“She’ll set your sweet tooths on fire, give it up for CANDY!!!” I rolled my eyes at Jerry and his lame as fuck introduction as one of the girls climbed the stage. She was somewhat new, but her body was young and flexible, even if she was closer to a hundred. Vampettes were like that though, and the fact that she was actually still fairly young by her particular clan’s standards was beside the point.
She was naturally wearing a little school girl outfit, holding a giant Lollipop that went well with her name when she began her routine. She looked like she was moving properly, the rehearsal had gone well. It helped that Vampires had natural dexterity and balance making them great at pole work.
I took my eyes from the show when the scantily clad girl started taking her top off while moving in time with the beats of the music that was playing. I allowed my amber eyes to slowly scan over the crowd, and the serving girls in their hip hugger skirts that showed off their thongs and thighs, with little nipple covers. The men (and some women), Human and otherwise throwing singles and tens onto the stage for the performers.
I was looking for trouble makers, that's what I was paid to do. That and to stop them. Luckily a strip club with a Prideling bouncer seldom saw trouble that was anything beyond a drunken argument over who would take which girl to the VIP room for a private dance that normally ended in fucking.
Even with the predator species that went bump in the night that frequented this place -Vampires, Lycanthropes, Goblins and Ghouls- it tended to be the Humans-’The meat’- that caused the most problems for us. They always thought their little guns and fake concoctions of herbs sold by fake witches would let them rob the place.
Even when the “would-be-robbers” were never seen again, it almost always happened once or twice a month. It had not happened yet this month, so I was expecting some gang banger to walk into a den of Monsters, knowing we were here, and then I’d have to ram his toy up his ass, and somehow keep the clients, the non-human ones, from eating him while in the bloody bar. The bar did not need the Cops actually harassing us for a killing done on the property.
I was standing at the door in my black bouncer shirt, the mic connected to the security room dangling loosely at my shoulders. My hearing was good enough that I didn’t need it too close even with the music blaring as loudly as it was.
I flicked my eyes toward the left for a moment, one of the girls was heading my way with a little extra sway in her step. Jenny, always trying to get into my bed. I was fairly certain the only reason she continued it at this point was because I denied her the first time.
She sidled up close to me, leaning against my side with her head on my shoulder. “Hey Leon, wanna go get that private dance I promised?” I suppose she was trying to be sensual, her voice was husky enough, and her large breasts were firmly placed on my bicep, but it didn’t really affect me. I grew up around women that were far more attractive than her, though she was high up there, for a Lycanthrope, one of the canine breeds. I never bothered learning which.
“No Jenny, get back to work or I’ll make sure Jerry knows you were trying to fuck the muscle again. You know you can’t take another strike or he’ll fire your ass, even if it makes him a good amount of money being shaken on that stage.”
She huffed lightly, muttered something I chose to ignore, and went back to work. She knew it wouldn’t happen, likely the only reason she continued, female pride or something stupid. She did choose to run her hand along my thigh as she passed though.
I didn’t take my eyes from the customers however, a small group in the back in particular, it was a mixing of Humans and some lesser fae that were mostly bark and no real bite. I think they were Brownies, judging by the smell when they had entered at the start of the night.
They had been in that same spot, have each only had one or two beers, and were hardly looking at the girls on the stage. They were either having a meeting in an odd location, not unlikely since we were in downtown Chicago, or they were going to start trouble.
Personally I was hoping they were looking to start trouble. I had not been in a decent brawl for weeks, and the lack of an actual fight was starting to cause issues. My temper was beginning to fray, and a Prideling with a short fuse was not good for business. My people had a long lineage of being Berserkers, and living in a kind of anger fueled bloodlust while in battle. There had not been a true Berserker born in centuries, but every Prideling had some small portion of that rage still. It was in our genetics.
“Yo, Leon, stop flirting with Jenny. The moron is back out front giving Frank some trouble.” The static key up of the radio mic hanging on my shoulder went off, the voice of our resident video surveyor screeched into my ear. The noise of a high pitched Pixie is not exactly the easiest thing on sensitive ears.
I clicked the little button on my shirt to key up my end and responded. “I’m heading over Greg, and fuck you and your voice. I told you to use the modifier when talking to me on the radios.” He didn’t respond, but I knew the little flighty bastard was laughing it up in that tiny ass room.
Growling a bit, I moved away from the wall and turned to my left to head out. The ‘asshole’ was a traditionalist in the SuperNatural community, a Troll of all things. It was the same old shit that most strip clubs will have to deal with. You know the type, religious, or all around anti-fun people yelling and screaming for the ‘Devils work’ to stop and for the women to give up on a job that can guarantee retirement before the age of forty with a great deal of cash, assuming they are actually good at what they do.
That’s for the Humans though. The majority of the Supernatural women that went on that stage did so because of past trauma, or centuries as a Working girl beforehand. Some even did it as a trial of adulthood, like Candy was.
The main difference between those nutjobs and this guy, though was the simple fact he demanded we string up all the Humans and torture then devour them. He was an old one, not the brightest or strongest of his kind really, but he had some pull because of his age.
In reality, that knowledge should have prepared me for what I saw when I walked out, it really didn’t. What it was, was my fellow Bouncer, a Were-Grizzly, trying to restrain about six very large, very ugly, and very angry Trolls that demanded to have the women as theirs, and the ‘Meat’ served rare.
I rotated my neck a bit and cracked my back before moving to join Frank in his attempt to not harm the Trolls as they did everything in their power to bulldoze him without actually setting off a fight with someone who could rip them in two.
Me? I went up to the biggest son of a bitch in their group, cocked my arm back and let fly a straight punch into his face. It wasn’t elegant, or pretty, or long lasting. The only thing that happened was he fell to the ground, and a few of his crooked teeth were snagged in my fist.
Almost casually I pulled the fangs out, dropping them into the little bit of blue blood that was pooling around where they had been forced out of his mouth before turning to regard the suddenly silent Trolls left standing, a wincing Frank, and a group of people waiting in line just staring at me.
I could actually feel my amber eyes glowing in the dimly lit street while I regarded the other trolls and growled at them. I smelled blood, I had finally hit something after a long time, and I wanted more. I wanted them to rush me, though Frank would likely stop them from throwing themselves at an Apex Predator.
“Jesus Leon! You know Jerry has rules on this shit!” I flicked my eyes to Frank and clenched my teeth. Jerry did have rules, no Violence to bring the Cops unless absolutely necessary. I doubted they would come for a band of old ideological Trolls but he would still probably give me an earful.
“Fine, have it your way, keep me from my fun. YOU! You green skinned, warty sons of bitches! This place is under my protection, you know exactly what I am, get lost, or get eaten!”
There, diplomatic. Trolls were a kind of warrior Race as well, at least that was the intent behind their creation. Ugly and brutal, with an easily dominated personality. The ‘Asshole’, an Ancient looking Troll who would be pushing three hundred now, nearly the end of their life span, came up and started snarling in their piss poor guttural language.
“Gri ‘oleta, mukra!...” He was entering a tirade, I knew the Language to some degree and I knew the idiot had called me a Bloodling, a very bad thing to call one of my people. At least it was. Now it was much the same as the word Nigger for the black humans among themselves. It was racist. Though had I been a member of the Old Guard, one of the Black Guard he would have been killed instantly, along with every single person present.
Frank’s eyes grew wide at the insult, and eyed me closely, while keeping an eye on the Trolls.
“Yes, yes, I’m a freak of Nature, abhorred by the natural balance of the World because of how my people came back. You can shove that shit up your wrinkled, warty ass and take a hike before I bare my fangs.”
I took a step forward, the people watching the show almost collectively gasped. Some of them had come only because a Prideling worked here, we rarely, if ever, sought work outside of our Prides. The others because they were regulars that knew me on sight. I was the ‘violent’ one.
The Trolls though, at least the weaker ones were frightened. I had released a pressure that most of my kind had before battle, it felt like death itself had arrived according to those that survived feeling it. A few actually scrambled back, while the Old fucker stood there, though he had flinched.
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It took another five minutes of this grandstanding before I finally growled again, and bent over to pick up the one I’d knocked out, throwing him at the few Trolls remaining and telling them to beat it. They finally did, though the Old one swore vengeance, yada yada yada. He did it every fucking time.
Snorting, I gripped the wrist of the hand I had used to grab the Troll with. I was strong, but he was a heavy son of a bitch. Heavy enough that when combined with the punch I’d thrown into his rock hard face earlier it made the joints ache slightly. Increased healing was a perk of my people though, thankfully. That didn’t mean we felt no pain either however.
“God damn Leon, what the fuck did ya do that for?” I flicked my eyes over toward Frank. That was the second time he had asked about my actions, it was beginning to piss me off. I shrugged at him again before checking to make sure there were no more trouble makers.
The majority of the line, and the crowd that had gathered to watch the event play out, the crowd being a mixing of humans, and a great deal of the younger generation of Supernatural beings, or those older that were simply curious why a Prideling had a shirt saying ‘Security’ along the front and back outside of a Prideling run neighborhood. The more affectionately called ‘Pridelands’ that dotted Chicago's slum districts. Though the ones my people had taken over seldom remained anywhere near what one would call a Slum when the take over and purchase was complete.
The areas quickly became functional, clean, and crime free areas. The fact that they actively chased and ensured there were no Police, or other forms of Civil Servants was an added factor into just why the areas were so secured. It was because at the end of a week if the Pridelings moved in and began purchasing the surrounding areas they took a very active and violent role in cleaning up the gangs in the area. Many lawsuits were filed against my people as well because of this of course, but none of them ever saw the light of day. The US Government relied too heavily on the military force my people helped provide should any form of altercation occur with another Country. The Angelic Host that still roamed the World were one of the main enemies that some of the European forces used in battle, among the stronger of the Fae Houses that never migrated to the new Country all those centuries ago.
I need to stop thinking about that shit though. I had enough memories from World War Two to last me in regards to fighting. I headed back into the Club, ignoring the cat calls from a few of the female clientele still in line.
When I got back in, I received the call on the headset from Jerry. His high pitched voice coming through loud and clear, along with the anger in it. “Get your furry fucking ass up here Leon!”
I growled out an obscenity before making it to the bar to let the girl behind it know I was heading to the boss's room. She gave me a thumbs up, likely trying to show support, but coming from a Leprechaun that was a little off putting, nasty little things were vicious. You never knew if they were supporting you, or planning to stab your kneecaps….likely both at the same time.
I did my best to simply ignore her psychotic little ass as I went up the stairs behind the bar toward Jerry’s office. Wasn’t a long trip, just a few dozen stairs but I did take my time with them. The last thing I really needed, or wanted, was my boss trying to ram a speech down my throat about what I did wrong, or should have done.
When I did enter the Office, it was on the left at the top of the stairs with the surveillance room on the right, I was greeted by Greg's older brother, Jerry. Pixies didn’t have children often, the downside to practical immortality, something only a few of my own people could claim any longer. A few hundred at most were ageless, but they were powerful.
So were these two bastards, cresting a little over four thousand years of age, Jerry was a short man, for a Pixie, with neon green hair and beat red eyes. His constant flitting about making the purple outfit he had on seem like a blurr. Lovely, he really was pissed.
When the door clicked shut behind me, the purple blur that was my boss suddenly froze in mid-air, turning toward me I could see his red eyes. They looked to be glowing, though I knew Pixies lacked the ability to make their eyes glow. It was a trick of the lighting in this office.
Considering he was a part of the Fae Underworld in the Chicago area, it wasn’t shocking he went for the extra flare. Not a lot of people, human or otherwise, know much about the Fae species differences.
“YOU!” I moved my head to the side, avoiding a very tiny dagger that had been aimed, half heartedly, at my head. “GODS ABOVE! Leon, what the fuck did I say? Were my rules not clear enough? Were they to complicated for you, you big mother fucking brute?”
I rolled my eyes, not the first time he had this rant. Beyond that, yes, I was a muscle bound brute. I was the muscle, that’s why he hired me. It sure as fuck wasn’t for my mind.
“I knew, just KNEW, that hiring you as a favor to the Prideling Ten to keep you out of trouble and place them within my dept was a bad move. But no, I just HAD to have a Prideling bouncer, I just HAD to have a WWII Veteran that fought the Angelic swarms of Europe, and the old Fae Houses that remained there. I just had to put the Ogre in my fucking pocket for keeping you from being hunted by your own kind for not doing what was your duty…”
I honestly had lost it a moment before, when he mentioned the current Prideling Leader, Ogre, I had gone still. I hated the man, I hated what he represented and what he had tried to make me do for him and our people. The mistake he had made, I was born an American, most of the Prideling ideals were not as...ingrained into my generation. The fact I was one of a handful of survivors from my own generation, while the newer ones were properly brainwashed into their fanatical worship, and desire to further the species was just another grudge.
At some point in his tirade, Jerry finally realized the danger he was in. He was old, he was powerful, but he was not a fighter, not really. Nor was he a predator. I had moved in close while his anger distracted him, and let out a single low growl.
It had the desired effect, he froze mid blur, and turned to look at me slowly. I could smell his fear, see the very tiny little drop of sweat on his brow when he realized I was so close to him. It would be stupid to kill him, we both knew that, he was the single factor keeping the Black Guard from hunting me down for my part in the incident the last time they came close to bringing the Blood Father back.
Ogre, however, didn’t want me dead, so he compromised. I stayed out of all Prideling affairs, if they showed up, I left, if they picked a fight in my area, I left. I had been cut off from my people, not a big loss, but it was felt. However, I would still kill this little blighted thing, regardless of how stupid it was. I was not a simple commodity for him to claim he owned, he did not earn my loyalty, he simply paid for services rendered.
A long moment passed while he stared at me, his fear growing, but his voice was calm when he spoke. “It cannot happen on Club property again, Leon, not without actual reason. It’s what I pay you for, understood?”
I simply stared at him. He would not apologize, that would imply he was weak, and to be weak before a Predator was stupid. Beyond that, no Fae ever apologized. I allowed that moment to stretch, making sure the Pixie realized how close he had come by mentioning the circumstances that brought me into his employ, that had cut me off from my people before nodding my head, very slowly, once.
“Good, get out, Leon...Just go, you’re done for the night.” I backed toward the door, not taking my eyes off the little Pixie, they were known to be backstabbers, and their weapons were very good at killing my people. World War Two had shown that when we fought the Older Fae that had stayed behind during their migration.
When I did leave the room, his brother was waiting outside, a sword drawn. He was the opposite of his Brother, a joker at heart, but deadlier by far. This one was a fighter.
“Leon.” a single statement, I eyed the little man and nodded. He put the sword away and pointed down the stairs. “Before you go, clean up the trash causing issues for Candy. She’s having an episode and we can’t have her snapping those pretty little fangs at clientele once her instincts kick in.”
I sighed, he smiled, I flipped him off and went downstairs, taking them two at a time. God damnit, was all I really thought when I saw the issue. It was the group of Humans, and the Brownies in their small Glamour that were the issue. A group of five in total, and they were trying to force Candy into the VIP section for a private session.
This was an issue with us helping her house move their young into adulthood. Their young were more timid than other Houses. Candy more so than most. She was what they called a vegetarian, she only drank rabbit blood, and never killed them. It made her weaker, though she should be strong enough to stop them from this.
The problem lay in her passivity and fear. Sighing once more, I moved through the crowd, ignoring the thump of music and instead keyed my hearing toward that corner. “...come on sweetcheeks, let us show you how to have a good time, I hear Vampettes that work here are all sweet and innocent, are you sweet, Candy?”
“No. Please, just let me go.” was her whispered reply, fuck me…
I sped up, even if she were a vegetarian she was still a predator, her fight and flight response was going to go into effect soon and then she would kill them. That’s the last thing this place needed, or me for that matter.
When I did reach them, I put a single heavy hand on the shoulder of a black Human, and squeezed hard enough to grind his fragile little bone structure in a painful way.
“Agh! The FUCK!!!” it got the others attention, luckily it wasn’t loud enough that anyone further than five feet could hear. I so did not need another audience for this stupidity.
“Now boys” I stated calmly, growling in the process “Why don’t you let my sweet little candy go, hmm? There is no need for you to all die tonight.” People always wonder why I call the girls mine. I’m not sexually active with any of them, but I am a Prideling, we are territorial, and all the girls that work here, because they are in my claimed territory, became mine. I protect them, they talk to me in turn. Candy sings for me if I ask her while she does her practice routine.
“Leon!” was the woman in questions cheerful reply. She knew the reason for me calling her mine, she was old enough, and smart enough, to know about my people.
Of course, what I did not want to happen happened, naturally. The Brownie that had Candy by the arm pulled her in close, using her as a shield and whipped out a gun, a glock. .12 mm rounds judging by the model. It was a fucking pea shooter, but if he fired it in here it might hit a Human, or something I couldn’t stop from eating them.
I laid a little extra menace into my voice, the growling tenure helps with such things. “Put the fucking pea shooter away or I am going to take it from you and ram it so far up your ass people will see the barrel when you talk little Fae.” Grinding the black man's shoulder hard enough a crack could be heard, his scream making everyone look over at us, seeing the gun...fuck.
The time to go big or go home had appeared. I took a small breath and let out a roar. My human throat changed slightly to make it more voluminous than my body could technically do by scientific terms. It overrode the music, and the DJ turned it off, while the girls dancing stopped their routines and looked over to see me, the five individuals, and Candy being held like she was.
Now, I may have little care for the men that came here, but I did pity them in that moment. Most of the women working here were old, powerful, and protective of their own. Candy was the ‘baby’ of the club, they all took care of her. I needed to end this quickly, or it would get further out of hand.
Of course, the Brownie that had the gun smelled of piss, the black man smelled like shit, and the other three permeated fear like the aphrodisiac, so like old cognac and chocolate to me, it was for almost everyone in this fucking place. I yelled out, making sure everyone heard me. “No one touches the meat, not on these grounds. They leave here whole, or I break the ones trying to get them!” It made most stop their first few steps, the girls however, they didn’t care. I wouldn’t hurt what was mine, they knew that but I would stop them. They wanted all five of their scents, nothing more.
“Girls, back up. We don’t want Candy snapping…” The Brownie started yelling, waving his gun at this point. Apparently the fear broke him. His blue eyes were all white, he’d start shooting soon. This was NOT a good end to my night. Before it could get worse, I moved. I threw the black man toward him, hoping Candy would forgive me, a gunshot echoed out, I felt the impact in my shoulder, and heard Candy scream...