Prison of Blood and Lies

There are two types of courage in this world. One demands that we jump into action with our armor on. The other demands that we strip ourselves naked and surrender. Bravery is an interesting thing.      ~Jeff Brown I slammed the newspaper down on the dingy motel table and almost knocked the table off balance. My throat felt parched and I couldn’t concentrate any longer. I would need to go out and feed. It’d been months since my murder and rebirth. I still wasn’t used to the whole succubus thing. On cue, memories flooded back to the forefront of my mind. Vance, my husband, dead. I never even got to say goodbye. And our babies. Gone. I held my stomach, where the twins once lived. What had once been full of life and love was now void. An empty, dead space. Like me. Tears pricked my eyes and I fought them back. I touched the braided bracelet on my wrist and took a deep breath. Though we were all dead, the connection I had to my sons was unbreakable. I couldn’t allow myself to return to the dark hole of grief. Not yet. I would have an eternity to grieve when I took out the bastard who killed my family. I went to the dresser and put on a miniskirt and a tube top. I teased and tousled my ginger hair and rimmed my eyes with thick, black eyeliner. The lipstick I applied was as red as the blood I hoped to spill tonight. I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. I checked the contents to be sure that I had everything before I headed out. I passed through the lobby and walked by the desk. “Oy, you. Alice,” the motel manager shouted after me. I waved but continued walking. “If you don’t pay up, I’m going to have to evict you,” she yelled. In my old life I had perfect credit. I worked hard and prided myself on taking care of my debts. Now? Now I could see what a waste of time all that was. None of it mattered in the end. Not one bit. My perfect credit and sterling reputation didn’t save me from my fate. The traffickers who targeted me and my family didn’t stay away because I’d never missed a mortgage payment or missed a Sunday at church. The community didn’t mourn my death any differently any other tragedy. I was a blip in the newspaper and a spot on the evening news. So, what does it matter if I’m evicted from this cheap hotel? There are dozens of others nearby just like this one. I turned a lot of heads as I walked down the sidewalk, toward the red light district of the city. No longer self-conscious about the attention and able to defend myself against the dregs of society, I walked on completely unbothered. In fact, being approached by one of these filth-bags would make my evening that much more enjoyable. A woman a few years younger than me paced back and forth on the sidewalk. Her skimpy outfit and slouched posture told me all I needed to know about her purpose for being out tonight. I approached her. “Hey,” I said, trying to appear non-threatening. “I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you new?” The air around her shimmered as she looked up at me. She glared at me and looked me up an down. “You gotta problem? I was here first, b***h,” she snarled. I put my hands up, palms facing her, and took a step back. “I’m not here to start trouble. I just wanted to introduce myself. I’m Roxy,” I lied. “And I’m busy. Beat it.” She turned to walk away. I put my hand on her shoulder. “Can I just ask you one question? I promise I’ll go after that.” She twirled around and punched me in the jaw. Her aura coalesced into a murky red around her in anger. Even in life I’d always been something of an empath, sensitive to the emotions of others. Since I’d come back, however, I could see people’s emotional auras. It came in handy when questioning pimps. Her punch barely registered and I didn’t move out of her space. “Who are you working for? Who’s your pimp?” She laughed. “You a cop ‘er somethin’? I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” “No. I’m a friend. Promise. I just want to make sure that you’re out here willingly, you know. There are lots of assholes out here these days. I know—I was one of the unlucky ones.” Her eyes shifted around. “I—I can’t. Get out of here before he sees, okay? If you know so much then you get what’ll happen to me.” I nodded and backed away, vowing to keep an eye on her. She might be my key into the trafficking ring. I questioned a few other women around the area with similar results. A car drove by slowly a few times before the driver stopped me on the sidewalk. Finally. I was starving. “Eh! Com’mere!” The man shouted at me. I turned on my succubus charm as best as I could. I strutted slowly toward the car and leaned on the door when I arrived. “Hi, baby,” I purred. “Yo, ah,” his eyes darted around. “You wanna go for a drive to some place private?” A smile spread across my face. I was careful not to let the tips of my fangs peek out from between my lips. “Well, that depends, baby. Three hundred. One hour. Anything you want.” He balked and frowned. “You crazy? One hundred.” “I suppose I could go down as low as two fifty. You look like you could give me a good time.” I stroked my fingernails across his forearm and pushed a little seductive energy his way. “Aight. Two fifty.” “Okay. I have a room just a few blocks from here.” I gave him directions to my secondary “working” room and laid the charm on for the whole drive. The lustful energy coming off him tempted me. It would have been so easy to just have at it in the car. Dinner, however, would have to wait until I got some work done.