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“You’re getting cocky, Slayer. Makes you sloppy.”
That voice taunted her with a dainty, higher pitch than normal. Mocking her.
Kara hissed, anger and embarrassment both flushing hot against her skin as the pain of her fall reverberated through her body. The impact had almost knocked the wind out of her; left her vulnerable.
A head curtained by bleach-blonde hair popped up into view, hovering upside down over hers. “Good thing I don’t want you dead. Yet, anyway.”
“Shut. Up.” Despite the pain of her bad landing after Laurel had swept her legs out from under her, leaping back up to her feet came easy after years of practice - even if not fast enough to spare her pride. She rolled her eyes at the other woman, though, refusing to let any hint of embarrassment show. “You keep threatening me that one day you’re going to kill me, but in two years, the desire for it still hasn’t struck? You’re all talk.”
Laurel shrugged and smiled; a mouthful of fangs. “What can I say, Slayer? You’re fun. Much more so than any other Slayer or random hunter I’ve had the pleasure of crossing.” Her posture was casual, amiable, almost indifferent towards Kara. Not a hint of an attack coming.
But Kara was used to the affable demeanor of the Siren, and she was ready when Laurel abruptly lunged at her, aiming for a blow at Kara’s throat. She flipped over the vampire, both feet kicking Laurel between the shoulder blades. In a move that had taken her years of practice to accomplish, she used the momentum of that kick to flip again, landing a few feet away in a crouch.
Laurel stumbled forward and whirled, hissing. Eyes blood red and hungry. “Cute, little Slayer. That’s what I like about you. You’re playful. You’re like me.”
“I’m nothing like you.”
“In two years, you still haven’t staked me. You haven’t even brandished your trusty weapon yet this time around.” Laurel stood there with a shit-eating grin on her face, tongue running over her fangs. And then she was gone.
Kara tensed and quickly circled around, ready to strike at any rush attack. But there was no sign of the Siren. She kept circling where she stood, pulling at the stake she had waited too long to go for.
It was a dance between her and the Siren - a.k.a. Dinah Laurel Lance, a.k.a. one of the most notorious and infamous vampires that had come to National City looking for its chosen slayer. One that had grown a little too comfortable, a little too routine. She knew she was sloppy, but it wasn’t cockiness that put her off her game when it came to Laurel.
Not that anyone - especially the Siren herself - could ever know the truth.
“Ah, there it is,” that familiar voice whispered. Only now it was lower, breathier, and right in Kara’s ear. Arms ensnared her in a vice-like grip and that toothy grin could be felt against the back of her neck. “Had to go and ruin our girly fun with some good ol’ phallic symbolism, hhm? I can think of better phallic items to bring into play between us, Slayer.”
“How about you take your phallic item and blow it, so I don’t have to listen to your lame attempts at flirting anymore?” Kara snapped back and stomped her booted foot down on Laurel’s; and to think, Alex had told her not to where the cute, studded booties with the two inch heels tonight.
A hissed curse through gritted teeth brushed against her ear in a sharp exhale. The arms around her loosened enough for her to elbow Laurel hard enough in the ribs that she let go completely.
Kara spun, stake up, ready. Or so she thought. She spun right into a backhand, the momentum of the blow and her own body sending her spiraling to the ground. This time the wind was knocked out of her; a harsh and heavy rush of air that left her lungs burning. Vision spinning, she tried to roll onto her stomach in order to push herself back up, but suddenly something heavy was on top of her.
Legs pinned her arms to her sides while the weight of Laurel’s body kept Kara trapped on the ground. Those red and hungry eyes were glowing in the dark of her shadowed face as she leaned over, her hair hanging down like a privacy curtain for both of them now. “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” A finger pressed to Kara’s mouth, dragging over her legs as it wagged at her. “That wasn’t very nice. I expected more from such a strong, independent girl like yourself.”
Words were slow to come to Kara. Her tongue felt heavy, her head a fog; was Laurel’s voice always so melodious?
“But I know how easy it is to falter. None of us are perfect, are we?” Laurel leaned in; her cat that ate the canary grin growing wider as she neared. Her voice was so smooth, so soothing; a deception, Kara knew, but it was so easy to be lulled by. That grin was pressing to Kara’s mouth now, tongue snaking out to lick against closed lips. “Open up for me, Love. You know you want to.”
This was why she was called the Siren. Not every vampire had a unique ability, but there were some who gained it. Whether it was age or just a stroke of luck or something about them as a person that made them worthy of it, they gained a specialized treat to aid them in their hunts. And hers? A voice capable of hypnotizing her prey.
Slayers were, usually, able to resist most mental based abilities. But weakened or distracted or dazed, they were susceptible.
But Kara knew, deep in her gut and to her shame, it wasn’t just that she’d been dazed by the blow and subsequent fall that made her vulnerable to Laurel’s trick. Attraction went a long way to aid a vampire in using their abilities.
This was no exception. Laurel had done it before, though she hadn’t noticed. She tried and backed off, tried and backed off; like she didn’t want to commit to it, not yet. Tonight was different. There was a shift between them, something Kara hadn’t picked up on.
Stupid. So stupid. She had gotten too damn comfortable. Enjoyed their dance too much.
Her mouth opened when Laurel’s tongue traced her lips again. She could feel the other woman purr with satisfaction before diving in, kissing her latest conquest hard and with fangs, drawing blood. Kara shuddered and closed her eyes; tried to force out any fear or any lust that was threatening to rise up and overwhelm her.
If this was how she went out, at least it felt good. There were worse ways for a Slayer to meet their end. Not as many that would be as shamed in the Slayer history books, though.
“Mm, I could eat you right up,” Laurel murmured as her mouth pulled back, just a little, just enough to speak. Her hands were cupping Kara’s face, holding it there. “But then who would I have to play with? Everyone else is so boring compared to you.” The soft, playful rub of a nose against Kara’s followed her words, along with a thoughtful hum. “No, I don’t want to devour you yet, little Slayer.”
“I knew you were all talk,” Kara whispered. Her eyes were still closed, though, and the tremble in her body wasn’t just lust.
Laurel laughed and nipped at her racing pulse. “One of these days, I won’t be. Question is, what will you do about it? Because part of you wants it, Kara. Part of you wants it.”
The weight of Laurel on top of her started to lighten up, but Kara finally managed to gather enough of her wits to move her arms, new free of the legs trapping them, to grab the vampire before she could get away. Eyes open, she met Laurel’s blood-colored gaze as she licked at the taste of her still on her lips.
Tonight was different. There was a shift between them.
“You’re right. Part of me does want it. Wants you.”
The Siren’s eyes darkened, narrowing, her body language slipping easily from taunting to hunting. She moved back in, lowering down even as her hands, cradling the back of Kara’s head, lifted her up closer. “Say it again, Slayer.”
Kara wasn’t the first to make this mistake. She doubted she would be the last. It was the nature of the beast; Slayers’ lives were devoted to the existence of monsters. Just because they were tasked with killing them didn’t mean they would never falter; fall for them. Even the ones who embraced what they were.
Licking her lips, slowly, Kara focused her gaze on Laurel, hands moving to cup her face. “I want you.”
Laurel’s mouth was on hers again, hard and hungry, invasive nearly, and an animalistic snarl rumbled from Laurel’s throat to Kara’s mouth. Those arms circled around her again, this time pinning Kara to her chest to chest. “Oh, little Slayer. You’ve got me.”