“Hey, are those porcelain?” I ask. “Because my friend Amanda loves to play at the vampire thing too, she has a pair but they aren’t half as realistic as yours.”
He closes his mouth for a moment and then says, “Yes, they are – porcelain.”
“Hmm, where’d you get them?” I try to make small talk so that maybe after a minute I’ll get the chance to slip away.
“The internet,” he replies.
“Oh yeah, I should have guessed.”
“I’m Lucas,” he says, offering his hand, it seems he’s dropped the intense vibe all of a sudden. “And you are?”
“Tegan, but I’m still not telling you where I live.”
“Pretty name,” he smiles. “Pretty everything,” his eyes wander over me, from my lips to my neck and then down.
The red head lets out a heavy sigh.
“Don’t mind Delilah,” says Lucas. “She’s just moody. Or maybe she wants you for herself.”
“I have to get back to my friends, they’ll be wondering where I am.” I interject.
“Don’t you want to stay and get to know each other?” he leers at me, and as he’s doing it he’s also manoeuvring me into the office. Not good. I try to resist but he puts his arm around my waist, and his grip is like iron. A second later all four of us are inside the office with the door firmly closed. The blond man sits down at the head of the desk while Delilah and Lucas take a seat in front of him. There are two other chairs but I don’t sit down.
“You can sit on my lap if you’d like?” says Lucas.
This is a very weird situation. I feel trapped. It really isn’t fair. I look down at my feet and let my hair hang over my face for cover because I can’t hold back the tears that are falling from my eyes. I shouldn’t be crying but I’m still so raw inside.
“Are you crying?” asks Delilah, stunned. The other two just seem to be staring at me.
“Please can I go, I know it’s mad that I’m crying but this is – this is the first time I’ve been outside since something very, very bad happened to me and…”
“Hush.”
I look up and the blond man has suddenly appeared in front of me. He tilts his head to the side. Then he traces a finger down my cheek, wiping away a tear, and of all things sticks it in his mouth.
“I like that,” he says, and I don’t know if he means the fact that I’m crying or the taste of my tears.
“Do you – do you work here?” I whisper.
“I own this club.”
“Oh,” I pause in disbelief. “Really?” my forehead scrunches in confusion. He’s far too young to own this place. Another pause. “Well, if that’s the case then could you please ask your friend over there to back off and let me leave?”
“I don’t know if I want you to leave.”
“What?” I ask, getting scared now. This has to be a dream. A fucked-up fantasy at best.
He laughs, but it isn’t malicious. “I’ll let you go, but first, would you let me try something?”
“Um, yes, well it depends on what it is.” I allow.
“All I need you to do is stare into my eyes and concentrate on what I say to you.”
Weirder and weirder, but if it gets me out of this odd situation then I suppose I should do it. “Okay.”
He places a hand on either one of my shoulders and then gazes straight into my eyes. His are stone grey and mesmerising like Delilah’s. He continues to gaze at me for at least thirty seconds and then quite outrageously he demands, “Take off your dress.”
I can’t answer, and for a moment almost completely against my will I feel like I’m actually going to do it. But then I snap myself out of it.