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Message-ID: <58726asstr$1237281004@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Dreadpirate Tom <dptom@live.com>
Importance: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} Blood Lust, chapters 10-12 (MF,nc, sad, tort, vamp, slow, caution)
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Date: Tue, 17 Mar 2009 05:10:04 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Story codes: MF, nc, tort, sad, caution, viol, vampires, slow

   Author's note: I would like to extend my thanks to those who commented
on the first installment by email or in the assd newsgroup.  The
suggestions that were made had a large influence on how this portion of the
story developed.  Finally, many thanks to Rasec, without whose assistance
in the editing process, this story would have failed and died.

   Blood Lust, Chapters 9-12

   By Dread Pirate Tom

   Chapter 10

   When Tom exited the apartment building, he was immediately blinded by
the flash of more than a dozen cameras.  Blinking away the spots of light
that continued to swim in his vision, he resolutely waded through the
reporters that were closing in on him like a pack of wolves.  He winced as
they bombarded him with questions concerning the debacle of the previous
night.  At least, he thought, it seemed from the content of the questions
that the cover story was holding up.  With a grimace, Tom wondered how long
that would last.

   When he finally reached the relative safety of his car door, he fixed a
polite and blatantly fake smile on his face, "Those are matters involving
ongoing police investigations.  You know that I can't comment."

   Tom laboriously climbed into the vehicle, fearing for a moment that some
of the reporters were actually going to try to get in with him. 
Fortunately, he was spared that indignity.  Once safe behind the thin
sheets of rusted out metal, he started the vehicle and gunned the engine,
leaving the reporters deafened by several loud backfires and coughing in a
cloud of black smoke.

   Tom decided to hit the library first.  On his way there, he entertained
a fantasy in which he sustained Mia on a diet of nothing but sensationalist
journalists.  The journey ended all too soon.

   Tom had been at the Carnegie library for close to two hours, perusing
both the stacks and the net, when his cell phone rang.  Caller id informed
him that it was Mark.

   "How's it going, Lazarus?  Please tell me that you're having better luck
than I am.", Tom said as he answered.



   Mark's loud and boisterous voice burst from Tom's earpiece, "Actually,
boss, things are going pretty damn well.  I thought that I would have a
hell of a time convincing anyone that we had a vampire loose in the city. I
was wrong.  We've all been joking about vampires ever since the first
drained body showed up and, even though we all laughed, apparently the
jokes left nagging doubts in some people.  When I gave my official report
on last night's raid in the briefing room, there was no one laughing at
all. A few people looked at me like maybe blood loss had damaged my ol'
noggin, but quite a few came up to me afterwards to quietly ask what I
thought we could do to put an end to this.  A lot of them had helped to
clean up the mess last night and they want payback.  I took down the names
of those who are willing to help us out and I'll text those over to you in
a bit.  We have nineteen so far."

   Mark paused for a moment and then continued in a far quieter tone, "Tom,
just so you know, in my official report and in my little talks afterwards,
I told everyone that it was our male perp that did all that killing and
that the female perp actually saved me.  I suppose the latter is true
enough; maybe even twice over.  I thought that maybe this would help pave
the way for when we introduce Mia to the team.  Before you say thanks, I
want you to know that I did it because it seems pretty damn obvious that
we're going to need Mia to see this thing through and this is going to be
tough enough without having to deal with resentment and distrust in the
ranks.  Don't get me wrong, Mia seems like a nice enough girl and all, once
you get by the whole fangs and feeding on human blood thing anyway, and I
see the way you look at her, but if we didn't have the big baddy still
running around loose...  Well, I would do my job."

   With a sigh, Tom responded, "Yeah.  This isn't exactly the easiest
situation, is it?  Whatever your reasons, though, I do appreciate it. 
Thanks."

   "No problem, boss.  Another thing that you really need to know is that
one of our believers is the Chief.  He pulled me aside and asked me if I
had any idea of how to resolve our situation.  I told him that we were
working on it, showed him my list of names and told him that you were going
to be procuring some weapons that we had reason to believe would be
effective.  He authorized me to pull our little team whenever we needed and
told me that overtime wouldn't be an issue.  He also told me to tell you to
use the department's card when you go shopping.  He said that he can hide
anything up to ten grand in the 'miscellaneous' portion of the budget. 
Obviously, he wants to keep any word of vampires from the press, so the
quicker we get this done, the happier he'll be."

   Mark paused for thought for a moment, "I think that's about all I have
to report.  So, I'm guessing that things aren't going well at the library?
You do know that proper library usage requires that you know how to read,
right?"

   "Funny.  But, yeah, I'm striking out here.  I guess that I had thought
that I could waltz right in and there would be something like a big yellow
'Vampires for Dummies' book waiting for me.  The truth is downright
depressing.  Most of the stuff in the stacks on vampires is in the fiction
section, Bram Stoker, Anne Rice and the like.  Not exactly a great source
of factual information.  The stuff in the non-fiction section is all about
narcissistic kids who pretend to be vampires.  Also useless to us.  And,
finally, all the stuff on the web seems to be unlikely fap stories written
by third rate writers.  I had been hoping to get a head start before Mia
wakes up, but I'm about to give up."

   "Ok, boss.  Unless you need me for something else, I was going to head
home for a while.  Seems that I, uh, sorta forgot to tell Jenny when I was
discharged from the hospital.  She arrived for visiting hours and found an
empty bed in a cleaned out room.  Lets just say it freaked her out a
little. I need to go smooth things over, prove I'm not dead, that kinda
thing.  Of course, I think I'll let her believe that my recovery was the
result of some divine miracle rather than telling her that it was because a
lovely young woman licked me all over.  Anyway, I'll see you around dusk."

   "Ok, Mark.  By the way, were the reporters outside my building when you
left?"

   "Oh.  Yeah.  I thought about giving you a call and warning you about
that, but I know how much you love surprises.  Oh, hey!  I almost forgot.
One of our merry band of vampire hunters is qualified as a sketch artist.
Would you mind if I brought her with me to talk to Mia?  I was so busy
looking at the guy's big fucking claws that I didn't really get a good look
at his face.  I figure Mia will be able to help us put together a picture
that we could pass around."

   "Yeah, I guess that would be ok.  Good thinking.  Take care, Mark, and I
will get you back for not telling me about the reporters."

   After Tom left the library, he traveled across town to Phil's Archery,
where he took advantage of the Chief's generosity by purchasing a number of
composite bows and crossbows.  He tried to get as many crossbows as
possible as he figured that the learning curve for their use would likely
be a little better.  Damn things were expensive, though.  Ammunition was
something of a problem.  Not many archers used wooden arrows or bolts
anymore, so Phil's stock of these items were low.  On the bright side, Phil
did have enough to at least get them started and promised that he could
have as many as Tom wanted within two days.  Tom put in an order for 500 of
each, just to be safe.  Before he left the store, Phil, pleased over the
size of the sale, was kind enough to give Tom a crash course in bow and
crossbow usage and maintenance at the indoor range attached to the back of
the store.

   Finally feeling as though he was accomplishing something, Tom next went
to the Apparel Warehouse in the strip district to pick up a few pairs of
jeans, a couple of t-shirts, a pair of running shoes and some socks and
underwear for Mia.  The poor girl would need something to wear other than
what she had on and they obviously couldn't retrieve her things from the
site of a huge mass murder investigation.  His selection didn't exactly fit
what he knew of her style, but Tom figured comfort and durability would be
more important in the coming days than elegance.

   The station was Tom's last intended stop before going home.  There he
checked Mark's text message and used it to locate the men and women it
identified.  He was lucky; eight of the team were experienced bow hunters
and even had their own gear.  He had the remaining eleven come out to his
car in twos and threes to pick out a weapon and ammo to go with it.  Once
everyone was armed, he left them with the suggestion that it would be a
good idea to get to the range and have the more experienced men teach the
others how to use the archaic weapons.

   On his way home, Tom, acting on sudden inspiration, made a quick detour
to the hardware store where he purchased a number of inch thick oak dowel
rods.  Satisfied at last with his medieval arsenal, he made it to his
apartment with less than a half hour to spare before dusk.

   When Mark stomped through Tom's front door fifteen minutes later, a
pretty, young, uniformed patrolwoman with a laptop under her arm in tow, he
found Tom sitting on the living room couch, inexpertly using a kitchen
knife to whittle a point onto the end of one of the dowels.  Mark stood
watching his friend for a moment before asking, "Stakes?"

   "Sort of.  I was thinking we could use them like pikes to hold our big
baddy, as you called him, at bay or at least keep him from charging at us."

   Mark grunted, "Good idea." Realizing that the patrolwoman was standing
awkwardly beside him, he quickly gestured between the two, "Detective Tom
McNelly this is Officer Dana Smith and vice versa."



   Tom glanced at the woman, "Yeah, we met at the station earlier.  Good to
see you again, Dana."

   After a little more polite chit chat, Mark plopped himself in Tom's
recliner, pulled a swiss army knife from his pocket, and, after helping
himself to a dowel, began whittling.  Dana soon joined Tom on the couch and
started carving her own dowel with a utility knife taken from a pouch on
her belt.

   After a few minutes passed, Dana asked, "Aren't we supposed to season
them over an open flame or something?"

   "Hell if I know.", Tom replied, "I missed the class at the Academy on
the finer aspects of spear making." Shifting his attention to Mark, he then
asked, "How are things with Jenny?"

   Mark rolled his eyes, "When I left home, she was on her way to church to
offer thankful prayer for my miraculous recovery.  She's still pretty
pissed that I didn't call and tell her I was discharged, though.  Women
just can't see the humor in things.  She'll come around, though.  She's a
fine gal."

   The group returned to their crude woodworking for a few minutes before
Mark asked, "Any thoughts on where we're going to set our trap?"



   Tom replied, "I have a few ideas, but I'll need to confirm some things
with Mia, and make sure she's willing to serve as bait, before there's any
point in tossing one out for a final decision."

   "Isn't she about due to wake up or, well, whatever it is she does?"

   "I'm guessing so.  I didn't think to ask her how dark it needs to be
before she wakes."

   Chapter 11

   For once when Mia awoke, she didn't need to extend her senses to be able
to tell that she wasn't alone; she could easily hear the two men bickering
and bantering in the next room with occasional input from a feminine voice.
Mia stretched, luxuriating in the feel of the soft bed beneath her.  Her
cramped dark casket was safer, but this certainly had its advantages as
well.

   Rising, she focused her will slightly to put her hair in place and
started to walk to the living room when she noticed a pile of women's
clothing with a post-it affixed to the top.  She was easily able to read
the message even in the dim light, "I left this here because I wasn't sure
when you would wake.  I picked up some things to tide you over until we can
go shopping together.  If you'd like, you know where the shower is.  T."
Mia smiled and began poking through the stack.

   Several minutes later, she walked barefoot into the living room wearing
a pair of jeans and a Clarks t-shirt.  Both men and the woman looked up
from where they were carving points on sticks and greeted Mia with smiles,
though the woman's was quite cold.  Tom held out an arm in invitation.  Mia
bent forward for a quick embrace and a light kiss, marveling again at how
different this night was from the thousands that had preceded it.

   Tom, with occasional input from Mark, quickly brought her up to speed on
the preparations they had made during the day, and introduced her to Dana.
As Mia digested the information, Tom asked, "Would you mind working with
Dana for a few minutes to help us get a picture of Arthur?"

   Mia readily consented and the two women moved to the kitchen table,
pointedly ignoring the fast food containers and dirty dishes which
eloquently demonstrated that Tom was indeed a bachelor.  Dana quickly got
the laptop with its complex graphics software up and running; the term
"sketch artist" was something of an anachronistic misnomer in this day and
age.

   Outwardly, Dana worked with cool professionalism, but Mia could sense
the disquieting and often violent images running through her head; one of
the most prevalent being the image of Dana impaling Mia with one of the
crude spears.  Even worse for Mia, the scent of fear that rolled off the
woman in waves was exciting her predatory instincts.  Between this and the
pain that her assistance cost her, by the time they had a reasonably close
image of Arthur pieced together, Mia was seething with resentment and
anger.

   At last, after confirming with Mark and Tom that the image was to be
distributed to all patrol cars with orders to report any sighting
immediately but to make no attempt at arrest, Dana stood to leave.  As Dana
turned to nod farewell to Mia, a final improbable and violent image from
Dana's mind caused Mia's anger to boil over.  Mia returned the woman's nod
with a wide smile, her fangs sliding into place.  Dana paled and fled the
room.

   With a sad sigh, Tom asked Mia quietly, "Was that really necessary?"

   Mia returned hotly, "No, I suppose not, but she annoyed me.  The entire
time we were working, she kept fantasizing about impaling me with one of
your glorified curtain rods.  It pissed me off."

   Tom nodded in sympathy and replied, "I understand, but think of things
from her perspective.  She worked on the composite of you that went around
the station yesterday.  She knows that composite was done in connection
with the investigation of more than one murder.  She was listening on the
radio when the SWAT team reported sighting a male and a female perp during
the raid yesterday evening.  She helped pick up the pieces, sometimes
literally, last night.  She's far from stupid.  She knows that you were
somehow involved with the death of quite a few of her friends, even though
Mark told everyone that it was Arthur who did the actual killing.  She even
knows that you're a vampire.  Despite all of this, she was willing to come
here knowing that she would be working with you.  She, and the rest of our
team, are putting our collective goal ahead of any personal feelings."

   Mia slumped with a look of mild embarrassment on her face, "You're
right. Please tell her that I'm sorry.  I've never really worked as part of
a group before, but I am trying."

   Tom pulled her into a tight embrace, "I know you are, Mia.  We're all in
new territory here, it'll take some getting used to."

   After a moment, Tom released her and asked, "Would it be ok if we asked
you some questions?  If answering any of them will cause you pain, just let
us know and we'll move on."

   Mia shrugged, "Any information that I could give you that will be of any
use will be, at least to some degree, a betrayal of my Mas, err, of Arthur.
It's ok.  I'm accustomed to pain.  It's far easier to endure when it's for
a good cause." The faces of both men drooped in sympathy.

   They all sat silently for a few minutes, neither man apparently willing
to start asking questions when they knew that answering would hurt her. 
Mia looked back and forth between them expectantly for a while before
finally blowing out a mouthful of air in exasperation.  Crossing her arms
across her chest as a bulwark against the pain she knew was coming, she
started, "How about if I just start with the basics, and then you can ask
questions as needed."

   At nods from both men, she continued, "From the moment a vampire is
created, it is far stronger, faster and more agile than it ever was in
life. All senses, sight, sound, hearing, taste, and touch, are also
enhanced.  As a vampire ages, all of these things improve.  The difference
from one year to the next isn't that impressive, but over the span of a
century the accumulation is very significant.  Age isn't the only factor
for determining the strength of an ability; there are individual variations
between us.  For example, my sense of smell is far better than Arthur's,
even though he is a lot older than I.  On the other hand, he is physically
stronger than I could ever hope to be, even if I survived for a thousand
years.  We also develop a few abilities like nothing we had as a mortal. 
Foremost is the ability to change, but we also have a very short range form
of telekinesis and can extend our senses remotely.  The influence of the
telekinesis is limited to things on or in very close proximity to our
bodies; for example we can clean or repair clothing, reorder our hair and
open locks if we're touching the key hole.  The extension of senses is like
a short range clairvoyance.  I can extend mine roughly fifteen meters. 
Arthur maybe twenty.  "

   Now that the ice had been broken, Mark leaned towards her, "Tom told me
that he thought that maybe you could tell where your, uh, Arthur, is.  That
so?"

   Mia replied, "I can tell which direction he is in, but can't tell you
how far.  I'll know if he moves closer or further away, but I don't know
what good that will do you without knowing the start point."

   Tom pursed his lips in thought, "Which direction is he now?"

   With a wince of pain, Mia gestured to the southwest, "That way, moving
slightly away from us."

   "So, he's not coming for you at the moment, at least.  Would you be able
to lead us to him?", Mark asked.

   "Well, I could.  However, I wouldn't be able to pinpoint his location
until we got extremely close, say within twenty-two sachine, err, excuse
me, fifty meters.  I wouldn't even know that we were getting anything but
relatively closer until then.  That near, all it would take would be a
whisper from him and you would have two vampires to fight.  On a related
note, I should also tell you this: He was happy that the battle with your
men happened.  He wanted to be exposed.  Now that he is, he won't be hiding
anymore.  His daytime resting place will be well guarded, most likely by
mercenaries.  Robbing his victims for centuries and carefully investing
those gains has left him with nearly limitless resources for hiring them. I
also would not be surprised if he starts making new fledglings.  So, if you
go for him at night, you need to be ready for one hell of a fight.  It will
take, at the very least, overwhelming numbers."

   Tom gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, but focused his attention on
Mark, "Triangulation.", he said simply.

   At Mia's look of confusion, Mark explained, "We take you around the
circumference of the city and have you point in his direction from several
known points.  We get out a map, draw some lines, and, bingo, we know where
he is."

   Mia nodded her head slowly.  "That could work, but I expect that he will
be on the move the entire time he is awake rather than sitting around
waiting for us to show up.  During the day, when he is in his new lair, I
won't be of much help."

   Tom's shoulders slumped slightly.  "Ok.  Do you think he'll come looking
for you?"

   Mia shivered, "Yes.  That is almost a certainty.  Whether it's to
reclaim his lost toy or to punish me for my betrayal of him, he will come."

   Far more gently, Tom asked, "When he does, would you be willing to be,
well, bait is really the only way to describe it?"

   Mia nodded quickly, "Of course.  When he comes for me, I would much
prefer that he walk into a trap than that the alternative occur.  If we do
set such a trap, though, you must make certain that I am tightly secured.
Thick chains would probably be best.  Otherwise, when he comes....."

   "Understood.", Tom said.  He flicked his eyes toward Mark.

   "I'll pick some up from maintenance, boss.  No problem."

   Tom next asked, "Well, you've told us that wood and sunlight can kill
vampires.  How about full spectrum lights?"

   "We actually tried that on a feral a few decades ago.  It didn't work.
My theory is that it's not a physical property of the sun that does us harm
but a spiritual one."

   "Feral?", Mark asked.

   "When a vampire creates another, he can do it in two different ways. 
The first is by feeding his own blood to his victim as the victim is dying.
In this case, the fledgling will rise with mind intact.  If, however, a
vampire simply feeds on a person and does not disconnect the brain from the
body, that person will likely rise, but will be nothing but a mindless
animal.  Ferals are extremely hard to control and very dangerous.  Their
strength and speed are far greater than those of a normal fledgling of
equal age.  For these reasons, ferals are usually only created by mistake."

   Tom's eyes widened in sudden understanding, "So that's why the victim's
necks were broken."

   Mia nodded.

   What about things like garlic, crosses and holy water?", he then asked.

   Mia shook her head, "The belief that holy objects have power over us is
only superstition.  Arthur told me that there are some of our kind who were
very religious in life.  Because of their strong beliefs, holy symbols of
their specific faith could cause them -oh, what's the word?  -
psychosomatic injury.  Arthur's not like that.  On the other hand, I can
tell you from personal experience that garlic causes extreme skin
irritation that takes a while for even us to heal.  But while it interfered
with my ability to change and hurt like hell, it wasn't fatal."

   "You mentioned change earlier.  What does that mean, exactly?", Tom
asked.

   To demonstrate, Mia raised her hand, her eyes squinting in
concentration. The skin on her forearm and hand rippled and formed
chitinous spikes as her fingers and nails elongated to form sharp claws. 
Both men shied back with widening eyes.  She concentrated again and lowered
her now normal hand back to her lap.  "Change.", she said.

   Chewing on his lower lip, Mark said, "Garlic could be useful.  We could
use garlic water like mace, maybe.  Might make him at least a little less
dangerous."

   Mark's eyes suddenly narrowed, "Hold on a sec.  You said that holy
symbols don't have any effect but that a spiritual property of the sun
does. Isn't there a bit of a contradiction there?"

   Mia shook her head, "Spirituality and religion are hardly synonymous or
even necessarily compatible."

   Hastily seeking to head off the brewing religious argument between Mia
and his devout Catholic friend, Tom asked, "Can you read minds, Mia?"

   "I can read surface thoughts, mostly in the form of images, and blur
recent memories.  I can also use a form of compulsion to plant limited
suggestions, but they will only be followed as long as they aren't
completely at odds with the person's desires.  Arthur's abilities in this
area are much stronger.  He can control a single person completely.  He can
root through all of your memories and make you relive any of his choosing.
He can also completely erase entire weeks from your recent memory."

   "Is there any way to keep him out of our heads?", Tom asked.

   "Not that I know of."

   "On a more personal note, Mia, would you be willing and able to live off
animals?", Tom asked in a casual tone.  Mia could tell from the way his
scent shifted to reveal intense anxiety that his interest was anything but
casual; to Tom this might be the most important answer of the night.

   Mia shrugged her shoulders helplessly, "As far as being able, I really
don't know.  Not long after my Change, when my Master was teaching me what
it is to be a vampire, he told me that we could live off of them for a
time, but that we would slowly starve until we went mad from hunger. 
Whether he was telling the truth, I do not know.  I am willing to try. 
Just so you know, though, feeding means nothing unless a life is taken.  I
could never drain, say, a cow, enough to benefit from the feeding.  Any
animal we try this with will have to be roughly the size of a person."

   Tom looked over at Mark, "Do you remember that cadet you mentored a few
years back?  The one that moved out to the 'burbs right after training and
was heavily into 4H.  You still keep in touch with him?"

   Mark replied, "I remember him.  His name was Peter Black.  I haven't
really kept in touch; we exchange Christmas cards and that kinda shit, but
that's it.  I see where you're going, though.  I'll look up his number and
give him a call."

   "Thanks, Mark.", said Mia, a smile brightening her face.  "You have no
reason to want to help me, so I really appreciate that you are."

   "No problem.  Don't forget that I do owe you a couple.", Mark answered.
"By the way, how long will it be until you need to feed again?"

   Mia shook her head slightly, "Less than a week.  It depends on a lot of
factors.  How much vitality the food had, the amount I use my abilities,
and whether or not I sustain any injury are a few."

   "How many of your kind are there, Mia?", Tom asked.

   "I'm sorry, but again, I really don't know.  Arthur has spoken of
others, including the one that made him, but I have never encountered
another besides him."

   Again they sat and looked at each other silently for a few moments, but
the men had exhausted their current supply of questions.  Finally, Mark
brought his palms down on his thighs with a resounding smack.  "Ok.  Recap
time.  The big, bad vamp isn't coming for our pretty little Mia just this
moment.  Going after him at night would be a really bad idea.  So, what are
we going to do?"

   Tom ran his fingers back through his hair with a sigh, "As much as I
hate the idea of reacting to him rather than taking action of our own, I
don't see that we currently have any other choice.  Even if he stays in one
place long enough to fix his position, our team hasn't had enough practice
with their new weapons to have a prayer of taking him out in the open. 
Until he makes a move to come for Mia or someone calls in a sighting, I
guess we do nothing.  So, let's contact our team and tell them to go home
and get some sleep.  Lets divide the team between us.  If and when
circumstances change, I'll call you first and then we'll each call the team
members on our list.  Once the call goes out, everyone is to muster at the
County Courthouse and Jail.  Oh, and if the call goes out tonight, call the
courthouse and make sure that the entrance and lobby are evacuated.  I'll
set up something more permanent with them tomorrow."

   The two men quickly divided their force in two, and made their
respective stand down calls.  Once they were finished, Mark said, "Well, if
that's everything, I guess I'll head on home to the missus.  I still have
some making up to do."

   Once Mark had left, Mia and Tom snuggled closer together on the couch,
each taking comfort from the simple presence of the other.  Thinking about
the number of times he had seen her face wince in pain during the question
and answer session, Tom asked quietly, "Are you, ok?"

   Mia looked up from his shoulder with a small smile, "Believe me, I've
experienced a lot worse." She cuddled more firmly into his chest, "I'm
feeling better already."

   For a long while, the two sat there on the couch, exchanging more gentle
questions and answers, each learning of the other as a person, but finally
Tom's lack of sleep began to show.  Despite his best efforts to stay awake,
Tom's eyes were soon too heavy to keep open and his head nodded back and
forth as if on a string.  Mia watched this with amusement for several
minutes before she laughed and said softly, "Why don't you go get some
sleep?  I'll be perfectly content watching tv or reading a book.  If Arthur
starts to move in our direction, I'll come wake you."

   Tom was so exhausted that he had no choice but to accept Mia's proposal.
After giving her a lingering kiss, he stood and headed toward his bed.  "If
you need anything, Mia, even if you're just feeling lonely and want to
talk, don't hesitate to wake me.", he called out as he stripped and climbed
under the comforter.  He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

   Mia did try to watch tv for a time and even poked through Tom's rather
large collection of books, but she was too excited for such petty
diversions to keep her attention for long.  She was free!  At least for the
moment.

   After she had explored every square inch of the apartment outside of the
bedroom, Mia at last gave into temptation and moved quietly to the bed
where she stretched herself out next to Tom.  She turned on her side so she
was facing him and propped her head up on her palm.  Idly she wondered if
she were falling in love.  She had no frame of reference to use for
comparison; even in life the emotion had been a stranger to her.  Prior to
the day of her Change she had, of course, been married for years; the women
of her village had been married at almost the exact moment that they
flowered, the marriages arranged almost at birth.  She supposed that she
had felt some affection for her husband, but the fact that the marriage had
not been of their choosing along with the fact that it did not bear fruit
kept any real intimacy from developing.

   After her Change, she had known only pain and hate and loathing.  With a
shudder, she forced her mind away from the consideration of that dark,
endless time and returned her thoughts to the man before her.  She was
being silly and more than a little pathetic, she decided.  She had only
known him for a few days and she considered herself to be far too jaded and
world weary to give any credence to the notion of love at first sight. 
Nevertheless, she found that his mere presence made her feel joy such as
she had only rarely known before the Change and never after it.  When he
spoke, all she could think about was the way his lips had felt when pressed
against hers.  When he looked at her, she felt like she was melting inside.
When they were apart, she could barely concentrate on anything as her mind
endlessly filled with thoughts of him.  Since he had entered her dreary
existence her dread of the future had faded to be replaced by another
emotion with which she had previously had only passing acquaintance: Hope.

   With a start Mia realized that she had been lost in thought for hours.
She quickly felt along the bond that connected her to Arthur.  He was still
distant and, although lust and a sort of oily smugness were filtering back
through the bond, there was no sign that he was coming for her.  Mia turned
back to Tom and decided that he had slept long enough.

   Softly, so as not to wake him, she eased the comforter down his body
until it was pooled in the vicinity of his knees.  For a moment she just
looked at him, a gentle smile on her lips, then she twisted around on the
bed until she was perpendicular to his hips, her legs tucked beneath her
stomach.  Her hair fell in soft waves over his pelvis and she gently moved
her head back and forth, dragging the silken strands across his upper
thighs and soft manhood.  At the soft, slightly tickling, caress, Tom
shifted and murmured in his sleep.  With another smile, Mia pulled her hair
up so that it lay down her back before extending her tongue and lowering
her slightly pouted lips to his flesh.  She traced her tongue lightly
around the base of his scrotum, savoring the salty taste and musky smell of
his skin.  Shifting her head slightly, she ran her tongue over the wrinkled
skin of his sack, pausing momentarily to suck one of his testicles gently
into her mouth before sliding her tongue to the base his still flaccid
member.  In its current state, she was able to easily take his entire
length into her mouth where she sucked it softly while swirling her tongue
over its entire surface.  As it grew in her mouth, she concentrated the
movements of her tongue increasingly on his glans, occasionally teasing the
hole at its end with the tip of her tongue.  When it became fully hard, she
sighed in excitement at the sound and feel of the life pulsing just beneath
his skin.

   Tom came awake with a long, drawn out moan.  Mia felt one of his hands
caress her head and the side of her face before running down the length of
her back.  For a moment she could sense images of the wound she had
inflicted on the drug dealer flashing through his mind, and fear warred
with the combination of his arousal and his growing trust in her.  The
still hard flesh in her mouth left no room for doubt as to which emotions
were victorious.

   Mia shifted her body around so that she was lying between his legs,
which he readily spread to accommodate her.  She grinned mischievously
around his member as she looked up his body to meet his eyes.  He returned
her smile while softly brushing the hair from her face.

   Mia suddenly realized that, for the first time ever, she was with a man
whom she wanted to please and who knew and accepted what she was.  The
wicked possibilities of the situation made her grin grow even wider.

   She concentrated for a moment and small prehensile tentacles, like a
hundred tiny tongues, sprouted from the surface of her tongue, her inner
cheeks and the roof of her mouth, each of them softly caressing the flesh
of her lover.  Shivers of ecstasy ran up and down Tom's body and he threw
back his head in pleasure.



   Mia began to bob her head slowly up and down his length, never ceasing
the tender movement of the tiny tongues across whatever portion of his cock
was encased within her oral cavity at the moment.  With sudden inspiration,
Mia concentrated again and two of the tongues lengthened, stretching down
to lovingly and lightly lash at his balls.

   As Tom's legs began to tremor and shake, Mia sensed his overwhelming
need to climax.  In response, she bobbed her head with ever greater
rapidity while slightly increasing the pressure being applied by her new
appendages.  Suddenly, she could feel every muscle in Tom's body go rigid,
his hips thrusting upwards.  She took him in as deeply as she was able and
felt liquid warmth erupt into her mouth.  As his climax faded, she swabbed
her tongues one last time over his member, cleaning it of every last drop
of his salty essence.

   Tom grasped her arms and gently began to coax her upwards.  Realizing
that the sight of her changed mouth could well be horrifying, regardless of
how it had made him feel, she resisted for a moment while she focused her
will enough to return her flesh to its normal state.  Afterwards, she
crawled happily up his body and into his embrace.  He held her tightly to
him and kissed her deeply, easing one of his hands beneath her shirt to
lightly scratch at the skin on her back.

   As he gazed softly into her eyes, Mia, acting on sudden impulse, timidly
extended her senses.  What she discovered made her eyes go wide in wonder:
his feelings for her matched those she had for him.  Basking in the sudden
warmth that suffused her body, a warmth that had nothing to do with body
heat, Mia joyfully snuggled her head into his chest, planting small
fluttering kisses everywhere she could reach.

   Tom began to move beneath her and she could sense his intent to give her
pleasure, not as a quid pro quo for what she had just done, but simply
because he desired her happiness.  She stopped him with a kiss.  "Just hold
me, Tom.", she said languorously, "You can't imagine how good it feels to
be held."

   She could feel his smile against the crown of her head as he replied,
"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea."

   They lay entwined for a long, joyful eternity before the moment was
broken by the loud ringing of Tom's cell phone.  They both turned to look
at the clock; it was nearly 3 a.m.  Suddenly tense, Tom answered.  Mia
listened to his side of the conversation, "Yes, Chief...  Good Lord... 
I'll get the men together and be right there.  Could you make sure that no
one goes in before we arrive?...  Thanks."

   Tom looked down at her soberly, "There's been an incident and it sounds
bad.  From the sound of it, there is a remote chance that Arthur is still
in the area.  It would probably be safest if you stayed here.  I'll jot my
cell phone number down.  If you can feel him heading in your direction,
call me."

   Mia nodded her agreement and watched as he dressed and made a number of
phone calls to assemble his task force.  Then, after a quick embrace and a
kiss, he was out the door.

   Chapter 12

   Arthur gazed out across the city skyline from the top of Mount
Washington.  "This city really is aesthetically pleasing.", he thought,
"It's almost a shame what I'm going to do to it." He had spent the earlier
part of the evening meeting with several mercenaries he had done business
with years ago in New Orleans during a period when he had been aggressively
hunted after overindulging himself.  He had called them the night before
and, for the amount of money he was offering, they had been willing to fly
in immediately.  Arthur had, of course, spent a large part of the meeting
planting suggestions in their minds to insure their absolute loyalty and to
prevent any moral qualms from interfering with their duties.

   For a moment he was distracted by the emotions feeding back from his
bond with Mia, forcing him to contemplate her fate.  He would have to
destroy her for her treachery, he decided, no matter that he had pushed her
to it.  He would, however, postpone it for a few nights.  Even in such a
short time, she would begin to hope that she would live, to hope that she
would retain her freedom, to hope that her apparent newfound love could
continue.  Looking into her eyes as those hopes were crushed would make her
death far more satisfying.

   He turned his thoughts to the confrontation the night before.  He was
faintly irritated with the city and its police force over the matter.  He
had very publicly exterminated a significant number of policemen, but they
had still managed to keep the event relatively quiet.  Oh, they hadn't
tried to hide the loss of their elite unit, but they had attributed it to a
well armed gang hopped up on meth.  The truth would come out eventually,
Arthur knew; he had felt the terrified minds of the neighbors peering out
from behind nearly drawn curtains.  But the exposure of the authorities'
lies would take time and he was growing impatient, if not for the reason he
had expected.

   He still wanted to force his Maker to expose herself, but now, even
more, he wanted war.  He was weary of hiding in the shadows, tired of
limiting his feeding on the weak and poor and morally bankrupt.  He
relished the thought of combat with enemies who knew what he was.  For so
long his existence had lacked challenge.

   His thoughts were interrupted by a soft contralto voice.  "I assume that
it is no coincidence that you are in my city?"

   He spun around, startled, staring at the diminutive Asian woman who had
spoken.  Her long black tresses hung to her hips, perfectly straight and
shining slightly in the light of the street lamp.  Under her elegant black
dress, her body appeared thin, almost boyish.  The fine features of her
olive toned face were so beautiful as to inspire poetry, or even murder. 
His senses had not warned him of her approach and still did not register
her presence.  She was a void to him.

   Knowing his thoughts, the woman smiled mockingly.  She then squinted her
slightly tilted eyes and, for Arthur, it was as if a veil had been drawn
from the sun.  The power emanating from her was of such magnitude that he
staggered backwards, falling to his knees with a cry of anguish.  She
watched him cower for a moment before, with another narrowing of her eyes,
the void returned.

   She looked at him impatiently, "I believe I asked you a question,
child."

   Arthur fumbled to recall the question, to form a reply, "It is no
coincidence, Mistress.  I came here looking for you."

   "Do not call me 'Mistress', boy.  I never claimed that title over you.
As I recall, I released you from those ties even before they had finished
forming.  Now, why are you seeking me?"

   Arthur swallowed reflexively before answering, "I want to know why."

   The woman's mocking laughter struck Arthur like a blow.  "The child
seeks out the parent to ask the meaning of life?  How very droll.  You come
to my city and break the most ancient of our taboos merely to know why you
were created; why you exist?"

   At Arthur's mute nod, the woman continued, "I would have expected you to
have learned by now that life has no purpose other than to live.  I Changed
you because I knew that you would not waste eternity feeling guilt over the
victims of your hunger.  I knew that you were one who would revel in this
existence and squeeze from it every last drop of pleasure it could offer."

   "But why does our kind exist?"

   The woman's thin eyebrows arched upwards in surprised amusement.  "Our
kind exists for the most basic reason of all.  I refused to die."

   At Arthur's expression of sudden epiphany, the woman drawled, "Yes,
child, I, Lei Gu, was the first.  I was born in a time when the Egyptians
were just learning to stack one rock on top of another.  When I was old
enough to understand the ephemeral nature of human existence I dedicated
myself to learning all of the knowledge of my people, seeking a way to
extend my life.  My people's understanding of the nature of existence
proved to be sadly lacking so I traveled, alone and unaided, across the
Gobi desert to the lands of the sag-giga, surviving the journey only by
pure strength of will.

   "There I studied with the followers of Enlil, god of the ghost land, in
the great cities of Eridu, Sippar and Shuruppak.  I learned glorious
things; dark, terrible, glorious things and eventually rose to become the
foremost Master of the Zi.  One of the things that I learned, child, is
that there are many worlds that exist adjacent to this one, some with
properties that are completely antithetical to our own.  One such world is
inhabited by beings of great and terrible power who peer into our world
with longing and hunger.  But the very nature of the life that they crave
to devour would cause their immediate destruction if they were to cross the
veil that separates the worlds unaided.

   "As my natural life was drawing to a close, I used the influence I had
attained to command that a great ritual be performed.  After months of
incantations, we sacrificed a thousand children to tear a hole in the veil
that separates the realities.  Then, when the moon and stars had reached
the perfect alignment and the incantations of hundreds of Masters of the Zi
had reached a thundering climax, I opened my own veins.  The hot blood that
flowed from me formed a conduit that allowed one of those beings, those
Outsiders, to pass from his world into me, giving me new life even as the
old drained into the sand.

   "As we fused into one, I mouthed the spells that established our nature,
subjugating the will of the Outsider completely to our own, allowing us to
pass the gift to others, and forging the bonds of compulsion between Master
and fledgling so that none could become greater than I."

   Lei paused in her narrative and, when she continued, her voice had gone
from exultant to bitter, "It was then, in my moment of triumph, that I was
betrayed.  One of my Masters of the Zi was secretly a priest of Utu, the
sun god, and believed the ritual to be an abomination.  Although his was
only one voice among many he was able to twist and pervert the magicks,
making it so that none who received the gift could ever venture into the
realm of his lord."

   Lei fixed Arthur with a hard stare, "There, child.  Now you know the
price I paid for the gift that I gave you freely.  Tell me this: have you
squandered that which you were given?"

   Arthur returned her gaze levelly, refusing to be cowed any longer
despite that which had been revealed.  "No, I have not."

   Lei threw her head back in laughter.  "How arrogant you are, child. 
Such arrogance is required to survive for millennia.  Perhaps I was right
in giving you the gift." Her laughter ceased as she again fixed him with a
glare.  "You would do well to learn from my example and be more
discriminating when you choose to create a fledgling.  It takes far more
than large breasts and a pretty face to truly be one of us."

   "You know of Mia?"

   Lei's mouth twisted in derision.  "This city is my domain, Arthur.  I
know the thoughts, dreams, hopes and fears of all within it.  That includes
you and your progeny."

   The corners of Lei's lips turned up in a cold smile, "Now that you have
your answers, will you continue to walk down your current path?"

   Arthur considered this for a long moment before answering, simply,
"Yes."

   "Even though it could well bring the wrath of your brethren down upon
you?  Before you answer consider this: the blame for your first
confrontation with mortal authorities might well be passed off to your
rebellious fledgling, but you, and only you, will be held responsible for
any actions taken from this point forward."

   "Will you oppose me, Mistress?"

   Lei frowned at being addressed by the title she had rejected, but her
brow furrowed in thought.  "No.  I don't believe that I will.  Not now. 
However, you should know that I created the taboo for a reason.  There is a
natural balance to every pairing of predator and prey, even one as
unnatural as ours.  If predators become too numerous or prey becomes too
scarce, the continued existence of both is put at risk.  If your actions
should ever grow to such a magnitude as to threaten that balance, I will
destroy you and yours without hesitation, mercy or remorse.  I have walked
this earth for seven thousand years and I will not be undone by the whim of
a willful child."

   Lei continued, "However, the developed nations have become too
comfortable, too complacent.  While the mortals jump at every minor threat,
real or imagined, to their empty, comfortable lives, they have forgotten
the true meaning of fear.  It was fear that inspired many of their greatest
works of art.  Many of their greatest discoveries were birthed in terror.
Without fear they have become less vibrant, less motivated, less vital.  I
grow bored with them.  So go, child, and teach them what it truly means to
be afraid.  I may even assist you on occasion.  Then again, I may not.  If
our kin come for you, though, I will not interfere.  I created the law that
you seek to violate and, while I choose not to enforce it personally,
keeping others from doing so would render it meaningless."

   It was Arthur's turn to sneer in derision.  "Since the time you Changed
me, I have traveled to nearly every part of this world.  There are maybe
twenty of us in existence and certainly no more than twice that.  In the
absence of overwhelming numbers, I have no fear of cowards who skulk in the
shadows, denying themselves their true potential."

   Lei laughed again, "Arrogance."

   In a blur of motion, Lei was upon him, her hands gripping his head
tightly.  "I think I will give you one more gift, boy.  A gift of
knowledge. Use it well." Lei again unmasked her strength, this time with a
purpose other than simple display.  The power poured into every orifice,
every pore of Arthur's body, the divided flows reuniting in his mind with
such force that he fell, quaking and screaming, to his knees.  She released
her grasp on his head and he fell bonelessly to his stomach.

   Arthur managed to twist his head around to watch as Lei ran to the edge
of the observation platform and leaped out over the precipice, change
twisting and rippling across her entire body.  In an instant, a bird
existed in the place that she had occupied but a moment before.  A bird the
size of a condor but with the form of a raven.  With a few powerful beats
of wings that extended beyond the merely physical, it was gone.  Arthur lay
stunned.  While the change was overtaking her, in the instant when she was
between her human form and that of the avian, he had glimpsed the
horrifyingly beautiful visage of the Outsider.  It had threatened his very
sanity.

   When he was finally able to stand again, Arthur jumped down the face of
the steep incline to stand on the bank of the river at its base.  There he
spoke an incantation in a language that had only rarely been heard since
the fall of Babylon and strode across the surface of the water to be about
his dark purpose.

   Chapter 13

   Alicia hated her job.  Sam's Tavern was ostensibly a biker bar, but its
true clientele was a horrid mix of wannabes and parolees.  The parking lot
contained far more beat-up Honda Civics and rusty Ford Escorts than it did
Harleys.  As she wiped up yet another spilled beer on the bar, the
perpetrator of the mess gave her a sharp slap on the ass, laughing
uproariously at his own daring.  She sighed but otherwise ignored his
actions; she knew from experience that showing a reaction would just make
things worse.  Idly, Alicia wondered what awful thing she had done in a
previous life that had earned her the humiliations she was forced to endure
here every moment of every working night.

   She walked to the back of the pool room over a sticky film of spilled
beer and chewing tobacco and filled a tray with empty PBR and Old Milwaukee
bottles, again ignoring the hands that continuously snaked out to quickly
grope her ass or tits as she moved between the tables.  Yes, she decided,
she would certainly quit tomorrow if her husband hadn't just dumped her for
a younger woman leaving her destitute and barely able to pay her rent.

   She had just resumed her perch behind the bar and returned her attention
to the big clock on the wall, watching the seconds until last call slowly
tick down, when she heard the front door open.  She didn't pay any
attention until she noticed that the bar had gone silent.  Looking around,
she saw that all eyes were focused on the door.  Following their gaze, she
saw a tall distinguished looking gentleman in a suit, tie and trench coat.
He practically exuded wealth.  She snapped her gaze back to the clock. 
Midnight.  Shit.  Most of her customers would be well into their cups by
now.  This could get ugly.

   The suit approached the bar and wiped off a section with a silk
handkerchief produced from his coat pocket.  Resting his arms on the
slightly cleaner patch of bar, he peered about with a look of amiable
curiosity.  His actions were met with a collective jeer from the rest of
the patrons and many of the leather and chain clad crowd began to close in.
"Dammit," Alicia whispered, "only two more hours to go and now I have to
deal with this bullshit."

   She hurried down the length of the bar until she was opposite the suit.
Leaning over she rapidly whispered, "Excuse me, sir, but I really think you
would be much happier at the Rosebud Lounge down the street."

   He turned his cool, oblivious gaze to her and said, "Oh, no.  This place
has just the atmosphere I was looking for."

   Alicia grunted in exasperation.  "Look, sir.  A lot of the guys here are
drunk as hell.  If you don't leave now, you might get hurt." Alicia wished
this rich asshole would just take the hint and leave; she didn't want to
have to go through the hassle of dealing with the cops.

   He reached out and patted her hand with cold smooth fingers while
chuckling politely as if she had told a joke, "I'll be fine, my dear.  I
won't be rousted by a bunch of vagabonds and vermin."

   Alicia winced.  A number of the men had been more than close enough to
hear the insult.  One of her regulars, a beefy man named Stan, who was
standing at the bar near the suit immediately began to posture, pushing his
chest out and shoulders back, reminding Alicia of a show she had seen on
Animal Planet about territorial fights between silverback gorillas.

   Stan moved forward pushing his chest into that of the suit.  "What did
you call me, faggot?" Stan shouted.  Alicia rolled her eyes; originality
was apparently not one of Stan's strong points.

   The suit slowly looked Stan over, a sneer of disgust twisting his
features.  "I believe the term applicable to you, Stan, would be 'vermin'."

   The wrongness of the whole situation suddenly hit Alicia like a brick.
She wanted to scream, to tell Stan, to tell everyone, to run.  The suit
obviously wasn't drunk or stupid.  He had to be a cop, or have a gun or...
something.  With widening eyes, she recalled the rumor that it hadn't been
a gang that wiped out the SWAT team the night before, as it had said in the
newspaper, but a single unarmed man.  Suddenly, it seemed that everything
was moving in slow motion.  She saw Stan's arm cock back, a stupid smile
plastered across his face.  She wanted to dive across the bar and stop him,
but her legs were frozen in place.  Stan's arm started forward and it
seemed to Alicia that the suit turned his face to her and winked, but in
the blink of an eye the suit was again staring at Stan, a look of mild
amusement on his face.  Stan's fist came around in a vicious haymaker which
rapidly closed in on the suit's head.  When it seemed that the only image
that yet remained to be seen was that of the suit flying back in a spray of
blood, the suit's hand moved in a blur, catching Stan's fist less than an
inch from his cheek.  Stan's arm came to a complete stop in an instant, the
backlash of its momentum staggering him.

   Stan twisted and pulled, trying to free his fist, but it might as well
have been stuck in stone.  The suit stood motionless, continuing to stare
at Stan dispassionately, showing no sign of strain from resisting Stan's
frantic struggles.  And then the suit smiled, tips of long sharp fangs
showing between his parted lips.  Alicia felt hot urine run down her leg.

   A terrible crackling sound emanated from where the suit's hand gripped
Stan's fist.  Alicia saw a few drops of blood run down the suit's wrist to
his shirt sleeve.  The drops became a trickle which became a stream which
turned into a river.  Stan stared at the gush of blood with eyes wide in
disbelief, and then he screamed in terrible agony, slumping downwards as
his knees went weak.  The suit's other hand blurred across his body before
striking out at Stan with a viscous backhand that flung Stan across the
room, the ruins of his crushed hand leaving a trail of scarlet behind him.

   The rest of the men in the bar closed in on the suit, alcohol and
natural belligerence overcoming common sense.  The suit danced sinuously
among the mob, dodging pool cues, bar stools, fists and feet with ease. 
Every few seconds the suit would strike out with fist or foot and another
of the bar's patrons would fall backwards clutching at a shattered face or
broken limb.  Hot, thick fluid splashed across Alicia's face and she fell,
vomiting, to the floor.

   Arthur reveled in the physical combat, not bothering to change or bring
his will to bear.  In less than a minute the bar's patrons lay about him
groaning in pain, those still conscious shying from him in fear.  Arthur
reached down near his feet and grabbed one of the men by his lanky hair,
using it to pull the man to his feet.  As the man whimpered in terror,
Arthur's head thrust forward, his fangs sinking deeply into the man's
throat.  Arthur drank deeply, shuddering with the pleasure of feeding,
until the man's heart came to a stumbling halt.  Throwing the dry husk
casually to the side, Arthur moved on to the next man and repeated the
process.  When he, too, had been drained and discarded, Arthur moved among
all the others in the room, pausing occasionally to regurgitate the blood
of his last victims to make room for the blood of the next.  When he
finally leaned back against the bar with a sigh of satisfaction, all
seventeen men in the room were dead, but no necks had been broken.  Ferals
were difficult to control, but Arthur felt up to the task.

   With a grunt of sudden recollection, Arthur locked the door and then
walked to the back of the bar, briefly concentrating his will to clean his
suit of blood as he did.  When he rounded the end of the bar he looked down
into the terrified eyes of the woman who lay trembling on the floor.

   Arthur smiled down upon her malevolently, "Well, hello there, Alicia. 
Hiding from me?  What a poor hostess you are.  It may take several hours
for our friends to awake, but I know that you'll keep me entertained while
we wait.  Yes?"

   Arthur reached down and placed his forefinger under Alicia's chin,
applying enough upward pressure to make her stand.  He ran his eyes slowly
up and down the trembling woman.  She had been beautiful once, he decided,
but only a shadow of that beauty still remained.  Years of disappointment,
poverty and substance abuse had taken their toll.

   Taking her chin in his hand, Arthur tilted her head from side to side,
examining it from every angle.  Her features were well proportioned, her
cheek bones high and delicate, but deep lines around her mouth and eyes
gave her a perpetually worn and bitter look.  Her nose, while straight and
well shaped, was traced with veins and broken blood vessels due to the
profligate use of alcohol.

   Arthur held a finger up in front of Alicia's nose and her brown eyes
crossed slightly as she attempted to focus on it.  She gasped in fear and
her eyes widened as the tip of that finger lengthened and curved into a
cruel, sharp talon.  Arthur drew the talon slowly along the quivering skin
of her face, then down that of her throat and chest until he reached the
neckline of her low cut sweater.  There he slashed it quickly downwards,
slicing easily through the polyester of her sweater, the naugahyde of her
belt, the denim of her jeans and the cotton of her bra and panties.  Arthur
brushed at the ruined clothing with his unchanged fingers and it fell into
a pile behind Alicia, leaving her nude before him.

   Her breasts were large and heavy, though gravity and time had made them
sag significantly.  Alicia drew in her breath sharply as Arthur traced the
talon around one of her large areola, small beads of blood rising from her
skin in its wake.  Arthur then drew the claw lightly down the center of her
stomach, noting that while it was still relatively flat, the flesh was
overly soft and deeply lined with stretch marks from a long ago pregnancy.
When he reached the thick, black bush of pubic hair, still damp and matted
from her earlier loss of bladder control, his mouth twisted in distaste. 
Turning the claw sideways against her skin, he drew it slowly across the
top of the mass of hair, leaving only stubble behind it.

   Arthur reached up to her head and grabbed a handful of her short black
hair.  He twisted until, with a grimace of pain, she was forced to turn
around, giving him the opportunity to examine her from behind.  Although
her hips flared out nicely, her buttocks sagged and they, and her upper
thighs, were thick with cellulite.  Arthur ran the talon along the curve of
one of her ass cheeks, stopping when he reached the center to circle it
lightly over the delicate skin of her anus.  His lips curved in a smile of
satisfaction as she whimpered.

   He leaned into her back and whispered in her ear, "Shame on you, dear,
for taking such poor care of yourself.  If I had any alternate sources of
entertainment, I would surely kill you and move on."

   Arthur suddenly released her and pushed her roughly in the direction of
the sink behind the bar.  "Now clean your piss off of yourself.  You
disgust me.", he commanded.

   Sobbing in fear and humiliation, Alicia dipped the rag in a basin of
soapy water and did as she was told.

   When she had completed her task, Arthur unzipped his pants and pulled
out the thickest, ugliest dick that Alicia had ever seen.  "Suck my cock,
Alicia.", Arthur ordered.  "And remember that your life may depend on how
well you please me."

   Alicia's sobs grew more violent and tears ran down her cheeks as she
moved timidly toward him.  When he began to tap his foot impatiently, she
dropped quickly to her knees and leaned forward to take him into her mouth.

   Arthur's eyebrows rose in surprise; the woman was actually doing a
commendable job despite her obvious terror; sucking lightly while bobbing
her mouth up and down more than half of his length.  Still, it wouldn't do
to let her know that she was pleasing him.

   "You are pathetic, girl.  Do I have to show you how to do everything?",
he hissed as he again grabbed a handful of her hair.  Using her hair as a
handle, he forced her mouth rapidly up and down his entire length, forcing
the end of his cock repeatedly into the entrance of her throat and beyond.
It left her choking and gagging, but he ignored the pleading look in her
wide watering eyes.

   Finally tiring of the game, Arthur pulled her hair back away from
himself until his dick fell from her lips.  Pulling her to her feet by her
hair, he spun her around and thrust her face down over the bar.  Reaching
between her legs he flicked one of his unchanged nails hard against her
clit, making her jump and wince with pain.  Quickly moving in behind her he
forced himself fully into her dry canal with a single thrust, causing her
to grasp the edge of the bar tightly while emitting a groan like a wounded
animal.

   Even as Arthur drove his cock into Alicia's defenseless body, he drove
his will into her mind, making her relive every disappointment, every
betrayal and every humiliation that she had ever experienced from the time
she was a child.  The sheer volume of those memories surprised Arthur, even
while opening his mind to a possibility not heretofore considered.  As the
flashing of the unwanted memories through her brain slowed and came to a
stop, Alicia threw her head back with a forlorn and despondent wail. 
Squeezing her eyes shut, she collapsed limply across the bar, responding
even to the ongoing brutal violation of her body with only the tiniest of
whimpers.

   Arthur leaned forward over her sweat slicked body.  "Don't quit on me
yet, Alicia," he hissed in her ear, "we've just barely begun."

   Arthur concentrated briefly and the fingers on his non-taloned hand
fused and lengthened, forming a single long, thick digit.  Arthur traced
the newly enlarged finger down the crack of Alicia's ass until he reached
the wrinkled skin of her anus.  There he lightly rubbed the tip around the
pucker.

   This gentle caress roused Alicia from her stupor.  Her eyes snapped open
and she whimpered, "Not there.  Please not there."

   Amusement in his voice, Arthur whispered in reply, "Yes, Alicia. 
There." Arthur thrust the thick digit fully into the writhing woman's ass,
pushing effortlessly past the defensively clenched muscles of her
sphincter. Arthur synchronized the movements of the great finger with the
thrusts of his cock in her cunt and smiled as her screams began anew.

   After what seemed to Alicia to be an endless eternity, Arthur suddenly
withdrew completely from her body.  Taking her hips in his still modified
hands, he roughly and easily flipped her over on her back and moved back
forward to penetrate her again, this time pushing his cock into her red,
swollen and abraded asshole while plunging the enhanced finger into her
cunt.

   Sensing that Alicia was becoming inured even to this, Arthur leaned
forward and took the tip of one of her heavy breasts into his mouth,
sucking lightly on her nipple before extending his fangs into the soft and
delicate skin of the areola.  His bite had its usual effect: she reared up
in agony as the pain from her cruelly pierced flesh sliced through her
brain and then her body went rigid, all of her muscles clenching at once,
as a fiery orgasm blazed through her, suffusing every ounce of her flesh.

   Arthur detected movement out of the corner of his eye and regretfully
concluded that he would have to bring his time with Alicia to a close. 
While continuing to thrust his cock violently in and out of her ass, he
removed his fangs from the tender, bleeding flesh of her breast and pulled
the great finger from her twat.  After returning his fused hand to its
normal state, he leaned over her writhing body and pressed his lips to her
ear.

   He whispered, "All your life people have hurt you, betrayed you,
subjected you to humiliations without end.  How does that make you feel,
Alicia?"

   The intense agony and exquisite pleasure that warred for dominance in
her overloaded brain prevented Alicia from dissembling or telling anything
less than the truth.  "I hate it.  I hate them.", she panted.

   "Who do you mean by 'them', Alicia?"

   "Everyone," she whimpered.

   "And what would you like to do to 'them', Alicia?"

   She cried out, "I want them to hurt!  I...  I want them to suffer."

   "Good girl.", Arthur whispered before lowering his mouth to her neck and
biting deep.  Even as Alicia cried out in another unwilling orgasm, the
hot, thick blood rushing down Arthur's throat spawned its own reaction.  As
he felt his pleasure rise, Arthur thrust his cock fully into her ass and
fired his lifeless seed into the depths of her bowels.

   When Arthur felt her heart began to falter, fluttering like a fragile
bird within the cage of her ribs, he disengaged briefly and slashed open
his shoulder with the talon.  Pulling her mouth to the gaping wound, Arthur
commanded, "Drink, Alicia.  Drink deeply."

   At first Alicia's cool, blue tinted lips lay slackly on Arthur's
shoulder.  Then he felt her tongue extend slowly to take a first tentative
taste of his cool fluids.  That first dainty touch of her tongue became
broad laps before she finally clamped her lips over the gaping wound and
sucked deeply, greedily.  Caressing the back of her head, Arthur crooned,
"That's it, Alicia.  Drink!" Arthur lowered his mouth back down to her
throat and drained her until her breath came out in a gurgling rattle and
her lips fell lifelessly from his shoulder.

   Turning his attention toward the bar room, Arthur noted that three of
the faux bikers were already pulling themselves to their feet and several
others were twitching violently.  The three who were standing turned toward
Arthur, their faces were hideous masks of bestial fury.

   Arthur knew that the next few seconds were critical.  The bond between
Master and fledgling existed even with ferals, but it was greatly
complicated by their inability to comprehend language.  To bring them under
control, Arthur had to quickly dredge up images from the tattered remnants
of their memories which would convey his purpose to them.  It was a precise
and exacting exercise; no longer possessing the ability to reason, a feral
would be unable to deduce Arthur's intent if the instructions he gave in
imagery were even the slightest bit ambiguous.  Were he too slow or his
instructions less than precise, the feral would move to attack Arthur and
the bond would strike the feral dead.

   Arthur worked feverishly for the next half hour.  Of the seventeen
former bar patrons, thirteen had risen.  Arthur had taken control of all
but one of these.  That one's memories had been even more fragmented than
the others and Arthur had been unable to piece together instructions before
the feral, undeterred by the pain caused by its intent, had rushed across
the room with arms outstretched only to fall lifeless to the floor as its
fingers closed on Arthur's throat.  Still, Arthur was satisfied; less had
risen than he had hoped, but, in the end, he had more ferals under control
than he had dared to expect.

   For a time, Arthur paraded his new minions to and fro across the bar
floor, perfecting the art of controlling them.  Once satisfied with his
skill, he gathered his ferals by the door, and tossed Alicia over his
shoulder in preparation for departure.  As he reached for the lock a sudden
thought occurred to him which resulted in his dropping Alicia's limp form
to the floor.  Arthur quickly searched through the clothing of all of the
former patrons, feral and the truly dead alike, collecting the knives he
found in pockets, shirt sleeves and boot tops.  Arthur then carried one of
the corpses to the bar and used the knives to spike it into place, its
staring, sightless eyes facing toward the door.  Placing his thumbs over
its death glazed orbs, Arthur delved again into Kei's gift and muttered a
brief incantation.  Pulling his hands away with a grunt of satisfaction, he
again draped Alicia over his shoulder and led his pack of ferals out into
the night.

   Extending his senses to the fullest, Arthur guided the ferals southward
through a maze of streets and alleys, choosing his path to avoid witnesses
where possible, blurring memories where it was not.  Soon they had left the
towers of steel, glass and concrete behind and, twenty minutes and seven
miles later, the pack entered the town of Pleasant Hills, wherein resided
one James Bollinger, former opera lover turned fledgling.

   They entered the Bollinger residence through a set of large Bilco doors
which led to an unfinished but windowless basement.  Arthur got the ferals
settled in among the neatly labeled cardboard boxes that cluttered the
large room with orders not to move until commanded differently.  He then
dumped Alicia's limp and still apparently lifeless body in front of the
door to a small bathroom before heading up the stairs to the house proper.

   When Arthur entered the living room, he found his fledgling sitting on
the living room couch, his face endlessly shifting in change as he
struggled to perfect his duplication of Arthur's features.  Arthur watched
with interest for a moment; given the limited ability of the newly Changed
to change, James was doing quite well.

   Arthur moved to take a seat opposite the fledgling, "You may stop,
Jimmy."

   James' face immediately ceased rippling and he turned to look at his
Master impassively.

   Arthur snorted derisively, "You should know by now, Jimmy, that it
doesn't matter if you have a face like a sea boot, I can feel your
resentment, your hate, your despair."

   In a voice hot with anger, James answered, "How can you expect any
different?  You raped my wife in front of me!  You turned me into a
monster! You made me drink my wife's blood!  You made me kill her!" The
anger drained suddenly and he continued in a smaller, wheedling voice, "You
have already taken all that I have, why can't you just let me die?"

   With a cold smile, Arthur replied, "Oh, you will die, Jimmy.  Have no
doubt of that.  But only when your death will be of benefit to me.  Now, on
to a matter of actual importance.  Have a number of heavily armed men
arrived yet?"

   "Yes, Master.  They are in the bedrooms upstairs.  They wished for me to
tell you that they will be up and on duty by dawn."

   "Excellent.  Go to the basement and prepare for dormancy.  Do not
disturb any of the others that are there."

   James stood and exited the room.  As he passed through the doorway to
the basement, Arthur called after him, "Oh, and Jimmy?  You have my
permission to weep, if you wish."

   As James descended into the cellar, accompanied by the sound of Arthur's
contemptuous laughter, cold tears ran down his cheeks.

   After he had dismissed the fledgling, Arthur spoke the companion
incantation to that which he had uttered at the bar.  He then settled back
into the couch to wait for the police to arrive at the scene of the carnage
so he could watch and assess them through the eyes of a dead man.

   To be continued.

   <1st attachment end>

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