Things got interesting on the third day.

The lounge might not have been the biggest of its kind, but it was clearly strictly to the Nuhuna standard and the clientele was quiet and well behaved. These places weren’t for drunken carousing. People came to the lounges to mingle and feel a touch of class, even if feigned. And of course for the performances.

Vanaka waited on her side of the employee entrance and made some final adjustments to her outfit. Much of her luggage consisted of different dancing costumes; personalities folded up and carried in bags.

Tonight she was the Crimson Queen, a character she had only spoken of to her ansoti, whom she could trust to only laugh at her in a good-natured fashion. But as before, now that she stood in front of a mirror, about to perform... she didn’t feel silly at all.

The outfit was simply a full-body suit complete with a hood. The only opening was for her eyes. All else was hidden beneath a rich, deep hue of red. She finished smoothing out the last of the creases, and a few seconds later an employee signalled for her to walk out.

Vanaka didn’t walk, though. She strode. She strode out with an air of power and grace that she normally denied herself. The stage was big enough for group dances and whole bands, and due to impressing the local manager she once again had it all to herself.

She’d requested dim, red lighting for tonight, the kind to perfectly compliment her outfit. The hundreds that were gathered in the sitting area kept silent, as per local custom, but she could tell she had their attention.

And Vanaka danced. From behind a mask she dropped the mask society forced upon her and moved with the grace and power and danger of a predator. With the benefit of an abnormal muscular system she twisted her body, spun, leapt and gestured. Matching a carefully-chosen song, she expressed feelings she’d never found the words for.

It wasn’t long before she held the crowd spellbound. All sorts of naughty, anti-social impulses intruded, and from behind her mask she indulged them. How many of these people were fantasising about her? How many would be happy to meet with her backstage after the show, utterly unsuspecting and vulnerable?

She carried the predator with her as she strode to the very edge of the stage, running her eyes over those in the front row. They had a look of slightly nervous excitement, which shifted into shock as Vanaka launched herself off the stage and landed smoothly on one of the tables.

She got up on the ball of one foot and moved in a slow circle as she swung the other leg over the heads of the two women below her as they watched with rapt attention. Then she continued on down the row of tables. None of these people had been prepared to be a part of the show, and she held them in the palm of her hand as she moved towards the end of the row, carrying the predator with her every step of the way.

At the final table sat a young man. He was cute, and as fascinated as any of the others. Vanaka bent down with a flourish, staring into his eyes from inches away. She gave his face a theatrical caress that barely actually touched his skin. Like the others he sensed the predator, even if he didn’t fully realise it, and he had the delightedly frightened look of someone sitting in a speeding amusement ride.

Vanaka wished she could simply pull him in for a bite. But instead she rose with another flourish and then leapt back onto the stage. Some of that local restraint broke and a couple of people whooped their approval.

She continued on, embracing the Crimson Queen with all the passion in her soul. She spun poetry with her body, and for a while she forgot all else. She was simply herself, cut off from all of the universe’s restrictions on her.

Erine knew how much this all meant to her, and how much she loved to revel in the afterglow as the crowd finally allowed itself to applaud. So the beep in her earpiece before the noise had even died down spoke of important news.

“She is here.”

# # #

As was typical, there was a mingling period between performances. To the guests it was a time of socialising, to the establishment it was a time to earn revenue at the bar and get the next dancer ready, and everyone was happy.

They gathered in small groups on the floor or pushed their chairs more closely together by the tables, or stood in lines for the servers or the facilities; most of them at least somewhat inebriated and none of them paying attention to their surroundings. And among these oblivious people stalked a great predator.

She had covered the red suit with a coat and replaced the hood with a veil that covered everything above her mouth. It didn’t seem to be typical nightclub-wear around here, but wasn’t notable enough to draw any real attention. Like a true hunter, Vanaka passed unnoticed.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

She didn’t gesture, jump or swing her limbs around dramatically, but she was still in character all the same. She didn’t walk as she usually did; a glimpse into a mirror confirmed that to be more than just imagination. There was a quiet confidence in her strides, a subtle show of power that she normally wasn’t allowed to display.

Vanaka watched her surroundings with the eyes of a hunter, taking note of people who separated from groups or were otherwise on their own, and measuring how close they were to a dark, secluded spot. She noted how inebriated each person was and how accessible the bare skin of their neck was. She noted their looks and how good they smelled if they happened to pass close by. None of them noticed her observations. Her eyes were hidden, after all, and she moved smoothly around the small clusters of people.

So many vulnerable people, each of them effectively at her mercy. All it would take was to follow her a little to the side and they would be hers. That cute guy from the end of the table row walked by, drink in hand. She could smell his hair products and he was close enough that she could simply reach out and pull him into her arms from behind.

In the back of her mind Vanaka knew that she was essentially a child playing bandit. She was never going to hurt any of these people. Even if she took the opportunity they would escape from her embrace with no more than slight fatigue and maybe a kiss on the cheek. But the game of pretend was fun; a minor rebellion against the taboos she had to abide by.

Her searching eyes found Erine and the woman found her. The ansoti was leaning against a pillar with a full glass in her hand, and simply inclined her head to the right as a signal. Vanaka looked in the direction and saw a loose group of people milling about by a part of the western wall. Still unnoticed, she stalked about until she spotted a woman that matched Para Thassa’s general body type.

The woman was wearing some sort of gown, with just enough class to fit in while still being the sort of thing a lowlife would have the money and style to wear. But she had her back turned to Vanaka, so she couldn’t be sure. The woman was talking to a girl who was probably Vanaka’s own age at the most. She was pretty, looked excited about something, and Vanaka was pretty sure she’d seen her talking with the manager the other day.

Her hunter’s eye scanned the nearby crowds and the terrain. Before her first performance she’d asked about security cameras, under the guise of being safety-conscious. Now she knew exactly how to avoid their gaze, and nimbly wove through both the people on her way to a better vantage spot.

It was Thassa. Vanaka caught her profile as she stopped on the fringe of a circle of friends as if she belonged there. And the girl she was talking to seemed utterly oblivious to the predatory air that hung over the woman. Thassa was out hunting.

Patience was among a hunter’s greatest assets, and so Vanaka simply stood where she was. She didn’t draw attention to herself. Barring tense circumstances, people generally didn’t bother questioning someone who carried themselves with enough ease and confidence, and the Crimson Queen had that in abundance.

She didn’t glance around. She knew that Erine was paying attention, and Vanaka simply kept Thassa in her peripheral vision. Here she was, simply a coiled serpent waiting to strike, and no one suspected a thing.

In time the conversation wrapped up. The girl still looked excited and hopeful; clearly she had been told things she wanted to hear, and she rushed off with the demeanour of one in a hurry to share news. Thassa calmly walked off in the other direction, crossing an empty stretch of floor by the wall... a wall that was covered by a row of tall curtains.

Vanaka motioned to Erine without looking back. Her ansoti knew this game well enough to be expecting the signal. Once Thassa was halfway across the empty stretch Vanaka made her move.

“Thassa!”

As the woman turned, Vanaka caught a momentary glimpse of a cold face before it vanished beneath a friendly mask.

“Yes?” the slaver said.

Vanaka stepped up to her as she would to a friend, with no hesitation or concern for boundaries.

“I thought about what you said,” Vanaka continued.

The slaver kept up the affable smile and waited for her to continue. People usually reacted this way as they searched their memory. It was only a moment’s distraction, but that was all the time Vanaka needed until Erine entered her peripheral vision.

Vanaka put a hand on the unsuspecting woman’s arm, then struck.

It was all one motion: Vanaka put a hand on the back of Thassa’s neck, swept her off her feet and in between two of the curtains, and her mouth found the woman’s neck like a guided missile. Her hand left the arm and clamped over Thassa’s lips, and she kept her pinned to the wall by simply pressing into her.

There was the old familiar twitch and muffled gasp as sweet, rich blood washed over Vanaka’s gums, followed by the equally familiar slackening as the venom took hold. The woman went from thrashing prey to a submissive sack in Vanaka’s grip.

Even as her system delighted in a fresh dose of blood to convert into her own, and strength flowed into her veins like a high, Vanaka was unsatisfied. These particular bites always were. She felt no affection for this woman, this creature. There was no fun in the encounter. Even so, she drank slowly, putting more of herself in the woman than she was taking out, while Erine stood guard on the other side of the curtains. The ansoti would reach through and tap her if someone neared. Vanaka would have time to make it seem like they were simply making out.

But they remained undisturbed. After a few minutes Para Thassa was as soaked in venom as she could reasonably get in one sitting, and Vanaka relented. She withdrew her fangs and put her mouth by Thassa’s ear.

“Where are the slaves being kept?”