The Vampire Lord's Feisty Stripper

ROMAN'S POV

The room is soaked in shadows, except for the flicker of candlelight dancing along the stone walls. Ten thrones circle the crimson-draped table, each one occupied by the most powerful vampire in our world. And me? I sit at the head.

The Council Chamber is warded, and sacred. The only voices allowed here are ours, those strong enough to matter.

Damien lounges to my right, always just close enough to be useful, never close enough to trust. His mouth curls in that half-smirk he wears like armor. I don’t look at him.

“We’re not here to waste time,” I begin, my voice cutting through the murmurs like a blade. “Rumors have surfaced again. A human girl. Her blood affects our kind, enhancing younger vampires' powers.”

Kael huffs from across the table, all lazy limbs and golden curls. “Come on now, Roman. Power surges from human blood? That sounds like something some fledgling made up to impress a girl.”

"You do realize bored vamps make shit up every week for attention, right? ” Damien asks.

A few more chuckles scatter around the room. Predictable. They wouldn't just take my word for it, even I refused to believe the information at first.

“I knew you'd say that,” I say coolly, tapping a finger against the table. “That’s why I had it verified.”

The door creaks open. Heavy boots click against the stone as Xavier steps into the room, shoulders squared, eyes low in deference. He’s one of my most trusted guards. A man who doesn't rattle easily.

“Tell them what you told me,” I order.

Xavier nods once, eyes sweeping over the room. “I went to the club where she works.”

Kael’s brow lifts. “Club?”

“A strip club,” Xavier confirms.

Kael’s grin flashes, sharp and amused. “I take it back. She sounds deeply important to the cause. We should probably protect her.”

The others laugh again, but I don’t.

“Focus,” I say, steel laced under my tone. “Go on.”

Xavier straightens. “I staged an accident, broke a glass. She cut her hand picking it up. Just a drop hit my skin and—” He pauses, shakes his head slightly, like the memory alone still does something to him. “It was like a charge. Not just strength or clarity. My senses spiked like I'd been juiced with adrenaline and fire. It was like every part of me clicked on.”

The room shifts, interest sharpening. But predictably, doubt rises too. One glance around confirms that everyone is still skeptical.

“Maybe she’s just hot,” one of the older ones mutters. “Humans can be... distracting. Could’ve just been the bloodlust talking. ”

“I thought so too,” Xavier says. “Until I tried to compel her.”

That gets their attention.

“Tried twice,” he says, louder now. “ Nothing. No blink, no submission. She looked me dead in the eye and asked if I needed medical help.”

That shuts them up.

I lean back, steepling my fingers. “There it is.”

Damien looks around, fingers laced, there's an unsettling look on his face now that I take note of. “That... changes things.”

“Not really,” I say.

He turns toward me. “You don’t think it’s worth exploring? Studying? If she’s immune, if her blood gives power, there might be something to learn there. Replicate or maybe even control.”

“No,” I answer. “We’re already barely containing the shitstorm of new fledglings breaking protocol every other week. The last thing we need is some enhanced stripper with the power to make them worse.”

Damien’s jaw flexes. He hates being dismissed. But I don’t give a damn.

“She’s a threat,” I say clearly. “And threats get handled. Fast.”

No one speaks.

“Any objections?” I ask. They know better.

Xavier steps forward. “I’ll take care of it. Quietly.”

I shake my head once. “No. I’ll handle her myself.”

Xavier blinks, surprised. This isn't how I usually operate. With matters like this, I always trust Xavier to take care of them perfectly.

Damien, more theatrically, arches a brow.

“Really?” he says. “Isn’t that a bit... beneath you?”

“If I want something like this done right,” I reply, “I do it myself.”

Damien’s smile is slow and cutting. “Then I’ll tag along, you know. For backup.”

I glance at him. “I doubt I’ll need help taking care of a mere human girl. But if you want to watch, I won’t stop you.”

He grins, but there’s no humor in it. Neither of us trusts the other. But for now, we’re allies. For now.

Kael asks if that's really the solution, that he thinks we should take more time to think about this before doing something so extreme. The fool has a soft spot for humans, and I've warned him repeatedly it'll be the death of him one day.

“She’s human,” I continue. “A bloody stripper, for that matter. Disposable. We find her. We end her, quietly. Before this becomes a bigger problem.”

Kael doesn't speak. But he doesn't need to.

Everyone else's silence is agreement.

And my will is law.

“When do you want to handle it?” Damien asks, arms folded loosely over his chest like he’s trying to seem relaxed. He isn’t.

I glance at the clock mounted on the far wall. “Tonight,” I say flatly. “No point in waiting. It should take less than five minutes to deal with her, and then I can focus on things that actually matter.”

He nods, but there’s something behind his eyes. A flicker of disagreement he doesn’t voice. Smart of him.

I shift my gaze to Xavier. “The name of the club?”

“Velvet Halo,” he replies without hesitation. “Downtown.”

Kael, who’s been too quiet so far, something he's incapable of, lifts a brow. “ Never been, but I hear it's where morals and wallets go to die, but that the dancers more than make up for it." He grins to himself like that was clever.

I don’t smile. “That’ll be all.” I push my chair back with a soft scrape against the marble floor. The room shifts, the Council members standing, murmuring their farewells as they start toward the exit.

Xavier’s halfway to the door when a thought clicks into place.

“Wait.” My voice cuts through the quiet like a blade.

He halts immediately, turns back. “Yes?”

“What’s the girl’s name?”

He reaches into his coat pocket, retrieves a folded slip of paper. “Her actual name is Eleanor Sterling,” he says. “But at the club, she goes by Scarlet Sin.”

Scarlet Sin. I nearly roll my eyes at the absurd irony of it.

“She’s hard to miss,” Xavier adds. “Red hair. Blue eyes. Real striking. They'll announce her before she gets on stage.”

I nod slowly, turning the names over in my mind. Eleanor Sterling...Scarlet Sin.

Doesn’t matter what she calls herself.

Tonight, she dies.