The Ghost Murders

by: Ismira Daugene

Chapter 1

The Gift

A flash of a smile. A smoldering look. A glint of something just a little bit dangerous in his eye. Mortal women were so easy to entrance.

Jareth swaggered past the muscled bouncers and into the club. He'd been here before, but not for a few months. He didn't like to frequent any given place too often for fear of someone recognizing him. Most mortals were far too dense to put two and two together, but on the off chance that someone did, he jumped from club to club frequently.

Tonight he was visiting a small place in Lower Manhattan called Libation. It was a multi-story dance club that suited his needs just fine. The club's lower level always played some kind of electronic music with a heavy thumping base, which made it difficult to actually talk to anyone, not that he really needed to talk to achieve his goal. He smirked as he made his way onto the dance floor. The crush of bodies all around him, sweating, heaving, swaying… it was easy to become disoriented. However he'd done this enough. He'd learned how to move with the humans around him, to become another wave in the sea of hormones and lust.

The thumping beat vibrated through his body as he slid through the crowd, his eyes searching. They came to a halt on a table just off the dance floor where two young women were giggling and leaning towards each other in order to talk. He plastered a friendly and welcoming smile on his face as he made his way towards them. One woman was tall and heavy-set with waves of curly chestnut hair framing her round pale pink face. Her knee length black dress with turquoise accents on the skirt and shoulders slimmed her body and went well with her black heels. The second woman was short and had deep cool brown skin that complimented the silvery halter dress she wore. A short afro of tight spirals sat on top of her head, the sides trimmed close to her skull. They appeared to be friends, and judging by the lack of other drinks at their table, they were without dates for the night. Perfect.

A smile and two outstretched arms with come hither fingers was all it took. The two women looked at each other for a second then followed Jareth out onto the dance floor. The thumping baseline and flashing lights dictated the pace of their body movements as they swayed together. Their hips moved as one. Sweat dripped down their bodies. Hands gripped hips. Thrusts and grinds mimicked the carnal movements that all three imagined happening later in a more private setting. Several songs merged into one long dance session until one of the women mimicked drinking from a glass. The other two nodded and all three headed toward the bar.

Jareth bought their drinks and they made their way back to a table. "My name's Hope," the woman with chestnut hair introduced herself.

"And mine is Jada," the woman with the afro said. "You're one hell of a dancer," she grinned before sipping at her cocktail.

"Thank you! And my name is Jared," Jareth replied, using one of the names he rotated between for these occasions.

"Are you here alone, Jared?" Hope asked.

"Alas, I came with a friend, but he seems to have found someone more interesting to spend the night with," Jareth let out a put-upon sigh.

"Oh, well you're welcome to hang out with us," Jada offered.

"That's most gracious of you," Jareth smiled. "Would you care to dance again?"

The two women slammed back the rest of their cocktails and followed the man out onto the dancefloor again. Once again, the beat consumed them and their bodies moved to match. Several more rounds of drinks and dancing followed until the two women were tipsy enough that they had trouble standing up. Jareth gently suggested they find a place to spend the night and the two women agreed eagerly.

A hotel only two blocks away worked perfectly. Jareth paid cash for a suite with one king sized bed. The women giggled and clung to his arm as he paid. However the hotel desk clerk didn't even bat an eye. It was pretty obvious that he'd seen this before and knew what would be happening in the king sized bed. The fae led the women over to the elevator and pressed the button for the thirteenth floor. Room 1307 held a minibar, which the two women broke into as soon as they entered the room. They flopped down on the bed, spilling vodka along the way. Jareth slowly stripped out of his shirt, carefully unbuttoning each button down his chest. The women giggled and settled back to watch as he unbuttoned the cuffs and slipped out of the sweat soaked black Oxford shirt.

Hope had reached back for the TV remote during this and turned on a channel with upbeat music. Jareth swayed his hips to the music, thrusting in time to the beat as he worked his fingers under the band of the dark denim. He undid the button and worked the fly down, giving a peek of the navy blue briefs underneath. The two women cheered him on until he finally worked the denim down his pale slender legs and tossed them in the corner. However the briefs stayed on for the moment and Hope and Jada admired the bulging front as they rose from the bed and slipped out of their dresses. Manicured nails lightly scratched down Jareth's back causing a shiver to ripple outward. He grabbed a hold of the hips in front of him, tugging them closer to better grind against them. Flushed bodies tangled together in the dark room as panting breaths provided a counterpoint to the music still playing from the TV.

They tumbled to the bed. One woman sat astride Jareth, her body ready to take in his if not for the damned briefs still in the way. She moved off of him and motioned for her friend to come closer. The two of them worked together to slide the briefs off, their nails slightly scratching his inner thighs and making him shudder. One worked her way back up his body until her breasts were above his mouth. He reached up and gently cupped them, fingering the nipple before leading her down to his eager tongue. The other woman sat astride him again and ground their hips together, moans spilling from her open mouth.

He reached one hand down and stilled her hips, eliciting a disappointed whimper. "Let me fill you. Let me give you what you want," he whispered in a sinful voice.

She whimpered again and rose just enough to position him at her entrance before slowly sinking down. She began to grind again, but with higher pitched moans this time. The other woman guided Jareth's head back to her breast and he renewed his attention to her, lapping and sucking eagerly. One hand made its way down between her legs and began to stroke gently but firmly there. She moaned and whimpered, holding his head close to her chest.

The woman riding him sped up, chasing her orgasm. Jareth matched her pace with his fingers between the other woman's legs. The three of them panted and groaned, riding the edge. The first to go crashing over the edge was the woman wiggling on Jareth's fingers. She let out a loud moan and jerked several times, her hands still clutching Jareth's head to her breasts. Jareth was the next to let go, emptying himself into the woman still riding him for all she was worth. He gritted his teeth as the orgasm was pulled from him and extended until her silken walls fluttered and contracted around his cock. She groaned as she fell sideways off of him and onto the bed. The three of them gasped for air, their sweat soaked, cum streaked bodies recovering from their exertions.

After several long minutes, Jareth rose and went into the bathroom. He came back with two damp cloths and gently cleaned the three of them before climbing back into bed between the two exhausted and already half-asleep women.

Five Hours Later

Jareth buttoned the cuff of his black Oxford shirt as he listened to the morning news turned on low. The news anchor was covering the lead story for the morning, a homicide several weeks old that had just been discovered in the Ridgewood district of Queens. The news anchor stood in front of a residential area, an ambulance and several police cars in the background and police tape marking off the entrance to one apartment building in particular.

"This is the sixth victim of the Ghost Murders, so dubbed because the peculiar lack of evidence leading towards a culprit. Police are baffled by this lack of evidence. One anonymous source said that if he didn't know any better, he'd say there wasn't another person in the room at all. However all of the victims have been found to have died from exsanguination, that is from blood loss. The problem being that nobody can figure out how or where all of the blood went as no weapon or blood has been found at any of the crime scenes."

Jareth finished buttoning his shirt and slipped his jacket on. He sat at the foot of the bed to listen to the end of the news report.

"Police Chief Russo has stated that there will be an official announcement in regards to this case later today. This has been Sarah Williams, reporting."

Jareth smiled and watched the older, but still familiar face look into the camera. Her long dark brown hair had been cut short, into a more professional style. And her face that had once held soft round cheeks was now more sharp and angular. Her style and appearance may have changed, but she was still the Sarah Williams who had run his Labyrinth all those years ago. "Sarah, my dear," he sighed. "I'd feared you would not find my gift to you in time."

He stood and brushed off his jacket before starting to weave a complex spell into a crystal sphere. He brushed it back and forth across his palms and the back of his hands until the sphere was bursting with magical energy. When he was ready, he tossed the sphere into the air above the bed. It burst and rained down a cascade of dark sparkling glitter. It swept away any trace that he had been in the room; any fingerprints, bodily fluids, and hairs disappeared, leaving two cold pale still women lying on the bed with space in between them for one more.

"Well, my darlings, I doubt you'll have to wait as long as poor Raina did to be found." He gave them a soft smile. "Housekeeping should be along in a couple of hours."

He turned back to the TV. Sarah was answering a question from another anchor back in the studio. "You have an exciting day ahead of you, dear Sarah. I hope you enjoy my new gift. After all, I move the stars for no one, but you."

With that, he snapped his fingers and the TV flickered off. Another twirl of his gloved hand and he was gone. No trace was left of him except a lingering smell of peaches that would be long gone by the time housekeeping showed up.

Author Notes: Gear up, because Serenity_Stardust talked me into making this into an actual chapter story instead of a one-shot. Things to look forward to: dark (really dark) Jareth, journalist Sarah, murder mystery (except not really because y'all already know who did it), and stalker Jareth. Be forewarned.

No guarantees on a regular update schedule, but I will definitely try. How's that? *puts hand over Yoda's mouth*