Hello all! I am attempting my first fully fledged M rated fic, starring Count Vladislaus Dracula and my OC, Lauren DiCamillo. Please read and review! It means more than you know to me!!
Disclaimer: Don't own Dracula yet, but I'm working on it. I DO own Lauren DiCamillo and any family members, friends, etc, of hers.
The year is 2009, the city, L.A. Lauren DiCamillo has one wish, to be a star. Performing is what she loves, and she wants the best of it. But the singer has a secret, a family secret that is above mortals and reaches a world with Immortals and the Supernatural, evil and good. Lauren is an active member and fighter in the time-old war between the two opposing forces of Good and Evil. The infamous Count Dracula has been traveling around America, seeking excitement, and though he doesn't know it, a companion. He sets his sights on the magical singer, and is determined to have her.
Despising his attempts of seduction, Lauren refuses to surrender to him and be his Bride, but the Vampire King never takes no for an answer. Through the trials of temptation, seduction, and rejection, can Dracula step into the light and not just lust, but love? Furthermore, can Lauren love him in return? Despite their differences, can they see their similarities? Or will their positions on opposite sides of the board keep them apart and from ever discovering true happiness?
An Immortal Song Chapter 1:
A First Sight and a Strange Feeling
The day had darkened and night rose as Lauren DiCamillo hustled down an alleyway and walked up the back steps to the club where she would be performing that night.
The date was June 13, 2009 and Lauren was celebrating her twenty-fifth birthday. Her gift to herself would be stunning her audience with her talent. Or so she hoped.
As she opened the door to the dressing rooms, sounds of all kinds erupted from within and loud voices could be heard.
"Hey Bartender! Get me a beer!"
"I win the bet! HA!"
"Nuh uh! That's bullshit!"
"Ahhh…That hit the spot."
"Damn, you're gettin' stoned!"
She shook her head. Cloud Nine was not the cleanest club in L.A., but until she could work herself up to the top, it would have to do until she could get in to V.I.P. clubs. That was her lifelong dream-to be there at the top with everyone envying her. Wanting her. Looking up to her. Being well known for her talents on the stage, not for being an alcoholic or drug addict like some other celebs out there in the world today.
"Yo Lauren! You're gonna be on in an hour. Why aren't you getting' ready yet?" Harley, Cloud Nine's manager shouted. God she hated him. That sick, greedy bastard who harassed every female that breathed within a five-mile radius of him. Cloud Nine was poorly named. A better name would be Cloud Where Pimps and Whores Like to Gather Because the Manager Is the King of All of Them would be more appropriate for the place.
"I just got here Harley. I was just on my way to do that."
"That so? Do you need any help getting' yourself into your outfit?" he asked suggestively, showing some of his yellow teeth as he smirked at her.
"No. I can manage just fine without you," Lauren hissed between her teeth, her fists clenching at her sides. How she would love to just put that pervert in his place! But the use of his club helped pay her bills, so she had to bite her tongue. One day, she'd get even with him for all of his harassment. Bright side, having to put up with Harley had definitely done wonders on her anger management. She had much more self-control then she had ever had thanks to his constant need to say something suggestive to her every time he saw her.
Harley scowled with disappointment, but turned his attention to the D.J. that called his name. Seeing her opportunity to escape, Lauren ran the rest of the way to her dressing room, and slammed the door behind her before locking it with the lock she bought for it. Harley didn't believe in wasting money on locks on the inside of his club, so she had gone to a Home Depot to buy one for her door.
Lauren's dressing room was small. It was four feet across and it was only about three feet from each wall. It had one mirror on the wall that had a small crack in it at the bottom, two wooden stools, a wardrobe cabinet, and one table with a drawer. There were also three hooks hanging from the wall for hangers. It wasn't much, but for now, it was her only connection to fame.
She opened her purse and set all of the cosmetics she would need on the table- her black Mac eyeliner, a container of pink-orange blush, her favorite perfume-Japanese Cherry Blossom, Juicy lip gloss, chap stick to mix with the lip gloss, and of course a much needed cosmetic for any performer, deodorant.
The Stardom Effects, as she called them, were organized on the table, and Lauren then proceeded to open up the wardrobe cabinet and take out tonight's performance outfit.
She grimaced. It was scandalous, gorgeous, but scandalous. The outfit was in two pieces. The top was low-cut to show a generous amount of her cleavage, and had ripped sleeves to make it look like a tank top. It also ended just at her ribs so her stomach showed, which was toned thanks to years of dance, and her other…. hobby. The skirt's length ended just below her ankle, but on the right hand side, there was a wide cut up the skirt that ran up her leg until just below her hip. At least it was her favorite color, a beautiful shade of purple, plum.
The outfit might not be as bad as some other outfits she had seen performers wear. In fact, compared to what she had seen celebrities like Paris Hilton or Britney Spears wear, it was tame! But then again, she hated that duo, and desperately did not want to be like them. She hoped her outfit wasn't slutty to the point where her audience was paying more attention to the cleavage showing, rather than her act. One bitter thought crossed her mind as she tied black scarves to her wrists for bracelets. "If any men are 'tempted' by my appearance, then it's what they deserve. Most of the men today don't deserve to achieve what they want. My father is proof of that."
After slipping it on, she went back to the cabinet to find the matching shoes. They were a pair of black heels that laced up criss-crossing around her ankle. She loved those shoes. They were like a cross between Greek and Egyptian sandals.
They actually made her size eight and a half to nine-sized feet look presentable and almost sexy for once. Unlike most women, she didn't care too much about her appearance as long as she was comfortable, and was decent, but not entirely prudish. The only thing that she really hated about her looks was her feet. She was perfectly content with all of her other body parts, just not her feet.
"Oh well," she thought. "My duck feet were given to me for a reason, and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm stuck with 'em and that's that."
She twirled around in the mirror and sighed. As revealing as the outfit was, it looked pretty good on her, and was a good match to the song she would be singing, When You're Good to Mama from Chicago. Lauren had probably watched the scene where Queen Latifah sang that in the movie a hundred times to truly get a feel on how she portrayed it. The number of times she had practiced in her apartment was even more.
Lauren took out her cell phone and looked at the time, 7:54pm. She had a little more than half an hour to put her makeup on and run through her routine one more time. She had better get crackin'.
Around this time, a group of aristocrats were arriving at Cloud Nine in the interest of finding some 'fresh meat,' so to speak. Most of them had all been before, but a rather bored and excitement-seeking count had been urged to come as well. For what better prey was there to seek then some mortals with the added bonus of alcohol or drug in their veins?
"Really Count, you wouldn't believe how the mortals plague this place every night. It's so deliciously wonderful and oh so easy it's almost not fair!" an American vampire exclaimed with bloodthirsty excitement to the King over all things Undead, Count Vladislaus Draguila.
"Is that so?" he answered, half heartedly interested.
He had taken a vacation if you will, from his homeland due to the lack of excitement there. He fed, bedded the occasional woman, scared the living soul out of every mortal in sight, and one mortal or two would attempt to kill him every so often. This was the case day in, day out with no change of pace, period. So when a few of his fellow vampires suggested a visit to America in the interests of visiting some of its biggest cities, he had immediately agreed. But so far, he wasn't very impressed.
"The best part is that with so many gathering thanks to some new performers, it makes all the more choices to choose from, depending on your particular taste," that very same vampire added with a hungry grin.
Dracula held back an eye roll. True, all a mortal's real interest to him was to feed, but that didn't mean he had to refer to them as grocery products.
"Frankly Richard, I am unimpressed with America. The cities are huge and many in number, but I fail to see why America is so great," Dracula said. He was semi-looking forward to going to this club. He was beginning to feel the urge to feed, and was in no mood to force it back. He was looking forward to feeding because whatever mortal became his meal tonight would most likely have alcohol in their system. Alcohol was always such a delicious spice to add for a more satisfactory flavor.
"Something that might interest you Count, is that in every major American city, like Los Angeles, there are demon hunters to stop us from ruling the mortal government or entertainment industry," Alan Barlow, a vampire from New Orleans remarked.
Dracula grinned. He hadn't dealt with any real threatening demon hunter in centuries!
"Any worthy of being called a demon hunter?" he asked.
"There's been a few going in and out of L.A., but now the main hunters are the DiCamillo family, and they're witches," Ian, a native L.A. vampire replied. "The mother, Kathleen DiCamillo, was quite the hunter, but she was killed a few years ago. Now her children run the vanquishes."
"Are they any good?"
"Her younger daughter isn't that bad, not nearly as powerful as her mother, and her oldest, a son, moved to Las Vegas to help reinforce the demon hunters there."
"And the other daughter?" Dracula inquired.
"She isn't dealt with much in the field, word has it she doesn't have any powers," Ian said with a grin. "Not much of a threat to us."
"Pity," Dracula replied remorsefully. "I could so do with a worthy challenge."
The vampires found seats in the back. That way, they could get a good view of all possible prey.
Lauren eyed her clock again. She had three minutes, more or less. She hastily applied some last-minute lip-gloss and stood back to look at herself in the mirror. Not bad. Her long, thick dirty blonde hair was pulled high in a ponytail atop her head, her eyes were lined in a shadow of black giving her blue-green eyes a mysterious affect, her lips were a soft, pale pink, she had on black, dangling teardrop ear rings with a matching choker. She actually looked beautiful.
Almost like her mother. At this thought, Lauren felt wave of sadness wash over her. "I wish you were here Mom. I need you to convince me that my dream isn't a foolish fantasy that every other girl in America dreams of."
"Yo Lauren! It's show time!" Harley shouted as he pounded on her door. "Get out here!"
"Coming!" she shouted back and stuffed all of her stuff in the back corner. Lauren rushed out and ran to the entrance of the stage. Her heart beating rapidly from excitement and her stomach flipping form anticipation. No matter what, this is what she loved to do- perform on stage.
"And now! Ladies and gents! I give you a talented woman who's bringin' back the popular musical, Chicago for y'all. The beautiful, talented, stunning-"
Lauren had to blush. Sam Collins, the announcer, was a flatterer through and through.
"-Miss Lauren DiCamillo!"
Every vampire's ears perked in alert. "DiCamillo?" went through each and every last one of their minds.
The lights went on, all eyes were on her. She casually strode forward and spoke.
"Ask any of the chickies in my pen. They'll tell you I'm the biggest mother- hen. I love them all and all of them love me. Because the system works the system called reciprocity!" Lauren let the last word linger on her tongue and took a deep breath to sing as the beat started to get fast.
"Got a little motto. Always sees me through. When you're good to Mama, Mama's good to you!"
Lauren let her hips sway as she paraded down the stage. A few men began to whistle. The vampires were all muttering amongst themselves.
"I know who I'd like to sink my fangs in tonight!"
"A DiCamillo of all people! Looks like we'll be eliminating a pest tonight boys!"
Dracula did not join in on their chuckling. That was one of the DiCamillos? Perhaps he would be having some much-needed fun tonight.
"There's a lot of favors, I'm prepared to do. You do one for Mama," Lauren pointed a finger at the audience.
"She'll do one for you!" Lauren took a dramatic step to the side and folded her hands above her head, letting the scarves fall suggestively down her body.
She let her arms fall gracefully and continued to step lightly down the stage, feeling a pair of strong, powerful eyes watching her every movement.
"They say that life is tit for tat, and that's the way I live! So I deserve a lot of tat, for what I've got to give!" She let her right leg lift slightly so the slit there gave a peak of her leg.
"Don't you know that this hand," she waved her right hand, letting the scarf dance.
"Washes that one too," she did the same to that hand.
"When you're good to Mama, Mama's good to you!" She twirled to the left, letter the scarves fly and she became a blur of dark purple.
"If you want my gravy, pepper my ragout, spice it up for Mama, she'll get hot for you!" she dipped her hips, and a sly smirk marked her flushed face.
"When they pass that basket, folks contribute to, you put in for Mama, she'll put out for you!" Lauren arched her back a little and let her hands gently sway from side to side.
"The folks that stop the ladder, are the ones the world adores. So boost me up my ladder kid, and I'll boost you up yours! Let's all stroke together," the singer slowly ran her hands up her upper thighs, to her ribs and stopped at her shoulders.
"Like the Princeton Crew, when you're strokin' Mama, Mama's strokin' you!" She put her left hand on her hip, and slid her right index finger down to her hip, placing her weight on her left leg.
"So what's the one conclusion I can bring this number to?" Lauren slowed down a bit to make the last part of her number more dramatic.
"When you're good to Mama, Mama's….good…. to YOU!!!" She spun down the stage letting the last note longer before making a sudden stop and posing. She faced the audience sideways, her hand on her hip, her right knee bent, threw back her head to shout the last part of the song with all of her remaining energy.
The lights went out. But the vampires could still see the heaving singer. Dracula kept his eyes on her like cat does a mouse. The lights came back and Lauren was at the top of the stage and graced the audience with a perfectly executed ballet bow. She raised her arms to the air, her right leg took a mighty step behind her left, toe pointed and bowed gracefully.
The audience went wild. Men howled and whistled, and women clapped. Lauren breathlessly strode off the stage and went to make her way back to her dressing room. A few of the upcoming performers smiled and congratulated her on her way down.
"That was awesome Lauren!"
"Thank you," Lauren answered and continued to make her way to her dreesing, and felt as if she was on air.
Before she made it to the door, Harley met her.
"That was spectacular L! You knocked 'em dead!" He went to kiss her but she ducked.
"Thanks, but don't call me L. And don't ever try to kiss me!"
Harley shrugged. "Whatever, your loss. I'll send you your money tomorrow."
"You better," Lauren warned. Her eyes changed from happiness to anger.
Harley put his hands up in surrender. "Don't worry. I won't 'forget' to pay you again. Promise."
"Good," Lauren nodded and continued into her dressing room. She changed form her Grecian-like outfit, placed it back in the wardrobe cabinet and put on a pair of jeans, gray and pink slip on shoes, an all black t-shirt, and a gray trench coat. She grabbed her purse and stepped out into the cool night air of L.A. Making her way to where she parked her silver Vespa, she put the key in the ignition, started the engine up, and rode to her apartment.
As she rode, she couldn't help but think of who had been watching her so intensely. There had been a full house, so it could have been anyone and she was used to being on stage with everyone watching her, but something, something bothered her about who ever had been staring at her.
Outside in the parking lot, Dracula and the other vampires were arguing over who got to feed from Lauren DiCamillo.
"She lives in L.A., I'm from L.A., therefore, she is mine," Ian hissed.
"So what! I brought her and her family up first, I get to bite her!" Alan growled.
"ENOUGH!" Dracula snarled. "I am the Lord over all of you. I receive first choice! Lauren DiCamillo is mine! If any of you jeopardize that, I will rip you to shreds, and throw your remains to the sun!"
All of the vampires stopped and nodded angrily in submission. Damned Dracula. He always got the best. They spread out to find other prey, and Dracula went to track down Miss DiCamillo. Her scent came strongly from the back, so he would start there.
"I cannot wait for us to meet, Miss DiCamillo," Dracula thought with a grin. If she was as good in bed as her dancing suggested, then he was in for a very productive night. Not to mention how delicious her witch's blood should taste. Perhaps coming to America was not a complete waste of time after all.
Uh-oh..Dracula wants to suck Lauren's blood...Will he? The Vampire and the Singer meet next chapter!
The song was When You're Good to Mama from Chicago, incase you didn't guess. Chicago RULES!
Feedback is immensely appreciated. -Puss in Boots face from Shrek 2 and 3-