It was darker in the club tonight with an ever pulsating strobe light giving flash images of contorting dancers. The room was much more crowded than the night before; Sarain had to shove to walk through it. This wasn’t going to be easy; with the room darker than before it left most faces in the shadows. She had lucked out last time by finding the drunken woman who had tipped her off about the Velvet Rose; Sarain didn’t expect to be that lucky again. At least she knew to ask about the club’s boss, but it wouldn’t do her much good if she couldn’t be heard over the blaring music. Besides, the employees had been too busy and reluctant to answer her before when the club was less crowded. But it looked as though Winston wanted her there, if he had asked to have the guard show her in. Perhaps she could use this to her advantage.
Sarain squeezed in between a lot of cluttered bodies; she needed to find a clearing. While trying to get by she felt a pair of strong hands wrap around her waist. She quickly spun around ready to hit the culprit, but came face to face with a mere intoxicated club-goer. It was a tall thin man with dark spiky hair and a lot of facial piercings. His eyes looked glazed over like he was possibly high or had one too many drinks. He didn’t seem to mean her any harm, he just wanted a dance. Sarain shook her head at him and said “No”, but the man didn’t let go. She tried to shove him off, but with little room and his tight grip on her, she was unsuccessful in doing so. After about a minute of struggling with the man, Sarain saw another pair of arms move in between them. The new person pushed them apart, and got the spiky headed offender to back off. It was dark, and the moving lights were making it even harder to see, but she caught a glimpse of blond hair. Winston? The spiky haired man walked off, and Sarain’s rescuer turned around. A familiar pair of blue eyes met hers. Yes, it was Winston.
She backed away bumping into a couple. She knew she needed answers, but she didn’t feel right about being there; it didn’t feel safe. She turned and pushed her way through the crowd. She needed to leave, she had to leave now. She could feel herself panicking, which she normally didn’t do, but all her instincts were telling her to get out of there. She searched for the exit; she had gotten turned around in the dark crowd. She moved past a group of badly dancing girls, and met with a wall. She had gone the wrong way, she was at the back of the club, and the exit was on the other side.
Sarain made her way back through the crowd, she now knew where the exit was, but the room was quite large and the crowd was unbearably hard to move through. She pushed past another couple, and looked up to see how far from the exit she was. She suddenly stopped in her tracks. Winston stood before her. Her heart raced as she watched him take a step closer to her, but she held her ground.
“Leaving so soon?” he asked, sounding perfectly passive, then he added, “You know, the polite thing to do would have been to say ‘thank you’ after I helped you out back there, but running away, well that was very rude.”
“I don’t like to keep company with vil sangs,” Sarain abruptly said.
“Then why did you come here?” Winston stated, and then continued by saying, “For someone who is so eager to get away, you sure like to seek me out.”
“Don’t flatter yourself, it’s my job,” she coldly responded.
He studied her for a moment, and finally said, “That’s a funny job for a small girl such as yourself. I would think that if you were any good I would have heard of you. But I have never even heard so much as a name.”
“My name doesn’t matter, trust me. I’m good, that’s why you haven’t heard of me,” Sarain shot back,
“Seems to me that if you were good, you would have killed me last night, instead of watching me with those unusual eyes of yours,” Winston replied observantly.
“The girl was in the way,” she said, half to convince herself.
“The girl was meaningless, you just liked what you saw,” he arrogantly boasted.
“Don’t make me sick, you’re just another piece of filth that needs to be done away with. I just needed to find out what your motives were,” Sarain snapped at him, but still tried to keep her voice down.
“If it made you so sick, why didn’t you look away?” he pointed out calmly.
“Why didn’t you just kill the girl?” she questioned, ignoring his comment.
“And what would be the point of piling up bodies, if I have willing participants at my beck and call? People like that don’t just grow on trees, and it keeps me fed and overzealous hunters such as yourself off my back,” Winston remarked making sense, but then he added in spite, “Besides, it’s not like I don’t enjoy a good kill, it’s just smart business.”
“You think you’re so clever, then what’s to stop me from killing you right now?” Sarain more calmly demanded.
“With this big crowd to witness?” he asked making another point.
“It’s dark, people are drunk, and no one is even the slightest bit interested in what we are doing now. They may not even notice, and even if they did, there’s no way they’d get a very good description of me,” she stated with ease.
“Maybe, but do you really think I’m the only vil sang here?” he securely commented.
Sarain went cold; she had been too distracted to realize that he might not be alone. Of course, if he was the boss there, he surely would have other vil sangs on staff. They may not all be, but either way it would be too hard to easily tell.
“It’s too hard for you to tell isn’t it? Who in this mass is human and who isn’t?” Winston observed.
Sarain looked out into the dancing crowd, the lights did flash and move wildly, but even with the abnormal lighting she still noticed quick glimpses of glowing eyes sporadically in the crowd. A glow that couldn’t be explained by a mere reflection of light; she could tell the difference.
The dancers moved like flickering flames; each twisting rhythmically in the pulsating light. The crowd of club goers made a ring of fire around Sarain and her unholy companion, but this blaze wouldn't bring her or the half demon to his end, instead it kept them in a stalemate; each having to keep their attack on hold. Too many onlookers made it unsafe for either player to make a move. To the room they were just mere people having a minor disagreement, but in truth they were enemies that would kill the other upon the first real opportunity.
Winston smiled slyly. He knew he was safe; with the protection of his guards and the crowd, Sarain couldn't touch him. Though she could wait until dawn so he couldn't touch her, this still felt like a win for him.
She could see the demonic glow in his vibrant blue eyes, that glow they have when they make a kill. She knew his smugness, and wished so much to be able to wipe it off his face. She felt almost as if her own violet eyes were glowing. Her hand was to her side, on her switchblade, but she was unable to draw it. All Sarain could do was stare on.
Winston smiled once more and said, "It looks as though you are trapped."
"For now, but not forever," Sarain answered, her hand still on her weapon.
"But still, you are unable to move, and 'for now' is all I need to be pleased," he responded.
That's when suddenly something unforeseen to Sarain happened. Winston moved toward her; and with all her years of experience, she never would have estimated such a move. Winston had boldly grabbed her by the neck and pulled her to him. Before she could realize what had just taken place, she found herself lip locked with the deviant being. His lips were cold; not like ice, but more like trying to kiss a cool breeze. Neither had closed their eyes, and both stared at each other with a deadly gaze.
Why had Winston made such an unexpected move? Maybe just to rub his arrogance that much more into Sarain's face? If so he had succeeded. Never had Sarain been so angered by a single act.
She shoved him away in disgust with him laughing instantly. He knew how much this behavior had disturbed her; being touched in such a way by something so unclean. Her hand went to her mouth as though it were missing. She tried to rub it clean, but it was no use; it now felt tainted.
Sarain backed away from Winston with him still laughing at her. She let herself get lost in the crowd. Yes, maybe some of them were vil sangs, but others were people, and anyone or anything was better company than a fiendish violator such as Winston. The other demons wouldn’t care to toy with Sarain, they would just make a simple kill of her, but Winston’s games were far crueler.
She waited amongst the dancers. She could no longer see Winston, but she felt his eyes still on her. She waited for hours, always feeling watched, until the club let out for closing hour, just before dawn. She slipped out with the crowd, and quickly made haste away from the club. She lingered a few blocks away, and made sure she hadn’t been followed. It looked clear, but Sarain waited until sunrise before she headed back to her docile.
This was the worst defeat Sarain had ever faced. She had lost innocent bystanders before, having been too late to save them, but she had never let a demon get the upper hand on her. And never had one gone through such great lengths to defile her. It was like Winston wanted her to come after him.