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Twists, (and Turns) Among The Wampyr

Life is complicated... Even for the Undead...

San Francisco, if you know it well, is a 24 hour city. Like our kind, the city never sleeps.

Karen and I sit in a darkened booth in the far corner of a members club, very select, you understand. Soft music plays, a susurrus of distant conversation reaching us as the assembled mortal throng describe their day. You'd know some of them.

"$100 a gramme, but it's not cut and I say that as a friend..." (This from a perspiring long haired nervous type who it appears samples his own product.)

"Did you SEE the rushes? The guy can't light! Jesus, I look 30 years old!" (This from an actress who is 44...)

"Look, my wife is here right now but this is my private cell number... Call me tomorrow." (This, to a pretty boy, from a Best Leading Man Oscar winning actor you have lusted over, ladies. And gentlemen, perhaps.)

"I cost five large a night, Sweetheart. And you'll tip, trust me." (This from a hooker who looks like she could model for Westwood. Maybe she has?)

I'm smoking a cigarette and the Contessa is toying with a Cafe Creme cigar. We are both drinking wine. We have had a fruitful evening and we are relaxing. Both of us are sated, having... dined, earlier if separately. It pleasures us to feel the aura of the warm, their concerns and nonsensical considerations amusing to us. Karen catches my eyes and winks, her pupils purple in the club's black light. I like the casual company of the warm better than she does but she indulges me. She's thinks it's cute that I still am fascinated by their mortality... But frankly you bore her.

But then suddenly a change! A frisson in the air! We both feel it. My eyes narrow in suspicion but hers widen in interest. We both see him at the same time. A black clad young man enters the room. He wears a cashmere beret from which his snow white long hair frames his vulpine face. His long leather coat flies as he glides to the bar, ordering then lifting his face as he feels what we feel. As he smells what I smell. His kind is here. Our kind.

Lucius Ammaticus. Perhaps the only person, (if you'll excuse the word) to whom I wish hell and pain. It would take a book to tell you why, so I shall attempt to do it in three words.

He turned Karen.

 And for that she will love him more than she can ever love me.

 Lucius joins us. He kisses Karen's hand and then touches her curls.

 "As ever, My Darling..."

 Her eyes shine at his attention. I cannot compete. My cold skin crawls.

 So I leave in high dudgeon and go back to the house as I hear her cry of protest and his laughter.

 This is where it starts to go wrong.

 I'm pouring myself a glass of wine when the Contessa's little maid arrives in the drawing room. She's dressed in a virginal night gown of white cotton. She asks if I need anything and inquires after her mistress. I tell her that the Contessa is engaged for the evening and I ask her to join me in a drink. And I never intended what happened to happen.

 We sit and talk. She, (Consuela, you remember...) is aware that her mistress and I are not as others. But not aware of why. The girl and I talk. Normally. Like people. (And I miss that, you know... Being people... Karen thinks that's gauche.) The girl sips her wine. I refill her glass.

 She's from a place in Mexico called Xauanteca. It's hardly a village. She tells me how she came to come to San Fransisco and work for us. The wine relaxes her and I fill our glasses again. You must understand I didn't mean this...

 But she is so beautiful and warm. And I move and kiss her. The feel of her reminds me of something I had forgotten for decades. She moves into me and moans. I lift her nightdress, my other hand on her breasts. So warm. We kiss. I feel her unshaven pussy under my fingers and I push into her. Soft moss. She squeals in pleasure. My finger is in her cunt, moving. My head drops and I eat her as my hand moves in her and she comes. And because I can, I lift her and with my face between her legs I take her aloft. She giggles in delight at the flying and the fact that her pussy is being eaten. Her cotton nightdress is twisted in my fist. I'm licking in her like a tiger. She's coming again.

 And I lost it... (I admit it!)

 I bit her. And then I bit at my lip as we kissed so that she would turn. So that she would taste me. My blood and hers. It was irresponsible. I know that now. But you have no idea how lonely it is being...

 Oh who cares...

 And as I took her to bed she cuddled and held me and wanted more. And I gave her what she needed. I'm not proud of it.

 Karen arrived before dawn, as I was smoking a cigarette in the main hall. She looked contented if disheveled. She called for her maid.

 I said, "We need to talk..."

"What have you done with my girl, Sir? WHERE is Consuela?"

"Karen, it just happened... I couldn't help myself, Darling..."

"Stefan... What have you done?"

In answer, I opened the door.

The girl floated into the room. She glided towards her mistress, her eyes shining as she discovered this new way of moving. She was dressed now in a Pale Blue Satin ball-gown I'd kept in one of the dressing rooms, her hair piled high atop her pretty face and her make-up nakedly stark against her pale copper skin. The child caught sight of this new version of herself in the mirror, (we do cast reflections, don't be silly) and giggled charmingly. She twirled in self-adoration, her pleased smile showing the new points upon the teeth in her perfect painted mouth. She presented herself before Karen and curtsied daintily.

"Do I please you, My Mistress?"

"You are exquisite, Child," murmered The Contessa, "Quite exquisite. But you have no Mistress now, My Love. You are of us now, and we have no masters or mistresses, My Lady Consuela. Tell me Child, you are hungry, no?"

"I feel a... I feel a thirst in me, My Mistr... My Lady Karen..." whispered the child.

"Then we shall take to the night, Little One, and find a way to quench that thirst!"

The girl glanced, almost coquettishly in my direction.

"Will the Lord Flashman be dining with us, Lady Karen?"

"I think not tonight, My Little Darling..." said the Contessa, shooting me a look that implied a later discussion... "Tonight the Lord Flashman will amuse himself... But come now, take my hand, Child... I have things to teach you..."

I heard the girl squeal in delight as they ran to the open windows and flew.

 You must understand, I didn't mean to hurt anyone. It was a mistake. And for a while it was blissful and the little one was like a daughter to us. We loved her. And nothing like what happened the night I turned her ever happened again. Of course not. But if I'm to be really honest with you I'm not exactly what you'd call a perfect vampire. Karen is much better at the whole thing. And poor Consuela didn't learn fast enough...

 (Do you want to know what happened?)

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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