Chapter 8

Micheal gets a little more than he bargains for

Sarah didn't remember making it to her room, falling into the bed, or crying herself to sleep; but she woke the next day finding herself jumbled in her bed. She ran her hands over her eyes, mascara staining the back of her hand, smearing the rest of the way across her face. She slowly pulled herself out of her bed, boots tangled in the silk sheets and tugged her barrettes out of her hair, her purple and black hair falling to frame her face. She slowly trudged to the mirror in the corner of the room and studied her frame. “You look like s**t,” she told herself, nodding matter-of-factly.

She slowly trudged over to the leather ottoman in from of a large vanity and sat down, pulling off her large boots and slowly peeled off her clothing. Once she was free from her dress from the previous night she made her way to the shower, bathed quickly, and made her way into the giant walk-in closet to pick out her daily attire. Alexander had made sure she had whatever her heart had desired as far as clothing went. She had been shopping and even had designers come in and make her own ideas and she had wall to wall boots, jackets, dresses, skirts, and the list went on. She pulled down a neon green skirt, black shirt, and stockings for the night's wear and swapped her boots out for a pair of orange and green platforms that wrapped around to her knees. She also slipped on some arm warmers and a collar, ran a brush through her hair and let it stay down, worried there might be a bruise from her encounter last night. She was too afraid to look.

She made her way back to the vanity and sat down in a high backed leather chair and started on her make-up, making sure it matched her outfit The back of her mind plagued her, thoughts of Micheal dancing in and out as he wondered if he even survived the night. Alexander's capricious nature left one's imagination free to roam and in her case it always strayed into darker waters, and with good reason. She ran her fingers over her throat, shuddering as she remembered Alex's hands, remembering how long ago she had begged for him to hold her, begged for his kisses and now she knew the pain he could supply behind them, the fear he could bring. She frowned, snapping herself back to reality and knew that she had to start her shift as she looked up at the clock. She didn't have long before the club would open. She stood and padded out of her room, down the hall and into the club that was the Second Sunrise, as if nothing had transpired the night before; as if Micheal had never existed.

Micheal woke up with a groan, grabbing his head. He had such a headache, worse than he had ever felt before. He slowly opened his eyes, as his vision adjusted slowly, realizing he was not in his room. He didn't know where he was and panic slowly started to set in. He made a move as to sit up and the room lurched around him, spinning and he fell back onto the bed, hands to the sides of his head as a groan escaped his lips. “Drink this,” a velvety voice spoke to him in the soft light, a glass appearing in the dimly light room.

Micheal blinked, looking up. “Huh?” He asked, his throat full of fire. He swallowed, razor blades dancing along his throat.

“I will not repeat myself again,” Answered the voice as blonde hair came into his view. “Drink slowly.” Hands reached down to help him sit up against the wooded head board as Alexander pushed his body back. “This will help you.” His velvety voice replied, watching the young man's every move.

Micheal slowly took the glass with a shaky hand, watching Alex, confusion playing on his face. “Where?” Alexander just shook his head, pointing to the glass, which by now Micheal realized was actually cut crystal. Micheal managed to put the cup to his lips and before he knew it the liquid was gone, the pain was gone, and he felt refreshed. He blinked, his vision clearing as his headache started to dissipate.

“What was that?” He asked, putting the crystal glass in his lap, holding it now with both hands as he surveyed his surroundings. He had no idea where he was, why he was here, or why his employer was sitting on the bed staring at him. He was very confused, and he fidgeted with the cup, fingers running over the many facets.

“A cure for a hangover,” Alexander simply replied, a smile flashing across his lips. “You came for a visit last night, passed out in my sitting room and instead of making Sarah carry you all the way back to your room I let you use the guest room in my quarters.” He stood and moved across the room, arms behind his back. “I take it you slept well?”

Micheal frowned for a moment, trying to remember what had happened. He had remembered Sarah, a fireplace, sitting in a large chair. He didn't remember having anything to drink, but then again he didn't remember much. “Yeah...I guess...” He muttered, still rolling the glass. “I...am going to be late for my shift.” He stated, louder than he meant to realizing he was going to catch hell from Bruce if he were late again. He was not looking forward to facing the big man again, especially if he were late.

A dark look flashed across the taller man's face as he turned to look at Micheal. He quickly caught himself and gave his most dashing smile. “Ah, you are to be in training to be one of the doormen, correct?” He asked, cocking his head, his hair spilling to one side. “I have to also head to the floor shortly. I have a suit your size, and a shower you may use in the room over there,” his long fingers pointed to the corner of the room. “You may use the facilities then dress and you will wait for me.” The last bit was an order but the way he smiled made sure it was portrayed as such.

Micheal swallowed hard and nodded, slowly crawling out of bed. He looked down, staring at his clothing. He realized he was no longer in the suit he was in the night before but in what looked to be a dressing gown like one would see in an old movie. He frowned and shook his head, glad when he could be back to his own room. He made it into the aforementioned bathroom, found the light switch and his breath caught in his throat. If he thought his bathroom was nice this one was extravagant, and Alexander had said this was a guest bathroom?

A gold footed tub stood in one corner large enough to hold four people without crowding, a stand-alone shower was in the corner adjacent, which is where Micheal headed, towels on a silver rack. The towels were of an Egyptian cotton and you could tell with the naked eye how soft they were, and the embellishment on the towels alone of the club crest and Alex's house seal cost easily a hundred dollars each, his mind told him. He shrugged out of the odd shift and stepped into the shower, turning the handle and felt water press on him from not one side but six, as jets were built in all angles of the shower to massage the body. Steam billowed around him as he adjusted the heat, not used to water being instantly hot from the tap and he closed his eyes, grabbing the supplied soap and shampoo provided for him.

After he indulged himself long enough in the hot water, his skin red and raw from the scalding assault, Micheal stepped out onto the mat, grabbed a towel and dried off. He wrapped the towel around his waist and headed for the room to find the clothing that had been promised to be provided. Once again his eyes were violated by the lighting change from one room to the next and he was temporarily blinded as he had to wait for his vision to clear. Once he could see he proceeded into the room, seeing something he did not expect laid out on the bed for him; instead of a suit there were leather pants and what appeared to be belts of some sort, and a collar. He frowned, walking over to the bed, and cocked his head, staring at the odd assortment of what appeared to be mistaken for clothing. “Like what you see?” Came a voice from behind him.

Micheal didn't have to turn to know who it was. He blinked, not even bothering to turn. “Where are my clothes?” He asked, not even mildly amused.

A velvety laugh danced through the room. “Right in front of you. I know the light in here is dim, but you cannot be that blind.”

“I...cannot wear this.” He replied, aghast at the very thought.

Alexander smiled, “It is not up for debate.” He moved forward. “I can help you with the upper part if you would like.” He hefted the belted vest up, looking at Micheal. “I promise you it will fit.”

Something in the way Alex watched him unnerved him and Micheal shifted on his feet. “Why...is my suit not fit to be worn?” He asked, dropping his eyes, unable to meet that of the taller man in front of him.

“Well...because I have decided you will wear this tonight.” Was the simple reply. “And what I want goes.” He stated, as he slipped the belts over Micheal's chest and moved around behind him, before he had a chance to disagree. Micheal could hear the buckles being cinched and could feel the cold metal being pressed against his skin. He hissed, feeling a slight burn of cold metal. “There, perfect if I do say so myself.” Alexander replied, grabbing the collar and slipping it into place, fastener sliding home and long fingers withdrawn with a whisper. “Put on the pants while I find you some boots.”

Alexander turned and walked down the hallway, already dressed in leather riding pants and a nice shirt that looked like it had come off a pirate long ago, ruffles and all. He was dressed in all black from boots to shirt, his blonde hair and pale skin a stark contrast. Micheal shook his head, coming out of his confusion and grabbed the pants and noticed there was no underwear. He frowned, sighed and slipped into the pants, having to make sure to tuck himself fully into the pants, struggling to get them zipped and buttoned, the pants tight from hip to ankle. He sat on the bed, watching the hallway as Alexander soon popped back in, boots in his hands.

“Very nice,” He stated, eyes scanning the young man with a smile. “Here.” He handed the boots and some short socks and leaned against the wall, happy with his handy work. Micheal leaned down, slipping the boots on, sliding them over his calves and watched as they stopped right below his knees. He felt like he was supposed to be on display on a runway or in a cage for women to leer at. “Come.” He looked up in time to see Alexander disappearing out of the room and down the hall and stood up, hurrying after him, trying to figure out why in the hell his boots had heels, even if they were short ones.

They walked in silence down the long hallway, out of Alexander's private quarters, up the flight of stairs and into the noise that was the club. Micheal pulled at his vest of belts, only to be chided by Alex in a laughing, teasing manner. “Stop now, or you will mess up my handy work and I will have to make them even tighter.” He warned, as they neared the worker's entrance. “You will stay towards the back, near me.” Alex's voice told him, commanding him. “You are now my personal guard as I work the stage and the booth. Bruce does good with the door and your darling little Sarah is a distraction from the door for you anyway.” He snapped before they made it onto the floor. He turned, locking eyes with Micheal.

“You will report only to me, do you understand me?” Alexander's voice was deep and commanding, unlike anything Micheal had ever heard before and even if he had wanted to he couldn't have denied him.

“Yes.” He replied, a simple nod. “I will stay near the booth, your personal guard. I will not stray.” He had no idea why he was repeating this. These were not his words.

“Good.” Alexander smiled again, his voice and smile back to normal like nothing had transpired and Micheal shuddered, a cold chill down his spine. Then together they both made their way onto the floor and into the throng of bodies and the onslaught of noise.

Bruce watched as Sarah worked the stage, laughing as she danced and talked, moving among the patrons and workers alike. He did not see her shadow following her and noticed he had not appeared for his shift either. Sarah had made no mention of it so Bruce did not bother her about it. Sometimes people didn't last long, survival was not guaranteed once you stepped foot past the true threshold. Sarah looked over at the ice blue eyed doorman and flashed a smile before disappearing deeper into the crowd, lime green skirt glowing in the dancing lights as she bounced to the beat.

Squeals, giggles, whispers, and laughter rang out as the all knowing fog began to roll across the stage and Sarah, Bruce, the workers and the guests all stopped and turned, knowing what was coming. Alexander stepped out in all his splendor, his black clothing a stark contrast against his pale skin and blonde hair, the fog making his appear like a ghost; behind him was another figure and Sarah gasped stumbling back slightly as if seeing a ghost, for Micheal stood on stage with the owner as he flaunted about.

“Welcome to the Second Sunrise,” came Alexander's velvety voice across the stage, the fog rolling around him, almost obscuring Micheal from view, and down into the crowd. “I hope you all enjoy your stay and find your visit to be very exciting and vexing.” He gave a small bow to the crowd and turned, gave a small nod to his newest guard who turned quickly on his heels and followed him off the stage, like a lost little puppy.

Alexander headed for the tables at the back of the club, both men and women fawning over him as he made his way through the crowd. Micheal followed, close at Alex's back, keeping a close eye on everyone as they made their way through. Alexander chuckled, knowing that his guardian was fulfilling his role but he also knew that there was still a long way to go. They finally made it to his private booth and Alex slid into his seat leaning back against the wall, legs spread out against the leather bench seat. He leaned his head against the back wall, hair fanning out and chuckled as he surveyed the crowd. He wanted some company tonight, a hunger needed satisfied that had yet to be met and he was looking for the perfect specimen.

Dancing bodies, sweat, perfume, alcohol, smoke, and sex permeated the club and bar. Sarah pushed her way through the horde trying to make her way to the back, knowing she would be met with the smug smile of Alexander. What she saw instead made her freeze in her steps. Micheal turned his cold gaze to her, then frowned just a little, looked back at his charge, then back to the dance floor. Sarah could see that Alexander's hold had already started and she gasped before she could stop herself and heard his cold laugh. “Hello, my pet,” came his velvet call. “Come for a chat?” He asked, not even looking up.

“No,” She snapped, turned on her heels and stormed off, knowing she would have to catch Micheal again. She refused to give up on her new friend, especially since she felt at fault for him being here. She had invited him after all.

Alexander slowly looked up. “Fetch.” He stated, pointing at a girl dancing on the floor. “I think I want that one.”

Micheal frowned for a moment then like a good worker moved onto the floor and flashed a quick smile to the girl. She turned quickly, staring at the belts, wet chest, collar, and licked her lips. “Hey there,” She grinned. “Wanna have some fun?” Her hair was a light purplish-silver color, pulled into a high top pony tail and she had matching lip stick. She ran her fingers along his chest as he reached up and grabbed her wrist and shook his head, a smile playing across his face, blue eyes playful.

“Come,” He whispered, his voice a low growl. He pulled her by the wrist, not giving her a chance to argue. She was dressed in a very short mini skirt that left very little to the imagination, especially as she tried to keep up. She giggled, putting her other hand against his back, tracing the belts and buckles that ran behind him. He suppressed a shudder as he moved, eyes on the table and the man that sat behind it. When they reached their destination, Micheal stopped moving and the girl giggled, again leaning fully up against him, trailing her fingernails along his bare skin.

Alexander looked up and flashed a smile and in one fluid motion stood, walking over to the pair. He ran his fingers through her hair and leaned down, taking a deep breath. “Perfect,” he whispered, his eyes fluttering.

The girl looked up, a smile playing on her face as she was still pressed up against Micheal. “Bring her.” Alexander commanded and walked off. Micheal smiled at the girl and offered his arm and she took it and they followed the tall blonde through the crowd and down the hall.

Before long they all stood in Alexander's sitting room, the fireplace roaring. The girl's eyes were wide as she looked around. Micheal watched as Alex sat down on the giant black couch in front of the fireplace and looked at the girl. “What's your name?” he asked, his voice soft and warm.

She blinked, holding onto Micheal, body pressed against his, hands wrapped into the belts on his chest. “Monica,” She answered softly.

“Well, Monica, you should be honored to be welcomed into my personal chambers.” Alexander extended his arms towards her and Micheal slowly peeled her off of him and lead her over to the couch. “You are dismissed. Return to your rooms until tomorrow when I fetch you.” Alex commanded him, before turning his attention back to the girl, who he was now pulling onto the couch and practically into his lap with soft whispers, hands running through her hair.

Monica looked up at him, her eyes going wide then blank as she smiled a wide smile. She leaned against him, hand against his black shirt and giggled. Alexander's chuckle melded with her giggle as he pulled her against him as the Micheal nodded and made his way across the room and exited, closing the door behind him. He didn't see the hungry gaze Alexander passed over Monica as she lay against him, which was for the best.

As he closed the door behind him, pulse quickening and made it to the room Alex had prepared for him. He knew not to go to the room back in the main area was off limits. He wanted his things, his clothes, and most of all his stuffed wolf. He would have to request to have his effects brought back to him. He somehow managed to slip out of the gear that had been thrust upon him. He showered quickly and found that a meal had been set on the table in the corner. He sighed and sat down, towel around his waist and ate, realizing how hungry he really was. Once he finished his meal he dressed in an over-sized t-shirt and shorts he found in a drawer of the dresser and crawled into the massive bed, sleep overtaking him quickly, for which he was thankful.

Author's Note

rough draft, ignore grammar issues.