Black Shadows and Bloody Love

Welcome to the Black Typhoon. This is my "Hate to Love You" story and I hope you enjoy. For now, a little introduction into things. <3

The music that stormed out of the building was loud enough and up beat enough to get anyone who passed into a dancing mood. The line at the front door was wrapped around the block. Most of the people in said line were of the female persuasion. There were a few groups of men who looked to fart perfectly colored rainbows but they would be let in with the proper cover charge and stamp.

The building was five stories. The first three were gutted to make a very nice, very big club. Everything flowed together in a strange, hypnotic kind of way. There was a VIP section, a stange in the center of the club itself, several cages located at key points, a bar that large enough to house at least fifty people on the stools, what was commonly assumed to be the changing rooms next to that and off in the back by the stairs leading to the top two tiers were the rest rooms. The second tier had a few well placed kitchen appliances to make some very delicious food and the third tier was the dancing floor.

Bouncers were posted all over the club, from top to bottom. Some were armed and others were unarmed. Anyone guarding an outside door was armed and anyone inside was trained in hand to hand combat to make sure no one got injured unecessarily. Females were monitoring the female bathroom and the changing rooms while men were on the floors and at the door making sure everyone who came in was of legal age, had proper ID and wasn't a creep.

"Hey Boss!" Ice blue eyes turned to stare at a tiny, white female. 

"Girl, you better get on to the VIP section and shake that tight little ass for some cake."

"Sure thing Brown Sugar~" She waved and he nodded at her. He was trying to get his people to give him a better stage name.

Unfortunately a black man who stood six foot seven inches tall, weighed almost three hundred pounds with dreads to his ass and had a voice like deep molasis was hard to come up with a suitable nickname. So Brown Sugar stuck. His customers didn't mind and neither did his impudent little minions- or his babies rather. He watched Trina wiggle her pert white ass to the VIP section and chuckled.

It was after he filled a double shot of Jack that the strangest smell his his nose. His eyes locked onto the door and he immediately had to excuse himself to the back of the bar out of sight of his customers. On his way, he grabbed Rick, one of his bouncers and pushed him up against a wall. There were no words, just fangs digging deep into soft, pliant flesh. Rick groaned, body bucking against Makail's while the bigger black man held him down firmly.

Everyone who worked at the Black Typhoon knew what Makail really was. In turn for fair wages, protection and a tight knit family unit, they allowed him to feed on them when he needed and they kept his secret. Whoever had walked into the bar smelled different. Smelled like raw power. Smelled delicious. He was going to need every ounce of strength he could muster and still appear human. He would smell human and he could hide his fangs well enough that customers who actually took time to stare thought they were implants.

When he was finished, Makail sent Rick home. The man looked confuddled and was hard as a rock. Makail knew Rick's wife Amanda would be super pissed at them both if he were to man handle that problem for his bouncer. But as the man walked towards the bar, Makail smiled charmingly.

"Welcome to the Black Typhoon. Either you're gay and here for the man meat on stage or you're looking for a job. What can I do for you?"