Pure Blood

833 Words
Malik - Three years ago. The lights of the party flashed multiple colors of electric purple, black, and red. The music and the seductive atmosphere had every human heart pumping fresh, hot blood through their veins. Humans were so easily entertained. Malik Cromwell stood up on the balcony of his night club and looked around. The same thing that happened any other night when tourists entered his domain was happening then. Same thoughts everyone was thinking. A couple making out in the corner, the girl was having her first tongue twisting minute. Malik chuckled to himself at her amateur thoughts. This hot guy kissing her, touching her, he could even sense the point where her panties grew damp. The boy was experienced and picked up on it as well even though he didn't even need to touch here there. Not yet. A few guys on the dance floor were trying to dance with beautiful women. The sweat dripped from their pores, creating an aroma of salted heat. Malik turned his attention to the bar where chicken wings and beer were being scarfed down. He knew the ecstasy of s*x. He's had many women in his years. Virgins were his favorite. They got wet so easily. He could control how they felt during s*x. He never let a lady feel pain, and once he worked past her barrier, he'd send her away and make her forget everything. But the taste of food, he'd never known in his life. Malik was a pure blood vampire. He'd never known the struggle of human existence. He was born into the world of vampirism. Manipulation, power, Malik got everything he ever wanted with a simple snap of his fingers. Too easily did women get lost in his dark brown eyes, men respected him just by looking at his tall, dark persona. Being a black vampire made him devastatingly handsome and intimidating. It also made him the vampire king of New York. His family built this city, he was around to see Lady Liberty herself placed in the Hudson. It was a city designed for vampires only, but Malik wanted humans there. He looked at them as a sense of entertainment. He believed humans and vampires could co-exist. So long as they knew who was in charge. In charge he was. He made a deal with the Balthazar blood line that he could co-exist without incident. He was bound to a law that he could not kill more than a hundred humans per year and couldn't kill his own kind. If one of his vampires killed a pureblood, they were sentenced to death. He could turn humans as long as he took responsibility for them, and he did. They became his family. Malik had lost his parents centuries ago and was an only child, so he craved the loyalty and unconditional love of family. The only problem with turning a human, if he didn't let them feed from him, they would lose their humanity. Reduced to nothing but a rabid beast with an insatiable hunger for blood. They also had a sensitivity to the sun. A pure blood could be in the sun, but the night life was preferred. Malik chose his family carefully. The decision to turn someone never came lightly. That was until he noticed a tall, confident man walk into his club. A college stud with his group of frat brothers. He normally had Chad the bouncer throw out the type, but watching the one who went by Byron Owens caught his eye. Owens..Owens…where had he heard that name before? Why was it so familiar? Malik rubbed his chin in thought and gracefully made his way down the balcony toward Byron. “Welcome to Lust, I am the owner and would like to introduce myself." He held out his hand, “Malik Cromwell." Byron took a firm hold of Malik's hand and shook it, “Byron Owens." Malik studied him a moment. The tragedy swimming through his mind, and the sister he left behind. The anniversary of his parent's death, feeling like he didn't do enough for his younger sister. Unable to be with her this time of year. Malik had seen how humans react to tragedy in more ways their little minds could comprehend. He almost saw himself in the boy, not just because they both lost their parents, but because he refused to be what happened to him. Humans loved to victimize themselves. They were either the purest souls in the world, or the most corrupt. More than a blood thirsty monster could ever be. This Byron was no victim, not one to cry about the things that happened, nor the way he felt about himself. He simply set out to do what was best for him. Malik took Byron under his wing, led him away from his friends, built his trust to tell his story, and made a decision. He grabbed Byron by the neck, and sank his teeth into him.
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