TearsOf A Vamp Chapters Five and Six
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TEARS OF A VAMP Chapters One And Two free porn video
(((((Not really an erotic story line. Just an idea for a new book so I thought I'd get feed back on how the beginning might be improved and if you think you want more...)))))
Chapter One
It was a dark and stormy night...
Sorry, I know it's pretty cheesy but I've always wanted to begin a story like that. Over the years I've written many stories. Some for fun, others for money or fame. Sometimes for all three. But never have I written my story. So as cheesy as it may be, my opening is perfectly correct. It was a dark and stormy night that my story begins...
Early 21st Century... Lexington, Kentucky
My supper was finished. I was nursing my cola, wondering if I should just make a run for my house. Rain poured down and lightning flashed outside the large panes of glass which formed the entire wall between the wet outside and the cozy inside of the small, family friendly restaurant. A late evening thunderstorm wasn't unexpected in August. The heat and humidity would build throughout the day. Thunder clouds would build higher and higher in the sky and then all hell would let loose as the temperature dropped with the setting sun.
No one was waiting for my table so I didn't feel guilty keeping the table to myself. It wasn't like I was denying my waitress another customer and tip. Many tables were occupied but some were still open for new customers. But a new customer hadn't walked in since the rain had started. Between the heavy cloud cover and the lateness of the hour, it was pitch black outside. Strobes of lightning would light the street as bright as day and then the darkness would reclaim the streets. The last of my cola slurped up my straw and I was just reaching for my wallet when she appeared.
My first sight of Tiffany was as a form under the streetlight on the corner as she dashed across the street for the door of the restaurant. Splashing in the puddles she was as wet as any woman could be and looked as mad as any cat tossed into a pool. My cousin had done that once with the family cat. Tiffany looked just as mad as that cat had looked after dragging her wet fur out of that pool, only without the hissing and barred teeth.
She shook herself like a cat, too, as she stood in the entrance. That took my mind off the family cat since her t-shirt was plastered to a very nice, very wet chest sans bra. Sizing up the place, she walked to table next to mine and plopped herself in a chair. Grabbing a wad of napkins, she began wiping her pretty face. The contrast between her pale skin and bright blue eyes to her jet black, shoulder length hair was striking.
"Look all you want, you perv."
I hastily raised my gaze to her face. "Ahh, sorry..." I began but she cut me off with a hand wave.
She shrugged. "I don't care. My boobs have been seen before. By a lot more people at once than are in here. I hit Mardi Gras every year I can. I get lots of beads," She said with a smile. Picking at the wet material of her shirt she pulled it away from her skin and let it drop. It went back to outlining every curve she had including two, very hard nipples. She shrugged again in resignation, "At least I'm wearing a shirt."
Grabbing another handful of napkins she wiped her arms and hands dry. Moving quickly, she invited herself to my table and sat across from me. "Sorry to drop in unannounced but you're the only one sitting alone. I usually have better manners but that damned rain! I'm Tiffany," she said thrusting a now dry hand across the table.
"I'm Daniel," I completed the intro and shook her hand. "Ahh, would you like something to eat," I asked as my waitress approached.
"I could do with a bite. But not here. I was just headed for the club down the street when this," Tiffany waved a disgusted hand at the rain, "appeared out'a nowhere."
Tiffany gave me an appraising look, "I've got a pretty good idea of what I want to eat later."
"I didn't know they served food at the club."
Tiffany laughed at nothing I could see. Since Darlene was at the table anyway, I paid for my food and added a good tip. I ate here often and knew all the wait staff.
Tiffany sighed and picked at her wet shirt again. "Screw it. No clubbing for me tonight. The apartment I stayed at today doesn't have a clothes dryer."
"My house is just down the street and I have a clothes dryer. I'm really not a perv," I hastily added. "I'm just offering dry clothes. I've got a robe you can wear while your clothes dry. I just don't want to go home and think about you sitting here cold and wet and maybe getting sick or something without at least offering."
"Why, aren't you the Southern gentleman. I'd like that if you won't mind a house guest for a few hours. Wet clothes just suck."
My house was only a block and a half away but it was raining so hard my clothes were as soaked as Tiffany's by the time we ran up my driveway to the side door leading to the garage and laundry room. There were towels in the dryer that I hadn't folded yet. We used them to towel off our faces and arms. I told Tiffany to wait and I'd get her a robe.
"Fuck that," she said taking hold of the hem of her shirt and stripping it over her head. Tossing it into the dryer, "Don't look so shocked. I've already given you a wet t-shirt show." She toed off her sneakers and while I stood there her jeans, socks and finally her panties went into the dryer. "Your turn."
I was in shock. It had been a while since I'd seen a naked woman. I'm not gay, I just haven't had much time to date while in grad school. Women taking their clothes off in front of me was unusual. A woman looking like Tiffany taking her clothes off in front of me was incredible. In bare feet she was maybe 5'9". Breasts just on the large size for her slender frame. Perfect hourglass figure. Her skin was pale without bikini lines.
"Hey! Your turn. Get those wet clothes off. I don't want you to get sick either."
I hesitated. I wasn't in nearly as good a shape as Tiffany. I've been 40 to 50 pounds past my recommended weight for my height of 5'10" since high school. I almost always wear a t-shirt at the pool and not because I sunburn.
Tiffany finally gave up on my moving and began unbuttoning my shirt. I came out of my daze enough to begin helping and soon she was stripping my briefs off. I had the expected anatomical response any heterosexual male would have in the presence of a beautiful, naked woman. It was impossible to hide since it was at eye level to Tiffany as she knelt to strip my briefs down far enough for me to step out of.
Tossing my clothes into the dryer she turned the dial and started the dry cycle. Taking the initiative again, Tiffany wrapped her arms around me and went up on her toes for a kiss. She began pushing me towards the door that led into the house.
"Wait. Wait, wait... The clothes need a fabric softener sheet," I managed to break lip contact long enough to gasp out.
"You're k**ding, right," Tiffany drew back and asked in disbelief. "A naked woman is grinding her crotch against your cock, offering a night of wild sex and you're thinking of laundry?"
"I guess not," I said and let myself be kissed and pushed to sit on the den couch which was as far as we made it.
The rest of the night was a haze. I remember Tiffany straddling my lap and lowering herself around my dick while nuzzling and sucking on my neck which was extremely pleasurable. I came almost as soon as she lowered herself onto me while still trying to give me a hickey.
Tiffany didn't seem disappointed and I was still hard afterwards. The sex after that was what began to blur. She pulled away from my neck and began moving her hips slowly over my lap. In this position her breasts were moving close to my face and I pulled her close enough to capture a nipple. I was sucking hard on her breast when she gasped and pulled back to sit up straight. Her hand raised the breast I'd been sucking on so she could get a good look at the small cut, a shallow sc**** really, on her skin.
"Damn it, damn it, dammit," she yelled climbing off me. Pacing the room, she stopped to look at her breast again. Raising clenched fists she yelled, "FUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!"
My head swam when I tried to stand up to try and calm her down. I couldn’t seem to make my legs and arms work together and sat back down with a whuumph onto the couch. It was just a tiny, barely red scratch. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I chipped a tooth last week on a walnut shell and I guess it cut you. It's not that much real..."
Tiffany interrupted me to yell, "You don't understand, you idiot! I've already fed from you. Once your blood mixes with mine, if you take even a little back you're gonna Turn! Fuck this shit," she muttered and began to pace again. Stopping in mid-stride, she seemed to have made up her mind about something.
"This is your house, right? No one else lives here," she asked. "No relatives dropping by?"
"Yea, I live here alone. My relatives live in Eastern Kentucky. They never drop by without calling. What do you mean by Turn? Look, I'm sorry my tooth cut you but..."
"Just shut up. Just shut the fuck up. Don't make this harder for me."
"Make what harder?" Man, I was really woozy.
"I have to kill you, you big, stupid human!"
With a jump that covered an impossible distance, she landed on me and drove me back into the couch cushions. This time when her mouth went to my neck there was nothing sexual about it. It hurt like hell when she bite down and then all the pain vanished in a wash of euphoria. I was twice her body weight yet I couldn't break the hold of her arms and legs around me to push her away.
I felt my skin tear and, God help me, I came, splashing cum on her stomach and mine as the pleasure I was feeling doubled and then doubled again. Still she bit deeper. I heard a sucking sound under my ear and then I heard and felt nothing at all.
Chapter II
My next memories are all a jumble. I would swim up from a deep sleep when Tiffany came near. She'd whimper as she'd open her own wrist with her teeth. The smell of blood would rouse me more and I'd drink as much as I could of her thick, rich blood for as long as she offered her wrist.
‘I'll have more for you soon,’ she'd whisper as I'd fall back into my dreamless sleep.
I had no idea how many times this scene was repeated until one time her wrist wasn't enough. I wanted more and her amazing strength was no match for mine as I pulled her down and bit hard on her neck. Her cry wasn't one of pain, however. The harder I bit the more her cries sounded like the cries of a woman having an orgasm.
I drained Tiffany of every drop of blood I could coax from the tear in her throat before pushing her away. She dropped, drained of blood and strength to the floor beside the bed. Hearing her moans of orgasm, I went back to my dreamless sleep.
There was one feeding I remember more than any other. I have no memory of when it occurred in my schedule of feedings but Tiffany smelled differently that time. More alive. Every mouthful from her wrist was intoxicating. When the flow from her wrist began to slow it was her who offered me her neck. When I bit this time her cries were again of pleasure. Orgasmic cries as the smell of her sex filled the room. She didn't try to pull away no matter how much pain I had to be causing her until the flow from her torn throat ceased. Her blood will make you strong, I heard as I drifted back to sleep. I think I dreamed.
***************************
"How bad is it," I asked Carla Bannon, the detective who'd gotten the call.
"Female, late sixties, Ida Knowles from her ID we found in a purse stuffed under the driver's seat. Put in the trunk perhaps two days ago. She hasn't been reported as missing. Found four hours ago by the Kroger manager. He says the car has been sitting here for two days. Said he was going to look for ID so he could call the owner before he had the car towed. Two days in this heat? When he got a whiff of what was in the trunk he called us. Uniforms came, popped the trunk and called it in. I got the call about two hours ago. I got here a little after the call. Crime techs after me."
Carla lowered her voice and added, "Lieutenant, her throat was torn out."
"Dogs?"
"God, I hope so," Carla looked around to be sure no one was within hearing. My former partner was always careful not to seem too chummy in front of others since my promotion. "Of course we'll have to wait for the coroner's official report but, Ben, the crime scene tech swears it wasn't dogs. Her throat wasn't cut with anything sharp. Says there's no teeth marks. He says it's like someone just yanked her throat out. Tore out a large chunk of flesh. And that chunk ain't here. I told him to keep his mouth shut to everyone but me and called you as soon as I could." Detective Bannon looked around again to be sure we were out of earshot. "Ben, this could be a real mess if that tech is right. No one wants a psycho running around who rips out throats."
"The tech any good?"
"Twelve years on the job. I've worked with him before. Hell, we've both worked with him when we were partners before you took the promotion. He's very good. I wouldn't have called you out on a Sunday if he was a rookie."
"Lieutenant Haskell? Detective? Got something you need to know," a tech called out and walked towards us. I remembered working with him. He was good. Good enough and experienced enough to know he stank of death and to stand downwind.
"Two things, really. First, there's no blood in the body or in the trunk. There's barely enough blood left in the body for it to pool and form post mortem bruising. I can't find the blood. Only a few drops on the floor of the trunk. There's been no rain in the last few days to wash away blood from the asphalt. There's a few small drops on the asphalt from the driver's door to the trunk. She either wasn't killed here or someone held a bucket for her to bleed into."
"I'll get a couple of uniforms to start canvasing the grassy areas in the back of the store to make sure we didn't miss a blood pool under the tall grass," Carla said and left.
The tech reached into his overalls and pulled out a sheet of paper and an evidence bag. "Second, her address from her ID and her keys from the floor of the car. Keys are clean. No blood. I've already dusted and there's no usable prints. Her house is only a couple of blocks away. If you can't find her blood there I don't know where the hell it is."
I took the paper and signed taking possession of the evidence bag containing the keys. "Carla, you keep working here. I'll take a uniform and check out the house," I called out and got a thumbs up in acknowledgment.
The uniform followed me and we parked on the street. There was a Chevy Nova parked on the street in front of the address. The front door was open, screen door closed. It was a small sized, two story on a street where old oaks shaded the street and lawns. On the porch I could hear someone inside. Through the screen I could see a living room/den and part of a kitchen and hallway. The screen door made a small sound when I tested if it was unlocked.
"Grams? Is that you? Where have you been? You haven't even started our dinner."
"Police, ma'am."
A young woman came into view walking towards me from the kitchen. Caucasian, early twenties, 5' 4", slender build, pretty in a girl-next-door way. Shoulder length red hair and gray eyes.
"Miss, do you know a Ida Knowles?"
"Yes, she's my grandmother. Oh, God. Grams... Is she Ok?"
This was the part of the job I hated most. "May we come in, Miss..."
"Olivia Knowles."
She cried of course. But then wanted to know the how. "Please. I have to call my mom and family. They all live in Tennessee. I need to know something to tell them."
I tried to give the bare minimum of details but she had a way of asking questions that drew more information from me than I'd meant to give. For some reason my gut was sending me a warning that something was strange here. Over the years I've come to trust my gut. "You haven't tried to contact your grandmother in the last two days?"
A shake of her head. "I have an apartment out Winchester Road and a job. We don't always call each other every day. Every Sunday we try to... I mean we used to, have dinner. When I came over the front door was open and her car was gone. I just thought she'd gone to the store for a few things."
"So you haven't looked around the house?"
"No. Just used the bathroom and started chopping some vegetables in the kitchen while I waited. Why?"
"It's possible whoever killed your grandmother did it somewhere else and then drove her car to the parking lot. Would you mind if we looked around the house and backyard?"
The uniform looked over the backyard and the small garage while I looked in every room and the basement. No signs of a struggle or of blood. Everything neat and clean as if the owner had stepped out for a short trip to the supermarket. Which I was guessing she had.
Leaving my card with instruction to call if Ms. Knowles thought of anything or saw anything out of the normal, we left. I left with a feeling that something just wasn't right. Out on the sidewalk I asked Officer Westbrook what he thought.
"I don't know, Lieutenant. If someone just told me my grandmother had been killed by having her throat ripped out, I think I'd be having hysterics. But she... She just got calmer."
I nodded. That had been my observation, too. Something about that young lady set my teeth on edge. I drove back to the crime scene to let Carla know what I'd found. I also wanted Carla to look more closely into Olivia Knowles.
****************************
A witch's hearing isn't as good as an elf's, but I could hear them talking on the sidewalk. They were both wrong. I wasn't calm. Not by any stretch of the imagination was I calm. I was in a murderous rage.
Vampire! There was absolutely no doubt in my mind who, or rather what, had killed my Grams. I had phone calls to make but first I had to carry out Gram's instructions. She'd drilled her instructions into me every day when I'd first moved in with her five years ago. If something happens the first thing you do is make sure the house is safe!
Going to the basement, I tripped the concealed latch that my grandfather had installed sixty years ago. A portion of shelves popped open an inch and I pushed the door all the way open. No one but me and Grams even knew that her half-basement had once been a full basement. Gesturing at a candle I lit it with a small cantrip. I wasn't a very good witch but I could do simple cantrips.
Next I stripped off my clothes and shoes. Metals of any kind except gold, silver or platinum, even the small amount in my underwire bras, were not to enter the next room. Ever! Since I was alone I didn't bother with a robe. A steep staircase led to another concrete floor six feet lower than the one the police had just searched.
All the furniture here -staircase, chairs, tables and bookcases- were made using wooden dowels instead of metal nails. Grandad had been a master craftsman when it came to working in wood since the 18th Century. Striding to the center of the circle etched into the concrete floor, I Reached and found all the house protection spells that were powered from the circle. The circle was 20 feet in diameter and cut three inches into the concrete of the floor. Poured gold filled that circle. Gold was a perfect superconductor for Power. Silver and platinum could be used but over time Power would leech away. A gold Power Circle would hold Power indefinitely. The larger the circle, the more Power. This was one of the largest circles in North America.
By instinct I Reached out to the small Ley Line that Lexington was on top of and siphoned Power into the circle. A few seconds would leech enough Power to keep all the spells the circle maintained going for months. Reaching out again, I found the spells tuned to the circle and made then mine. As soon as they came under my control, a softly glowing, golden hemisphere appeared around me. Twenty feet in diameter, it filled the room, almost touching the ceiling and walls. Any metal other than gold inside this sphere might cause a feedback of the magical energy in the circle of gold. Think of the CERN supercollider going nuclear. Yea, that's the reason no metals were allowed in here. Grams had told me of the trouble Grandad had digging up the entire basement trying to find one lousy horseshoe nail when he'd been making this witch's workroom.
Grams had made me practice this many times and it was easy to Key the spells to me. If I ever wanted to pass this Power Circle on, I'd have to teach the Key to another. The protection spells wouldn't turn away door-to-door salesmen but Supernaturals would be stopped and if a Supe did try to enter this house I'd know it no matter where I was. The last thing I did before leaving the workshop was to take two books from Grams' library.
The first book was very small and contained a list of the members of Gram's coven. They needed to be called and warned that a vampire was in the area. The second book contained everything Grams had learned about vampires. For the last century Grams had collected stories and knowledge on every topic in every witch's tome she could get her hands on. Lined up on the shelves in front of me was probably the best collection of magical knowledge in North America. I knew that in the first book was a learned discussion on whether Aardvark gall bladders were necessary for potions which caused nightmares. I'm not sure, but knowing I'd just swallowed ground up Aardvark gallbladders? That would sure as hell give me nightmares.
I still had a phone call I couldn't put off any longer. It was as hard to tell my mom as I'd thought. She promised to drive up the next day to help with the funeral arrangements.
I remembered to get the bottle of bourbon I'd hidden in the attic four years ago and my smokes before sitting down. Grams had always made me go out on the porch to smoke. I knew what was in Gram's will. This house was mine now and with my first cigarette I began to make it smell like mine. With darkness falling I was finally able to open the book to begin my education. There was a vamp in town that needed killing.
Chapter One
It was a dark and stormy night...
Sorry, I know it's pretty cheesy but I've always wanted to begin a story like that. Over the years I've written many stories. Some for fun, others for money or fame. Sometimes for all three. But never have I written my story. So as cheesy as it may be, my opening is perfectly correct. It was a dark and stormy night that my story begins...
Early 21st Century... Lexington, Kentucky
My supper was finished. I was nursing my cola, wondering if I should just make a run for my house. Rain poured down and lightning flashed outside the large panes of glass which formed the entire wall between the wet outside and the cozy inside of the small, family friendly restaurant. A late evening thunderstorm wasn't unexpected in August. The heat and humidity would build throughout the day. Thunder clouds would build higher and higher in the sky and then all hell would let loose as the temperature dropped with the setting sun.
No one was waiting for my table so I didn't feel guilty keeping the table to myself. It wasn't like I was denying my waitress another customer and tip. Many tables were occupied but some were still open for new customers. But a new customer hadn't walked in since the rain had started. Between the heavy cloud cover and the lateness of the hour, it was pitch black outside. Strobes of lightning would light the street as bright as day and then the darkness would reclaim the streets. The last of my cola slurped up my straw and I was just reaching for my wallet when she appeared.
My first sight of Tiffany was as a form under the streetlight on the corner as she dashed across the street for the door of the restaurant. Splashing in the puddles she was as wet as any woman could be and looked as mad as any cat tossed into a pool. My cousin had done that once with the family cat. Tiffany looked just as mad as that cat had looked after dragging her wet fur out of that pool, only without the hissing and barred teeth.
She shook herself like a cat, too, as she stood in the entrance. That took my mind off the family cat since her t-shirt was plastered to a very nice, very wet chest sans bra. Sizing up the place, she walked to table next to mine and plopped herself in a chair. Grabbing a wad of napkins, she began wiping her pretty face. The contrast between her pale skin and bright blue eyes to her jet black, shoulder length hair was striking.
"Look all you want, you perv."
I hastily raised my gaze to her face. "Ahh, sorry..." I began but she cut me off with a hand wave.
She shrugged. "I don't care. My boobs have been seen before. By a lot more people at once than are in here. I hit Mardi Gras every year I can. I get lots of beads," She said with a smile. Picking at the wet material of her shirt she pulled it away from her skin and let it drop. It went back to outlining every curve she had including two, very hard nipples. She shrugged again in resignation, "At least I'm wearing a shirt."
Grabbing another handful of napkins she wiped her arms and hands dry. Moving quickly, she invited herself to my table and sat across from me. "Sorry to drop in unannounced but you're the only one sitting alone. I usually have better manners but that damned rain! I'm Tiffany," she said thrusting a now dry hand across the table.
"I'm Daniel," I completed the intro and shook her hand. "Ahh, would you like something to eat," I asked as my waitress approached.
"I could do with a bite. But not here. I was just headed for the club down the street when this," Tiffany waved a disgusted hand at the rain, "appeared out'a nowhere."
Tiffany gave me an appraising look, "I've got a pretty good idea of what I want to eat later."
"I didn't know they served food at the club."
Tiffany laughed at nothing I could see. Since Darlene was at the table anyway, I paid for my food and added a good tip. I ate here often and knew all the wait staff.
Tiffany sighed and picked at her wet shirt again. "Screw it. No clubbing for me tonight. The apartment I stayed at today doesn't have a clothes dryer."
"My house is just down the street and I have a clothes dryer. I'm really not a perv," I hastily added. "I'm just offering dry clothes. I've got a robe you can wear while your clothes dry. I just don't want to go home and think about you sitting here cold and wet and maybe getting sick or something without at least offering."
"Why, aren't you the Southern gentleman. I'd like that if you won't mind a house guest for a few hours. Wet clothes just suck."
My house was only a block and a half away but it was raining so hard my clothes were as soaked as Tiffany's by the time we ran up my driveway to the side door leading to the garage and laundry room. There were towels in the dryer that I hadn't folded yet. We used them to towel off our faces and arms. I told Tiffany to wait and I'd get her a robe.
"Fuck that," she said taking hold of the hem of her shirt and stripping it over her head. Tossing it into the dryer, "Don't look so shocked. I've already given you a wet t-shirt show." She toed off her sneakers and while I stood there her jeans, socks and finally her panties went into the dryer. "Your turn."
I was in shock. It had been a while since I'd seen a naked woman. I'm not gay, I just haven't had much time to date while in grad school. Women taking their clothes off in front of me was unusual. A woman looking like Tiffany taking her clothes off in front of me was incredible. In bare feet she was maybe 5'9". Breasts just on the large size for her slender frame. Perfect hourglass figure. Her skin was pale without bikini lines.
"Hey! Your turn. Get those wet clothes off. I don't want you to get sick either."
I hesitated. I wasn't in nearly as good a shape as Tiffany. I've been 40 to 50 pounds past my recommended weight for my height of 5'10" since high school. I almost always wear a t-shirt at the pool and not because I sunburn.
Tiffany finally gave up on my moving and began unbuttoning my shirt. I came out of my daze enough to begin helping and soon she was stripping my briefs off. I had the expected anatomical response any heterosexual male would have in the presence of a beautiful, naked woman. It was impossible to hide since it was at eye level to Tiffany as she knelt to strip my briefs down far enough for me to step out of.
Tossing my clothes into the dryer she turned the dial and started the dry cycle. Taking the initiative again, Tiffany wrapped her arms around me and went up on her toes for a kiss. She began pushing me towards the door that led into the house.
"Wait. Wait, wait... The clothes need a fabric softener sheet," I managed to break lip contact long enough to gasp out.
"You're k**ding, right," Tiffany drew back and asked in disbelief. "A naked woman is grinding her crotch against your cock, offering a night of wild sex and you're thinking of laundry?"
"I guess not," I said and let myself be kissed and pushed to sit on the den couch which was as far as we made it.
The rest of the night was a haze. I remember Tiffany straddling my lap and lowering herself around my dick while nuzzling and sucking on my neck which was extremely pleasurable. I came almost as soon as she lowered herself onto me while still trying to give me a hickey.
Tiffany didn't seem disappointed and I was still hard afterwards. The sex after that was what began to blur. She pulled away from my neck and began moving her hips slowly over my lap. In this position her breasts were moving close to my face and I pulled her close enough to capture a nipple. I was sucking hard on her breast when she gasped and pulled back to sit up straight. Her hand raised the breast I'd been sucking on so she could get a good look at the small cut, a shallow sc**** really, on her skin.
"Damn it, damn it, dammit," she yelled climbing off me. Pacing the room, she stopped to look at her breast again. Raising clenched fists she yelled, "FUUUUCCCCKKKKKK!!!"
My head swam when I tried to stand up to try and calm her down. I couldn’t seem to make my legs and arms work together and sat back down with a whuumph onto the couch. It was just a tiny, barely red scratch. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I chipped a tooth last week on a walnut shell and I guess it cut you. It's not that much real..."
Tiffany interrupted me to yell, "You don't understand, you idiot! I've already fed from you. Once your blood mixes with mine, if you take even a little back you're gonna Turn! Fuck this shit," she muttered and began to pace again. Stopping in mid-stride, she seemed to have made up her mind about something.
"This is your house, right? No one else lives here," she asked. "No relatives dropping by?"
"Yea, I live here alone. My relatives live in Eastern Kentucky. They never drop by without calling. What do you mean by Turn? Look, I'm sorry my tooth cut you but..."
"Just shut up. Just shut the fuck up. Don't make this harder for me."
"Make what harder?" Man, I was really woozy.
"I have to kill you, you big, stupid human!"
With a jump that covered an impossible distance, she landed on me and drove me back into the couch cushions. This time when her mouth went to my neck there was nothing sexual about it. It hurt like hell when she bite down and then all the pain vanished in a wash of euphoria. I was twice her body weight yet I couldn't break the hold of her arms and legs around me to push her away.
I felt my skin tear and, God help me, I came, splashing cum on her stomach and mine as the pleasure I was feeling doubled and then doubled again. Still she bit deeper. I heard a sucking sound under my ear and then I heard and felt nothing at all.
Chapter II
My next memories are all a jumble. I would swim up from a deep sleep when Tiffany came near. She'd whimper as she'd open her own wrist with her teeth. The smell of blood would rouse me more and I'd drink as much as I could of her thick, rich blood for as long as she offered her wrist.
‘I'll have more for you soon,’ she'd whisper as I'd fall back into my dreamless sleep.
I had no idea how many times this scene was repeated until one time her wrist wasn't enough. I wanted more and her amazing strength was no match for mine as I pulled her down and bit hard on her neck. Her cry wasn't one of pain, however. The harder I bit the more her cries sounded like the cries of a woman having an orgasm.
I drained Tiffany of every drop of blood I could coax from the tear in her throat before pushing her away. She dropped, drained of blood and strength to the floor beside the bed. Hearing her moans of orgasm, I went back to my dreamless sleep.
There was one feeding I remember more than any other. I have no memory of when it occurred in my schedule of feedings but Tiffany smelled differently that time. More alive. Every mouthful from her wrist was intoxicating. When the flow from her wrist began to slow it was her who offered me her neck. When I bit this time her cries were again of pleasure. Orgasmic cries as the smell of her sex filled the room. She didn't try to pull away no matter how much pain I had to be causing her until the flow from her torn throat ceased. Her blood will make you strong, I heard as I drifted back to sleep. I think I dreamed.
***************************
"How bad is it," I asked Carla Bannon, the detective who'd gotten the call.
"Female, late sixties, Ida Knowles from her ID we found in a purse stuffed under the driver's seat. Put in the trunk perhaps two days ago. She hasn't been reported as missing. Found four hours ago by the Kroger manager. He says the car has been sitting here for two days. Said he was going to look for ID so he could call the owner before he had the car towed. Two days in this heat? When he got a whiff of what was in the trunk he called us. Uniforms came, popped the trunk and called it in. I got the call about two hours ago. I got here a little after the call. Crime techs after me."
Carla lowered her voice and added, "Lieutenant, her throat was torn out."
"Dogs?"
"God, I hope so," Carla looked around to be sure no one was within hearing. My former partner was always careful not to seem too chummy in front of others since my promotion. "Of course we'll have to wait for the coroner's official report but, Ben, the crime scene tech swears it wasn't dogs. Her throat wasn't cut with anything sharp. Says there's no teeth marks. He says it's like someone just yanked her throat out. Tore out a large chunk of flesh. And that chunk ain't here. I told him to keep his mouth shut to everyone but me and called you as soon as I could." Detective Bannon looked around again to be sure we were out of earshot. "Ben, this could be a real mess if that tech is right. No one wants a psycho running around who rips out throats."
"The tech any good?"
"Twelve years on the job. I've worked with him before. Hell, we've both worked with him when we were partners before you took the promotion. He's very good. I wouldn't have called you out on a Sunday if he was a rookie."
"Lieutenant Haskell? Detective? Got something you need to know," a tech called out and walked towards us. I remembered working with him. He was good. Good enough and experienced enough to know he stank of death and to stand downwind.
"Two things, really. First, there's no blood in the body or in the trunk. There's barely enough blood left in the body for it to pool and form post mortem bruising. I can't find the blood. Only a few drops on the floor of the trunk. There's been no rain in the last few days to wash away blood from the asphalt. There's a few small drops on the asphalt from the driver's door to the trunk. She either wasn't killed here or someone held a bucket for her to bleed into."
"I'll get a couple of uniforms to start canvasing the grassy areas in the back of the store to make sure we didn't miss a blood pool under the tall grass," Carla said and left.
The tech reached into his overalls and pulled out a sheet of paper and an evidence bag. "Second, her address from her ID and her keys from the floor of the car. Keys are clean. No blood. I've already dusted and there's no usable prints. Her house is only a couple of blocks away. If you can't find her blood there I don't know where the hell it is."
I took the paper and signed taking possession of the evidence bag containing the keys. "Carla, you keep working here. I'll take a uniform and check out the house," I called out and got a thumbs up in acknowledgment.
The uniform followed me and we parked on the street. There was a Chevy Nova parked on the street in front of the address. The front door was open, screen door closed. It was a small sized, two story on a street where old oaks shaded the street and lawns. On the porch I could hear someone inside. Through the screen I could see a living room/den and part of a kitchen and hallway. The screen door made a small sound when I tested if it was unlocked.
"Grams? Is that you? Where have you been? You haven't even started our dinner."
"Police, ma'am."
A young woman came into view walking towards me from the kitchen. Caucasian, early twenties, 5' 4", slender build, pretty in a girl-next-door way. Shoulder length red hair and gray eyes.
"Miss, do you know a Ida Knowles?"
"Yes, she's my grandmother. Oh, God. Grams... Is she Ok?"
This was the part of the job I hated most. "May we come in, Miss..."
"Olivia Knowles."
She cried of course. But then wanted to know the how. "Please. I have to call my mom and family. They all live in Tennessee. I need to know something to tell them."
I tried to give the bare minimum of details but she had a way of asking questions that drew more information from me than I'd meant to give. For some reason my gut was sending me a warning that something was strange here. Over the years I've come to trust my gut. "You haven't tried to contact your grandmother in the last two days?"
A shake of her head. "I have an apartment out Winchester Road and a job. We don't always call each other every day. Every Sunday we try to... I mean we used to, have dinner. When I came over the front door was open and her car was gone. I just thought she'd gone to the store for a few things."
"So you haven't looked around the house?"
"No. Just used the bathroom and started chopping some vegetables in the kitchen while I waited. Why?"
"It's possible whoever killed your grandmother did it somewhere else and then drove her car to the parking lot. Would you mind if we looked around the house and backyard?"
The uniform looked over the backyard and the small garage while I looked in every room and the basement. No signs of a struggle or of blood. Everything neat and clean as if the owner had stepped out for a short trip to the supermarket. Which I was guessing she had.
Leaving my card with instruction to call if Ms. Knowles thought of anything or saw anything out of the normal, we left. I left with a feeling that something just wasn't right. Out on the sidewalk I asked Officer Westbrook what he thought.
"I don't know, Lieutenant. If someone just told me my grandmother had been killed by having her throat ripped out, I think I'd be having hysterics. But she... She just got calmer."
I nodded. That had been my observation, too. Something about that young lady set my teeth on edge. I drove back to the crime scene to let Carla know what I'd found. I also wanted Carla to look more closely into Olivia Knowles.
****************************
A witch's hearing isn't as good as an elf's, but I could hear them talking on the sidewalk. They were both wrong. I wasn't calm. Not by any stretch of the imagination was I calm. I was in a murderous rage.
Vampire! There was absolutely no doubt in my mind who, or rather what, had killed my Grams. I had phone calls to make but first I had to carry out Gram's instructions. She'd drilled her instructions into me every day when I'd first moved in with her five years ago. If something happens the first thing you do is make sure the house is safe!
Going to the basement, I tripped the concealed latch that my grandfather had installed sixty years ago. A portion of shelves popped open an inch and I pushed the door all the way open. No one but me and Grams even knew that her half-basement had once been a full basement. Gesturing at a candle I lit it with a small cantrip. I wasn't a very good witch but I could do simple cantrips.
Next I stripped off my clothes and shoes. Metals of any kind except gold, silver or platinum, even the small amount in my underwire bras, were not to enter the next room. Ever! Since I was alone I didn't bother with a robe. A steep staircase led to another concrete floor six feet lower than the one the police had just searched.
All the furniture here -staircase, chairs, tables and bookcases- were made using wooden dowels instead of metal nails. Grandad had been a master craftsman when it came to working in wood since the 18th Century. Striding to the center of the circle etched into the concrete floor, I Reached and found all the house protection spells that were powered from the circle. The circle was 20 feet in diameter and cut three inches into the concrete of the floor. Poured gold filled that circle. Gold was a perfect superconductor for Power. Silver and platinum could be used but over time Power would leech away. A gold Power Circle would hold Power indefinitely. The larger the circle, the more Power. This was one of the largest circles in North America.
By instinct I Reached out to the small Ley Line that Lexington was on top of and siphoned Power into the circle. A few seconds would leech enough Power to keep all the spells the circle maintained going for months. Reaching out again, I found the spells tuned to the circle and made then mine. As soon as they came under my control, a softly glowing, golden hemisphere appeared around me. Twenty feet in diameter, it filled the room, almost touching the ceiling and walls. Any metal other than gold inside this sphere might cause a feedback of the magical energy in the circle of gold. Think of the CERN supercollider going nuclear. Yea, that's the reason no metals were allowed in here. Grams had told me of the trouble Grandad had digging up the entire basement trying to find one lousy horseshoe nail when he'd been making this witch's workroom.
Grams had made me practice this many times and it was easy to Key the spells to me. If I ever wanted to pass this Power Circle on, I'd have to teach the Key to another. The protection spells wouldn't turn away door-to-door salesmen but Supernaturals would be stopped and if a Supe did try to enter this house I'd know it no matter where I was. The last thing I did before leaving the workshop was to take two books from Grams' library.
The first book was very small and contained a list of the members of Gram's coven. They needed to be called and warned that a vampire was in the area. The second book contained everything Grams had learned about vampires. For the last century Grams had collected stories and knowledge on every topic in every witch's tome she could get her hands on. Lined up on the shelves in front of me was probably the best collection of magical knowledge in North America. I knew that in the first book was a learned discussion on whether Aardvark gall bladders were necessary for potions which caused nightmares. I'm not sure, but knowing I'd just swallowed ground up Aardvark gallbladders? That would sure as hell give me nightmares.
I still had a phone call I couldn't put off any longer. It was as hard to tell my mom as I'd thought. She promised to drive up the next day to help with the funeral arrangements.
I remembered to get the bottle of bourbon I'd hidden in the attic four years ago and my smokes before sitting down. Grams had always made me go out on the porch to smoke. I knew what was in Gram's will. This house was mine now and with my first cigarette I began to make it smell like mine. With darkness falling I was finally able to open the book to begin my education. There was a vamp in town that needed killing.
Bess
- 25.09.2021
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Tears Of A Vamp Chapters Three and Four
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Tears Of A Vamp Chapter Two
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