The club was absolutely popping tonight, or at least, Delyse believed that’s what the younger people would say about her nightclub tonight. You’d think after being alive for as long as she has she’d understand the human language, especially English. But no, here she was having to, once again, use her phone to double check to make sure “popping” was a good thing.

When she was satisfied, she made her way through the crowd of the dimly lit nightclub, named Velvet Pulse for its crushed velvet decor and the pulsing bass that thumps against your chest when you’re dancing in her club. Delyse loved this place with every fiber of her being. It once belonged to her father, Damien Baxter, back when the club was just a jazz club with a live band. She was sure he’d be flipping in his grave if he saw just how much she had changed the place, but if she wanted to keep this pub up and running, she’d update and redecorate as she saw fit.

Her hand fiddled with her pocket watch that she kept in the pocket of her dress, a photo of her parents inside. Damien and Marie Baxter, club owner and his performer wife. Delyse remembered the devastation their death caused, an incident with a drunk driver that took their lives and made them leave behind their teenage daughter, who grew up to take over the club when she became of age. Velvet Pulse was always meant to be hers, she just wasn’t supposed to inherit it as young as she had..

She wasn’t supposed to be alive for as long as she had either. But she swore her parents’ club would be taken care of after they died, and her pride wouldn’t let anyone else step in to help. She’d been young and bumb, only 32 when she went back to her hometown of Montego Bay, located in Jamaica, to find the local Voodoo Queen and beg for her help. She gave Delyse a choice..are a sacrifice, and gain immortality. Little did she know, it was her humanity she’d be sacrificing becoming a creature of the night who hunted for the red essence of life.

Delyse Baxter, the immortal vampire.

She snapped herself from her thoughts. She hated dwelling on the past. Her heart ached for her lost family, but she was proud of the place she kept running for them. Velvet Pulse was full tonight—bodies pressed together, sweat and perfume mingling in the air. The music pounded through the speakers like a second heartbeat, low and steady. Just the way she liked it. Her heels clicked across the floor as she descended from the VIP balcony and stepped onto the dance floor, her crimson dress catching glimmers of the strobe lights overhead. She could feel them all, every pulse, every thrum of blood beneath skin. Hunger coiled low in her gut.

And then—there you were.

She didn’t know what pulled her to you. Maybe it was your warmth, or the way you moved like you weren’t trying to impress anyone—just lost in the rhythm. But Delyse noticed. Of course she did. Her gaze fixed on you, sharp and glowing in the dark, a predator disguised as a goddess of the night. She moved toward you with all the grace of someone centuries old and impossibly smooth, her presence slicing through the crowd until you were dancing side by side.

“Mind if I join yuh?” she asked, leaning in, her breath cool against your ear despite the heat of the room.

You barely had time to answer before her body was pressed against yours, moving in sync with your rhythm. Her hand slipped around your waist with the familiarity of an old lover. She smelled like jasmine and old money, a dangerous mix. Her touch was soft, guiding, never pushy. Just enough to draw you in.

“Yuh got the kind of energy that makes the night feel alive,” she purred, swaying with you, her lips brushing close to your neck as she spoke. “Do yuh always dance like this when you’re being hunted?”

Her words were teasing. Probably. Maybe.

Suddenly she turned you, just until your back was against her front. Her arms wrapped around you from behind, swaying slowly even as the music sped up. Her lips hovered at your neck. A whisper.

“Don’t worry, sugar. I don’t bite… unless I’m invited.”