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The squeaking of the shower knobs was louder than the hissing water and
always set her teeth on edge. "Rabid bat," she muttered in a
parody of her not so obvious condition. She shuddered and stepped
out of the shower. Opening the door to the bathroom to allow the
now much colder room air in. She almost shivered from the cold
blast. Her new A/C unit was doing a much better job than the old
one. She toweled dry and walked out of the still slightly steamy bathroom and into her living/sleeping area. Her apartment was moderately large, but only contained three rooms: Living/sleeping area, bath room and the kitchen, which was separated from the living area by a chest high peninsula. It made for almost no privacy, but since she was living alone, except when Sofye visited, that was of no consequence. Walking to her full length mirror, she tossed the towel onto the bed and gazed at her reflection. "Glad that legend isn't true," she mused. "How would I primp?" She laughed but then got a serious expression on her face. She cupped her breasts and frowned. "He's right. I am far too skinny. I have no shape any more. Except for my legs, I could pass for a boy." She hissed with displeasure. "Poor guy probably though he was talking to his kid brother." She turned her back to the mirror and looked over he shoulder. She firmly smacked her buttocks, and the resounding crack testified to how firm they were. "Damn, she muttered. "Could be make out of stone!" She grunted and got dressed, wondering how she could gain some weight. For her death by chocolate probably would be! Since the change, there was so much she could no longer tolerate. One of the things that the legends did have right, is that once a month she'd develop an almost insatiable craving for living blood. Any blood would do, actually, but human blood from a living donor was the most satisfying and nourishing. By carefully selecting her victims and feeding cautiously, she'd managed to avoid a real crisis of conscience and the very unwelcome attention of law officials. Lately, she'd not been hunting regularly and had been supplementing with a lot of very rare beef, one of the more benign meats to her system. She'd mostly just suck the blood juices from it and feed the meat to a colony of feral cats that lived in the alley, near her apartment. That was an arrangement that worked for both of them. "I either need to get a volunteer or seriously start hunting," she thought. "It's obvious that my natural diet is human beings." As a victim of childhood abuse, Eliza had learned to take a hard look at the world around her, and she recognized the necessity to survive. That is intrinsic to all living things. She was of the opinion that the world was filled with people who deserved to die, and she was not adverse to helping some of them accomplish that task. She grinned as she remember telling one particularly nasty specimen, "You're too stupid to die. Here, let me smarten you up." She shook her head at the memory. "OK, so I'm not a comedienne. I did think it was funny, at the time. The look on his face was a prize when he realized it what he, not I, that was going to die." She smacked her lips. "Fear sure makes them taste better. I guess it's the adrenaline rush. I can taste it and it is so exhilarating." She licked her lips. "I NEED to go hunting!" She was deep into the Munson area. She'd chosen to be on foot, tonight. Maybe she just needed to get back to basics. Maybe she should just concentrate on enjoying who and what she was and try to make the world a little better place for all its creatures. She smiled at the thought. "That could work." The working night was almost over. The bars would be closing soon, so the hookers would be on the street, looking for that last trick. The drunks would be trying to find their cars so they would ever so carefully drive home, and the dealers would be looking for a few final sales to all the happy people. A fertile hunting ground for a malnourished vampire! The man the approached her was rather drunk. His come-on was truly unique: "Hey, sweet-meat, wanna party?" He was tall, mid-thirties, and reasonably presentable. Her, "Sure, Hon, you just lead the way," had ended in a parking lot where he held the door of his luxury sedan open for her. When he got in, he just could not resist her bare breasts. As he was nipping and sucking, a ridge hand delivered just below his occipital ridge caused him to painlessly enter an unconscious state. She lowered him to her lap, and had a nice leisurely feed. When she was done, being careful not to harm him, she opened his belt and trousers fly and partially undressed him. She removed a hundred dollars from his wallet and arranged him as comfortably as she could. When he awakened, he'd have some very interesting memories that had no basis in reality, and he'd feel tired for a couple of days. "You see, you shouldn't try to pick up strange ladies," she whispered to him. "You never know what might catch you!" She laughed at her own play on words. Eliza closed and locked the car doors. She burped a very lady like burp as she made her way back to the Munson area, proper. She was feeling rather buoyant after her feeding. Back at her apartment, she lumbered to her bed and fell face first into it. "Three," she groaned. "Three feeds in one night. I may not survive this." She groaned and fell sound asleep. That week, she repeated the hunting and feeding pattern each night, more than making for the nourishment deficit she'd been experiencing. She had agreed to meet Luke at the Rusty Nail, this Saturday night and she was hoping to present a much more feminine appearance. While she had been drastically underweight, the additional nourishment, along with her condition's impact on her physical constitution, had produced remarkable results in the intervening weeks. Staring into the mirror, she smiled. There were curves where there were supposed to be curves, her hips and breasts were nicely rounded, while her waist remained tiny in comparison. She nodded with satisfaction. “I may not be a knock out beauty, but at least I don't look like a boy anymore.” She sighed. “It's hard sometimes,” she mused. “When there's no one in your life who cares, it's hard for you to care.” She grimaced and began choosing her night's outfit. Eliza saw Luke before he noticed her. He was relaxing with a tall, cool drink next to his hand and a bowl of chips in the middle of the table. There was a live band tonight, and he was tapping his finger to the beat of the music. She stopped and focused on him, trying to get a good sense of his being. Her impression was that he was open and direct. A combination that she was not used to in her life. She smiled and walked up to the table. "Hey, Sailor, buy a girl a drink?" He jumped, startled. He'd really zoned out, listening to the music. Smiling, he stood. "Be my pleasure, Ma'am! Do be seated and comfortable." He offered a flourish in the direction of her intended seat. She sat. "I'll join you if you promise to lose the florid language and offer me plenty of cold and alcoholic!" "That I can do," he chuckled. He stared at her. "You look different." He squinted, obviously trying to figure out what had changed. "Give it up, Guy. It's female magic and no man can penetrate it." Her grin was wicked. His quizzical look seemed to confirm her statement. "I guess you're right," he sighed. "But trust me, I'll figure it out. Sometimes I'm slow, but I usually get there." He grinned and winked. They were in an end booth, with no one in the booth adjacent to them, so they felt at ease to speak freely, in low voices. Eliza spent some time telling Luke about the Deacon's compound, up north. She gave him a very abbreviated rendition of the CBI incident and her connection with Duk's Raiders. When Luke had tried to question her about some of the details, she'd put him off by indicating that she fill in some of the details later. While it was obvious that he was not happy with that, he did not want to lose the thread of what he was being told. So far, everything she'd told him as new information. "So," she said, "since then, both the Raiders and Deacon's crew have been fairly low key. The crime rate has noticeably dropped in the area." "That's a good thing," he said. "We need to make sure that trend continues." Eliza nodded. "I'll help any way I can." A loud clatter came from the booth next to them. A group of what seemed to be college students crowded six into a booth that would comfortably hold four, laughing and giggling. A feminine squeal, was followed by a slap. "Ouch," a masculine voice intoned. "That hurt!" "It was supposed to hurt. If you can't control those hands, you're in for a long dry spell," the feminine voice replied. Eliza looked at Luke and rolled her eyes. "There goes the neighborhood," she whispered. Luke grinned and nodded. "My place?" "Works for me. Let's go" The temperature had dropped a bit, though the humidity was still uncomfortably high. Tonight, her hair neatly secured and she was dressed in a more fashionable manner than their first meeting. Leaving the Rusty Nail, Luke had held the door open for Eliza, as any gentleman would, and got the unexpected reward of watching her walk up the four steps to the outer door. He suddenly realized what was different about her. This was not the skinny Eliza he'd spent time with previously. This Eliza had very sexy shape. He nodded and smiled. "At least 15 pounds," he guessed. "How did she do it," he wondered. "What's it been? Two weeks? I must not be remembering her correctly. No on could change that much in only two weeks." He hurried up the stairs, to exit from the door she was holding for him. "Still too damn hot," she muttered. Luke nodded. "Yea, we'll just take it slow and easy. It's not quite a twenty minute walk. They ambled easily along, not saying much, in companionable silence. The thunder of a big Harley rapidly approached them. Luke spun, his hand reaching to the small of his back. Eliza instantly recognized the sound as being Duk's machine. She quickly stepped next to Luke and held his arm in a grip that made it very difficult for him go draw a weapon. Eliza smiled. "Hey, Guy, Why aren't you where it's cool on a hot night like this." Duk looked Luke up and down, reading the situation instantly. "I'm on my way to sit in front of the A/C with a cold one, now." He looked at Luke. "By the way, I'm Duk. I don't think we've met." Eliza could feel Luke relax a bit and Duk could tell that he loosened up a bit. He smiled and replied. "No, we haven't. I'm Luke. The Nail got a little rowdy so we were taking a silence break." Duk grimaced. "Know what you mean. Well, you two enjoy the night. I do hear my brew calling me." He held up to fingers in the "peace" sign roared off. They watched him vanish in the distance. "So, that's Duk." Luke said. "That is one big scary dude." He snorted. "Polite, too!" Eliza issued a big sigh. "I am so glad you did not draw on him. For as big as he is, he is poison fast. I strongly suspect that he was some very black ops, but of course, he'd not say anything about that. He's a good friend to have." Luke appeared thoughtful. "For your information, if he was black ops, he still IS black ops. That's something you just don't really walk away from." He chewed his bottom lip. "Good to know. Good to know." He turned to face Eliza. "Did you notice the peace sign he flashed?" "Huh?" "The peace sign." He held his hand up and flashed the "V". Did you notice it?" "Uh, not really. I mean, I saw it, but some people do that. Doesn't really mean much." Luke took Eliza's arm and continued their journey. "The way Duk did it meant a lot." They walked a few moments, silent. "That was a recognition signal." "I'm guessing you want an introduction," Eliza said. "Could be useful," Luke observed. "But no rush, and honestly, no need. We have plans to make. I'm just getting my feet wet in this Deacon thing. You are way ahead of me there, and Duk's just appeared on the radar. There's a lot we, or at least I, need to accomplish, first." Hoisting her drink to Luke, "Next week," she said and smiled. "Next Sunday is the full moon and there's a chance the Deacon will throw one of his torture parties at Baynard's Graveyard. I've heard a rumor that has started again. If that's true, we can sting him badly!" Her grin was feral. Luke sat, facing her. His apartment was pleasantly cool, compared to the sticky, humid, outside night. He toasted her, and both drank. He was surprised at the intensity of her emotion when discussing the Deacon. "There's a lot more here than I know," he thought. "I'd better be careful or I might really step in it. I do not want to lose her as an ally." "Next week it is," he agreed. "Nobody ever accomplished anything sitting around talking about it." Luke's modified military hummer had no problem negotiating the rough terrain of the route that Eliza had suggested. The bright, full moon made headlights unnecessary, a security element both were thankful for. Luke stopped the vehicle below the crest of the ridge. The graveyard would be visible on the other side. Being careful not to silhouette themselves on the crest, they could see that there was activity below. Luke opened his rifle case and extracted a heavy rifle with a large scope on it. "Night-bright optics," he said, pointing at the large scope. Peering through the scope, he let out an expletive. He handed Eliza binoculars. "Here, take a look." Eliza smiled and carefully did not mention she didn't need them. Her night vision was easily equal to his scope, but she did take them and look. She grimaced. There were people in long dark, hooded, robes milling around. Three naked girls were being led to the center of the area, where large, wooden X-frames were mounted. They acted as if they were in shock or drugged. Their heads were down and they walked with shuffling steps. Unresisting, they allowed themselves to be tied to the X-frames, arms spread over their heads, and legs forced apart, due to the frame, pubic area a little less than waist high, spreading them out like some obscene sexual offering. A fire was lit, to one side, casting an eerie, flickering light over the scene. Luke grunted and dialed back the gain on his scope. The extra light had been too much to bear. The figures began circling, the crossed being in the center of their circular path. As they circled, they would touch, stroke and penetrate the girls with fingers and small dildo like objects. There was a low, rhythmic drum audible, Eliza guessed from a portable player, that, along with the flickering flames, was producing a hypnotic surreal effect. The drumming stopped and everyone stepped back a few paces. A tall man, carrying an ornate staff, stepped forward and advanced to one of the cross bound girls, walking between lower cross members and approaching her. He dropped his robe, leaving the hood on, and his intentions became apparent. The size of his erection left no doubt how the young girl was to be used. Using his left hand, he lowered his erect member and penetrated her. Everyone was silent, watching. Slowly, he began to move in and out and the robbed members began to chant a guttural chant, in time with his movement. His movements began to increase in speed and intensity, along with the chanting. It was obvious that he was approaching orgasm. A robbed figure approached and took his staff and handed him a long knife. When the girl saw the knife, she began to scream, as if she knew what was going to happen. Luke muttered "Oh, shit," and focused he scope on the scene below. Eliza accelerated at full speed down the hill, heading for the sexually excited leader. She was over three quarters of the way there when the leader raised the knife in a two-handed stabbing grip and prepared to plunge it into the body of the terrified sacrifice. He raised the knife, screamed as his orgasm started and plunged the knife down. His head exploded. He dropped, limp and lifeless, his final act incomplete, as Eliza arrived. The rolling thunder of a high powered rifle echoed through the graveyard. Eliza pulled her knives and struck into the confused participants. She heard another shot and the chest of a man, next to her, blossomed red. She cut his throat just to be sure and for the sheer satisfaction of it. She was hit from behind. She rolled forward and bounced back to her feet, facing a snarling hooded figure. She executed a blue worm strike that opened his belly, spilling his intestines to the ground. He lay, whimpering, trying to put them back into his abdomen as his last act. Spinning and slashing, she roared through the robbed figures like a leather clad tornado. One more shot thunderously rolled over the area and she realized that she was the only one standing. "Eliza," she heard, "Get out now. Leave. Help is on the way!" The amplified voice terminate with a crunch of static. She froze and heard a sound from above. Spot lights lanced down from two helicopters. She whipped her cape over her and hit the ground, invisible from the air. Back on the ridge, she watched as the three girls were released, relatively unharmed, wrapped in protective blankets and flown out of sight. She turned and faced Luke. "If we ever work together again, you will never allow me to remain so uninformed of your intentions and arrangements. Your idiot actions and lack of trust in me could have gotten innocent people killed. Do you freaking hear me," she hissed, the very personification of rage. Luke held up his hands in a mollifying gesture, realizing she was right. He'd just seen her kill ten people, he'd killed three. There was no doubt in his mind that she was deadly. With two knives, she'd done more damage than he'd accomplished with a high powered, scoped rifle. "You're right. It won't happen again. I'm sorry!" His ready apology defused her roiling rage. Eliza hissed, not sure of what to say. They rode in silence back to Luke's apartment. Back at the apartment, Eliza took off her cape and examined it. There was one bullet hole. She had not realized that she'd been shot. There was knife slash that she wasn't sure she'd be able to have repaired. Luke had to smile at her expression. "Cute but deadly," he mused. She hung her cape up, on a hook on his door. She looked down at her burgundy silk blouse and frowned. She quickly removed it and held it up for inspection. It was thoroughly blood soaked, torn, and to her mind, disgusting. "Well, that one's ruined," she said to an amused Luke. He grinned. "You always forget your bra on a mission." he asked grinning. Eliza looked down at her blood soaked torso. "I didn't forget. I didn't want one ruined, besides, do you really think I need one?" She grinned at him, pulling her shoulders back. She unwrapped her skirt, tossed it on a chair, and turned. "Shower this way," she asked heading around the corner. "Ah, yes it is," Luke replied, not sure how to react to the conundrum of Eliza. He heard the water come on, and in an incredibly short time, it went off. She wasted no time. She walked into the living area, nude, toweling her hair dry. "I think I've only felt that dirty once or twice before." She shuddered. "Do you have another towel? This was the only one I saw, and my hair is still prone to drip." Luke did have more than one towel, much to Eliza's relief. Luke started to speak, hesitated and then continued, "Eliza, just what the hell are you? I mean besides sexy and deadly? Are you some sort of Romanian Ninja or something?" He smiled, indicating that he was unsure of how to approach the subject. Eliza stopped drying her and stared at him. "Honestly, I'm not sure how to answer you. I think your intentions are good, but I really don't know you, yet." "So, you wouldn't have to kill me if you told me," he joked. She smiled. "No, but I might have to implement evil, mind-control devices to insure that you forget." She grinned. Luke snorted. "Why does that NOT make me feel a lot better?" "Cause you know when you've stepped into quicksand," Eliza asked. Before he could respond, his cell phone chirped. He frowned and answered. "Roger," he responded. "Good work. I'll get back to you." He smiled as he put the phone back into his holster. "Good news, Eliza. The girls are fine. The one he was raping had some minor surgery and should fully recover. Oh, they aren't even in this state, anymore. Right now, they are in the care of a very effective abused woman's shelter. They now have a very strong organization supporting them." He smiled. "They'll be fine, now. It'll take time, but they will recover." Eliza smiled. "That's good to hear. I was all Sofye had, and I did the best I could. Luke nodded, quickly putting it together. "Makes more sense, now," he thought. "You do what you have to do, Eliza. I doubt anyone could have done better." "So! Sounds like we had a good night. Now, the question is what to we do next. Do you have a direction?" Eliza resumed drying her hair. "Right now, I'm watching you dry your hair, and new directions are really getting hard to consider. You cannot be older than I!" "Getting hard, eh?" She smiled. "I was wondering how long it was going to take. I was beginning to wonder about you." "You little witch! You've been doing this on purpose. You are playing with my mind." "Well, I have been doing it on purpose, but it's not your mind that's the target. Why don't you go hit the shower, and when you come out, we'll see what happens." Luke lost no time following her suggestion. He was sliding into a post mission let down. A shower and Eliza would do wonders, he hoped. Walking from the shower to the living room, towel wrapped around him, he wondered what Eliza was actually going to do. So far, she'd been absolutely unpredictable. As he entered the living room, the lights went off and the shades had been drawn to prevent any stray light. He felt the towel around his waist being removed and was aware of a cool, smooth body pressed next to him. What happened next, left no doubt about what Eliza intended. "Afterward, we discuss what's next," she whispered. |