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Message-ID: <59004asstr$1242522602@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Dreadpirate Tom <dptom@live.com>
Importance: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} Blood Lust, chapters 27-32
Lines: 1341
Date: Sat, 16 May 2009 21:10:02 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


Story codes for this part would be: vampires, no sex, viol, caut, slow

Thanks,
dpt


<1st attachment, "blood lust chapt 27-32.txt" begin>

Blood Lust Chapters 27-32

   By Dread Pirate Tom

   Chapter 27

   Tom awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks.  Yesterday's long
afternoon nap followed by a full night of dreamless sleep had truly done
wonders.  As his eyes opened, he saw that Dana was still cuddled up tightly
to the now dormant Mia, a broad, happy smile stretched across her lips even
in sleep.  With an affectionate smile, he stretched to kiss Mia's cool lips
and then, more lightly, Dana's very warm ones.

   While doing so, he noticed that, sometime after he had fallen asleep,
Mia had again dressed in his sweat pants and t-shirt.  He could easily
guess what she had done.  He suppressed the sudden surge of worry; she was
obviously okay.  Briefly he wondered how she had managed to do battle for
the second night in a row without having fed.  He promised himself that he
would find a way to get her to Peter's house no matter what restrictions
were in place.  She surely had to be in dire need.

   He rose from the bed and slipped on his boxers before wandering out in
the direction of the kitchen to start a pot of coffee brewing.  He stopped
momentarily as he reached the living room.  The back of a head was visible
over the top of his couch.  He relaxed and continued walking when he
recognized it as Mark's.

   Mark's head was tilted to rest on the back of the couch.  His eyes were
closed and he was snoring softly.  Tom stifled a laugh as he saw the line
of drool that extended from the corner of his friend's widely gaping mouth
to his chest.  The desire to laugh ceased when he proceeded a little
further and saw that Mark's right arm was in a sling and a leg, fortunately
the left one, was in a full cast.  The upper part of his shirt bulged with
the bandages that were wrapped tightly around his ribs, and his left hand
was draped protectively over the crutch that lay across his lap.

   Doing his best to move quietly, Tom completed his intended task and then
headed to the bathroom for his morning ablutions.  When he returned, the
coffee was ready.  Filling two cups, he walked back to the living room and
waved one under Mark's nose.

   Mark came awake immediately, his good hand reaching for the cup even
before his eyes opened.  "Ahhh," he sighed blissfully, "that's the second
best way to wake up that I can think of."

   Tom, careful not to ask what the best way was, said mildly, "Good
morning, sleeping beauty.  What brings you to my couch so bright and early?
Jenny finally get a good look at you and tell you to get out?"

   Before Mark could answer, Tom added, "Oh, and did you just end your
sentence with a preposition?  Your old professors would be appalled."

   "First you give me coffee and then you insult me," Mark replied in an
injured tone, "You're quite the contrary bitch." He brightened as a smirk
twisted his lips.  "Since you're being so picky, how about: that's the
second best way to wake up that I can think of, asshole?  As to the rest, I
peeked in on you when I first got here.  Even though I was told that my
errand was fairly urgent, I couldn't bring myself to disturb you and your,
uh, company.  Dana, Tom?  Really?  You do know that she's young enough to
be..."

   "My younger sister?" Tom interrupted.  "It's all very innocent.  I
swear. She was a bit frightened by everything that was going on in the city
and just wanted to spend the night someplace safe."

   "Uh huh," Mark replied in a tone of frank disbelief.

   He appeared to be about to say more when the object of their
conversation walked into the room wearing only her Pittsburgh PD t-shirt
and a pair of panties.  She paused when she noticed Mark's presence, but,
with a slight shrug of her shoulders, continued forward.

   "Good morning.  Do I smell coffee?" she asked hopefully.

   "Good morning, and you sure do," Tom replied, "Have a seat and I'll get
you a cup."

   "Mmmm," she said contentedly after the first sip, "much better than that
swill at the station."

   "I'll take that as a compliment," Tom replied before switching his
attention back to Mark, "You mentioned an urgent errand?"

   "Yep," Mark answered.  "Look at this," he ordered gruffly as he hit a
button on the tv remote.  A Massengill commercial appeared on the screen.

   "Are you saying that I'm not fresh and clean?" Tom asked.

   Mark grunted with amusement and then grumbled, "Bad timing.  Keep
watching.  They've been showing what I want you to see nonstop all
morning."

   After a few more commercials and a notice indicating that the day's
scheduled programming had been preempted for a special news report, an
elderly and dignified anchor began summarizing the events in Pittsburgh
over the past few days.  After recapping the assurances of the federal
authorities that it was nothing more than the outbreak of an unusual
disease, the anchor said, "But the official explanation fails to account
for what we are about to show you.  I warn you that the video that you are
about to see contains scenes of violence which are not suitable for
sensitive viewers."

   The anchor's head and shoulders were replaced by footage that had been
filmed from a corner room of one of the hotels close to the point.  The
windows had been opened and the screens popped out to give the cameraman a
clean shot.  The camera was pointed down at a sharp angle and showed a
group of five unarmed men rushing toward a far larger group of heavily
armed soldiers and policemen who were gathered around a line of bright
yellow horses topped with flashing yellow lights.  Barely perceptible over
the cameraman's breathing, Tom could hear the terse shouts of the police
for the other group to stop.  Guns came up as those orders were ignored. 
Tom noticed that it was a city police officer, all of whom were at least
vaguely aware that the threat was not a mere illness, who opened fire
first. The other men joined in and the five jerked backwards under the
impact of hot lead before falling motionless to the pavement.

   "Holy [beep]," the cameraman blurted out angrily, "those [beep] just
shot those poor [beep] down like dogs!  I can't believe this [beep]!"

   The furious tirade continued for a few minutes until it suddenly choked
off when the bodies twitched violently and began to rise.  As the police
and soldiers stood in stunned disbelief, they renewed their charge.  When
they were less than ten yards away, guns were lifted and fired.  The bodies
again fell to the ground.  The police and soldiers gathered in a close
group, and it was obvious that a heated argument was taking place.  The
group broke apart and pairs of men grabbed the wooden horses that formed
the barricade and carried them twenty yards farther down the street from
their fallen adversaries.  They had no sooner set up their new line when
the dead rose to their feet yet again.  This time there was no hesitation
before gunfire broke out.

   Once the undead were again motionless, one of the city police officers
knocked over a barricade and kicked it violently until it was in splinters.
By the time he was finished, they were again being charged.  When the
barrage of rifle fire ended this time, that same officer, along with
several others, grabbed sharp shards of wood from the broken barricade and
sprinted to the fallen ferals.  They stabbed each body repeatedly until
they could be certain that no heart had gone unpierced.



   "Good for them!" Tom whooped, echoed only somewhat less exuberantly by
Dana.

   "Keep watching," Mark said grimly.

   The camera remained fixed on the men below, who now seemed to be arguing
about what to do about the dead bodies in the street.  Tendrils of fog
began to snake across the street.  The mist swiftly grew thicker and rose
higher.  Just before the men were obscured, the camera shifted to show a
number of barely perceptible figures running toward the checkpoint.  Many
of them had a strange, erratic gate, as if they were using their hands to
assist with their locomotion.  The cameraman could be heard shouting
warnings out the window.  The footage continued long enough for the viewers
to hear renewed gunfire that cut off when the screams began.

   As Tom, Dana and Mark exchanged horrified glances, the video was
replaced by the familiar visage of the anchorman.  "Our meteorologist
assures us that conditions in Pittsburgh last night were such that fog
could not possibly have formed naturally.  It did dissipate after roughly
three hours.  We'll now show you what was revealed.  Again, we strongly
caution that what we are about to show you is not appropriate for sensitive
viewers."

   The picture switched back to the view from the corner hotel room.  The
fog had been reduced to a thin mist that whirled and eddied through the
street at no more than knee height.  The wet street was covered with
bodies, some dismembered, all with hideous injuries.  Tom noticed that
there were far fewer than there should have been; many of the men who had
manned the checkpoint were missing.

   Over the grim footage, the anchorman stated, "We have been attempting to
reach the authorities in Pittsburgh for an official statement on the events
of last night, but, so far, none of our calls have been forwarded to anyone
with authorization to speak on the subject.  All that we have been told is
that the restrictions that were put in place yesterday afternoon are still
in effect."

   Tom looked at Mark in confusion, "Why isn't anyone saying anything?"

   Mark answered by pointing a finger at Tom.

   "Huh?" Tom replied, now even more confused.

   "You're the resident vampire expert," Mark explained, "No one is willing
to say shit until they talk to you."

   "Fuck!  Why didn't they call?  Why..," Tom's words cut off as Mark held
up the cell phone that Tom suddenly recalled he had turned off yesterday to
avoid the endless stream of callers who had wanted to voice outrage over
his suspension.  Mark tossed it over to him, and a quick check showed Tom
that his voice mail was full.

   "Damn.  Sorry," Tom said, disgusted with himself, "Why didn't you wake
me up?" His eyes rose to look at Mark with friendly malice, "And why did
they send the fat, gimpy guy to crawl up six flights of stairs to my
apartment?"

   With a chuckle, Mark answered, "I didn't wake you up because you just
looked too damn comfortable."

   Dana turned bright red as she realized what he must have seen.

   Mark gave her a reassuring smile and continued, "If those sanctimonious
feds don't like it, they can just go fuck themselves.  From what I
understand, if they had listened to you yesterday, they wouldn't be in so
much trouble today.  Besides, I've only been here for," he checked his
watch quickly, "a little over half an hour.  I would have woken you up
soon, if you hadn't gotten up on your own.  It's not like cutting you a
little slack will make those poor, sorry bastards who died last night any
more dead or make a lot of difference today.  As to why they sent me, I
called in first thing this morning after I was released from the hospital
to see if I could help.  Had a quick conference call with the Chief and
some CDC asshole who is now leading the federal contingent in the city as
their old leader vanished last night.  The Chief talked him into sending me
to get you instead of some fed.  Think of it as extending an olive branch
or using honey to lure in the flies."

   In a subdued voice, Tom asked, "How many people did we lose last night?"

   Mark shook his head sadly, "When I asked, no one was really sure.  Lots.
Though probably less than we would have if not for..." he finished by
gesturing vaguely toward the window.  Glancing over, Tom saw, for the first
time, the pair of fence posts that were leaning against the wall beneath
the sill.  The paint had been worn off the sharp ends and the cracks were
filled with dried blood and bits of skin, bone and muscle.

   "I really need to slip a few bucks into my neighbor's mailbox to cover
all the damage to his fence," Tom commented absently, "I also owe Mia a
great big hug."

   "Yeah, we all do, I would say," Mark replied.

   Tom stood with a sigh and sucked down as much of the hot coffee as he
could handle, "Well, I suppose we had better get moving before they send
someone else."

   "Should I come with you?" Dana asked.

   Tom shook his head, "Only if you really want to.  I would say that what
you went through the other night more than earned you a couple of days of
rest and relaxation.  You're more than welcome to stay here.  There's food
in the fridge and you know where the shower is.  Not to mention that, with
all the vampire hunters that are likely to be combing the city by the end
of the day, I would feel better knowing that someone was watching over
Mia."

   "Okay," Dana replied, relief evident in her voice.  She stood and walked
over to Tom where she twined an arm around his neck to pull him down for a
quick peck on the lips and a hug.  "Thanks for, um, everything, Tom." Her
face turned red with another blush as she added, "Would it be alright if I
stayed here tonight, too?"

   Returning her hug with a squeeze of his own, Tom replied, "Of course."
Switching his attention to Mark, he asked, "Ready, hop along?"

   Once they were out in the hallway, Mark turned to his friend with a
lecherous grin, "Innocent, my ass."

   Tom answered only with a smile that, despite all of his efforts, still
looked smug.

   As Tom helped Mark negotiate the many stairs that led to the ground
floor, Mark grumbled, "You cheap bastard.  Why can't you spring for an
apartment in a building with an elevator?"

   Mildly, Tom answered, "This building has one, it just hasn't worked in a
year or two." He pointedly ignored the murderous look that Mark gave him in
reply.

   Once they were out on the sidewalk, Tom asked, "How did you get here,
anyway?  I'm guessing that you can't drive."

   "A patrol car dropped me off," Mark replied, "The driver had orders to
wait until I dragged you out by the hair and then drive us back to the
station, but I told him that we could make it there on our own."

   "Okay," said Tom, "My car it is."

   As they approached the vehicle in question, Mark let out a disgusted
grunt, "Tiny apartment in a crappy old building.  Shitty car.  Bachelor
who, until recently, lived the life of a monk.  What do you spend your
money on?"

   Struggling to keep a straight face, Tom answered, "Midget porn.  Lots
and lots of midget porn."

   Chapter 28

   The moment that Tom and Mark entered the station, Dr.  Nolan of the CDC
came running up to them.  Panting from the slight exertion, he asked
breathlessly, "Detective, about time you got here.  What can you tell me
about these things?"

   "Good morning, Dr.  Nolan," Tom replied pleasantly, "It's nice to see
you again, too.  But I thought we didn't have time for ridiculous
superstition."

   Dr.  Nolan had the decency to look abashed at Tom's words.  "Sorry," he
answered sheepishly, "We were wrong, you were right.  Now, would you be
willing to share what you know?"

   "Sure, we're all on the same team, after all," Tom replied, "but I want
a few things, first." He would certainly have provided the information
without conditions, but an opportunity to get things moving in a hurry
could not be passed over.

   "What?" Dr.  Nolan asked with exasperation.

   "I want the travel restrictions against people leaving the city lifted.
In fact, why don't we just make it a mandatory evacuation?  Get word out
immediately.  It would be a good idea to search every car that leaves. 
Make certain the sun touches everyone.  The vampires who are behind all
that has been going on quite likely have regular people, mercenaries,
helping them.  They could try to leave the city by day with the
mercenaries' help."

   "Done, but why evacuate?"

   "The obvious reason.  The fewer people there are in the city, the fewer
people there are for the vampires to kill or turn into other vampires." Tom
was almost ashamed at the perverse pleasure he took in the pained looks
that crossed the doctor's face every time he said the v word.

   "Anything else?"

   "Yes.  Call in the people at the checkpoints inside the city.  Form them
into search parties and have them start looking in every dark alley, every
dumpster, every open basement, and every building with broken or open
windows or doors.  If they find anyone who seems dead, they are to drag
that person out into the sun.  It would also be good to open every manhole
and lower mirrors down to reflect sunlight up and down the pipes.  The
sewer pipes in this city are too small and too full for people who have to
breathe to be crawling around in them for a proper search, but using the
mirrors should help a little."

   Dr.  Nolan nodded thoughtfully, "Good idea.  Done.  Is that all?"

   "I would like to know two things: how many people did we lose last night
and what specifically happened to change your mind about the existence of
vampires?"

   Dr.  Nolan's face turned grim, "Last night, we split all available
people into four shifts of six hours each.  Inside the bounds of the city
proper, we lost everyone on the first shift; just under three hundred men.
About a third of those are still missing.  Those who were assigned to
outlying districts or the highways reported no contact with the enemy.  The
entire second shift was attacked either while they were assembling for
assignment or while they were driving there through that blasted fog. 
Almost four hundred dead.  Fortunately, some of the men had come prepared
with bows and arrows and they held off the attackers while more than two
hundred others escaped into the city-county building lobby.  They then
stood guard until morning, keeping those people safe.  We had the third
shift assemble at the South Side station and just manned the outer
checkpoints from there on out.

   "As to your second question: early in the evening, one of the
checkpoints was attacked by a single man and they managed to restrain him
and bring him in.  When I examined him, I found that he had no pulse, no
blood pressure and was room temperature.  Although the team reported that
they had shot him repeatedly, there was no sign of any injury other than
the holes in his clothes.  His pupil reactions, reflexes, and flexibility
were, however, completely normal, even better than normal.  When I checked
his teeth, I discovered that he not only had fangs but could extend and
retract them at will.  He was completely unresponsive to questions, and
acted more like a caged animal than a human being.  When I had blood tests
run on the exceedingly small amount that I could squeeze out of him, the
results were more bizarre than anything I could have ever imagined.  Not
only was the chemistry all wrong, but it contained cells like nothing I've
seen before.

   "The presence of those cells had almost convinced me that it was a
disease after all.  Just a very, very exotic one.  Then, at six fifteen
this morning, the exact time of sunrise, he ceased struggling against the
chains that we had used to hold him down and went completely limp and
seemingly lifeless on the gurney.  Ten minutes later, the sun began shining
through the windows of the examining room and he, the vial of blood that I
had drawn from him, and the blood that I had smeared on some slides burst
explosively into flame.  That made a believer out of me.  Now, will you
tell me what you know?"

   Shocked by the sheer numbers of dead, Tom replied in a subdued voice,
"Sure, Dr.  Nolan.  While you make the arrangements for the search parties
and the evacuation, let me see if I can round up some other people who need
to hear what I have to say."

   Dr.  Nolan turned to go but then spun to face Tom again, "Detective, you
do realize that telling the world that there really are vampires is pretty
much out of the question?"



   "It's the truth.  And assuming that hiding that truth is even remotely
possible at this point, which I sincerely doubt, why would you?  I think
the people have a right to know what it is that they're facing."

   "Think of the panic that such knowledge would cause, and the economic
and social disaster that would occur if everyone was suddenly afraid to
leave their homes after dark.  Consider, too, that vampires look like us;
in a sense they are, or at least were, us.  Anyone walking by you on the
street could be one.  And that is exactly what a lot of people will think.

   "Fear is not a rational emotion.  If someone is acting odd, or is new to
an area, or follows different customs, they will be subject to suspicion,
even violence.  It won't matter if the suspicions are unsupported by
evidence.  It never does.  Look how long racial and ethnic stereotypes have
persisted and how much violence has occurred because of them.  That is so
even though no such stereotype has included the added dimension of the
subject wanting to kill and eat you."

   Tom shook his head, "I don't think you're giving people enough credit,
Doctor.  People are smart enough..."

   Dr.  Nolan interrupted, "A person is smart.  People are not.  A person
can view a situation logically and rationally.  A group of people, however,
is prone to fear, hysteria, paranoia and violence.  Mob mentality is an
unfortunate reality."

   "That's an extremely dim view of human nature."

   "Actually, Detective, that's the bright side.  On the other side of the
coin is the people who, instead of being afraid, want the power and
longevity that vampirism can offer.  They will flock to the city with the
hope of becoming infected.  And if they succeed...Well, I don't think I
need to paint a picture of what would happen if people who are willing to
consume the lives of others to prolong their own actually got the
opportunity."

   When Tom just stared at him, dumbfounded, Dr.  Nolan pressed on, "I know
this will be covered in the briefing you'll be giving, but answer me this:
Do you know how long these creatures have been around?"

   Tom bit down on his anger and answered, "I don't know.  At least a few
hundred years."

   "Yet this has been the only incident of this type?"

   "Well, yes..."

   "From Ms.  Harper's story, I get the impression that this is all the
work of one or two creatures?"

   "Only one, really.  The woman who was with him was created here."

   "Okay.  Do you not think it a fair assumption, then, that, even if there
are others of his kind, even many others, he is an anomaly, a rebel among
them?

   Grudgingly, Tom admitted, "I suppose so."

   "So, if we manage to eliminate this one, don't you think it likely that
we will have no further incidents of this type?"

   "It's possible, but what if there are?"

   "I'm not suggesting that we stick our heads in the sand, Detective
McNelly.  There will be people, all with proper levels of clearance of
course, who know the truth.  There will likely even be a rapid response
team trained specifically to combat any future incidents.  What I am
suggesting is that the truth will not do the masses any good and may even
do a great deal of harm."

   "As an intellectual exercise, I suppose that I can see your point, but
there are already a huge number of people who know the truth..."

   "No.  There are a huge number of people who think they know the truth.
Very few have actually seen a vampire up close and survived.  If we offer a
plausible alternative, who do you think the masses will believe?  Us, with
our rational and logical explanation, or people who spout out incredible
tales of mythological creatures attacking a modern city?"

   "What 'rational and logical' explanation could you possibly give for all
that has happened?"

   "All we need to do is put an added spin on the old explanation.  It is a
disease, similar to rabies but also causing hallucinations, delusions and
rapid growth of the canine teeth.  To be on the safe side, we'll say that
it has a hundred percent mortality rate in cases of full infection.  We'll
also say that it can only be spread through a direct mix of bodily fluids,
such as by a bite or ingestion of blood, and that it has almost no
incubation period.  That will allow us to perform the evacuation without
inciting pandemic hysteria.  We'll even have the checkpoints administer
fake 'skin chemistry' tests to make sure that those leaving aren't
infected. I imagine simple litmus paper will do."

   "But Harper's story..."

   "She was bitten by one of the infected and, unfortunately, contracted a
mild form of the disease.  What she recalls experiencing was nothing more
than a hallucination, a fever dream.  To diminish her credibility, we'll
lock her up in quarantine for a few weeks before pronouncing her cured.  By
the time she's released, even she'll believe it was all a delusion."

   "That's horrible!"

   "No.  That is doing what is necessary to preserve our society."

   "But the news has already shown people rising from the dead..."

   "Many drugs, PCP for example, allow a person to endure injuries that
would drop anyone else.  In their panic, the team that shot at their
attackers managed to miss any area that would cause an immediate fatality."

   "That's ludicrous!"

   "Far less so than the alternative.  People will readily believe that
story over vampires.  If for no other reason than because they want to."

   "The fog..."

   "Was a freak meteorological phenomena that happened last night only
through sheer coincidence.  Such things happen all the time.  By noon,
we'll have people with a bunch of letters after their names explaining it
on every news show in the country."

   "I'm given to understand that the one who is causing all of this wants
the masses to know he exists.  If we foil his efforts, he'll likely just up
the ante again."

   "Then we had better destroy him tonight."

   When it looked like Tom was going to raise further objections, Dr. 
Nolan raised a hand to silence him.  "We have a lot of experience with this
sort of thing, Detective.  Believe me when I tell you that it will work. 
The question is: will you support us or will you be just another nutjob
that we have to discredit?"

   Tom's shoulders slumped, "With that set of options, I guess I really
don't have any other choice but to support you."

   "Excellent.  I'll see you at your briefing.

   Tom ended up giving his short course on the basics of vampire hunting to
a room of no more than twenty people.  The doors to the briefing room were
kept locked and guards stood outside to prevent any eavesdropping.  Tom
spent the rest of the morning standing behind Dr.  Nolan at a press
conference during which the doctor disseminated the new information
concerning the disease outbreak, announced the evacuation and declared the
vampire stories to be absolute nonsense.

   After a hasty lunch procured from the station's vending machines, Tom
spent several hours fending off attempts by Dr.  Nolan, Agent Roper's
replacement, and some two star general to learn more about the city's
"vampire ally," including her current location.  The evidence, including a
number of eye witness statements and the large number of dead ferals
littering the streets that morning, had been too strong for him to simply
deny her existence.  The meeting ended when Tom stood and walked resolutely
from the room, refusing to acknowledge the questions and demands that were
shouted after him.

   Agent Roper's replacement, Agent Morris, ran after Tom and grabbed him
by the shoulder.  "How can you be so obstinate?  Do you have any idea how
much we could learn from an accommodating vampire?  Your failure to
cooperate is putting a lot of lives at risk."



   Tom twisted out of his grasp and spun on him angrily, "You've been
saying that same shit for two hours now, and it still stinks.  Mia is a
friend and an ally.  She's saved more lives and killed more ferals than all
the rest of us combined.  I will not allow you to turn her into a lab rat
in some high security government facility.  As far as risking lives, I
think that the record speaks for itself.  Your predecessor's refusal to
listen to reason yesterday not only risked lives but cost them.  Lots of
them.  I have nothing else to say on the matter."

   Agent Morris let Tom go, but followed him with angry narrowed eyes until
he vanished from sight.

   Because the downtown area of the city had been the epicenter of vampire
activity, it was decided, by common consensus, that it would be the first
area to be evacuated.  To prevent any chance of witnesses who could throw
doubt on the official explanation of events, the evacuation of this area
was absolutely mandatory and any who sought to remain were unceremoniously
forced from their homes.  Once most of the people had been removed from the
downtown area, the evacuation spread to the outlying districts of the city,
though it was not strictly enforced there.  By mid-afternoon, the search
teams were able to switch from herding stragglers out of the area to
diligently combing through the otherwise empty buildings for dormant
undead.

   Despite Mia's efforts the night before, there was still an ungodly
number of them.  Tom's team alone found dozens.  Tom and his team, all of
whom had blank, shell shocked faces as a result of the emotional trauma of
dragging friends, coworkers, women and children out to burn in the sun,
had, through trial and error, developed a system for handling each body
that they found.  First, for record keeping purposes, they searched the
body for identification or, if there was none, took a photograph of the
feral's face.  Then, because of the violence with which the vampires
exploded when touched by the sun, they used grappling hooks attached to
ropes to drag the bodies into daylight.  When Tom took a quick break and
glanced into the sky, it was apparent that the other teams were meeting
with similar success: small plumes of greasy, black smoke rose from all
over the city.

   Shortly before sunset, Tom threw back the cover of a dumpster and found
himself staring into the lifeless face of Agent Roper.  He sank his
grappling hook into the undead agent's diaphragm so that the hook caught on
the rib cage.  He then gave the rope attached to the base of the hook a tug
to signal those on the other end.  The body was quickly pulled out into the
fading light of the sun.

   After Agent Roper had been reduced to charred bones, they tagged and
bagged his remains and threw him into the back of a dump truck that was
brimming with identical cargo.  He would be their last for the day. 
Emotionally and physically exhausted, Tom and his team trudged back to the
station.

   Upon arrival, they were relieved of the records they had made and then
were quickly briefed on the plans for the rapidly coming night.  Someone
involved in the planning had realized that IR gear should readily allow
those who had body heat to be distinguished from those who did not. 
Helicopters with FLIR were even now powering up to patrol the surrounding
countryside for any undead that attempted to leave the city without using
the roads.  Meanwhile, fresh teams were being equipped with the odd
combination of bows, crossbows and IR goggles to patrol the city for
roaming ferals that the daytime search parties had missed.  They were also
being ordered to search any house that continued to show signs of
occupation and was not the residence of a police officer whose continued
presence in the city was required.

   Following the briefing, the daytime search teams were thanked and
dismissed with orders to return to their homes and stay there until
morning. Tired and covered with soot, they dispersed to their cars to drive
to their mostly empty homes; their families having been evacuated with
everyone else.

   Before crawling into his own vehicle, Tom made a quick call to Dana to
tell her what was happening and that they would need to get Mia out of the
city before Tom's apartment was inevitably searched.

   As Tom pulled out of the parking lot, he noticed that he was nearly out
of gas.  With the service stations all closed, he had no choice but to go
to one of the fuel depots established for government use.  The line was
long and the sunset had faded from bruised purple to true night by the time
he was again on his way.

   When Tom rounded the corner onto the street that fronted his apartment
building, the sweep of his headlights caught the silhouette of a man
leaning against the outside wall of Zelda's Tavern.  In his peripheral
vision, he caught a glimpse of the man rushing toward his car with
unnatural speed.  Tom pressed the gas pedal to the floor and turned the
wheel hard in an effort to evade, but it was too late.  His car shook with
violent impact and the roof buckled downwards as the man landed atop it.

   Tom slammed on the brake in an attempt to throw his unwelcome rider from
the roof.  His efforts were greeted by soft, mocking laughter.  Suddenly,
Tom was deafened by the squeal of tearing metal as a long claw punched
through the roof above his head and was drawn swiftly towards the rear of
the car.

   Tom stared numbly upwards as the half of the roof covering his head was
peeled back like the lid of a sardine cane.  The night sky revealed by this
act was quickly blotted out by the silhouette of a man's head.  Tom reached
for the pistol in his shoulder holster, but a hand shot down through the
roof to claim the weapon first and throw it aside.  Tom heard the dull
clunk of the gun hitting the street and the sound filled him with despair..

   "Good evening, Detective.  How nice it is to finally make your
acquaintance," Arthur hissed, his voice dripping with malice.

   A fist flashed toward Tom's temple, moving far too fast to avoid. 
Dimly, Tom felt the other side of his head impact hard against the glass of
his driver's side window.  His last conscious memory was of being pulled
violently from the car and thrown over a shoulder.

   Chapter 29

   Alicia crept furtively through the dark and empty streets.  Earlier, her
Master had suggested that she again stay indoors under the protection of
the mercenaries.  He had also intimated that he had accomplished all he
could in this city and, after he tied up one final bit of unfinished
business, they would be leaving for fresh hunting grounds.  Perhaps even
New York.

   Fortunately, her Master's suggestion had been just that rather than an
order.  She had some unfinished business of her own to attend to.  Slipping
past band after band of vampire hunters, she traveled to one of the least
prosperous sections of the city.

   She smiled when she saw the light shining out of his apartment window.
She had correctly judged her quarry's nature.  His apathy and laziness had
overcome good sense; he hadn't evacuated.  She peered carefully up and down
the street before running up the rotting wooden steps that led to his door.

   Her loud knocks soon prompted a voice to call from within, "Ha!  I knew
ya couldn't stand being away from me, Sally!  I told ya that evacuation
bullshit..."

   His words cut off as he pulled the door open.

   "Yer not Sally," he said accusingly.  He then squinted at her through
eyes bleary from alcohol, "Alicia?  You get yer hair cut or sumtin'?"

   She looked at him with disgust.  He was dressed in a graying tank top
and badly stained briefs.  The tank top was too small; the hairy base of
his beer belly protruded from below it and folded over the top of his dirty
underwear.

   "Hello, Harry," Alicia said sweetly.  His head snapped backwards and he
flew across the room as her upper cut connected with his chin.

   "Cops are lookin' fer ya, bitch!  Getcher skank ass outa here or I'll
call 'em!  I swear!" he screeched frantically as he scrambled across the
floor away from her.

   Kicking the door closed behind her, Alicia stalked him through the
small, dreary apartment.  "Our vow was 'until death do us part,' Harry,"
she said calmly, "Not 'until some young whore flashes her tits at you.'"

   She stood over his cowering form, her lips pursed in contemplation,
"Hmm, now that I think about it, death probably already has parted us." Her
voice grew lower in pitch and filled with menace, "But what do you say we
just remove all doubt?"

   He squealed as she lifted him from the floor by the front of his shirt.
Drawing her hand back she slapped him repeatedly across the face.  With
each impact, a fine mist of blood sprayed out across the adjoining walls.
An occasional displaced tooth clattered along the floor.

   "Remember doing this to me after your binges?" she asked rhetorically,
"Good times.  Good times."

   "I'm thorry!" he shouted through cracked and broken lips.

   "Sorry isn't good enough," she replied, "Not by a long shot."

   She drew the arm that gripped his shirt back and then rapidly forward.
He slid across the floor before his head hit the opposite wall with a loud
crack.  As he clutched feebly at his head and mouth, she walked over to
again stand above him.

   "In all fifteen years that we were married, I don't think you once made
me cum with that tiny little thing you think of as a cock," she said as she
emphasized her point by bringing her foot down hard on the organ in
question and then grinding her foot back and forth.

   She withdrew her foot as he screamed and clutched at his injured member,
curling up into a tight ball.  She walked around him until she was standing
by his head.

   She pushed him over onto his back with her foot and stood on his upper
arms to pin him there.  "I think you owe me at least one good orgasm for
putting up with fifteen years of your bullshit," she mused.

   Drawing her dress up around her hips, she squatted down to grind her ass
into his face.  "I think licking my asshole would be a good place to
start."

   "Fuck you, bitch!" he shouted, though his words were muffled by her
thighs.

   "I don't think so, Harry," she replied calmly, "Not ever again.  But you
will lick my ass.  Now."

   When he continued to struggle, she took one of his hands in hers. 
Pulling his middle finger out straight, she twisted sharply.  With a sound
like popcorn popping, the bones and knuckles of the finger shattered. 
Harry screamed into her crotch.

   "Better start licking, Harry," she commanded, "Only nine left to go and
then I'll have to move on to other things." She traced a finger
suggestively down the center of his stomach to make certain that he didn't
miss the implication.

   His tongue stretched out to take a few tentative licks at her nether
hole.

   "Not good enough, Harry," she said as she straightened out his pinky.

   His tongue immediately began to lap forcefully at her anus.  She moaned
loudly in pleasure.  It wasn't really the touch of his tongue that she was
enjoying, although that was pleasant enough.  It was the power.  It was the
fact that he was compelled to do what she desired, without any regard for
his own wants or needs.  So it had been with the mercenaries several nights
before.  They knew what she and her Master were and had been more than
happy to follow her instructions and satisfy her every whim.  She would
never have to put up with abuse or neglect again.  No more would she be
forced to debase herself for any man.

   Except for her Master, of course.  For him she would do anything.  He
had given her a gift beyond her wildest imaginings.  Even a thousand years
of humiliation and pain would be a small price to pay for such a thing. 
Especially, she admitted to herself, since, as long as he was the one doing
such things, she would enjoy every minute.

   As she ground her bottom more firmly into her ex-husband's face, the
door burst open behind her.  She jumped to her feet as the room filled with
soldiers.  Several of them wore bulky IR goggles.

   One of them turned to look at her.  "She's one of them!" he shouted.

   She sprinted for the window.  She could hear arrows whizzing through the
air just behind her.  However, not all of the soldiers were equipped with
archaic weapons, there simply weren't enough to go around.  An assault
rifle on full automatic began to chatter and she could hear the ring of
expended brass hitting the floor.  Hot lead tore into her side, causing her
to cry out in pain.  Her Master had told her that bullets could do her no
lasting harm, but he hadn't informed her how badly they could still hurt.

   She stumbled and, as she slowed, the arrows began to find her, piercing
her arms, thighs and abdomen.  White hot pain lanced through her.  Compared
to this, the bullets had been pleasant.  She fell to the floor and cowered
back as the soldiers closed in for the kill.  A whimper escaped her throat
as one drew back his bowstring and took careful aim at the center of her
chest.

   From the other side of the room she heard Harry call out, "Yeah!  Kill
that fuckin' bitch!"

   She squeezed her eyes shut, knowing that her end was at hand.  But it
didn't come.  Fearfully, she partially opened one eye to see what fresh
torment they were preparing for her.  None of the soldiers were paying her
the slightest attention.  Eyes wide with shock and lips pulled back in
grimaces of pain they stood as motionless as statues, every muscle and
tendon standing out hard under taut skin.  As Alicia watched, their bodies
began to contort, limbs and backs twisting in ways that should not be
possible.  Cracks and pops filled the room as bones and joints gave way to
implacable pressure.  Blood and vomit fountained from several mouths as
they all fell to the floor.

   Alicia stared without comprehension at the men who had so suddenly and
inexplicably died.  Suddenly, the room reverberated with the sound of
massive wings beating the air and Alicia looked up just in time to shield
her face with a hastily raised arm as the double window in the living room
exploded inward.  A monstrous, glossy black bird glided into the room.  For
a moment, it was like Alicia was seeing it through the waves of heat that
rise from a desert road in midsummer.  Then Alicia gasped as the bird
seemed to collapse in on itself.  For the briefest instant, she saw...

   Alicia screamed in terror, the heels of her shoes kicking divots in the
wooden floor as she tried to escape from something that no sane Creator
could ever allow to exist.  Heedless of the arrows that tore ever deeper
into her flesh, she propelled herself across the room until her progress
was brought to a halt by a wall.  Even then, her feet continued to move
frenetically in an attempt to drive herself farther from...it.

   And then it was gone.  In its place was a tiny Asian woman with hair the
same color as the feathers of the great bird.  She strode purposefully
toward Alicia.  Alicia gibbered in horror as the woman tore the arrows from
her body and pulled her to her feet.  Then Alicia's head was ringing from
the force of the slap that the woman delivered across her face.

   "Get a hold on yourself, child," the woman commanded coldly.

   "What...who are you?" Alicia stammered.

   Rolling her eyes in exasperation, the woman answered, "I am the
nightmare that makes you wake in a cold sweat.  I am the shadow in the dark
that makes your hair stand on end and a shiver go down your spine.  I am
death.  And so are you, child.  Now, act like it!  Stand straight!  Put
your head back!  A wolf does not slump and cower like a cur when it walks
among sheep!"

   Whimpering with the pain from her injuries, Alicia still did her best to
comply; something in the woman's voice allowed for no thought of
disobedience.

   The woman noticed her discomfort, "Yes, little one.  Wood hurts and the
wounds that it inflicts are slow to heal.  Still, the pain will fade in
time.  See that you learn from it while it lasts."

   Returning her stare to the corpse strewn room, Alicia asked fearfully,
"How did you do that?"

   "That is nothing you need concern yourself with for several millennia,"
the woman answered.

   The woman glided across the room to stand over Harry.  He, too, had seen
what had been revealed inside the shimmers of change.  There was nothing of
sanity in the eyes which stared blankly into space, no acknowledgment of
the woman's presence.

   Shaking her head in disbelief, the woman asked, "You disobeyed your
Master and risked his wrath for this?  You risked true death for this?  Did
I just save a fool?"

   "No, uh..."

   "You may call me, Lei."

   "Thank you, Lei," Alicia said humbly, "for saving me.  I'm not a fool. I
just needed to kill him, before my Master took me far from here for good.
He hurt me so much for so long..."

   "Well, finish your business quickly, child, and let us be gone from this
place," Lei interrupted brusquely.

   When Alicia continued to hesitate, Lei turned to face her, a perfect
eyebrow lifted in query.

   "I'm sorry, Lei, it's just that after all he's done to me, I didn't want
his death to be easy."

   With a snort of laughter, Lei answered, "So be it.  Begin your feeding.
You need it.  I shall take care of the rest."

   Alicia knelt and pulled Harry forward.  Pleasure and warmth replaced her
pain as his blood filled her mouth.  As Alicia fed, Lei pulled Harry's
shirt up to bare his skin and placed her hand on his back.  Alicia watched
in fascination as Kei's hand seemed to melt into his flesh and writhing
tendrils shot forth under his skin, spreading across his back from the
point of contact.

   As Harry's body began to convulse, Lei whispered, "Reach out to him with
your mind.  You wanted him to suffer.  Feel his agony.  Revel in it for the
fleeting moment it will last."

   Alicia did as instructed.  His pain was greater than Alicia would have
believed that a human body could endure.  It was so intense that her mind
initially shrank back from it.  But Lei was right, Alicia wanted this.  A
smile twisted the corners of her mouth as she mentally embraced his agony,
savoring it until the last of his life flowed into her.

   Amused, Lei commented, "I understand what Arthur sees in you, girl." The
smile faded from her lips as she continued, "Unfortunately for you, I am
not here by sheer happenstance.  We have business, you and I."

   Alicia glanced up into Lei's eyes and found that she could not look
away. The glinting black orbs seemed to grow larger and larger until they
encompassed her vision and consumed all thought.

   Chapter 30

   Dana fidgeted next to Mia on the bed, checking her watch every few
seconds.  Moments before sunset, she bent and pressed her lips to Mia's. 
She thrilled at the sensation of having the vampiress come to life beneath
her.  The limp, still lips became firm and pressed fervently back against
her own and an arm curled up around her to pull her into a tight embrace.

   The kiss lingered for long minutes until, finally, Dana drew back with a
grin.

   Mia smiled back up at her, "That was an interesting way to wake up. 
What brought that on?"

   Dana snuggled in close as she explained, "When I was a kid, my favorite
story was Snow White and the Seven Dwarves.  I always wondered what it
would be like to bring someone back to life with a kiss.  Now I know. 
Sorta, anyway."

   Mia laughed, "That's the first time I've ever played the part of a
princess in distress." She turned her head to look around the room; her
extended senses searched the apartment as her more mundane ones checked her
immediate surroundings.  "Where's Tom?" she asked.

   "He called a little while ago and said that he would be home soon," Dana
replied, "He also said that we were going to try to get you out of the
city." She gestured toward a few overnight bags that were heaped on the
floor near the door, "I took the liberty of packing some of his things and
what few clothes you have, but I have no idea how we're going to get you
out."

   "Should be easy enough.  I'll just run like hell and meet you outside
the city."

   "I don't think it will be that simple.  On tv, they were talking about
the helicopters that would be patrolling the perimeter of the city.  They
showed one flying at a distance and it was equipped with FLIR." At Mia's
confused look, she explained, "Forward Looking Infra Red.  Along with
regular spotlights, it means that they can spot you from the air and be
able to tell that you're a vampire."

   "If they know I'm there, maybe, but I'm the same temperature as my
surroundings.  If they don't know where I am to begin with, they shouldn't
be able to pick me out of the background.  Right?"

   Dana looked dubious, "I don't know, but would you want to take that
risk?"

   "When Tom gets here, we'll sit down as a group and see if we can come up
with any ideas.  For all we know, he might have already made arrangements."

   "Sounds good." Dana's face took on an exaggerated look of innocence as
her fingers traced lightly up Mia's stomach.  "Whatever shall we do to
amuse ourselves until then?"

   With a laugh, Mia pulled Dana's lips back to hers.

   Quite some time later, Mia rolled languidly off the bed.  Dana remained
flat on her back, too out of breath to move.  Almost purring, she struggled
to sit up and then panted, "Wow.  Just wow.  I remember hearing a joke
about a guy who could lick his eyebrows, but I never thought that I would
ever meet someone who actually could."

   With a broad grin, Mia turned back to face Dana.  "Pffft.  He could only
lick one at a time?" she asked derisively as her tongue snaked out. 
Somewhere in the vicinity of her nose, it divided in two.  Each half
stretched up to daintily smooth an eyebrow into place.

   Dana snorted with laughter and then fell back to the bed in a giggling
fit.  Mia quickly joined her.  Several minutes later, still snickering
occasionally, they crawled out of the bed and began to dress.

   "How long has it been since sundown?" Mia asked.

   Dana dug around in the pile of hastily discarded clothes for a few
seconds before triumphantly pulling her watch from the mix.  "Almost an
hour and a half," she answered, "Damn.  No wonder I'm so tired."

   Mia's face creased with worry, "Shouldn't Tom have been back by now?"

   "Yeah, he should have," Dana replied, her voice showing that she shared
Mia's concern.  She dug her cell phone from the pile of clothes and punched
in his number.  "Straight to voice mail," she reported.

   The two quickly dressed and then Dana called Mark, who also hadn't heard
anything.  Agitated now, Mia unsealed the living room window and peered out
into the dark.  With a hasty, "Stay here!" she leapt from the window and
ran to Tom's car which sat abandoned and askew at the end of the street.

   The roof had been partially torn open and the driver's side door had
been ripped completely off.  Mia could smell blood and the cold scent of
her former Master.  She quickly searched the interior of the vehicle and
pocketed the cell phone she found lodged between the seats.  As she circled
the area looking for any hint as to the direction that Tom had been taken,
she caught another brief whiff of blood scent.

   Following her nose she found a few drops on the ground roughly fifty
yards from the car.  Aligning herself with the car and the blood droplets,
she continued forward.  After another fifty yards, she found more drops. 
As Mia moved on this pattern continued.  The trail was so perversely easy
to follow that it could be nothing but a trap.  Briefly, she considered
calling Mark or Dana to arrange for reinforcements, but she knew that if
she showed up with help, Arthur would kill Tom immediately, if he hadn't
already.

   Grimly, she pressed on.  There was no other choice.  The trail continued
in a nearly perfect straight line.  She knew where it would end long before
she reached it.  She topped a hill and there it was, the abandoned steel
mill and industrial ghost town in which she had thought they had disposed
of Arthur's body only a few nights before.



   Chapter 31

   The all encompassing darkness was comfortable and safe.  Tom didn't want
to leave it.  But something alien swooped around the fringes of his
consciousness, driving the shadows back.  Unwillingly, he was herded up
into the light.

   As he came to awareness, he was nearly overwhelmed by the sensations
that poured in from his abused body.  His head throbbed with pain.  Idly he
wondered if he had gotten away with a concussion or if his skull was as
fractured as it felt.  He was lying on his side in what seemed to be
rubble; hard, sharp things pressed and poked uncomfortably against him up
and down the length of his body.  After a brief struggle, he managed to
open his eyes.  Even with blurred vision, he could make out a face, only
inches from his own, staring curiously back at him.

   In a soft, cultured voice, Arthur said, "Welcome back, Detective.  You
were quite difficult to wake, but I just couldn't bear to allow you to
sleep through this."

   Tom felt himself being lifted from the floor by his arm.  He dangled
loosely in Arthur's grip, his knees scraping on the rough floor.  From his
new vantage point he could see that he was in the ruins of a basement, lit
by a multitude of flickering candles.  The portion of the house above him
was intact, or at least the first floor was still in place.  The other half
had collapsed completely, filling the cellar below it with a mound of
rotting wood that ramped up over the sides of the foundation.

   Arthur raised him higher and he could feel rough wood scraping against
the back of his hand and wrist.  Tom knew he should be distressed over his
predicament, but he couldn't even summon enough curiosity to look up. 
Arthur held Tom in place with one hand while holding something in front of
Tom's nose with the other.  Arthur waited patiently until Tom managed to
focus his eyes on the object and then chuckled when Tom gasped in
recognition and fresh fear.

   Tom finally began to struggle, but his blows were too feeble to so much
as inconvenience the immortal.  Silently, Arthur traced the point of the
rusted railroad spike up the length of Tom's arm, stopping just below his
wrist.  Staring into Tom's eyes, Arthur began to push.

   Tom screamed as fresh pain lanced through him.  Hot liquid ran in a
torrent down his arm as the thick, iron spike passed through his flesh and
into the wood beyond.  Desperately, Tom sought to return to the darkness,
to escape from the pain in the oblivion of unconsciousness.  But the alien
presence was still lurking in his mind and it blocked him from that
comfort.

   "Come now, Tom," Arthur whispered in his ear, "These are the last
moments of your life.  Surely you don't really want to miss them, however
unpleasant they may be."

   Tom screamed again as Arthur spiked his other arm to the transverse
floor joyce that ran across the basement ceiling.  His arms had been spread
wide apart so that his feet dangled inches from the floor, forcing the
pierced and battered flesh surrounding the spikes to bear his full weight.
Tom gritted his teeth as he tried to get a grip on the white hot agony that
flared brightly each time the tremors of his body tore those awful wounds
anew.  Mercifully, the overloaded nerves in his arms soon numbed and the
pain receded slightly.

   Defiantly, Tom spat in Arthur's face and hissed, "I don't care what you
do to me.  I'm not telling you anything."

   Arthur's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he threw back his head in
laughter.  "Oh my dear boy," he said condescendingly once the laughter had
faded, "this isn't an interrogation.  Have you learned nothing of us from
your time with Mia?  I already know all of your secrets, from the time you
were twelve and pleasured yourself in the catholic school bathroom after
glimpsing the cleavage of one of the nuns to the fact that Mia is even now
in the bedroom of your apartment along with another delectable morsel.

   "You once used Mia as bait in an attempt to lure me into your pathetic
little trap.  I am merely returning the favor.  I left a trail that she
should easily be able to follow.  On that subject, Thomas, I could use your
advice, as one who, like myself, knows Mia intimately.  What do you think
would hurt her more when she arrives: to find you dead; to find you little
more than a rabid animal; or to be forced to fight you after I turn you
into a true fledgling?  Hmmm, then again, perhaps it would be best to keep
you alive until the moment of her arrival and then throw your still beating
heart at her feet."

   Arthur placed a clawed finger under Tom's chin and pushed upwards until
Tom was forced to meet his eyes.  "No opinion on the subject, Thomas?  Or
are you simply trying to play the part of the strong, silent hero?  Ahhh,
that's it, isn't it?  Would you care to wager on whether I can make you
break that silence?  If you can stay quiet for five minutes, I will leave
you here alive for Mia to find and neither of you will ever hear from me
again.  If not, I will make you watch as I crush your lady love beneath my
heel before brutally violating her.  Then, the last thing that you see will
be the look of anguish in her eyes as she watches you die."

   Arthur hooked a claw in the neck of Tom's shirt and drew it downward
before pushing the tattered remnants of the garment to the sides to bare
Tom's chest.  Stepping backwards, Arthur pulled his belt loose and twined
the end with the buckle around his hand.  For a minute the only sounds in
the basement were the sharp cracks of leather striking and cutting skin and
Tom's ragged pants for breath.  Then these sounds were joined by a
prolonged wail.

   Not pausing in his labors, Arthur quietly commented, "You lose, Thomas."

   Suddenly, Arthur staggered backwards as pain and fear flashed through
his bond to Alicia.  He took a few steps in the direction of his distressed
fledgling, his hand stretching out as if to touch her across the distance
that separated them.  Wordlessly, he spun about and ran up the pile of
rubble to exit the basement.  As he rushed in Alicia's direction, her pain
faded and was replaced by pleasure and satisfaction.  He slowed and then
stopped as all emotion faded from the bond, and she began to move rapidly
towards him.

   He had been gone from the basement for no more than ten minutes, but
when he returned there were two cars parked on cracked and potholed street
in front of the collapsed house.  Arthur pushed his awareness into the
basement and watched as five men, four wearing army uniforms and the other
a black suit, picked their way carefully through the rubble.  Focusing on
the one in the suit, Arthur rifled quickly through his memories.

   He almost gave away his presence with a laugh.  The man, Agent Morris,
Agent Roper's replacement, had placed a tracking device on Tom's shoulder
earlier in the day.  He had thought to use it to track Tom back to Mia. 
With all of the agent's training in the ways of duplicity, it had never
once occurred to him that Tom would be so naive as to keep such a grand
prize in his apartment.

   Arthur watched the men walk slowly and cautiously across the basement.
One of them whispered, "Jesus Christ Almighty," when they finally caught
sight of the detective, who had once more lapsed into unconsciousness. 
Again Arthur had to stifle his laughter; the man's curse was so oddly
appropriate under the circumstances.

   The men rushed forward and quickly determined that they could not free
Tom without a crowbar.  As they clustered around the hanging body, Arthur
walked to the open end of the foundation to cut off their escape.

   Gliding down the ramp of debris, he called out in a voice ringing with
amusement, "Good evening, Agent Morris.  Welcome to the party.  I
understand that you want to meet a vampire; that you want to try to capture
one and tame it."

   Arthur swatted away the arrows that flew towards him as casually and
indifferently as an ordinary man would swipe at annoying insects.  "You
really should be more careful what you wish for," he drawled as he closed
the gap between them.

   Chapter 32

   When Mia arrived at the semi-collapsed house, she found Arthur taunting
and toying with one man in camouflage and another in a suit.  Three other
men, broken and bleeding, were strewn about the room among toppled and
guttering candles.  Mia ignored them all, completely unable to tear her
sight from the form of her injured lover.  If she couldn't hear the slow
and feeble beating of his heart, she would have believed him to be dead. 
Flaps of skin hung loosely from his torso, flayed off by the touch of a
whip.  A low, pained moan of sympathy escaped her lips as she saw the
manner in which he was being suspended from the floor.

   Her attention was drawn by the crack of gunfire, hugely amplified in the
enclosed space.  The man in the suit, now the only one still standing, had
abandoned his bow and raised a large handgun, which he held in a double
handed grip.  Not even Arthur could dodge bullets in such close quarters.
Large bloody holes appeared in the back of Arthur's suit jacket as the
agent rapidly emptied his clip.  If Arthur experienced any pain from these
injuries, he showed no sign of it.  Laughing lightly, he darted forward and
grabbed the agent's hands and gun.  Mia heard the crackle of bones breaking
and the agent sank to his knees, his face pale with pain.

   Taking advantage of Arthur's distraction, Mia rushed into the basement
with all the speed she could muster.  She raised hands rippling with change
in front of her as she charged.  Her deadly, sharp claws were mere feet
from his back when he spun, dodging her blow even as his free arm flailed
out at her.  She had too much momentum to be able to dodge quickly;
Arthur's arm caught her shoulder and flung her into the wall with such
force that dust filtered down from the weathered floor boards above them.

   As Mia regained her feet, Arthur took hold of the agent's wrists and
swung him forcefully around.  Mia dove back down to the floor and rolled
beneath the blow, hearing the wind whistle around the agent's body as he
passed above her and then the sickening wet thud as he impacted with the
wall.

   Mia sprang to her feet and spun to face her adversary.  Arthur had
dropped the dead agent and now sported claws of his own.

   They circled each other for a moment until Arthur called out, "Wake up,
Thomas!  Your white knight has arrived to save you!" He then cackled with
derisive laughter.

   Tom laboriously raised his head, and his eyes opened to the merest of
slivers.  "Just run, Mia," he croaked despairingly, "Don't worry about me.
Just run."

   "Yes, Bergthora, why don't you run?" Arthur cried out in delight,
"Hunting you down and catching you would be ever so much fun.  I'll even
give you a minute head start.  Of course, I will amuse myself with your
friend while I wait."

   Mia refused to be distracted.  Gritting her teeth, she altered the
changes to her arms and hands so that her skin became hard and chitinous
and then moved forward to attack.  The room echoed with a sound like
continuous rolling thunder as the two immortals exchanged a flurry of
blows, parries and feints.  Within moments, both were covered in a light
sheen of blood and their clothing was in tatters from where claws had only
narrowly missed striking true.

   After a particularly violent exchange, they separated and circled each
other.  Arthur gazed at Mia with grudging respect, "I have to say, my dear
Bergthora, that fighting for the life of your mate has done wonders for
your cunning and ardor.  I am most impressed.  Most impressed, indeed."

   "Shut up and fight, asshole," Mia hissed as she resumed her attack.

   The two moved around the room in a blur of motion, clawed and armored
fist meeting clawed and armored fist in furious and rapid succession.  Dust
fell in constant streams from the ceiling as the old timbers shook from the
raw noise and fury of those tremendous impacts.

   Seeing an opening, Mia drove her fist at Arthur's head.  He ducked as
his hand came up to take hold of her wrist, his claws grating across her
chitinous armor like nails on a chalkboard.  Spinning, he forced her arm
behind her back and drew it inexorably upward.  Mia grunted in pain as her
shoulder dislocated.  Once Mia's hand was behind her neck, Arthur applied
pressure to force her to her knees and then her stomach.  He straightened
and stomped down on her hand and the neck beneath it to hold her in place.

   "You were a worthy adversary, Mia," he said quietly, "So much so, that I
almost regret what must happen next, but your Tom and I did have a wager."

   As Mia heard his zipper descend, she called out in a voice cracked with
pain, "It doesn't have to end like this, Arthur.  Release Tom and I'll
serve you willingly for the rest of my existence."

   "I actually considered that, my dear.  Well, not releasing Tom, but I
did think about simply ripping away your memories of the past few weeks to
return you to how you were when we came to this city.  Alas, dear child,
I'm afraid that you have been replaced, rendered obsolete by a fledgling
who actually appreciates and deserves the Gift that I have given her.  In
fact," he raised his head as he checked the bond to his fledgling, "you
should be meeting her any second now."

   As if summoned, Alicia dropped lightly down into the basement and took
in the scene at a glance.

   "Hello, Alicia, my dear," Arthur greeted her amiably, "I trust you are
well; I sensed that you had some difficulties earlier."

   "Hello, Master," Alicia replied quietly, "I was hungry so I went hunting
and ran into one of the groups of vampire hunters.  They hurt me, but I'm
fine now.  Just a little shaken up."

   "I'm glad to hear it, my dear," Arthur said, "Although we will certainly
have to discuss your disobedience later." Mia was astonished to hear actual
concern and relief in his voice.

   "As you wish, Master," Alica answered as she walked in a slow circle
around Tom.

   She breathed deeply, taking in the delightful aroma of his fear and
despair.  Leaning in, she ran her tongue lightly over his chest, licking up
the blood that still seeped from his flayed skin.  She quivered in pleasure
as the warm fluid trickled down her throat.

   "May I have this one when you're done with him, Master?" she asked.

   Arthur snorted with amusement, "Actually, my dear, I think that would
work out perfectly.  But first, please be so kind as to disrobe the
ungrateful wretch beneath my foot."

   As Alicia strutted over to comply, Arthur twisted his head down until he
could look into Mia's face.  "As I mentioned earlier, Mia, Tom and I had a
wager.  He lost.  Now, I'm sorry to say that I am going to violate you most
gruesomely and then force you to watch as Alicia drains the last bits of
life from your mortal beloved.  Now that I think of it, there is still
plenty of time before dawn.  Perhaps we'll bleed you out a bit and see how
you fare against the feral that he'll become."



   Watching the hope die in her eyes was everything he had hoped it would
be.
   

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