The characters portrayed in this story are just that, characters in my story. Any similarities to real people are purely coincidental and unintentional. The characters and situations portrayed are pure fantasy; the author is keen to state that in reality adult sexuality should remain only in the adult world. Please do not allow or cause this story to fall in to the hands of minors.
The journey from home to the reservoir, on foot, had been an arduous one. Lalo would never be able to understand why her mother had panicked so much. Her mind drifted back to her bedroom; she remembered, Cath and her, lying together, entwined with her Mum. The three of them were gently recovering from their sexual excesses, but what had happened to spook her Mum? Lalo relaxed, forcing her mind back; back into the heady feelings, which she had experienced in the afterglow of the sexual gymnastics, and then she saw it.
No, that wasn't entirely right. At first, she had felt it; the room had grown warmer, the atmosphere sultry, and then the light, a dull red glow. That was the moment Maldea had flown into a frenzy of packing. Within minutes, they were out of the house and walking. Then Mum had done the oddest of things, she asked Lalo where to go, as if she would know!
Even stranger, Lalo did know, and she directed her mother south. After hours of fruitless trekking, they had arrived here, Sithian's reservoir with its decrepit, abandoned bunker. As soon as Lalo saw the deserted large 'Pill box', she had known; this was the 'place'. The only questions that still ranked high in her mind were why? What force had bought her here, and why did she now feel safe?
"Come on, Lalo, no time for reflection - there's much to be done!" said Maldea.
"Done, here! What can be done?" asked Lalo.
"Lots. We can make this bunker feel more like home. I won't let my standards drop."
"Can't we just go home? Dad will be worried."
"No! He would never understand what happened between us all, how could he?"
"Dad's a good man, he would forgive us."
"You are right; your Dad is a good, honest man. I, on the other hand, have broken the law; abused you and Cath. He would go to the police, Lalo, and I would go to prison."
"Dad wouldn't do that, surely. He wouldn't want that."
"Probably not, but if he did - I would go to jail, and you would go into care! Is that what you want?"
"No, I suppose not," Lalo agreed.
"That's settled then, now roll your sleeves up. We have work to do, and quickly, if we are to be ready for our guests."
"We are going to have visitors? Here?" Lalo gasped.
"No, oh I don't know, it's just a feeling I have. Now work."
Lalo grumbled, and cast a long glance at Cath, who had been hanging back, only too happy to keep out of the family squabbles. Cath shrugged, and idly kicked some of the rubbish on the floor of the bunker. She turned her back to Lalo and gazed out of the long, narrow slit in the bunker wall.
Cath could see why the bunker had been placed here; she had a perfect view of the whole width of Stithian's reservoir. In the distance, she could make out the tip of Crowan beacon, an earlier form of early warning system. For, over the centuries many had tried, and failed, to invade this remote corner of England. Cath wondered what they were doing here, and just what they needed to be alert to.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Lalo.
"Cath, will you help me clean this place up?"
"Sure, where's your mum going?"
"She's off to get some supplies - she might be gone a while, she has to hitch hike to Redruth."
"I hope she's back before it gets dark, this place unnerves me."
---
The van had only travelled a few miles when it quaked and stopped. Virginia scrambled to her feet, and moved to the rear window. The van was lopsided; part perched on a bank. All Virginia could see was lush woodland. Her location screening came to a sudden end as Rachael's face popped up, her eyes wild and flaming. Still hunched over, Virginia retreated as far as the cargo hold would allow her. She felt the solid bulkhead bite into her back through her slack towelling robe.
The rear door wrenched open, and Rachael entered, followed quickly by Pearl. Virginia watched the teenagers as if her life depended on it. Rachael reached out and calmly pulled the rear door shut, the interior dimmed. Rachael knelt down and tugged at Pearl's jeans. She pulled her down to face her. Rachael reached out in a casual manner and brushed against the kneeling figure.
Pearl shivered, reacting to the slow caress of Rachael's fingertips as they wandered over her cotton blouse. Rachael's fingers located her buttons, and plucked them free from their fastenings. Virginia could hear her own breathing pause as the blouse fell open, sliding free of Pearl's sloping shoulders.
Trapped in a voyeuristic prison, Virginia wondered at Pearl's transformation; gone was the terrified girl, a young sexual being had shed its cocoon. The display offended and excited Virginia in equal measure. When Pearl turned her head and looked directly at Virginia, the older woman understood. She wished she hadn't, but she saw the inevitability of her future.
Rachael gently rotated Pearl's head back in her direction. She mouthed two words. Even in the dim light of the van, Virginia could easily lip read.
"She's yours."
Virginia froze, she felt like the butterfly - gazing at the collector, net in hand. As Pearl walked towards her crouched form, she wondered at herself. Cat-like, Pearl stalked her prey.
"Now Pearl, you don't have to do what Rachael tells you. Stop before this goes too far," Virginia pleaded.
Pearl hesitated, and Virginia stepped forward, reaching out for the consolatory hug. The force of Pearl's slap threw the doctor backwards and Virginia landed inelegantly on her padded rump. Pearl flew at her, not giving the shocked counsellor any time to recover. The teenager's hands were everywhere; in the space of seconds, they were under the robe and on Virginia's plump breasts.
The trapped counsellor fought to retain her composure and dignity. She had almost struggled free when she felt a wet mouth clamp over her sex. Her mind reeled, as Virginia fought against the increased longing, trying to concentrate on her professionalism instead. She blocked her passion, and was just about to force the teenagers off her, as Rachael's active tongue located her clitoris. Pearl bore down and trapped Virginia's stiff nipple between her teeth; Virginia made one last supreme effort of will and pushed the pale girl from her bosom.
Pearl flew back, and then slumped down, her chest crashing onto Virginia's face. The counsellor's open mouth was suddenly filled with a stiff throbbing bud of flesh. Virginia tried in vain to spit out the stiff nub from her mouth; which drove Pearl wilder in her lust. Virginia felt Pearl's prominent pubic bone driving rhythmically against the taut muscle of her thigh. Virginia came, and her professionalism went.
---
Helen woke late, as was her habit on 'off duty' days. As the morning progressed she began to feel guilty, in the way that only seems to curse the female of the species. 'I really can't spend the whole of my day off lazing around - I really should do something,' she thought, gazing at the early afternoon TV. Then it occurred to her, it had been so long since she had really cleaned the kitchen! It may not be spring but a 'spring clean' was in order. Helen happily busied herself - she had found something 'worthwhile' to fill her afternoon.
By half past three, the kitchen was looking like a bomb-site; cupboards flung open - their contents strewn across the work surfaces. Cloth in hand, Helen strenuously buffed the shelves of the cupboard under the sink. 'If a job's worth doing…' she thought to herself as she merrily hummed. Mid buff she was interrupted, by an unexpected sound, the doorbell chimed once, and then again. 'Who can that be?' Helen wondered, as she peeled off her yellow 'marigold' gloves, which she tossed into the sink and headed off to meet her unexpected caller.
Helen spied through the reeded glass beside the front door, but it was no use. The caller was too far back to make out anything other than a blue-grey blur. She swung the door open, and looked at the unknown woman.
"Sorry, but I don't buy anything at the door. Avon, is it, or Bettaware?" Helen enquired of the be-suited woman.
"No it's nothing like that, don't you recognise me, Helen?"
"Well, you look a bit familiar - did we meet at a conference?"
"No, it was a bit less formal than that!" The woman giggled.
Helen blanched, now she remembered her. She had never seen her at this angle before.
"What do you want?" Helen asked.
"Just a chat."
"How did you find me?"
"The barman, George? He seems a nice sort; I told him we were old friends. He was a bit embarrassed, but finally he told me where you lived. Aren't you going to invite me in?"
"Um sorry, yes, yes, yes, yes of course, come in," Helen sighed quietly.
Helen watched warily as the woman wandered towards her lounge. Her mind raced 'What does she want? Why would she confront me? Shit, I hope this isn't going to be too heavy.' The woman made herself at home, settling down on Helen's couch. She even had the audacity to nod at the armchair across from her. Without protest Helen sat, and waited.
"About last night…" no sooner had the woman started to speak, Helen interrupted her.
"Yes I'm sorry about that; I don't normally ravish people,"
No reply came; the woman simply paused, and eventually, reluctantly, started to speak again.
"About last night, I have never been a fan of perverted sex. In fact, I divorced my husband due to his addiction to telephone sex lines. My daughter and I live alone and I have been celibate for years," she sighed, "so you can imagine my shock…"
Once again, Helen butted in.
"I can only apologise, I mean, what more do you want?"
"I want you to stop interrupting me; this is difficult enough without your continual interruptions," she sighed again, "so you can imagine my shock, when I found myself so carried away. You broke through my defences! My taboos! I have rubbed my poor neglected slit raw - I'm insatiable. Now what are your intentions?"
Helen frowned.
"My intentions, what the hell do you mean? Do you expect me to marry you?" Helen's mouth cracked open, and emitted a low chuckle.
"It's not funny. I am a responsible mother; god knows what young Katie thought I was up to last night. I need to know where I stand."
"Katie, is that your daughter? How old is she?"
"Katie is sixteen, not that it's any of your business!"
"If she's sixteen, Katie will know exactly what you were up to," Helen smiled.
The woman blushed as her confident, ladylike air vanished. Before Helen she crumbled, her resolve crushed. She wept openly. Helen suddenly felt very cruel; she hadn't meant to wound her opponent so deeply. She stood and walked to the woman's side, laying a comforting hand on her heaving shoulder.
The woman looked up; rivulets of eye shadow streaked her pale cheeks. Her trembling lips opened as she groaned her desire.
"I want you so much, Helen. It hurts. What's wrong with me? I'm not like this normally."
Helen smiled gently at the tearful woman.
"What is your name?" she asked.
"Ethna-Jo Merill."
"Listen Ethna-Jo, you and Katie will be just fine. Helen is on your case now. Dry your eyes - we will sort this all out."
Helen ruffled Ethna-Jo's grey flecked dark mane of hair. She drank in the undisguised admiration burning in Ethna-Jo's brown eyes. 'This,' Helen thought, 'is going to be fun.'
---
Maldea struggled along the path, weighed down with six packed 'Safeway' carrier bags. She turned the corner, and walked from the quiet of Agar Road into the comparative bustle of the Illogan Highway. Maldea eyed the bus stop; she couldn't afford to waste any money. Every time she accessed the account, she risked discovery, and even worse, losing Lalo!
Grunting with effort, she traipsed back towards the 393 bus stop to Perranaworth. Half way up Tolgus Mount, she rested. As she straightened up from depositing her carriers, she was amazed by the commotion on the road beside her. A large car swerved across the lanes of traffic, ignoring the horns and flashing lights, and performed a very risky U-turn.
She watched agape, as the stretch limo slowed, without indicating, and finally stopped beside her. A black window rolled smoothly down into the black bodywork, and a beaming black face peered out.
"Hi!"
"Hi," Maldea responded, "are you guys lost?"
"Not any more, Maldea, not any more."
Maldea was just going to ask how the passenger had known her name, when one of the rear windows slipped down. The face that appeared answered all of Maldea's questions.
Soon her shopping was stowed in the boot of the limo, and Maldea sat between two of 'Les Bitches'. Gazing at the rest of the band, she finally found her tongue.
"Of course I know you guys, who wouldn't? But how do you know me?"
"Know you? We not only know you, we admire you. We also need you, you and Lalo. You could say you are our future," said Margit.
"You need us?" Maldea shivered.
"Yes, you see, Maldea, we know all about you. You and Jeff destroyed our bloodline. We were brought together by our Kainite sisters to resolve the largest threat to the kindred. You wiped them all out before we arrived. Most impressive!"
"Yes, I suppose we did. But you still haven't answered my question. Why do you need us?"
"You, my dear Maldea, are an orphan; one whose ancestral line had a vampyre bite. In the distant past, a vampyre bit one of your relatives, but that relative, who must have been as resourceful as you, escaped the final conversion. This makes you an orphan, pre-determined to be attracted to the Wampyr."
"Why does this matter?" asked Maldea.
"Normally it wouldn't, other than you dying early if unbitten. But in your case you bred, by chance, with another orphan, from a different Wampyr bloodline."
"Jeff?"
"Yes and your offspring is unique. Lalo is the spawn of two noble Wampyr clans. She may hold the clue to the final cure."
"A cure for vampirism?"
"No, a cure for the genetic mutation that causes the premature death of orphans. A way to hide our existence from the prying eyes of modern science."
"We won't help. I have fought you before and won, and I will win again," Maldea spat.
"Enough!" growled Margit, "It is time for your full induction to the kindred, time to still your rebellious heart!"
Maldea tried to shrink away from the myriad hands that reached for her. She struggled against them as they rudely shredded her clothes, trying to ignore the heat being kindled in her stomach. Sylvie's slim hands hovered just above Maldea's trembling bare breasts. As the hands lowered, Maldea saw the palms smile as they opened the serrated sphincters that would gorge on the life-blood from her nipples. Maldea screamed her last human scream.
---
Cath rushed across the bunker to where Lalo had collapsed. Tenderly she turned her friend over and stroked her face.
"Lalo, Lalo, can you hear me?"
"Mmmmm, sorry Cath, what happened?"
"You fainted, Lalo, don't you remember?"
"Remember, remember, oh yes - I remember! Mum - she's in danger, we are in danger," Lalo paused, and looked directly into Cath's eyes, "If you can look into the seeds of time, and say which grain will grow and which will not, Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear, Your favours nor your hate."
"Macbeth? Why are you quoting Macbeth? Lalo, Lalo!"
Lalo did not respond; she was unconscious again. Cath cuddled her friend, as she tried to ignore the dank bunker, the approaching darkness, and her own fear. Catherine Hebbert had never felt so alone.
"Mr Contadino? My Sergeant tells me you insist on seeing someone in authority. I'm sure he has explained the situation; your family have only been missing for a very short period of time. They may well turn up of their own accord."
"Listen buddy, I have just about had my fill. Are you going to take action, or are the police in this damn country IMPOTENT? YOU KNOW LACKING IN BALLS?"
The inspector stepped back, cocked his head and adopted a conciliatory tone.
"You are clearly upset, Mr Contadino, I will find a room and we will discuss this further. By the way, I'm Inspector ClunesBright, at your service," the tubby man extended his hand.
Jeff grasped it firmly and awarded it a cursory shake.
"Thank you."
Five minutes later the policeman returned.
"This way please, Mr Contadino," he said.
Jeff sat down on the hard plastic chair and swung his long legs under the Formica topped table. He related most of his tale to an apparently uninterested audience. Suddenly the inspector became more animated.
"You said three people were missing, your wife, daughter and a friend."
"Yes, that's right," Jeff replied.
"What's the friend's name?"
"I don't know, I'm guessing. Because of the panties, there were three pairs," Jeff said.
"Would the name Hebbert mean anything to you?"
"No, why?" Jeff asked.
"No reason. Panties, you said panties, am I to assume they left naked?" the inspector asked.
"How the hell do I know? I wasn't there! Panties, three pairs crumpled on the floor, dirty panties, oh god …" Jeff started to sniffle.
"Dirty, what do you mean, dirty?" the inspector frowned.
"You know, stiff, full of… secretions," Jeff motioned vaguely with his hand, pointing downwards.
The inspector blanched a little, his face displayed open disgust.
"Wait here, Mr Contadino, I need to confirm something."
"Sure."
The inspector walked from the room and secured the door quietly. He quickly made his way to the front desk.
"Jack, that Hebbert girl, when did her mother report her missing?"
"Let me see, that'd be Wednesday night, George."
"Wednesday, 48 hours ago, hmmm…"
"What is it George, you think our Yank was involved?" Jack asked.
"Could be, he's a weirdo this one, he's got this thing about panties."
"Panties?" asked Jack.
"Hmmm, bit odd wouldn't you say? Get Lorna to come and join me. I'm in interview room number three."
"Will do, d'you want some coffee?"
"Please Jack, I have a feeling this one may take a while!"
---
Rachael drove aimlessly into the dimming twilight, her eyes scouting the horizons for somewhere to hole up for the night. The van swept past a dull grey stretch of water. Pearl suddenly sat up, pointing through the side window.
"What's that?" she asked.
Rachael stared at the narrow sliver of light half way up the hill on her left. She squinted and then smiled wickedly.
"I have no idea, Pearl, but whoever is up there is about to get three unexpected visitors."
"I can't see how we can get up there," Pearl said.
Rachael glared at her nervous companion.
"Spare me the worry, we'll get up there, you see if we don't!"
A few hundred yards further, and Rachael swung the van violently to the left. The gears ground in protest as the van lurched unsteadily up a rutted track. Rachael was in her element; Pearl on the other hand, hid, peeking out from between her whitened fingers. With a ferocious whoop, Rachael skidded to a halt. Cruelly she laughed at the sound of Virginia's limp body as it bounced around the rear of the van.
"We have arrived! And to prove it, we are here…" Rachael giggled.
"Where, though, what is this place?" asked Pearl.
Rachael reached across and crushed Pearl's cheeks between the thumb and forefinger of her right hand. Savagely she kissed Pearl, and then pulled away.
"That's for you to find out my love, off you go!" Rachael ordered.
"But, it's dark, I, I don't…" Pearl started to protest.
"Yes you do. You can! We can do anything!" Rachael's eyes flashed passionately.
Pearl shuffled her bottom, opened the door and dropped with a sigh on to the damp grass. She glanced back, a short look that silently asked 'Do I have to?' She knew the answer, so shrugging she turned and plodded off to explore.
Rachael started an exploration of her own; she drove her trembling hands under the waistband of her jeans. Urgent fingers separated her slick, wrinkled labia. Rachael grunted as her own fingertips ravished her plump clitoris. 'God I'm so hot, so powerful, nothing can stop me!' Rachael thrust her hips upwards driving her wet digits deep inside her contracting opening. Screaming into the night, Rachael came again and again.
Pearl cautiously tiptoed inside the doorway, running her fingers over the rough wooden door. She slunk along in the shadows, creeping towards the only source of light she could see. Suddenly the light swung her way, blazing directly in her eyes.
"Stop there, who are you? What do you want?" a voice screamed.
"I'm Pearl; I'm looking for somewhere to sleep."
"And you picked here? You must be as desperate as me!"
"Maybe, I am."
"Do you know any first aid, Pearl?" the voice asked.
"No, why are you hurt?"
"Not me, but my friend Lalo needs help."
Pearl walked forward into the arc of light. She looked at the two girls. A pale girl with auburn tresses sat on her haunches, the other girl's head rested limply in her lap.
"Is she dead?" Pearl asked.
"No, she is breathing, just."
"So, she's Lalo, who are you?"
"I'm Cath, can you help?"
"I can't, but I have a doctor with me outside, she might be able to."
"A doctor! Great, go and get her."
"Um, can you help me carry her in? She's unconscious at the moment."
Cath sullenly shook her head in disbelief.
"Lead on, McDuff," she said.
---
Inspector George Clunes stared at his empty tea cup, and then he looked at Detective Sergeant Mills. He winked once, whistled under his breath and spoke in a low melodious tone.
"So, Mr Contadino, erm, Jeff. Now let me confirm what you have told us. You came home, and found evidence of your wife having had an orgy with Lalo your daughter, and one of her school friends. Correct?"
"Yes, that's right."
"Good, now you say that the three of them had been abducted by persons unknown. Correct?" The inspector asked.
"Not unknown, I've told you who I suspect."
"Oh yes, an internationally famed group of superstars! Who happen to be lesbian vampires! I almost forgot…" Clunes let his disbelief show.
"I know it sounds a bit unlikely," Jeff replied.
"Unlikely? Unlikely! I have heard some poor, ill-thought out alibis in my time. But this takes the ticket. Now, how about confiding in us, try telling us the truth."
"I have been."
Clunes stood up, and gripped the edge of the table; his face turned pale with undisguised rage. He extended a shaking finger and went to click off the tape recorder.
"Interview suspended at 21:15, toilet break," he glared down at Jeff, "I am going to evacuate my bladder. I suggest you do the same to your mind. Flush away this vampire crap, and come up with the truth, all right, Mr Contadino?"
Jeff spoke quietly to the Detective Sergeant.
"Has he had a bad day, or what?"
"You are pushing him too far, Jeff, he's bound to get tetchy," she replied.
"I'm pushing him too far! I've had enough of this crap. I will find them myself!"
"You can't leave until Inspector Clunes returns."
"OK, I'll wait for the laughing policeman. I'll tell him what I think of British justice, and then I'll leave!" Jeff spat.
"Good, now settle down, he'll be back in a minute," Lorna advised.
"Sorry, I don't mean to get so twitchy, I'm just upset."
"It's OK, I understand, do you really believe your wife has been taken by vampires?"
"Oh, I don't think Sergeant, I know so!"
"Fine, well, I'm sure we will find them for you."
"You mean it, you believe me?"
"May be, I've heard things on the grapevine…"
At that moment, Inspector Clunes walked back into the room, slamming the steel door behind him.
"What are you both looking so sheepish about?"
---
As Cath followed Pearl's slim form, she wondered at the recent changes in her life. All things taken, she was happier; no that was the wrong phrase 'more satisfied' with her lot. But she had never been so afraid, Mum, her school and all the 'normal' safe things seemed distant memories. It was so exciting and her confidence was growing, but so was her fear; just where was she going?
The cool outside air washed over Cath and stirred her from the reflections on her life. Pearl dashed off to the driver's door of a white van, which was parked nearby. The van trembled as the engine cut out. A shadowy figure emerged from the cab, something about its motion was familiar, that cocky gait, Cath knew she had seen it somewhere…
Once Cath's eyes adjusted to the headlights glare, she was certain, there was no need for an identity parade; it was the usual suspect. Cath stiffened against Rachael's unexpected hug, as confusion masked Cath's young face. Rachael broke away, and then placed a warm kiss on Cath's gaping lips.
"OK sister, what help do you need?" Rachael asked.
"Umm, Lalo's sick, I think she may be dying…"
"That bitch!" Rachael spat, "dying is too good for her."
"I'm serious, Rachael, she doesn't look good."
"I was serious too, petal, but for you…"
Rachael reached out with her hand, still damp from her self-fondling, and stroked Cath's auburn hair. Sensuously she wound a tress around her fingers. Cath reacted to the touch by backing away.
"It's all right Cath, it's no longer an issue; lets just say, the last few days have opened more than my eyes," Rachael laughed.
"Please, just help her!"
"Sure, Pearl, wake up the sleeping beauty--it may be she does have her uses," Rachael ordered.
Pearl scurried away to the rear of the vehicle, several noisy seconds later, she emerged complete with the older woman slumped against her. Cath moved forward and slung the woman's flopping left arm over her shoulder; together the threesome trudged towards the bunker.
"Are you sure she's in a fit state to help anyone?" Cath asked.
Rachael burst into peals of harsh laughter.
"That's the trouble with older woman, Cath, as you'll find out, they have no stamina!"
Cath ignored the jibe, and struggled to get the semi-conscious woman through the restrictive doorway. A surprise awaited Cath when she finally manoeuvred into the dim bunker; Lalo stood at its centre calmly watching the odd procession.
"Lalo! You're OK?" Cath puffed.
"Rachael's arrival woke me," said Lalo.
"Rachael? How did you know?" asked Cath.
"Rachael and I are sort of - connected."
"But not for much longer, you fucking bitch!" Rachael screamed.
Like a swooping Harpy, Rachael flew across the dank bunker, her hands extended, her fingers bent into claws.
"I'm going to rip your eyes out…"
Rachael never got to the expletive in her sentence; her body hit an invisible wall, crumpled slightly, and then flipped, hurtling into the side of the bunker. Winded and crushed, Rachael slid down the wall and sunk to her knees at its base.
Lalo calmly turned her attention to the woman that hung supported between Pearl and Cath. Lalo's right hand rested on Virginia's wavy brown hair. Her eyes closed momentarily and Lalo spoke softly under her breath. Virginia Kemp returned to the land of the living.
This task completed, Lalo swung around regally and glared down at Rachael.
"The days of the playground are over Rachael. Here, I am the mistress, and you are but a novice," Lalo paused, and picked her words, "do you pledge allegiance to me? Or do you still wish to play schoolgirl games? Think carefully before you answer."
Rachael cursed under her breath, she was about to speak, but then paused. Finally, her reply emerged.
"Allegiance."
"Good, that is, for once, a sensible decision."
Lalo stood back and gazed at Pearl and Rachael--the words she spoke came to her from the ether.
"So foul and fair a day I have not seen"
---
"Interview resumed 21:21. Present, Inspector George Clunes, Detective Sergeant Lorna Mills and the suspect, Jeff Contadino."
"Suspect? What do you suspect me of? I'm just here to find my family,"
"Me, I'm suspicious by nature. Must be why I'm a policeman. I'm not sure exactly what I do suspect you of at present. It could be, rape, abduction, false imprisonment, murder or just wasting police time. But be sure of this, I'm going to nail you on one of them."
"I protest! I'm innocent of anything, all I want is help."
"Ah, a cry for help was it?" The inspector asked.
"Listen you fool, I'm going to walk out of that door, and then I'm going to go and try to find my family."
"Sergeant, read Mr Contadino his rights, and make the charge kidnap and suspected murder. Goodnight, Mr Contadino, I hope a night in our cells will cure your fantasies. Tomorrow, we can have a more down to earth chat."
Without as much as a second glance, Inspector Clunes stomped out of the room; behind him he heard the pleasant tones of Lorna's voice.
"You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence…"
George slapped his hands together and rubbed them with glee, this was the big one he had waited for!
How right he was; yet how little he knew.
"I'm coming, hang on!"
Janet shouted pointlessly, at the warbling phone. Finally she reached it, silently amazed that the caller hadn't rung off. 'If this is double glazing, I will kill them!' she thought.
"Hello, Janet Widdowson speaking."
"Hi! Jeff, how are you? What are you doing calling this late?"
"Wait, what do you mean one call? Police, are you in some kind of trouble?"
"They think what?" Janet pulled the phone away from her and stared at it, stunned she put the receiver back to her ear, "Murder, you, but that's…"
"Look calm down, I'll be with you as soon as I can. Have you contacted a solicitor?"
"You idiot, that was what the phone call was for!"
"That's very flattering Jeff, but what can I do?"
"OK, calm down, I'll get dressed and leave now."
"No, no one, I was in the shower, Jeff."
"OK, love you too, see you, bye."
Janet rested the phone back on the table; she studied her reflection in the hall mirror and wondered. 'Could he, would he be capable?' She instantly dismissed her disloyal thoughts. Turned on her heels, and ran up the stairs, clearing them three at a time.
The Impreza WRX purred into life, she gripped the leather covered steering wheel and revved the car into frenzy. One quick check of the digital clock, 22:07, Janet toe poked the accelerator and stormed off her driveway. The Subaru flashed along the A556 towards the M6. Janet swung onto the slip road and pointed her car south, she sighed in relief, for once, the dreaded motorway was clear.
Her relief turned to steely desperation within miles; her performance car, well capable of 150mph, crawled along in the queued traffic. She could just make out the flashing sign; squinting into the distance, it confirmed her worst fears. 'Motorway closed between Jct 16 and 15'. Janet's finger jabbed at the controls of her navigation system - if she went down the A500 she could get across to Derby and the M1. It was way off her route, but it might just be faster than this.
Janet's instinct proved right and the miles thundered past her in a blur of overtaken lorries and cars. Her eyes flitted constantly between the road and the navigation screen. Her drive was temporarily slowed around Oxford and she studied the navigator intensely, junction 13 of the M4 was only 28 miles south. A quick glance at the clock, 0:23, not bad, she might just make it before daybreak.
Her mood darkened over the next few miles though; the journey became tiresome, 'at this rate Jeff will be out on probation before I get there,' she thought glumly. At last she reached the M4, and she opened up the Subaru, true to its STi rating, the car flew forward, hungrily wanting to gobble up the miles to Cornwall. The sound of the siren was most unwelcome; Janet glanced in her rear view mirror as she eyed the blue flashing lights with contempt. For a second, she considered trying to outrun the squad car, but her commonsense kicked in and she slowed to a crawl, pulling over onto the hard shoulder.
Janet just had time to check her lipstick and hitch up her skirt before the expected tap came on the side window. She pressed the button and stuck her head out of the window with her best 'come hither' look on her face. Janet's face fell, just her luck!
The red-haired policewoman smiled back, before bending to address her.
"Good evening Madam, in a hurry are we?" She asked sweetly.
"I am actually, I know I was going a little fast, but a friend of mine is in serious trouble," Janet replied.
"They're not alone; do you know the speed you were doing? It was an average of 126mph over 2.63 miles. Impressive, but also enough for a ban, and even prison, should the judge so wish!"
"But you don't understand, my friend's been arrested," Janet protested.
"For some reason, I don't find that too surprising," the WPC laughed, "you may be too. Now, if you would like to walk to my squad car and get in the rear, we will have a little chat. You can tell me all about your friend. I will tell you all about the fatalities that excessive speed brings to our county."
Janet felt very small as she gazed into the green eyes of the WPC. The policewoman made a few notes, and then talked into her radio.
"OK, so she checks out, fine thanks," the WPC beamed, "so at least it is your car you are burning up Berkshire with. OK, give me the excuse, but I warn you I've heard most of them.
Janet sighed, and began to explain; this was turning out to be a very long night.
---
The bunker was quiet, all lay in darkness, all slept. In the valley below, shadows moved, assuredly following dimmed lights, deliberate but slow in its search. The inside of the limo was not as calm, Les Bitches crowded around Maldea. They took long luxurious draughts of Maldea's life blood. After each vampyres' kiss, her resolve waned further, and in doing so, led them further towards their ultimate prey.
Back in the bunker, someone stirred, awakened by the closeness of danger. Lalo sat up and hugged her knees into her chest. Her breath stuttered out of her body in fearful gasps, tears welled up in her dark eyes. She felt a gentle movement beside her.
"What's up?" asked Cath.
"Nothing, go back to sleep," Lalo whispered.
"It's not nothing; you forget how well I know you."
"My mother returns," said Lalo, flatly.
"Surely that's good?"
"She doesn't want to come here, but she must. She's not alone," Lalo replied.
"Should we go?" Asked Cath.
"It's too late," answered Lalo.
Lalo looked sadly at Cath, and then nodded towards the door. Cath could see a dimly outlined figure, but it was too large to be Maldea. Gradually the room was illuminated by a dull red glow. One after another, the occupants of the room awoke. The atmosphere grew heavy with the sultry scent of incense, a fog of longing descended on the bunker. At long last, the figure moved, raising her hands and sweeping back the edges of her floor length cloak. Slowly, deliberately, she revealed her spectacular curves to her spellbound audience.
"I am Margit; I have come for my acolyte. Make yourself known."
Without hesitation, Lalo stood and turned to face Margit.
"I am here, I am ready…" Said Lalo.
"Good, what is this place - why are you here?"
"We are hiding; Mum said it was best to."
"No, little one, I instructed you to find a remote hideaway. We needed a remote rendezvous, I must admit you excelled; even if this place is a bit austere for my tastes," Margit paused, "now the hiding is over, you are all coming with us, guests of 'Les Bitches'."
A hubbub broke out in the dim bunker.
"Follow me, bring your vehicles, we are going somewhere special."
"Where are we going?" Asked Pearl.
"Who are you, girl?" Margit asked.
"I'm Pearl."
"Come to me, Pearl," said Margit.
Pearl sidled up to Margit; the woman extended an arm and drew Pearl under her cloak and close to her side.
"You will travel with me in the Limo."
"Cool, but where are we going?"
"To the Imperial Hotel Torbay," Margit answered.
"The Imperial! You have rooms there?"
"Rooms, no, we have the whole top floor!" Margit laughed.
"Wow, excellent…"
"Well, let's get there then," said Margit.
She held the door wide open, and silently the assembled, entranced girls' walked out into the still of the night. Virginia followed meekly, for their journey was now hers.
---
He looked around the room as she showed the police to the door, it was a pleasant, if somewhat cramped, living room. He breathed in and let out a low exasperated sigh, what she expected him to do about the situation was beyond him. Still, she had asked him to stay after the police had gone, and he felt, under the circumstances, obliged. He listened to her footsteps coming closer, what could he say? He, the ultimate professional, was as confused as everyone else.
She opened the door and smiled at him, he watched her intensely, searching her face for clues.
"Drink doctor?" She asked.
"No, thank you, I have to drive," he replied.
"Coffee then or tea?"
"No, nothing, thank you, I'm fine."
"OK, do you mind if I do?" she asked, "I need a bit of a lift."
"Of course, understood, it's been a shocking few days for us all."
Jolene returned and placed her generous glass of white wine on the table, before settling down opposite the doctor. Self consciously, she smoothed down her skirt. The doctor blushed, adverted his eyes, and shifted a little uncomfortably.
"How can I help, Mrs Savage? This is more the police's arena than mine now," Dr Fazakerly asked.
"I know, I just don't understand it, you assured me the hospital was the best place for Rachael, and now she has vanished."
"Ah yes, unfortunately it looks as if Rachael was more disturbed than any of us realised!"
"Do you really think my girl abducted this counsellor, and another patient?"
"Well, it looks as if Rachael and Pearl may have been in cahoots, but there's no doubt about the abduction, security cameras can't tell lies."
"But Rachael has never done anything like this before."
"Jolene, I'm sorry, but it was clearly Rachael driving the van," Justin stated.
Jolene dissolved into tears, sobbing deeply.
"Will, will, I see her again," Jolene stuttered.
Dr Fazakerly rose and crossed the room; he sat beside Jolene and slung a supportive arm around her shoulders. She nestled into him and calmed a little.
"The police are treating this very seriously, it shouldn't be too long before we hear," Justin cooed.
Jolene nodded silently and dabbed her tearful cheeks with a tissue.
"Would you like me to give you a sedative Jolene? Sleep can be very restorative," he asked kindly.
"May be, but I have something to ask you first," she said.
"Of course, ask away."
"Ever since that day in the surgery, my life has been upside down. But I have been continuously excited."
"You are bound to be on edge, it has been a very stressful time Jolene."
"No, not like that, you know, excited," Jolene replied, looking hard into the doctor's eyes.
"Agitated, unsettled?" Justin asked, furrowing his brow.
"More like, well… Horny," Jolene smiled.
"Horny!" Justin mouthed.
He moved as far away from Jolene's warm body as he could.
"What happened stimulated you? You are talking about your daughter's assault on you?" Justin asked quietly.
"At the time it sickened me but, her touch, it still burns on me."
Justin watched in horror, as Jolene's fingers probed under her skirt to indicate the offending area. She arched her back, and sucked her breath raggedly through her teeth.
"I will just get you that sedative, Mrs Savage; I think all of this has taken its toll on you."
"I don't want a sedative, Justin, I want a fuck."
Justin Fazakerly launched himself from the low settee; in his rush he inadvertently caught his ankle on the coffee table. He, the table, and the white wine went flying across the room. Justin landed heavily, and his breath whooshed out of him. Dazed and disorientated he lay still, his wide back flattened to the carpet.
Jolene was on him in a second, her fingers tearing at the front of his suit trousers. She ripped the tab on his zip down, and her frantic fingers hungrily plundered his boxer shorts. Before he could raise as much as a protest, she had freed his penis.
"Oh my, Justin I never imagined," Jolene cooed, her eyes widening.
The object of her surprise lay in her hands; it filled both of them, and protruded a good six inches beyond them, he was huge! Jolene's lips touched, and then swallowed the mighty glans. Justin struggled.
"You mustn't, Mrs Savage, Jolene, please!" he gasped.
His body betrayed his words, as his cock unfurled, pushing Jolene's jaws widely apart. He was amazed, his penis still functioned, he had presumed after all these years it was just an accessory. His desire punched him hard; even so, the professional was still to the fore.
"Please stop, this is quite unethical. I can't, you are a patient," he begged.
Jolene stopped her ardent sucking and raised her head.
"Rachael's your patient not me, besides which, do you think we should let this go to waste?" Jolene asked.
Her fingers ran over the pulsing veins of Justin's erection, and then with an ease, that belied her age, she swivelled her body. Grunting with effort, she brought her crotch into firm contact with the rampant head of Justin's prick. Her fingers dragged the damp cotton gusset out of the way, and she drove down, skewering her body on his.
Even now, Justin did his best to hold back. He clenched his buttocks and tried in vain, to dislodge the inflamed tip of his knob from Jolene. It was too late. A combination of her liberal lubrication, and the insane lust that drove her, swallowed him. Despite his reserve, his abdomen contacted, and he pushed back, lodging his glans firmly against Jolene's accommodating cervix.
Together they rutted, for the sex was more animal than human. His inhibition gone, Justin plucked Jolene's breasts free of her blouse, and smothered them with kisses. The coupling was too intense to be lengthy, and seconds later, Justin erupted, filling Jolene with his hot seed. Jolene's slippery fingers found her clitoris, and she followed after him, crying her pleasure as she came.
As the unlikely couple relaxed in their new found love, a different tumescence subsided. The large shaft of red light subsided; it withdrew from the living room, slipped out of the hallway and returned towards Rachael's bedroom.
---
Janet finished her story, she missed out nothing, not the conjecture, not even the pieces she found insane. She blinked and looked deep into the eyes of the police woman; had she believed her?
"Well, that's an impressive tale, worthy of a TV series," the WPC smiled.
"But it's true, most of it, I have had to guess at other parts, Jeff is so secretive."
"With reason I expect."
"Do you believe me?" Janet asked.
"Tell me one thing, what was the name of this rock band in New York?"
"The Bitches, or something, I don't follow that sort of music, I'm more of a classical person."
"Interesting…" the WPC whistled softly.
"Look please, either charge me, or release me, I must get to Cornwall, Jeff needs me."
"I'm not going to do either Ma'am."
"What, I don't understand?"
"I am going to give you a police escort, follow my car. Oh and don't hang around."
"But why?"
"Just call it a favour, I have my reasons," the WPC smiled.
"Thank you… Umm, what is your name?" Janet asked.
"You can call me Helen."
"Thank you Helen."
"Just remember, Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day. OK?" Helen winked.
"Sure, thanks Helen," Janet smiled.
Janet climbed out of the police car and walked back towards her Subaru 'What a weirdo,' she thought.
"Show me Love, 'til it's inside my pores. Show me Love, Show me Love, Show me Love, Show me Love, Show me Love, 'til I'm screaming for more."
Leanne held her mouth open and allowed the water to purge her taste buds of last night's wine. It had been a long time since she had felt this good; all her frustrations seemed a thing of the past. The simple things in life can wash away the deepest of cares. Against her will, Leanne's mind drifted back to the events of the past week.
Suddenly she felt incredibly guilty; how could she be so happy when Cath was missing? Leanne turned off the water with reluctance, 'Ah well, back to reality,' she thought glumly. She wondered for the one thousandth time where her daughter could have gone. The police had been very nice, but she was unsure of their enthusiasm when it came to finding errant teenagers.
Water dripped from her cropped black hair, dampening the collar of her towelling robe, as she crossed the landing and returned to her bedroom. Casually she flung the robe onto the crumpled duvet; her eyes caught her reflection in the wardrobe mirror. Leanne turned and scrutinised her naked body, 'Not bad, even if I say so myself,' she thought. Her hands caressed the rounded globes of flesh, her fingers teasing the nipples to hard buds. For an instant, the fondling halted, 'I really should get on… I can't, but it's been so long…' she chastised herself. A second later her decision was made.
The damp robe was flung to the floor, and Leanne wiggled her body into the softness of the duvet. She spread her legs as far apart as they would go, and let her fingers plunder the soft wetness of her insatiable vulva. Leanne rolled her crinkled labia between her fingers, and spread the wetness along her trembling slit. Her back arched as the soft massage reached the shaft of her clitoris. Leanne was amazed by the bulk of her normally tiny organ; she gripped its head and slowly wanked it with a smooth motion. Her touch was electric, in seconds she came, driving her hips towards the vibrating digits.
Her lust soared. There was no relief. Her left hand fell lower and the fingers crawled into her humid vagina, spreading it lewdly. The trusting fingers found the area, the resistant spongy spot; she was rewarded by a warm squirt of fluid on her flexing palm. Her contracting fists fell into an established rhythm; Leanne's libido expanded. It filled her. It possessed her completely.
A link was created, and the ecstatic, erotic download began; images flooded into her fevered brain. Cath appeared before her, her thighs spread wide, whilst a long female tongue fucked her. Leanne drank in the swell of her daughter's breasts, and her tongue lolled from her twitching lips, stretching, reaching for the imagined nipples. Leanne exploded, ignoring the hot stream of piss that ruined her favourite duvet.
Minutes passed, an hour flew by. Eventually Leanne stood; she gazed down at the wreckage of her bed. Tears stung her eyes as she wept for herself, and her absent daughter. After a while, Leanne staggered from her urine fragranced boudoir. She stomped down the stairs, sadly dragging her soggy duvet in her wake. At the foot of the stairs she halted. The headline on the morning paper screamed at her from the doormat.
'Man Held Over Local Disappearances - Police Concerned'.
---
Janet's tired eyes struggled to stay open, her head nodded momentarily. Suddenly she was much closer to the rear of the police car than she had remembered, 'Come on girl, wakey, wakey!' she thought. Janet brought her right hand down from the steering wheel and slapped her right thigh hard. Her eyes sprung open and her attention was back fully on the road before her. It was not a moment too soon, the Police car indicated and turned into a deserted car park. Janet braked, indicated right and followed Helen's lead. Seconds later, she sighed contentedly, as she turned off the Subaru's throbbing engine.
Helen rapped her knuckles against Janet's driver's window; it slid down silently.
"Are you OK?" Helen asked.
"Yeah, just tired, I almost lost it at the end there."
"Well we're here now, let's see what these West Country plods have to say for themselves."
"Haven't you got to get back?" Janet asked.
"I should, but this is a damn sight more interesting than anything waiting for me in Thames Valley, and I want to help."
"Thanks," said Janet, "you've already done a lot."
"Us girls have got to stick together!" Helen smiled.
Janet linked arms with the smiling WPC and walked towards the Railway Station.
Leanne sat patiently in the reception area watching the early morning comings and goings. The latest arrivals walked in, and approached the counter. The taller uniformed one spoke clearly.
"This is Janet Widdowson. I believe you are holding a friend of hers, one Jeff Contadino, on suspicion of murder."
Before there was any reply from the desk sergeant, Leanne erupted, furiously gesticulating, as she dashed to the counter.
"Jeff! You think Jeff Contadino has murdered my Cathy. Why the hell have I been sat here like a lemon for an hour? 'Nothing substantive' you told me, you bastard!"
The pale-faced desk sergeant swallowed hard.
"Please calm down, Mrs Hebbert, there's nothing to get upset about."
"Nothing to… Are you mad? Cathy's dead and you have the man, but you don't tell me, I repeat, Are you MAD?" Leanne screamed.
"Mrs Hebbert, we don't know anything yet. It's suspected kidnap and murder, there are no bodies or evidence."
Leanne Hebbert turned and launched a desperate attack on Janet; her fists pummelled the surprised woman. Helen snaked her arms around the attacker's waist, and tugged her away from a terrified Janet. Helen caught an elbow in the eye, and reeled backwards. The wild mother was held by another woman, in seconds the cuffs were on. The shocked sergeant led Leanne away.
"You just come and have a chat with me, Mrs Hebbert, we will sort this out," he said.
Helen caught hold of the hand that was extended towards her, and pulled herself to her feet.
"Thanks," she muttered.
"No problem, DI Lorna Mills at your service. Are you both OK?"
"Sure," said Helen.
"More surprised than hurt," replied Janet.
"Well, you are going to have quite a shiner from that elbow. Let's get a cold compress on that now," Lorna advised, "follow me."
Lorna led them through the double doors, and into the female changing room.
"Take off that tunic; we don't want to get your uniform messed up," Lorna said.
Leanne sat glaring at the empty space in front of her; she was livid. 'Just who do they think they are, trying to pull the wool over a mother's eyes?' her thoughts boiled. The door swung open, a white haired, ruddy faced man in a grey suit had joined the thin, pale sergeant. Both of them filed in, the stocky one sat with a slight groan. The silent sergeant remained standing, his back poker-straight against the breeze block wall.
"Mrs Hebbert, Leanne, this is most unfortunate," George Clunes cleared his throat, "allow me to explain."
"Explain away! This had better be good," Leanne spat.
Clunes sighed, cast a withering glance at his sergeant, and began his explanation.
---
Rachael was the first in the crowded bed to awaken; to her immense frustration none of the others would stir, not even one muscle. They were exhausted by the hours of passionate love play. Rachael, on the other hand, was wide awake. Her fretful nature took over, within seconds she was bored, within minutes she rose; Rachael was on the hunt for some excitement.
Rachael pulled her discarded tee-shirt over her head and smoothed it down over her contours. Bare legged, she strode to the hotel door, aggravated by the dull snoring behind her. She stuck her tousled head out of the door and looked to the left and right, 'All clear'. Rachael chuckled and slipped unnoticed into the hotel corridor. A quick tour of her floor was fruitless, it was deserted.
Hesitantly, Rachael pressed the button beside the lift doors. By the time the lift had arrived from the ground floor, her impatience had overcome her common sense. 'Bloody slow thing,' she thought as she entered the small cubicle. Her finger pressed the button for one floor down, Rachael giggled as the lift doors closed.
Lissette Poyle fluffed the pillow, and positioned it with loving care smoothing away the creases. She turned and called out to the other chambermaid.
"Nearly done on this floor, Chrissie, how are you doing?"
When no answer came, Lissette walked to the door of the suite.
"Chrissie, are you there?"
No reply came, but Lissette heard a low painful moan from the corridor.
"Chrissie, are you OK, girl?" Lissette asked softly.
Lissette pulled open the door and poked her head into the corridor, her eyes widened in shock. Chrissie stood, lolling against a guest's door, her legs were splayed crudely open, between them a bare behind bobbed up and down on unknown heel's. Although Lissette could only see a bulge under Chrissie's skirt rather than a head, Lissette's imagination filled in the detail accurately.
"Holy fuck," Lissette said.
Her words were louder than intended, the fabric covered head ducked down and appeared from between Chrissie's legs. One look at the secretion smeared lips, the wild hair and the glowing red eyes was enough. Lissette flew from the recently cleaned room, and headed for the fire escape. In an instant, the wild woman had caught up with her, and floored her with an improvised rugby tackle. Lissette struggled as panic flooded through her, she drew back her free foot and drove it at the mad woman.
A second later, Lissette half hobbled, half hopped, down the steel spiral staircase. Tears streaked her make-up.
Rachael sat holding the prim white shoe in her hand.
"Shit! Never mind, I still have you, don't I?" She muttered as she crawled back towards the reclining chambermaid. Seconds later, the entranced girl began the climb towards her next orgasm.
---
Miles away from the luxurious hotel, another entranced woman shuddered on the verge of her third orgasm. She pushed her slit down hard against the active tongue that speared her lips. Her hands rummaged under the blue serge of a police tunic, busily fingering the spiked nipples. Lorna grunted her passion into Helen's mouth, gasping from the thrashing, muscular organ that circled her clit.
Janet bucked between Lorna's wide open legs, her climax fuelled by her own spasming fingers buried deep in her wetness. The extra motion was enough to tip Lorna over the edge and into the delirium of another high. Helen pushed her tongue down into Lorna's quaking mouth. Helen's eyes flickered open, and confirmed that a dull redness pulsed though Lorna's closed eyelids; satisfied with Lorna's conversion she closed her eyes once more.
The door of the interview room creaked open and a young copper peered in.
"Sergeant, can I have a quick word?"
"God, what now? Back in a minute, George."
"Well?" asked Jack irritably, as soon as the door was shut behind him.
"Disturbance at the Imperial Hotel, Torbay. Some sort of sex maniac attacking staff, sarge!"
"What the hell is going on? Get Lorna out to it, she's trained for rape counselling."
"I would but I can't rouse her…"
"You can't find her, but I know she's on duty, come on pull your act together, Simms."
"Oh I know where she is, I just can't get her to reply." Simms answered.
The young policeman pointed down the corridor at the changing rooms.
"You are too ruddy polite! Watch and learn," the sergeant ordered.
"Umm, she's not alone sarge."
"I don't give a shit; an emergency call takes priority over anything!"
So saying, the willowy sergeant flung open the blue door and strode confidently into the changing room. Simms nipped along the corridor and listened intently, head cocked towards the door.
"What the F… GET DRESSED NOW! YOU ARE ON DUTY… Just, get dressed and then get to the Imperial. They have a sex maniac on the premises. Now you should be more than qualified to deal with it, from what I've just seen." The sergeant's muffled voice was clear enough, even through the closed door.
Simms jumped away from the door as it flew open. Jack Jones, pale at the best of times, emerged, ashen faced.
"Not a word, not one word, Simms. If you ever tell another living soul, I swear I will have you on a charge. Do you understand me?"
"Yes sarge, not a dickie bird, never," Simms replied.
"Good, excellent, continue as normal, Simms."
Jack smoothed his uniform down, and then he noticed how enhanced the bulge in his trouser front was. Strangely stiff legged, the sergeant walked back to the interview room.
"I said that would be all, Simms!"
"Yes sarge, sorry sarge."
Simms turned, and returned to the front counter. He grinned as Lorna and that WPC breezed past him on the way to the hotel disturbance. It wasn't just the memory of Jack Jones; it was the fact that they had been holding hands. A second later, a shame-faced woman arrived in front of the young policeman.
"I'm here to see Jeff Contadino, if I can?" Janet asked.
"Jeff Contadino, are you sure you are interested in a man?" Simms quipped.
"Yes I am!" Janet replied.
Something in her cold blue-grey eyes told Simms to take it easy on the comedy.
"If you would like to take a seat, I will ask for you, Ma'am," Simms replied.
Simms shrugged and walked back towards the interview rooms, 'now Jack's going to love this,' he thought.
Janet heard the word even though she was seated at the far end of reception, at the sound of the single word, her face took on a distinctly pink hue.
"WHAT!"
---
Lalo woke with a start, what was that noise? No, it was not one noise; it was two, a police siren & a fire alarm. Panic broke out in her fuddled mind, 'Shit, the hotel's on fire!'
"Mum, Cath, wake up, the hotel's on fire!" Lalo shouted.
The three of them grabbed some clothes and dashed for the door. The corridor was packed with fearful women in various states of dress. Margit was there, she rose up to her full height and took command.
"Are we all here? Sound off, come on sound off now!" Margit's voice boomed.
The air filled with names, Margit counted, reviewed and then frowned.
"Rachael's missing… I have a bad feeling about this. Spread out, find her, find her now!"
Maldea turned to rush off, but before she could move, Lalo caught her arm. Lalo gazed deeply into Maldea's eyes; her voice was unusually cold when she spoke.
"Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell."
"More Shakespeare, Lalo? What are you talking about? What do you mean?"
"You will see, soon you shall lead us," Lalo said, flatly.
"What, me lead? What, Lalo?"
"Nothing Mum, I don't know."
Margit dashed past them tearing towards the stairs.
"Come on, we have got to find Rachael and get out of here. NOW!"
Shocked into action, Maldea and Lalo followed Margit to the stairs.
Margit threw the fire door wide open and plunged into the stairwell.
The cold scream froze Maldea's and Lalo's blood. They pushed the door open desperate to help their leader. Mother and daughter stopped dead, Margit was staggering around on the landing below the first flight of steps. A snapped broom handle protruded through her back, she staggered and kicked over the metal bucket the broom had been propped up in. Soapy water and blood mixed on the shiny concrete landing. Margit slipped, and toppled down the next flight of stairs.
Her body twisted in the air, and she slammed down back first, onto the next landing down. The broom shaft ripped through Margit's sternum, her piercing scream rent the still dusty air. Lalo looked long and hard at Maldea. There could be no doubt, Margit was dead.
From then on, the physical side of their love had retreated further; the love, the trust and the history that bound them was still there, but the passion? No, it was spent. Wearily, Jeff raised a hand to wipe the dampness from his cheeks. He wept for Maldea, for his love and loss, he wept for himself. Here he lay, a marked man -- and all because he chose to run, rather than stand and fight. That had been a mistake he would never repeat, if he ever had the opportunity.
A rap on the door stirred him from his self-pity.
"Contadino, you have a visitor!"
The door swung inwards and a young policeman stared down at him, his face was unexpectedly sympathetic.
"You had better spruce yourself up a bit; she's worried enough about you already."
A couple of minutes later Jeff stumbled up the corridor behind the young Bobby. He was taken back to the same interview room, but in place of the stern-faced inspector a much more welcome visitor awaited him.
"Janet! Are you a sight for sore eyes."
Seconds later Jeff's breath whooped out of him as Janet flew into his arms.
"I have been trying to tell them they have this all wrong, that you were with me when they all vanished, but will they listen? They think we are in it together!" The words tumbled from Janet's lips.
"You shouldn't have told them. What if Maldea finds out?" asked Jeff.
"Jeff, love, I don't think we are going to be able to keep this secret any longer," Janet replied.
Jeff sat down heavily, his dark haired head sinking into his hands.
"Jesus, what a mess," he groaned.
Over the next half an hour the lovers talked, Janet tried her best to lift Jeff's spirits, but he was inconsolable. Janet had never seen him like this; he was a broken man.
"That's it, back to the cell for you, Contadino."
Jeff looked up in confusion; the fresh-faced copper had been replaced by the pallid Sergeant. Grumbling, Jeff stood; ungraciously he shuffled off, without as much as a backwards glance to Janet.
"Bye, Jeff! Don't worry. I will find a way to get you out," Janet called.
Jeff merely shrugged and walked on.
Janet sat in shock, she was afraid for Jeff; in this state he could do anything. Finally she left the interview room and made her way back to her car, as she passed the reception desk someone spoke softly.
"Here, take this..."
Janet reached out and grasped the clean white handkerchief; she hadn't even realised that she was crying. She smiled wanly at the youthful officer and slipped out into the car park.
Back at her car she was all fingers and thumbs. Janet rummaged through her handbag searching for her keys. At last she held them in her shaking hand and pressed the small protuberance, the car alarm peeped as the doors unlocked. Janet opened her door, but stopped in the middle of swinging herself into the bucket seat. The reason for her hesitation pressed, sharp edged, into her spine. The woman holding the other end of the knife spoke slowly and clearly.
"Now you are coming for a little ride with me, and we are going to talk very honestly about Mr and Mrs Contadino, right?"
"Right," said Janet.
---
Helen swung her police car through the gates of the Imperial Hotel; sitting beside her Lorna let out a low whistle.
"What the hell is going on here?" Lorna asked.
"Looks like more than an assault on a cleaner, that's for sure," Helen added.
In front of the hotel stood two fire engines, and an ambulance. A crowd of women was gathered around the rear of the ambulance. They were furiously arguing with a couple of harassed paramedics. Further back, on the steps of the hotel a large red-faced man stood with his arms cradled around two weeping maids.
Lorna decamped and walked calmly towards the gathered guests and staff.
"Who's in control here?" Lorna asked loudly.
"Christ knows!" piped up one of the struggling paramedics.
"Me I expect," said the rotund hotel manager.
"So what's the story?"
"Members of my staff were attacked by a guest; it would appear one of the band members raced to her aid, and fell -- to her death! Now her friends don't want the paramedics to take her away," The manager puffed.
Lorna swung to face the scrum of bodies behind the ambulance.
"What's the issue here?" Lorna shouted.
A small, dark Hispanic woman walked confidently through the crowd and up to the policewoman.
"The problem is that your fine emergency services wish to take our sister from us. It is not our way. I have tried to explain," said Maldea.
"They are only doing their duty, Madam; there are procedures to be followed."
"But can't you make an exception for me?" Maldea asked.
"I'm afraid not, you see in an unexplained death..." Lorna's voice faded.
Dumbly she gazed down at her hand, cradled as it was between Maldea's tanned palms. Gently the older woman squeezed Lorna's fingers.
"Please," Maldea asked.
Lorna's eyes moved up to stare into Maldea's.
"It is our way," said Maldea.
"Paramedics, listen -- leave the body -- I am taking it into police custody," Lorna interjected.
"Fine by me, I have had enough of these weirdo's. Come on Frank, let's leave 'em to it!" said the senior Paramedic.
"And the best of British to you; these women are insane!" said Frank, as he lowered his end of the stretcher, "we will need this back you know; hospital property."
"I'll make certain it gets back to you. Look, you go -- I'm sure there are people that do want your help out there," Lorna smiled.
"Yeah, true; thank god the worlds not full of nutters, bye love, take care," shouted the senior paramedic as he started the ambulance, "Josh Newey's the name if you need a reference."
"Thanks Josh, bye" Lorna smiled, her eyes struggling to leave Maldea's for long enough to reassure the driver.
"Good, let's get Margit back inside," Maldea ordered.
The trance was broken, and Lorna turned back to the manager.
"Is there a room I can use to interview everyone?" she asked.
"Well there is the conference suite, it's not occupied at the moment," the manager answered hesitantly.
"I'm commandeering it, sir, not offering to hire it," Lorna grinned.
"Of course, my pleasure," the manager sighed.
"Oh, and some coffee please, gratis?" Lorna asked.
"Naturally, on the house, my compliments," the manager replied, sourly, "Erm, you aren't going to take that body in there with you, are you?"
"Would you rather I left it in reception?" Lorna asked.
"No, indeed not!" he replied as Lorna walked past him.
The manager stood on the steps shaking his head in sorrow.
"Really!" he muttered.
---
Janet sat on the aged settee; her eyes never left the swinging point of the knife that weaved to and fro in front of her.
"Do you still need that," Janet asked.
"I don't trust you, any of you, you have taken my girl. You and the police, you are all out to get us!" Leanne growled, "It's always been the same, people after us."
Janet wasn't qualified medically but the paranoid tirade shocked her: this woman had lost it. Janet swallowed hard.
"Now I have one of you, and you are going to pay. Pay for it all!"
"Perhaps I can help you find your daughter?" Janet asked.
"How? Cath's dead."
"No, I don't think she is. Jeff was with me when Cath vanished. He couldn't have taken her."
"With you? Then who took Cath? Where is she?"
"I don't have all the answers, but some - erm -- cult could have taken Cath. Jeff and Maldea upset them when they were in the States."
"A cult, yes that makes sense..." Leanne's eyes hardened, "how do I knows you're not one of 'em?"
"Because I'm here, I have had Jeff taken from me. Just like Cath was taken from you," Janet thought quickly, "maybe the police and the cult are in it together?"
"Yeah, the police and them, bastards! They took Cath."
"That's right, and if we can get Jeff out he can help us find Cath," Janet added.
Leanne jumped to her feet, and rushed at Janet. Suddenly the blade was at Janet's breast.
"Youse is tryin' to trick me, think I'm a country bumpkin do you, city girl?"
Janet watched as the blade rose, Leanne's arm reached its apex. Suddenly the arm swung down, Janet tried to close her eyes but she was unable. Terrified and heart beating hard Janet waited to die, she waited for the fatal blow.
It never came, the knife stopped dead; after a second Janet unlocked her eyes from its tip and glance at Leanne's face. It was frozen in time, a cameo of savage hatred glared at her. Leanne stood perfectly still, looking like a waxwork representation of a female ripper. Janet squirmed against the warmth between her legs, she realised she had wet herself. But she had done more than that; she had somehow completely halted her murderous attacker. What was this power she wielded?
Still shaking, Janet stood and walked around her statue-like attacker. The woman was posed in mid-strike; her arms stretched forwards, her legs splayed. Janet became aware of a scent, a delicious warm fragrance. She tracked its source to Leanne, she was emitting the smell of sex -- the lunatic woman was turned on! Janet felt her groin glow with warmth once more; this time it was not urine; it was something more intimate, more passionate.
Janet walked around in front of the frozen female, and knelt crouching before her. Her hands slid up the outsides of Leanne's legs, under the cotton skirt. Janet's nimble fingers hooked under the sides of Leanne's pants; she gripped and pulled the pants free from Leanne's thighs. Delicious aromas wafted from under Leanne's skirt to tease Janet's sensitive nose. Janet found her mouth watering; she desired nothing more than to fill her mouth with soft female folds. For the second time in a day she fought the perverted desire, and once again, she failed. Acquiescence was faster this time.
Janet tore the pants from Leanne. She stuffed her questing head under Leanne's skirt, splitting it asunder. Her hungry lips fastened onto the bulging slick skin. Noisily Janet sucked Leanne's folds into her mouth; her tongue slavered across pliant flesh hunting out the precious nodule. Once found, the bud was pummelled and twisted by the thrusts of Janet's writhing tongue. Leanne gasped, gulping in lungfuls of air lustily. The knife hung limp in her hand, before dropping point down to skewer the settee's stained cushion.
Groaning, Leanne pressed her most intimate flesh against the accommodating mouth. She screamed as a pre-orgasmic shudder tore through her. Janet revelled in the taste of Leanne's ejaculated fluids. Seconds later her diligent mouth was rewarded with a flood of luscious discharge.
Leanne gripped Janet's head and ground herself against her willing lover. She opened her mouth and gasped her ecstasy as she climbed towards a second climax.
The women forgot their differences, and celebrated their newfound relationship. Soon they would search for their lost ones. For now they satisfied themselves with more explorations of the erogenous.
---
Lorna and Helen observed the assembly of women and girls in front of them; they were a striking bunch, if somewhat off-putting. Margit lay on the stretcher in front of the group, her bloodied body covered by a hotel towel. Lorna pulled herself up to her full height and addressed her unusual audience.
"Right. We have a very serious situation here. I know one of your colleagues has accidentally died, and this is a very sad time for you all, but I have to establish the facts," Lorna took a deep breath, "did anyone in this room assault two of the housemaids?"
A giggle burst manically from Rachael's lips. She immediately hung her head, but her shoulders still heaved with barely suppressed mirth.
Maldea stood.
"There is time for this later; we must tend to Margit, now!"
"Maldea, Margit is dead, she's not going anywhere. I am more concerned at this point with the living," Lorna replied.
"You don't understand, Margit may have somewhere to go…" Maldea paused, "it's our way."
"Your way, your way! Is it your way to sexually assault young women as well? Or to protect those that do?" Lorna scowled.
Lorna's eyes fixed on Rachael.
"Listen to my voice, Lorna, we must tend to Margit, it is our way,"
Lorna swung her head to glare at Maldea.
"I have told you once..." Lorna's voice faded, "it is our way. Yes, it is our way,"
Helen stepped forward.
"Lorna, what are you doing? Procedure states…"
Lorna cut her off mid-sentence.
"I'm the senior officer here! Margit is the priority here -- it is our way."
"Shit, Lorna what's wrong with you?" Helen asked.
"Fuck you, fuck procedure! You aren't even on patch, my word is law here! Now sod off."
Helen saw the insane look in Lorna's eyes and backed off.
"Now let's sort out Margit, Maldea," said Lorna.
"Excellent! Sisters, take Margit outside," Maldea ordered.
Seconds later the French windows were opened, and Margit's body was carried out. The sisters tended to the body, as tradition required. Margit's clothes were stripped away, and her body laid out straight on the lush lawn.
Lorna stood by Maldea observing the ritual.
"What now?" asked Lorna.
"Wait and watch to see if the Wampyr call her," replied Maldea, "it will be quick if I am right."
Lorna watched the women as they returned to the room; their faces gave away nothing. Helen wandered across to join Lorna.
"Can we start the interviews now?" she asked quietly.
"Soon," whispered Lorna, "very soon."
Helen's eye was drawn to an odd glow outside, her eyes widened when she saw its source. Margit's body glowed with a dull red light, and Helen found her eyes drawn to the body. It seemed so much closer, she could make out every pore and blemish on the corpse. Before her marvelling eyes the gaping wounds closed, and the body took on an intense orange glow. Helen could see every nuance of Margit's form; her eyes drifted up the convex slope of her breasts. They rested on the plump tips--slowly but relentlessly the dead tissue erected. Margit's platform nipples begged to be suckled, Helen's tongue ran over her lips, dampening them as if in preparation.
Lorna's eyes were locked onto an even more intimate part of Margit's anatomy. To her delight the glowing labial lips moistened, and swelled. A small dome appeared through the stretched crinkled skin, Margit's clitoris erected savagely. Lorna gasped as her own followed suit. Although the intensity of the glare almost blinded Lorna, she could not tear her eyes from the lewd display. In an instant the garden was filled with light, when Lorna's eyes recovered, Margit's body was gone.
Lorna jumped at the delicate touch of Helen's hand, her sleek fingers twisted Lorna's right nipple. Lorna's breath rasped over her lips.
"Stimulating, isn't it?" Maldea laughed.
Lalo stood beside her mother, her hand buried deeply between her own legs. Maldea spoke in a reverential tone.
"The Wampyr have taken her, Margit was of true vampyre heart."
Lalo heard the words running through her mind, but this time she kept them to herself. Uttering them would be too dangerous in present company. Her mind raced, what did it mean?
'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.' 'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.' 'False face must hide what the false heart doth know.'
More importantly, what on earth did it have to do with her mother?
---
I hope you have enjoyed reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. As always, feedback is appreciated, since it is my only payment for my work.
Please address comments to yotna_eltoub@hotmail.com
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