Violent Delights

“I heard, you tell them you want to find your soul mate, and they know how! One of them will give you a herb you mix into your tea, and you dream about him that night, the other will read the tarot and describe his job and life to you!” The young woman speaking erupted into giggles as she lifted her take out coffee cup to her lips.
“As if that is really a thing anyone can do!” Her friend friend snarked with a roll of her eyes as they walked the quaint little street that seemed out of place in such a large city. 
Walking towards them another young woman had her hood pulled up against the fine mist of rain that was falling. She smiled very slightly as she listened to their conversation, then turned into a doorway that lead into a cosy looking pub named the Wolf and Waif. She threw her damp hood down and tried to shake out the waves of her dark hair as lavender eyes scanned the dimly lit room for the person she was meeting here.

The young woman she was meeting was making quite a stir in the pub. In fact at the moment the little blonde was standing on one of the tables, singing and dancing as a man played a violin nearby. She was swishing her flowing turquoise skirts in true gypsy style, keeping the focus of the group around her table on herself. 
When she saw the other woman she raised her hand above her head. All those seated nearby began to complain as she jumped down. Ginger stopped singing and headed towards her sister, a wicked grin on her face.

The darker haired sister arched her brow slightly, though a smile was tugging at the corners of her lips. “Table dancing? Really? Why not just have them stuff the money right between your breasts next time?” She scoffed, though was clearly only teasing. 
“Dahlia!” The over of the tavern greeted the new arrival with a smile and a warm embrace. “I have your usual table waiting.” He exclaimed, as though waiting for a pat on the head.
Dahlia smile courteously and inclined her head in thanks. “Thank you, Graelish, and I assume my sister hasn’t broken too many glasses so far?” She was grinning again, bumping ginger with her hip as she walked over to the table that had been reserved. Once she was seated Dahlia removed her velvet coat she had been wearing and gently set it aside, readjusting the ornate looking clothing she wore beneath it. Like her sister she had a flowing set of skirts, though her’s were deeper in hue, rich jewel greens mingled with slate and charcoal. Her torso was covered with a teal and grey corset that left her shoulders bare, though her long hair covered them anyway. Once she was comfortable, Dahlia picked up the glass Graelish had left for her, bringing it up to her nose and breathing it in. “Mmm, molasses.” She breathed before taking a sip.

The blonde who had been dancing on the table kept walking dreamily to the door as Dahlia sat down at her table. "He didn't even notice me when I walked in." The real Ginger whispered. A redheaded woman was seated in the darker section of the booth, her hood pulled down. She knew what she was saying was a bit childish but hell, it was a bit of a triumph for her. She worshipped Graelish and yet the man would probably never know. "I traded the blonde a love potion for a distraction." Happily, the younger of the two sisters pushed the hood off. Her slightly chubby cheeks were already red from the drink she had in front of her.

Dahlia smiled at her sister, knowing well how she struggled with telling others how she felt. “Sweetie, Graelish only saw me because I bring money to his little dive.” She assured her sister, reaching out and patting her hand gently. “But, I have to wonder, what were you wanting a distraction for?” She added, leaning her chin in her hand with her elbow on the table as she watched her sibling, her lavender eyes seeming warm only when looking upon her beloved sister. “Want me to read your cards again? See what your mystery man is doing lately?” Though she said this, Dahlia had never read her own cards. She had also refused to allow Ginger to give her one of her potions to see who her own soul was entwined with.

Ginger nodded sure her sister would say he was one with the spirits as she always did. The shorter of the two always assumed that it meant Grealish was mixing drinks. She'd been sure it was him since they first met him. 
"I could trade the reading for a potion of the same kind?" She offered, knowing her sister would turn it down. "Don't you want to know about tall dark and handsome?"

As though he knew he was being thought of, Grealish had returned to their table, setting down a plate filled with pastries. “I know you like the apricot ones…” He murmured, though his eyes were clearly flicking down to the swell of Dahlia’s breasts.
The elder sister had to do everything she could to bite her tongue when she caught him leering, again. He was a useful source of information, for now. Instead she simply smiled at the the tavern owner as she toyed with the amethyst pendant around her neck. “Oh Gray, you’re simply too kind to us.” She purred, though her skin crawled as she said it. 
Her response to his gift seemed to fluster the blue-eyed bar tender and he grinned as he walked away.
“Ugh, honestly Ginge… What do you see in him?” Dahlia asked, pushing the plate closer to her sister to create a space to set up her cards. “He’s not the one you need. Your soul belongs to a warrior, a man worthy of it. Not some lecherous vagabond.” She sniffed as the card were laid out. It was quite obvious she had avoided the whole issue of Ginger having already taken a peek at what her elder sibling’s soul mate would look like.

"That's not right." Ginger said as she leaned over the table to look at the cards. She knew better than to touch her sister's cards but what she saw made her confused. 
She'd looked into the crystal ball and the spirits certainly hadn't shown her anything that was lined up here. "Reshuffle. This isn't right."

The door to the pub opened and a man stepped in, looking to get away from the crowds and noise. Glad that this particular place wasn't seen by normal people he waved to the bartender and took a booth toward the back where he could relax in the quiet. It had been a long day and he was done with it.

Dahlia was rarely curt with her sister, but that’s how the look on her face seemed in that moment as she looked up, deep purple nails tapping the table top in annoyance. “Oh I’m sorry, did you suddenly receive understanding of the tarot in the last five seconds?” She huffed.

Graelish was straight over to the stranger’s booth, knowing power when he saw it. He was offering him the same kind of over the top service Dahlia always received. “What can I get for you this evening? I have some wonderful scotch in the back room, or if it’s something a little more decadent you require, I also…” He glanced over his shoulder to ensure no one else was listening, mostly Dahlia and Ginger. “I have some Fae wine, it will leave you tripping for days.”

Ginger sat back, shoving her hair back and crossing her arms. "Go ahead. Read them." She snapped. "But that's not my mate there on that card. I've never had a grim reaper associated with him. Darkness either." 

Glittering red eyes met blue ones and the well dressed man shook his head. He gave the bartender a dark smile as sharp canines touched his bottom lip. "I have no taste for Fae of any sort. They simply aren't palatable to me." He said in a royal tone. "I will however, take that scotch you mentioned."

Dahlia tried to snap a retort back to her sister, though had nothing. She looked back down at the cards and suddenly felt it difficult to breathe, and it had nothing to do with the tight lacing of her bodice. She couldn’t hide from it. A powerful man, immortal and with refined taste. She turned another card over, now the Queen of Swords was lay atop of the King of Pentacles. “A powerful, rich man entwined with a strong minded woman wishing to topple the system…” She murmured, her usually smooth brow creased as she sought to understand who this reading was for. “But Death… renewal and transformation when the door to an old life closes…”

Graelish saw the teeth and quickly nodded, understanding what this man was. He rarely had vampires in the pub, as he didn’t stock and blood wines. “Of course, I shall fetch you some right away. However…” He swallowed hard, torn between his own desire, and wanting to please such a powerful man. “Y-you should know that there are fae who so frequent my tavern.” He stammered, though didn’t give Dahlia and Ginger up right away.

Ginger snorted, as her sister spoke. "Don't tell me that's about me. I'm not the queen of anything except human food." She popped her head over the booth, her nose detecting a beef wellington being taken to a table in the opposite corner. "Someone is special. He never serves us stuff like that." She muttered. She tried hard to see who was there but could only see darkness. "Oh fluff." She added, tossing a napkin in that direction. 

Vincent lifted his head, the whisper of the napkin hitting the floor disturbing his moment of peace. He turned his head to see where the sound had come from, frowning deeply when he saw the pudgy wide eyed fae woman looking back at him. His intense dislike for her kind was immediate and precise. But instead of letting her or anyone else know it, he sat back and closed his eyes. 
He had to keep himself clean. There were so many things he had left to do. He needed more than a stiff drink and a warm bed to accomplish this on a night like this it seemed.

“Ginger!” Dahlia huffed when she saw her sister sulking. “If you wanted beef wellington, I am quite sure Graelish would bring it to you. Despite his many talents, he is not a mind reader.” She added, shuffling the cards and laying them out again. “Death, the king and queen… not possible.” She mumbled, closing her eyes and simply setting the cards aside this time.  “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” Dahlia commanded as she rose to her feet with the grace of the highborn she was. A moment later her flowing skirts were sweeping across the tavern to the bathroom.

Victor barely felt the tiny woman that had slammed into his chest. But her scent filled his nostrils and tore through him like a hunger he knew all too well. "Careful there, Miss." He said softly, managing to catch her before she tumbled to the ground. "Seems like you are somewhere else tonight." He added with a dark purr. The fae were a terrible bunch. But they tasted so lovely, like a fine wine that had aged for a century. 

Ginger decided not to listen to her sister and simply "borrowed" the tarot cards. She gave them an irreverent dealer's shuffle and set them up as she'd seen Dahlia do so many times before. If the crystal ball would tell her nothing then perhaps the cards would.

Dahlia knew what Vincent was the moment his icy fingers touched her bare arms. Despite this, there was no fear in the lavender eyes as they looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. This particular fae had indeed aged for a century, several here in the human world in fact. The fae were known to be a dangerous creature, to the human eye they were beautiful and sweet, but beneath the surface, they were just as ravenous as any vampire. This highborn was no different. If anything, the secrets she held made her even more dangerous. Once she had taken a brief moment to absorb the man before her, Dahlia simply smiled. “Are any of us truly meant to be here?” She asked, her own voice just as lilting and seductive as his had been. 

Ginger would find nothing but disappointment in the cards. All they revealed were faceless numbers, a mishmash of crossed readings. Apparently these cards were loyal only to their true mistress. 
“Cards? Here?” A man with silver hair and golden eyes had seated himself at the table, a half smile on his lips as he watched Ginger. “Isn’t that the sort of thing girls pay those two kooky witches in Violent Delights to do for them?”

Vincent snorted and put his arms up so that the sylvette creature could pass beneath him. "Humans, no. Fae, never. The rest of us... perhaps." He said with a chuckle. "You and the little piglet need to hide yourselves better. You're going to get yourselves served to the highest bidder. That bartender is quite willing to serve." He warned.

Ginger was instantly offended. She reached for the cards and yanked them all towards her, making a mess of how she placed them in the bag. Then she yanked her hood over her head. She'd used up far too much of her magic that day to hide herself from this stranger and his lovely eyes. 
"The Violent Delights is a perfectly legitimate business. The ladies who run it are lovely if you weren't satisfied with whatever they told you that's your problem." She muttered. "What happened? Did your card reading not tell you what you wanted? Did you not get the girl? Or perhaps were you not able to get a love potion? Or was it money? By the gods... It's always women and money with you men isn't it?"

Dahlia’s lips curled into the kind of wicked smile that seemed unbefitting to anyone who didn’t know what she was truly capable of. “Hiding would imply fear, Mr…” She paused, awaiting a name. 

Her new companion simply smiled as Ginger waffled on. “Well gee, seems you know everything about me, huh?” He asked, though his golden eyes remained rather friendly. “But for the record, finding love or money is not at the top of my list, miss.” He saw her strange appearance, and yet here he was, actually settling into the booth a little more comfortably.

"Black." Vincent told her, fixing her with ruby colored gaze. He returned her smile. He notes she hadn't moved even though he'd given her her the space. He closed his eyes, breathing her in. "It isn't you who smell of weakness, woman." He whispered. 

Ginger pulled down her head further, thinking he hadn't seen and tried to slide toward the edge of the booth. "Look...you should find your own booth. Or...I can give you a coupon to the next pop up of the Delight caravan...I mean whatever...just..." She turned her head, trying to find Dahlia. She couldn't find her in the darkness.

“Oh? And what is it I do smell of?” Dahlia’s lips curled slowly around each word, her lavender eyes almost seeming to shift as though they were made of liquid. “I fear you have been in this world too long, Mr Black, you forget just how powerful a mere woman can be.” She responded, patting a slender hand lightly to his chest, though didn’t offer up her own name. 

“Interesting…” the young man remarked. “You think the delight caravan will be here soon? Because I heard a curious tale.” He added, leaning across Ginger to take one of the apricot pastries Graelish had left on the table earlier. “Men are being found in hotel rooms, their bodies drained of all life and essence so nothing but a husk is left behind.” He paused and chewed thoughtfully on the pastry he had chosen. “The pattern seems to be falling under a full moon too. Weird, huh?” He added. “It’s a full moon in three days, and you seem awful keen to have me find a woman.”

Vincent grabbed Dahlia's wrist and yanked her hard against him. "Do not play games with me, Dahlia. I know full well who you are. I was there when my little brother was executed because of your childish whimsies." He snarled. "I hate the fae. You especially. Don't talk to me of power. It means nothing." He shoved her back toward the wall and followed her there, pressing her against it with his body. "If you want to play games, my dear, we shall play them. However, I'm afraid right now I have better things to do." His eyes flashed with these words and he disappeared in a swirl of black mist, leaving her alone in the hallway. It would take her a moment to realize he'd stolen the very tiniest of tastes from the valley of her breasts.

Ginger frowned at this, trying not to give the man a slap. Those were her favorites. 
"Sounds like a mummy maybe? I dunno. I don't keep up with cryptids." She muttered, nervously scratching at her wrist. "Not sure what a full moon has to do with it...What are you? A magic police or something?" She grunt, cringing when she heard herself. "That sounds gross." She added, turning to look for her sister again. She noted that the dark haired man had returned to his table and a short blonde had joined him. The two were leaned toward one another and talking in hushed tones.

Dahlia was left leaning against the wall, her lavender eyes wide and tears clinging to her dark lashes. She had fled to the human realm after her mother had killed the only man she had ever loved, and made her watch. She had spent many centuries attempting to forget him, and the pain her feelings had caused him. This couldn’t happen, not right now. Dahlia decided this was merely part of the game Vincent had just declared he didn’t have time to play. She pressed a hand to her chest as she tried to calm her pounding heart, and that was when she felt the tiny trickle of blood at the swell of her breast. Dahlia swept from the hallway and back into the tavern, not even casting a glance in the direction of Vincent’s booth, though though lingering scent of the forest after a rainstorm would no doubt alert to her presence.

Ginger’s companion would suddenly find the pastry smacked from his fingers and hauled from the booth by a woman who seemed too svelte to have moved him. Dahlia gave him no explanation and was silently gathering up her tarot cards and reaching for her heavy velvet coat. “Get your shit Ginger, we’re leaving. Now.” She barked, dropping some money on the table for Graelish before sweeping to the door. Though she had told Vincent she feared nothing, that wasn’t exactly true. Dahlia feared her mother, and seeing a possible piece of her past creep up again after all this time had her terrified the elder fae had found a way through the veil.

Ginger had no idea what was going on as she trotted outside after her sister. The night was much colder than when they had stepped into the now dark pub. It was snowing on the silent street. There were no people walking around them or even anyone heading toward their homes. The night was dark and dreary, which was never a good sign.

Dahlia had walked in silence for some time, her hood pulled up over her head as the snow fall grew heavier. If there had been anyone out here, it would seem rather odd that the two women left no footprints in the snow as they walked. Each step created an imprint, but as each woman lifted her foot again, the snow fell back into place. It was Dahlia’s way of ensuring no one followed them home, though if Vincent truly had tasted her blood, she knew it would make little difference. She was cursing herself as she trudged on, aware that she should have been more cautious, not shamefully flirting because that was simply what was expected of her in this world. It hadn’t taken her long upon arrival here all those years ago for Dahlia to understand that humans understood the same thing as her mother; power. The easiest way to achieve power was money, and the easiest way to get money as a female? Beauty. It was so different to the fae world. Here, she was treated as useless and incompetent simply because of her gender. In her own world… that treatment was simply because her mother regretted Dahlia being her first born. After some time of being lost in her thoughts Dahlia realised they had reached their home. It was a grand estate with rolling gardens and lakes surrounding it. Not the home one would expect of two women who ran a magic shop that no one liked to admit they attended. There was a long driveway leading up to the main building and a fountain just outside. Though it looked to be the stately home of a grand family, Dahlia had chosen it for it’s location. Here the veil was strongest. Here she could sleep without fear her mother would simply one day reach through and drag her back into a world she no longer knew.

Vincent stepped through the portal and into the darkness of the fae realm. He'd been summoned. It was not a place he wished the be. He glanced at the dark throne that rested at the far part of the room. "Shahi there is no reason to be so insistent." He breathed. "There is nothing left between us. You have taken what you wanted from my family." 
An ornately decorated woman shifted in the throne and ran her fingers over the Wyvern head that lay in her lap. "There is always something between us. Your brother ensured the price will never be paid. Now, your next favor has come due."

Ginger yanked herself back from the crystal ball and frowned deeply. Her mother was planning something and from what she could tell it was involving the vampire camp. She wondered if she should bother her sister. She doubted Dahlia wanted anything to do with Shahi. And she certainly didn't blame her."

Finding herself alone Ginger didn't know if she should be surprised. It wasn't the first time she'd found herself thinking that Dahlia would rather be anywhere else than with her sister. 

Vincent returned to his stately home and sighed. He had to find a way to break free from that fae woman. She was the reason he worked so diligently to have their kind banished to the dark realms. Shahi above all others deserved this fate. But for now he had an appearance on the news channels about a new peace treaty their countries had been working on. He had to look his best.

Dahlia rarely lingered once she had what she needed from her monthly victim. The kind of dirty she felt got worse with each passing month, and some time she couldn’t even return to her own home through shame of what Ginger would see in her eyes. As she zipped her dress back up and slid her feet into her expensive shoes the dark haired fae caught another glance of her reflection in the hotel mirror. She didn’t know the face looking back at her any more. She had become the very kind of monster the humans used to huddle around the fire to keep safe from. If only they knew she paled in comparison to Shahi. The mirror shattered with no more than a thought from her, and soon the poor man in the bed was left alone, locked in the memory of his last night of sanity.

“Sir?” A blond head poked around the door into Vincent’s study, golden eyes seeking him out in the dim light. “The news crew just arrived. Shall I have them meet you in the dining room? Or would you rather they conduct the interview here?” The female vampire didn’t dare move any further into the room, though she did glance down to check a message that just pinged on her phone. “Oh no…” her murmur wasn’t meant for anyone other than herself.

"What?" Vincent bared his teeth and scowled, not liking the sound of the blonde woman's voice. The fact that she sounded so concerned had him on edge. He had once again given Shahi what she desired. How could anything be wrong so soon? There was no time for him to play damage control. 

Ginger sat on the back steps of the caravan and rubbed at her eyes. Her mother had returned to her once she'd finally managed to go to sleep. She was in trouble. She wasn't sure how to help. She couldn't simply walk through the veil like her sister. She wasn't powerful enough and Dahlia certainly wasn't going to listen. Not to mention her sister had simply disappeared. She felt so lost.

“Oh, uhm…” The female hesitated, chewing on her lip as she scrolled through the link she had just received. “The police, they’ve found an another victim of that low life they’re calling the Mind reaper.” She breathed. “Same as all the others, single male, alone in a hotel room in a vegetative state but otherwise stable.” She was reading directly from her phone. “I… I don’t want you being blindsided by this in the interview, that why I mentioned it. Our official stance is that we place full trust in the police and urge all men to be vigilant when drinking alone in bars.” She couldn’t help the bitter little snort that escaped her. “Funny how no one cares when it was women being assaulted…”

Ginger was lucky that her sister was so paranoid about being found. Their home was well wandered against anyone being able to follow them back here. Of course, Dahlia hadn’t counted on her little sibling still being in contact with their mother. Shahi no doubt had minions on this side of the veil able to track them.

Vincent's dark eyes narrowed at the blonde woman. He'd seen the darkness women were capable of first hand. Everything had known and loved had been ripped away by a single one. He was simply not the one to speak to about a woman's rights. "They're humans." He finally sighed. "They have rights like everyone else." 
He closed his eyes and just like that he was sitting before the burning glow of camera lights, a warm smile making his cheeks hurt. He was talking politics and trying to keep the subject far away from the newly disposed man when a sneering woman launched to her feet and shouted at him. He cocked his head and fixed her with a gentle smile. "Madam, do you think I am the savior of the world? I am the president. Not a god. There are people looking into the matter. And I am certainly keeping an eye on it." He put a hand to his heart, for a moment wondering if the fae felt a flutter there. "I grieve with the families and I offer my thoughts and prayers. When there is more that can be done, I shall."  

Ginger took a deep breath and began to sing a song her mother taught her about a jolly sailor. It only made her miss the elder woman even more. She was so lonely. She doubted Dahlia even understood. Not for the first time she thought about visiting another caravan and asking if the old crone there knew how to open the veil.