Skin crawling with a hunger you can't quench...
Who: Cristiana What: Business, then out for the night. Where: Her place, then a vamp nightclub When: Late. Obviously.
Cristiana lounged elegantly on her chaise, the pinstriped suit jacket she’d worn only minutes ago was tossed haphazardly across the back to reveal a crisp white shirt, simple tie, pinstriped corset, pinstriped pencil skirt, thigh highs and seven-inch spikes. Her assistant was yammering on at her but Cristiana only half-listened. Something about more meetings later that evening with one of her vampires, and one of the pack leaders about some Were issue. She was exhausted after having to wake up early to meet with the Mayor; she’d only had time for a little snack beforehand. Minor business dealings were the last thing on her mind right now.
“That’ll be all for the moment, Elizabeth. Please send Cristof in to me as soon as you hear from him, will you?” Cristiana stood, smoothing down her skirt in an absent gesture.
“Yes Miss,” Elizabeth gave a small head nod, clipboard clutched to her chest before heading out. The girl was barely a hundred, timid in life and not much better as a turned vampire, but she had her uses. Eager to please and more efficient than most, she served as a good assistant to Cristiana. Too bad she was just so… boring.
Cristiana grabbed her phone and decided to call him herself. “Cristof—pick up your phone,” She ordered when she got his answering service on the first ring. She waited impatiently, twirling a ring on her finger as she figured he was getting out of bed.
Not one to disappoint, his gravelly voice came on the line, sounding frustrated as he often did. “Cristiana? ‘Ello? I’m awake,” he mumbled. “Is it an emergency?” She could hear him shuffling around his apartment.
“ No, though parts of me would say otherwise. I need to go out, Cristof. I need to go out, socialize, and you to come with me. Maybe make some friends, and then bring them back home to continue the party before sunup. I can be ready in an hour if you can,” Cristiana said, years of training her tone was the only reason she didn’t sound whiny or desperate. She was thirsty, dammit. For many things.
“Of course,” he answered, and Cristiana had the sneaking suspicion that he was onto her. He sounded entirely too chipper.
“Fine. One hour,” she told him before hanging up, knowing he wouldn’t dare be late, especially if she was in a mood. Sliding gracefully off of the couch she powered down her computer and stashed her stuff back in her desk. Stepping out of her office and into a hidden elevator, a present from an illusionist witch she’d seduced eons ago; only those who knew how to access it could hit the button. Two stops down and she was in what one could call her closet, larger than most human houses, it took up an entire floor of her complex. Stretching slowly she stepped out of her shoes, placing them back on their spot in the rack. She had a shoe fetish and with as much disposable income as she had, Cristiana definitely put a lot of the stores in the black for the year. Grabbing her Jimmy Choo Shays, she slipped out of her skirt, tossing it off to the side before sliding into her favorite boots. Waltzing over to the racks of dresses, she ran her hands over the fabrics, trying to decide what she was going to wear out with Cristof. She undid her tie and corset, unbuttoning her shirt and adding them all to the pile of discarded clothes. She saw a sequined dress that she hadn’t worn in some time and decided on that for the evening, switching to her thigh high stiletto boots instead. Taking her hair from the knot it was in, she decided on leaving it down.
The bell rang announcing someone on the visitor elevator. She turned to the wall where the security screen was and saw it was Georgio, so she buzzed him in. “Ciao caro amico. Come stai oggi?”
“Good, mistress, thank you very much,” Cristiana smiled to hear Georgio’s broken English. She was teaching him, slowly but surely. He was slightly slow, but he’d been a servant in her parents’ house and she couldn’t send him on his own when they died. “Miss Elizabeta ask me to give drink to you soon,” he brought a tray over with a champagne flute of blood and a letter on it.
“Grazie, Georgio. That will be all,” Cristiana smiled at the elderly vampire, who returned to the elevator. She grabbed the glass and took a sip before turning to the letter. The outside showed nothing but her name in a small script, so she opened it with a sharp nail. Scanning it quickly, she found it to be a letter from a former lover who was visiting New York. She debated on her plans. She was prepared to go out with Cristof, to party and play. If she were to take the offer to dine with Vincenzo, her night could be entirely different. Not to mention she’d have to change to present a slightly different image. She took another sip, mulling it over. Her intercom sounded. “Yes?”
“Cristiana, you’ve got a call from a Vincenzo on line two, and Cristof is downstairs discussing matters with Bradley, just so you know,” Elizabeth informed her. Cristiana could hear the girl typing away as she talked, ever productive. She wondered if the girl ever let loose and had fun.
“Okay thank you Elizabeth,” Cristiana said, decision made. She pressed the button for line two, catching the tail end of an argument in Italian in the background. “Am I interrupting something?” She asked bemusedly.
“Ah mia bella, never. Just an underling who needs to learn his place. I was wondering if you received my note?” He asked, voice like honey as always, even when he was murdering children.
“I did, and I’m flattered. I would be honored to dine with you at your earliest convenience but I regrettably have plans already this evening,” Cristiana told him, taking another sip.
“Plans with someone more important than myself?” Vincenzo said, voice taking on a harder tone as he was insulted and not expecting a rejection.
“Not necessarily,” Cristiana said cautiously, wondering what she had ever seen in the older vampire. Her mind flashed back to his temper, to his fetishes, to what her life was like when she was young and rebellious and oblivious to her actions. He was a firm believer of sex and blood being entwined, which she herself had no problem with, but Vincenzo took it to another level.
“I am most displeased,” Vincenzo said quietly.
“I apologize, but I must go,” Cristiana said before he could say anything else. She disconnected, finished off her drink and stood, shaking off the troubling and worrisome thoughts. She grabbed a satin trench coat before stepping out into the public elevator, headed down to see Cristof.
She found the handsome vampire in the security area, discussing something with the front desk manager. “Ready?” She asked him, checking her lipstick in the mirror on the wall. At his nod they moved to the limo waiting at the curb. The night sky was lit up with city lights, blurred as they drove to the club.
The place was run by vampires, allowed weres and witches if they promised to behave, and humans stupid enough to want to be bit, or tricked into it. It was underground in every sense of the term. She had to deal with the owner all the time, to make sure things didn’t get too out of hand, lest the Mayor get upset with her about missing humans. Cristiana walked in, feeling Cristof break off to talk to the bouncer, who was a friend. She handed off her coat to the small girl working the coat check and started to make the rounds, say hello to some people she knew and hadn’t seen in awhile. Turning, she thought she saw a familiar face.