin tone, his dress, his face or eyes, and certainly not that big scar, the only imperfection on his otherwise immaculate form.

"Between you and me, madam. I swear it," he mimed sewing his lips shut and crooked a grin at her. "On my honour. And lest you think I have none, I swear it on something more precious," he slid his other hand from his hip and cupped the - sizable - package, nestled in ruddy-brown leather.

She hated how broadly she smiled, but she couldn't contain it. She even licked her lips before she managed to reign her lust in, and even then, it was only just. "I'm sure it won't surprise you to be told that it was gifted to me by a gentleman friend. I'm afraid there's not much more to tell other than the fact that I'm quite popular with some very generous people."

"Ohh, I do believe it," he said in an intriguingly accented voice, his feline eyes trailing down over her in completely unmasked desire. "I suppose you mean that young pup you spent the evening with, yesss?" he hissed out in question, a brow raised as he picked up a bottle from the minibar, uncapped it and sniffed the liquor within.

How long had he been following her? She masked her surprise and gave a brief nod. "He's rather lovely as a companion, and quite kind to me. I'm sure you know why."

She hoped he didn't. If he did, he could have either heard their conversation or knew far more about her than just Loren, her noble lover.

Recapping the drink he nodded to her and twisted back towards her, that same curiously majestic movement. She'd almost call it feline, like his eyes, but it was too fluid for a cat even. "He's not bad," he said in a confessional tone. "I'd do him myself if I thought he'd be a tenth as accommodating as he was for you. But then... I imagine your charms dig far deeper than mine even, yess?"

"Given some luck." And that's what it had been, at least in part. Luck he'd been in the club that night. Luck that he needed her.

Luck that she was the very person he needed.

"I'm sorry, what is your name?"

"Luscius," he said without hesitation, the name rolling off his tongue in an almost sensual manner. He gave a smooth bow to her with that same liquid grace. "And what a pleasure it is to make your acquaintance, madam. Time with us grows short - for now - so I trust you won't begrudge me jumping along in my queries. I'm a curious beast by nature," he said with a wry grin, running a hand over his lower stomach as he eyed her.

His name was delicious and she gave a slight nod as she stepped closer to him. "So tell me what you want from me." How was he still such an enigma? Was she getting old, rusty in her ability to read people?

"Answers," he retorted, quickly attaching an addendum. "Honest answers. You see," he remarked, holding up a finger as he spoke, though with how close she had gotten she could smell his curious musk on the air. Exotic, yet in a totally different manner than Jaral's.

"I am an admirer of yours. Truthfully," he said in a perfectly believable manner, never dropping his outward appreciation of her. "And I do not wish to see any harm come to you. Harm that would inevitably follow consorting with the wrong sorts. You understand?"

"And are you the wrong sort, Luscius?" Her pulse quickened again as she watched him, and her body was twisted with that same, gut wrenching arousal that so often coincided with her rising fear.

His luscious lips twisted into a broad, uneven smile. "Undoubtedly," he said with amusement. "In this case, however, I try to be the other sort. For you see, there is trouble coming. For you if you choose the wrong sorts, madam. I sincerely hope you can avoid issues. But would you promise me one little favour? A simple thing for an admirer."

Anjasa's nose crinkled as she stared at him. "What type of trouble? What favour?"

"The sort that gets people killed in the streets. Many before it's all through. I shall not be one of them, and you too should not. Shall not, if you heed my advice." He smiled at her softly, "As for what you could do for me: please, tell nobody of me. Or at least what we spoke of. My warning is for you alone. Do not get involved with the seedy underbelly of this city. Leave it, no matter the pain it might cause. For it is not worth the risk."

With a serene smile, he let his eyes flicker down over her again, "Can you do that for an admirer, madam? If no then... I would settle for some token. Something to touch and remember you by in my private moments." The little twist at the corner of his lips was nearly imperceptible. Yet she saw it.

She might have had trouble reading his greater purpose, but she would never miss something like that. "If you'd seen everything with my companion then you would know I never wear more than I need to."

Anjasa closed the gap between them, her emerald eyes upon him. "And unfortunately I've never been one to avoid the underbelly of any city. It's a bad habit."

The frown that crossed his face seemed so sincere. "That saddens me, madam. I was truly hoping that you might make it through this safely, and I might woo you when things settle down. Alas..." he sighed, then reached into a satchel on his belt with that same fluid motion.

"Here," he said, offering her a curious little trinket. It was gold, shaped like a strange monstrous creature with wings, the body of a viper, the head of a lion, and the legs of a goat. Though despite the awful creature's looks, it was beautifully made. "Something to remember me by. A token of one admirer's affections."

"I doubt I'll forget you, Luscius. In fact, I imagine if I were to fall to whatever ominous thing is coming to strike me down that my last thoughts will be of how I should have heeded you. Can you give me a hint of what I can expect?"

He reached out, slipped the cool gold trinket into her hand as he spoke to her softly. "Just know that if you insist on consorting with the vagabonds that owned this club before - and still secretly do now - that your life is in mortal danger. As is everyone who works for you. Please be wary," he said.

There was barely a gap between them, and he lingered there. Poised nearly ready to try and kiss her, she could feel it like she'd felt hundreds of men do in the past. Her fingers instinctively moved over the cold metal in her hand until one of her fingers pricked on the sharp metal fangs of the lion's mouth.

"Ouch," she looked down, saw the bead of crimson blood on her fingertip.

"Ah, my apologies, madam," said the dashing stranger as he lifted her hand up. "I should have warned you of the beast's dangerous inclinations." His slitted eyes studied the pin-prick and her blood for a moment in what seemed like more than idle interest, then he bent down, kissed and licked the wound. Suckled it even, for just a moment before pulling back, leaving it free of blood and - oddly - no longer bleeding. "You're clean," he said with some relief.

Her dark brow arched curiously. "What, pray tell, am I clean of? Because I know many people who would argue that."

With a curious half-smile, he looked about to say something. Abruptly his eyes flicked to the door, the look of alarm making her glance back towards it herself and...

Nothing.

It was only the briefest of moments, and she looked back to him and -

He was gone.

His grip had slipped away so lightly that it almost felt like he was still touching her, despite his absence. The faint touch only now fading away.

She stood alone in the room with only a lingering scent of his musk.

As she pondered the curious visit, she began to hear the thud of footsteps approach quickly. Only for the door to be burst open and two of the club's guards to brandish clubs as they looked ready for a fight.

"Really, guys?" Anjasa sighed as she walked towards the brutes. "Did he finally tell you something was wrong?"

They looked about confused, then back to her. "Is he gone?" one questioned.

The other added, "I was just standin' down, guardin' the entrance. He musta gone upstairs! Let's go!" he grabbed the other one's shoulder, ready to tromp up the stairs and terrorize the rest of the brothel in search of the coppery Luscius.

"Stop this madness. You don't want to cost those girl's their end of night tips." Anjasa pushed the thoughts of the meeting aside, the worries that he'd embedded in her saved for after closing. "Just go make sure they get paid."

The club was already shutting down for the night, and she saw at the bar that the waitress and her new temporary-hire were shooing people away from the bar and preparing for close. "That's all folks!" stated the cheerful young elf, performing a deft maneuver with a bottle after pouring the last drink. "If you care for more, you'll have to squeeze it out of this lucky fellow," he said with a wink to the man.

Yet even with his talent, she was newly suspicious of everyone. Jaral hadn't warned her about any outstanding debts, anyone who might try to harm her. Did Zarach have secrets that neither of them had uncovered? She shook her head free of the thoughts once more, but they were troubling her as she placed the gold piece into her purse.

"I didn't hear any complaints about him. Did you?" she asked the waitress.

The ever-frazzled Teela looked to her with wide eyes. "Oh no!" she said over-loud. "He's been great! People love him too," she said with a smile, almost blushing.

"Well, looks like you're welcome back tomorrow, then." And Anjasa made note that she'd look into the missing bartender in the morning. She'd written it off as just fickle fancies, of some drama that had come up, but now she wasn't so certain.

"What's your name again?"

The handsome elf continued to clean the bar top off even as he smiled to her and spoke in his cheerful voice. "A-ooh-lin," he said slowly. "Aeulin," he repeated, then looked to her with some embarrassment. "Sorry, forgot I was speaking to a bloodkin for a second there. You get so used to spelling it out direct and slow for the humans... you forget." He said with a bashful shrug.

"It's fine, be here at dinner tomorrow."

She still didn't have a manager hired, and now there was so little chance of her trusting this place to anyone in her absence. Not until whatever Luscius had said was proven, undoubtedly, wrong.

The brothel was her baby, now, and she was going to take care of it and the girls that worked for her. "Close up out here. I'll go check the rooms."

Continued in The Vixen Arises (see link in Author Bio)

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