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A big move, and Jack lucks out â€“ or in?
A man in a black turtleneck and shades sat on a small stool near it. Besand handed him a bill, and the bouncer opened the door.
Cool air from the street immediately flowed into the building as if sucked from a giant vacuum while at the same time the heavy beat of loud music almost blew him back out onto the street. He waited a moment for his hearing to adjust to the louder sounds, and then entered the dark room ahead. Besand had no trouble seeing in the dark, even with the flashing, colorful strobe lights all around the room. Waves of people gyrated with the rhythm surrounded by walls of pulsating light. Large video screens here and there flashed between screaming musicians to images of war and rioting in various stages across the world.
Besand wondered about these people's morbid fascination with violence and death. It seemed they feared it less that he did, which was odd considering his immortality. And at no time did he prey on a victim who welcomed Death's touch willingly, except maybe Dalia. That was different, since she knew about her pending immortality. Still, she was the most willing, fearless, and death defiant.
These people seemed numb. Most of them were high, drunk, or both. He wondered if that had anything to do with it. He would enjoy seeing how much fear was in his victim's eyes tonight when faced with the very real prospect of dying instead of watching it on a large screen.
Besand spotted the bar across the room. As he approached, he noticed a young woman sitting alone at a stool. She was sitting rather strangely, hugging her legs to her chest with her chin propped up on her knees. She was wearing black, lacy leggings, and little black boots that moved up and down in time with the music. Her blond hair was short, and barely reached her pale collarbone. Her lips were adorned with a very dark red lipstick and her finger nails in black or dark midnight blue. Besand flinched a bit when he noticed the silver chain around her neck, but then she looked up at him. She didn't smile, but looked rather curiously at him. Something stirred inside of him, and he knew this was the one. Perhaps the challenge drew him? She looked world wise, alert, and that chain would be a problem. He locked her eyes with his, and slowly crossed the room.
"Is this seat taken?" Besand asked.
She shook her head never breaking the eye contact.
"Thank you. My name is Besand."
She smiled for the first time, exposing a set of radiant white teeth. "That is an interesting name, Besand. I'm Suzy." She offered her hand.
Besand kissed it gently. "I noticed you aren't drinking anything. Can I get you something?"
"No, thank you."
Besand shrugged and ordered a glass of red wine. Suzy lowered her legs, crossing them, and turned in her stool to face him. She watched him take a sip of the wine and return the glass to the bar. "Actually, I might have changed my mind," she said. "It that any good?"
Besand offered her the glass. "Try a sip for yourself."
She accepted the glass and brought it to her lips. She gazed upon Besand's handsome face as she took a sip. "Mmmm, that is good." Besand ordered another glass insisting that she keep that one.
The next few hours passed as minutes. They drank together, telling each other stories, sharing in laughter. They danced, progressing from casual movement, to grinding their bodies together in time. Each time she backed against him, he felt her warmth through his clothes and watched the sweet veins in her neck beat faster and faster as she moved. He watched transfixed and felt the waves of emotion drown him.
Besand offered to escort Suzy home when he noticed her yawn.