[Robert McNay]

The bathroom door opened and a cloud of steam flooded into the bedroom and was swiftly sucked into the air return registers. He followed the cloud out and strode towards the bed, wearing nothing but a towel.

Laid out on the bed was his “armor”, as he laughingly referred to it, a black tuxedo, white shirt and patent leather shoes. There was no cummerbund but a tie laid waiting to be fumbled into a familiar bow shape. He loosed the towel and let it drop to the floor as he slid open the top drawer of the Bauhaus inspired dresser. He pulled a pair of black lycra and nylon compression shorts from a small pile and stepped into them. Once seated in place, they looked like they had been painted on him, conforming to every contour.

Next was the crisp, clean, brand new, white broadcloth shirt. He had just picked it up today, having to get it custom made to fit his newly enhanced upper body. Over the last 6 months his physique had grown incredibly, along with his strength.
Before slipping the first sleeve on, he flexed his arm and checked its look once more. He had been stuck at 23 inches for almost a year, even though his strength had continued to increase. Suddenly, in a short 36 weeks, he added a peaked and prominent 2 inches to both arms and increased his strength by 40%.

This growth spurt had coincided with meeting her. His movements switched to autopilot as his thoughts became consumed with her. The silky white skin, the power of her body, the unbelievable sensuality of her whole being, he was living a fantasy that no writer could even begin to imagine.

Their lovemaking had matured and become comfortable. They independently both realized what a good thing they had and dialed back its frenzied nature. They still had nights like the first, but more often it was a prolonged, sensuous marathon that reveled more in the sensory experience, than physical clash. They each knew the other’s body like their own, and could play each other like a piano.

“Damn” he cursed as he fumbled a shirt stud.

The relationship had also become symbiotic. His blood and semen had given her a new lease on life, requiring her less and less to go out hunting. Likewise, her secretions had allowed him to achieve physical goals he thought impossible.

“Son of a…..” He fumbled the same stud.

She had grown to trust him, almost completely. She had started staying the whole night and into the morning. She had busted another vampire myth; they can go out in daylight. She couldn’t do her smoke bit and usually wore sunglasses on even overcast days, but they had gone to breakfast once or twice.

“There we go” The stud finally cooperated.

Tonight was a special night, her trust had progressed enough that she had invited him out for dinner. They were going to a ritzy steak house in the River North area, and she warned him to dress appropriately. This meant a crazy week of trying to find some place to let out his tux and get a new shirt made. The shirt was finished only 15 minutes before the tailor’s shop closed. Then it was a rush to get his car washed, get home, showered and ready. He glanced at his watch and saw it was 5 minutes to 7. He started to fumble the bow tie into place. Again, no cooperation was forthcoming.

“Need help lover?”

He turned in mid-tie to see her standing in the balcony doorway. His eyes went wide and he swallowed hard. He was not only speechless, but incapable of forming a thought at the sight of her. Her black hair was down and flowing about her shoulders, making the long silver earrings she wore stand out and draw attention to her long, powerful, regal neck. Her lips were covered in a whisp of pale rose colored lipstick that matched her fingernail polish. The only other makeup in evidence was a subtle, smoky effect around her eyes. It looked like there were small silver flecks in it. But the breath taking part was her dress.

She wore a shiny, full length, deep blue dress that looked like she had been sewn into it. It complimented and accentuated her pale, china-like skin color. It was form fitting to the extreme, leaving little to the imagination as to the physique beneath. The dress had an off the shoulder design that covered her left shoulder and arm in full sleeve, but exposed the right shoulder and arm as the top plunged below her right arm. Her abdominal muscles created an undulating effect in the sequined finish as she took a step further into the room. The dress didn’t so much “move”, as it flowed, like it was made of mercury. As she took the first step, he could see that there was a long split up the front of her left leg that briefly exposed the powerful thigh and calf. He was right, her calves did look great in high heels, which were a satin grey.

She then did a slow spin to let him see the complete dress. The neckline that had plunged under her right arm continued it’s decent in back, to a point just below her shoulder blade, and then it rose to sweep across to the top of her left shoulder, completing the circle. He admired the exposed muscles of her right arm, chest, shoulder and back. There was no denying the strength that resided there, because, as she moved, ripples and striations could be seen coursing through them. They were not bodybuilder big, but respectable and prominent. The whole neckline served to maximize the width of her shoulders and upper body over her impossibly slim waist. He then noticed that even the 2 deep recesses on either side of her derriere were in clear evidence. After giving it a minute or so to sink in, she walked over to him.

“I think it would be a good idea to take a breath.” She said. So he did.

She took the ends of the unfinished tie and, in a flurry of motion, completed it, perfectly. She smoothed it then brushed some lint from his shirt that had been invisible to him. She then checked the fit of it by running her hands over his upper body and arms. She paused to squeeze one of his biceps, and kneed it a little with her fingers.

“You’ve got a very good tailor.”

He lifted his arm and flexed the bicep into its full 25 inch glory, straining the sleeve. She ran her hand over it, feeling its hardness and shape, and said, “I can do that, too.”

Lifting her bare right arm, she flexed but it expanded to a size twice as big as its relaxed state would have suggested. A large, softball sized and shaped orb filled her upper arm with a proportional tricep swollen below. After holding the flex for a moment, she relaxed and let her arm fall to her side, its normal size restored.

“How do you do that?”

“The same way I do this.” And she held up an index finger, its long manicured nail glistening. As he watched, it morphed into a long, deadly looking talon-like claw. She carefully tapped his nose with it, and it returned to its normal shape. She turned to pick up his jacket and held it for him as he slipped his arms into the sleeves. Once in, she pulled and fluffed the shoulders some, then swatted some more invisible lint from its back. He turned to face her.

“Thanks Mom.”

She raised an eyebrow and said, “I don’t your Mom would do this.” She pulled him close, hard against her, and gave him a deep, lingering kiss. After she pushed away a little, he took her wrists and looked her in the eyes.

“No, I guess she wouldn’t.” He smiled at her, and returned the kiss.

“Careful, we keep this up, we’ll miss our reservations.”

“I wouldn’t complain.” He said.

“I would, I called in a pretty big favor to get this spot. Now grab your pocket junk and let’s get going.”

Soon, they were on the street and he led her to a low warehouse about a block away with an auto repair shop in the front. He unlocked a side door to a long hallway that ran to a rear area, behind the shop. It was a garage with several dozen cars stored in 2 tiers, the second tier being on hydraulic racks above the first. He strode towards a black ’09 Mustang Shelby with twin silver stripes. She crossed her arms and looked at the car.

“Isn’t that a little stereotyped, a bodybuilder in a muscle car?”

“Maybe, but my grandfather owned an original when I was a kid. I loved it and dreamed of having my own. If you don’t like it, we can take something else. All the cars in this section belong to me, would you prefer one of the others?”
She looked at an array of 10 cars that ranged from a Chrysler 300 SRT 8 to a vintage Cord 812 with Beuhrig body. For once, it was her turn to be surprised.

“I thought you said you worked for a hospital.”

“I do, I’m the chief administrator of the charitable trust for the hospital my grandfather began. I also inherited a quarter of his estate when he passed away.”

“I assume there were a lot of zeros in that inheritance?”

“Of course. You didn’t think I could afford a lakefront condo on the top floors of a high rise by being a nurse, did you?”

A smirk played her lips as she looked at him sideways, then scanned the cars. “Let’s take that one.” She said, pointing at a silver Aston Martin DB5.

“James Bond fan, are we?”

“No, Sean Connery.”

He retrieved the keys from a lock box and soon they found themselves heading south on Lake Shore Drive, to the heart of the city. As they joined traffic, for some reason he noticed a dark grey Hummer H2, with a complete set of “big rig” running lights festooning it and dark tinted windows, was behind them about 6 car lengths. He felt a twinge that he couldn’t explain, downshifted and accelerated through traffic. He looked over at her. She was admiring the lights of the skyline and the lake breeze coming in her window.  His eyes drifted down the rest of her, taking in the goddess like beauty. Her legs were stretched out in the foot well and the slit in her dress had fallen open, exposing her left leg. He moved his hand from the shifter to her thigh and squeezed the solid, powerful muscles of it. She purred a little then placed her hand on top and squeezed his. A breathless “Later” drifted towards him as she returned it to the gearshift.

They rounded the Oak Street curve, then traveled a short distance and exited at Illinois Ave. At the bottom of the ramp, he slid through on the edge of the yellow and made a right. He noticed the Hummer was caught at the red, behind 2 minivans. He made another couple of fast turns and soon the exit ramp was lost to sight. She directed him to a small street near the north branch of the river, then pointed out a small storefront with dark wood trim and a few lights. A sign declared “Rosanno’s”. Two streets behind it, he found a parking garage and drove up to the last lighted level, parking as far from the elevators as he could, but still in sight of the security cameras. They came out on the street, only to find the one to the east torn up and blocked by construction, so they headed to the west. Ten minutes later, they approached the maitre de in a small anteroom. He was a stuffy, humorless but polite man.

“Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes, the name is Pennington-Chase, Lillyia. It should be for 2 and a private booth.”

His finger ran the list, twice, and then came back to the very top, “Yes, here it is. Guests of the head chef it says.”

“Yes, he’s an old friend.”

Suddenly there was a respect in his manner as he brushed aside his assistant and showed them their table, personally. As they pushed through the curtain, he looked back and did a double take. For a moment he thought he caught a glimpse of the distorted image of a dark Hummer in the cut glass facets of the door. He shook his head and chalked it up to his imagination.

Beyond the curtains was a very large room, every table filled with the upper crust of the city. He recognized half a dozen local celebrities and even one international. Their route took them through the heart of the room. About halfway across, he noticed almost every head in the room had turned in their direction and was following Lillyia. Most of the women had either had a disdainful glare or look of horror. A few shared the same appreciative, unabashed look of lust that every man in sight exhibited. He felt something brush his hand and he turned to see a blonde supermodel type, lick her lips and expose a mile long leg to him. He smiled at her and followed after Lillyia.

At the table, a well secluded one with tasteful curtains that left only a narrow opening, the maitre de held the chair for Lillyia while he took his seat opposite. They were then introduced to the table captain and the sommelier. The sommelier made suggestions but Lillyia knew what she wanted, something not on the list but was in the cellar. Her friend, the chef, had obtained it at her special request.  After the wine expert left, she peered through the curtains, back along their path.

“She’s not exactly your type, is she?”

“Who?”

“The blonde. Her legs look long enough to wrap around you several times but there’s no substance to her. She looks like she would fold in a stiff breeze.”

“True, but, as we both know, looks can deceive.” And he reached across to touch her hand.

“Yes, they can be.” She smiled and for the first time tonight, her fangs were visible.

After a few minutes, the sommelier returned with the requested wine and let Lillyia taste it. She approved and a glass was poured for each of them. Soon after his departure, the first course of their meal appeared. Lillyia had apparently preordered their selections.

As the meal progressed, course after course, they enjoyed the delicacies before them and engaged in polite small talk. The main course was Kobe beef; his was medium-rare, while her’s was very rare. After the main course, he saw the chef exit the kitchen and start in their general direction. He was stopped and interrupted many times and it took him almost 20 minutes to reach their nook.

He was a bear of a man, easily 6’3” or 6’4” and broad through the chest and upper body. A flamboyant handlebar mustache graced his upper lip, neatly waxed and perfect in shape. He stood as the chef pushed through the curtains and a huge smile sprung to his lips.

“Lillyia, it has been far too long. When I received your email, I could have been bowled over with a feather.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek then hand. He then noticed her arm and shoulder and their shape. A low whistle escaped his lips. “And you appear to be in amazing shape, too. You couldn’t look any finer.”

“Chef William, this is my companion, Craig.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” He said as he took Craig’s hand in one of his, and gripped his upper arm in the other. His grip on his hand was incredible, then he felt the one on his upper arm tighten and test the hardness of its muscles.

“I think I can see why Lillyia is in such outstanding shape. Lillyia, we must get together so you can tell me of all your exploits since we last met. Please, do call me.” He shook Craig’s hand once more and departed.

As Craig took his seat, a simply orange sorbet was served. After it was finished, they both leaned back and drew quiet. He was the first the speak.

“How long have you known the Chef?”

“A very long time.”

“How long is that?”

“Since the 1920’s, when he owned a speakeasy on the north side.”

Craig pointed towards the kitchen, then towards her.”

“Yes, he’s a vampire, too.”

“Okay, blunt question. Just how old are you?”

“Don’t you know it’s not polite to ask a lady’s age?” she answered with a sly smile, and then continued. “Physically, I’m 37. Linear time, I’m 142. I was born in New Haven Connecticut in 1866, to a Yale University professor father and a mother who was the head of nursing at the local hospital. They sent me to all the finest girl’s schools then on to college, Vassar, class of 1889. I earned my bachelor’s in Historical studies. I then got a Master’s at Yale, again, History.”

“When did the whole vampire thing happen?”

“In 1903. I was a lecturer on Middle Eastern history and traveler, a real adventuress type, like Lola Montez or Isabella Bird. In the spring of that year, I was on a trip through the Ottoman Empire when my caravan was attacked be troops of the local sultanate. Everyone was killed but me, I was taken back to the palace of the local sultan and held incommunicado. It turns out that he was a vampire and I was to become his wife. He took me but I killed him before the wedding could take place. I escaped but I couldn’t go home, I was dead, reported and literally. Since then, I’ve traveled the world, settling here about 10 years ago.”

“Why here?”

“It’s a big city but not a hotbed of vampirism. There are some, but we stay out of sight and blend with the populace. If you are a party hard vampire, New York, Los Angeles and Miami are the places to be. Many of us here are very academic in our pastimes, and with so many good universities and colleges, we can indulge that. I have continued my history courses at 2 universities here.”

“The 3 “B”s, brains, beauty and brawn. What more could a guy ask for?”

Lillyia reached across and squeezed his hand, then got up from her chair. As she rounded the table, she loosed the tie-back on one curtain, saw the blonde was still looking in their direction and waved as she loosed the other curtain. She then turned and pushed Craig back from the table and slid seductively onto his lap. As she brought her left leg up, the skirt fell away once more, exposing her leg. He ran his hand along the hard curve of her outer quad and up to her hip. Her arms encircled his neck and pulled his lips to hers. She softly nicked his lower lip with one of her eye teeth and sucked the blood from the cut, then continued the kiss. It lasted until they heard the clearing of a throat on the other side of the curtain. She wiped a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth as she got up.

“Better than an after dinner brandy.”

She pulled the curtain back to admit the table captain, who asked if they wanted anything more. Lillya responded that they were finished and he could bring the check. He informed them that Chef William had already taken care of it. She said thank you and slipped him a $100 bill as a tip. After he left, they gathered their things and started for the door. Lillyia led as they approached the blonde, whose eyes were on Craig. She stood as they approached, as if to head for the ladies room, and assumed a pose that exposed her shapely, long leg. Lillyia, who was about an inch taller, stepped into her line of sight. The model looked her up and down and saw Lillyia’s leg, equally exposed and densely muscled. Then she saw the tensed muscles of Lillyia’s arm and shoulder.

“After you.” She said and the model headed towards a bathroom that she didn’t need to use.

Outside, they turned to head back the way they had come from the garage, but found the street blocked. There were several police cars, their blue lights flashing, and fire department paramedic unit. Just then, a mobile crime scene lab rolled up. They walked to the edge of the crime scene tape. Several officers were talking about a murder of a homeless couple, apparently the crime scene was large and blocked the whole cross street. Craig turned around to find the other street was still closed by construction and impassible. He then saw a narrow alley, 2 doors down from the restaurant. He pointed and Lillyia nodded in agreement. They headed down it.

About halfway down, they found the alley jogged to the left towards a courtyard for trucks to turn around in. It was far enough that the streets at both ends were out of sight. As they followed the alley’s jog back to the right, she heard it first, an engine idling. When it’s revs increased he heard it, too. Just then, the sound rounded the corner in front of them.

It was the Hummer.

They turned to run back the way they came and saw shadows of several figures coming from the other directions. The shadows appeared to be carrying clubs and stakes. They backed into the middle of the courtyard and waited.

Con't……

[KeithXZ]

Great story Catn Matt.  Good start to the plot, and very well written.

I'm looking forward to reading more!

[Lupus14]

Suspense, erotic, mystery. Simply perfect. Written so smooth and professional, avoiding vulgarity.  I hope this story goes on forever.

[Fonk]

That's a great piece of work, just as before. Thanks for writing!

[Robert McNay]

Part 2: Survival

The Hummer pulled up first and 6 people carrying strange crossbows piled out of the passenger doors and back. They took up positions behind the 10 or 15 thugs on foot, who had filed across the opening of the court. They all assumed a position and stopped, as if they were waiting for something. It was then the driver’s door opened. A huge figure pried itself through the openning and waded through the massed troops. Craig could make out no details because they were silhouetted in the trucks lights.

“Separate them!” shouted the large figure, “Corner her over there, I’ll take care of him first.”

The troops began to advance on Lillyia, stabbing at her with pointed poles and long metal staffs. One of the staffs made contact with her arm and Craig could hear a zap of electricity, and she snarled at them. Craig tried to interpose himself but another metal rod caught him in the shoulder and he briefly saw stars. By the time his vision cleared, they had Lillyia boxed in the left corner of the yard. A shadow fell across him, it was the driver. He looked up into the eyes of a woman.

She was no ordinary woman. She was Craig’s height, about 6 foot, but was huge. Her shoulders were massive boulders with deep recesses in the tops, her biceps looked like bowling balls and unreal triceps bulged from the back of her arms. The trapezius muscles were so huge that they stood almost 2 inches above the shoulders and met her neck just behind the ears, and her neck was as wide as her jawline. Her upper chest was 2 massive slabs of pectorals with only the vestigial remains of breasts perched low on them and covered by a midriff baring tank top. Below the bright orange top were huge abs, so huge, they made her look like she had a beer belly. A brick beer belly. Finally, her legs, tree-trunk would have been an understatement and Craig guessed them to be 30 or 32 inches around. The lycra shorts barely spanned the tops of them. She stood about 10 feet away and sized him up. A low, guttural chuckle rumbled from her torso as her stomach muscles tightened and bounced.

“Now why does a fine, muscular man like you waste his time on a piece of blood sucking ass like her? Especially when you could have a real woman, like me.” And she flexed one of her ungodly biceps.

Craig looked around him and started to think quickly. He figured he couldn’t win a slugfest with her, so he had to use his head along with his muscle. Just then, she started to advance on him. He backed up until he found the brick wall behind him. As she got closer, the idea came to him.

“Because she pisses better stuff than that toxic mess you’ve got in your veins.”

Her brows furrows and she threw a punch at his head. He ducked at the last moment and her fist hit the wall. When he looked up, it had buried itself almost an inch deep in the masonry. He had no time to marvel at it as she swiftly spun and kicked at him with one of her massive legs. Again he ducked, just barely, and the kick punched a hole through the wall. She tried to pull it out but it was snagged by the loose bricks. Craig threw himself at her other leg and knocked it out from under her. She landed with a thud that vibrated the alley, as he jumped to his feet, now between her and the Hummer.

His attention was diverted at the sound of a couple more cracks of the enhanced cattle prods and he looked over at Lillyia. She was still cornered but holding her own and staying low so the crossbowmen, who had now loaded finned stakes into their weapons, couldn’t get a clear shot. She picked up a sealed 50 gallon drum and hurled it at her tormentors; mowing a couple down and making the others back up. Craig moved to help her when he realized the freak was getting up.

With the light behind him, he could see more detail. Veins the size of a man’s finger covered her whole body and pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat. Her muscles were deeply striated and ripped, with little or no fat over them. He could see her shoulders, upper chest and arms were covered in large zits and pustules. He had guessed right, she was a steroid user but more extreme than anything he had ever seen. It had even altered the bone structure of her face, sharpening and thickening it. Her face had a skeletal death’s head effect to it. She got her legs under her and launched herself at him.

Again he dove to the side, easily avoiding her lumbering attack. She crashed into the front of the Hummer and fell to the ground. She reached and pulled herself up using the steel brush guard bars that protected the truck’s grille. She seemed to steady herself as her hands tightened on the main vertical bars. Then her back and arm muscles began to swell and grow. They kept getting bigger and bigger and a groaning, rending screech issued from the front of the truck as she ripped the whole steel bar assembly from the frame under the front end. She spun, wielding it over head and brought it down on Craig. All he could do was stretch up and meet it part way, then use his whole body as a giant shock absorber. He caught in his hands and her inhuman strength drove him down.

Unfortunately, that was what she had hoped for. At his maximum compression, she twisted the whole thing to the right and pulled him off balance, towards a low sided construction dumpster on the side of the court. She dropped her end and grabbed his shirt front, pulled him to his feet and slammed him against the dumpster side. She pinned his lower body with her tremendous legs, then placed a hand in the middle of his chest. She began to apply slow pressure, bending him backwards. She looked over at Lillyia, then back at him with a death smile.

“Enjoy your last look at that piece of pretty little bat ass of yours. I’m going to snap you in half, and then I’m going to over there and tear her limb from limb. If I’m lucky, you might stay conscious long enough to see me do it.” She let a chuckle go and increased the pressure enough that he began to see stars again and hear a roaring in his ears.

Suddenly, the pressure let up a little and his vision and hearing cleared. He heard shouts and saw Lillyia trying to climb the wall. A prod knocked her down, causing her to fall on some garbage cans. She rolled off and ducked under a low, rusting fire escape. Her hand reached up and wrenched one of the iron bars from its tread work and she swung it like a 2 handed sword. One of the crossbowmen fired, but she deflected it.

“I thought I told you morons to corner her and how to control her.” The freak shouted.

Temporarily distracted, Craig scanned for anything he could grab and found a piece of steel conduit in reach, inside the dumpster. When she turned back, he swung it as hard as he could, connecting with the side of her head. Stunned, she stumbled backwards and reached up to feel the large bloody contusion he had left. She looked at him.

“That hurt.”

He swung again, but she caught it under one arm and stripped it from. She then folded it in half, then folded the double in half as if it were a plastic straw. Just then, Lillyia screamed, a crossbow bolt had grazed her upper arm. She reached up and grabbed the main support for the derelict fire escape. Her muscles rippled and bulged and with a mighty groan of iron pulling from concrete, it came crashing down on the lead rank of thugs, crushing them. Another volley of bolts forced her down again.

That was it, he had had it. Craig felt something light up in him, it might have been an adrenaline rush, but a fire roared through him. He turned towards the leader and swung as hard as he could, connecting with her midsection. She doubled over as her abs collapsed at the pile driver assault. She recovered and swung back at him. He ducked under the swing then pushed it past him, using her own inertia against her. As she fell past, he spun and pounded his right elbow into her kidney, then continued the motion and hit her other one with left fist. His last move was pushing her in the butt, sending her face first into the wall.

Then he heard the crack of another cattle prod and Lillyia’s shout of pain and the fury stoked even higher. He reached down and picked up the huge woman by the neck and crotch and hoisted her 350 pound frame over his head and slammed down on the edge of the dumpster. He heard the sickening cracking and grinding of her spine breaking in multiple places. He felt an explained and disturbing wave of pleasure at the sound. Then he raised the limp form up again and threw it at the thugs around Lillyia. It bowled them down like a perfect strike in ten pins. He collapsed against the dumpster, drained.

Her tormentors knocked down, Lillyia lept over the downed fire escape and the lifeless body of their leader, straight at the bowman that nicked her. She swatted at him with a vicious back hand to the head that snapped his neck. She grabbed the woman next to him and stripped her crossbow from her and shoved into her stomach. The woman dropped, coughing up blood and died. The rest turned to flee for the Hummer but Lillyia caught one more, a tall, athletic looking man. He threw a hard punch at her stomach that Craig heard connect with a thump, it didn’t even phase her. She grabbed his forearm and twisted it, shattering it in multiple places. She then dug her fingers into his neck, crushing it in a bloody mess. By this time, the rest had reached the  Hummer and were diving into any open door or window. A man in a heavy beard grabbed the driver’s position, threw it into reverse before all the doors were closed, and tore 2 of them off on the alley wall as they rounded the corner.

Craig lifted himself off the dumpster and headed towards her as she snarled at the disappearing vehicle. As he passed the leader, he could hear her gurgling something as life slipped away. He leaned down and listened carefully.

“Cassandra” and she fell silent.

“What did she say?” Lillyia had approached him from behind and placed her hand on his shoulder.

Before he could answer, the Hummer came roaring around the corner again, accelerating to crush them against the wall. They dove to their left, landing by the dumpster. The Hummer missed and hit the wall, reversed, and came at them again.
Lillyia grabbed the bottom corner of the dumpster and heaved it on its side. She then pushed it head on to the truck, smashing in the grille, setting the airbags off and stopping it dead in its tracks. She continued to push, both the dumpster and the Hummer, backwards until it was wedged against the wall. Craig’s mouth fell open as she lifted the whole steel dumpster by one end and smashed it down the roof of the truck. She let go and it tumbled off to one side, blocking his view of the wreckage. He moved towards her but she spun and he felt a chill of total fear go through him. Her teeth were fully bared, hear eyes were bright red, her muscles taut and shredded, the nails of her hands had become long claws.

“Stay back.” She said but it wasn’t her voice. It was deep, growling, animalistic and inhuman. She turned back towards the dumpster and disappeared behind it. Soon he heard the sound of metal shredding and a several abruptly extinguished screams. Then it was silent again. It seemed like an hour until she reappeared.

As she drew close, he could see her body had returned to normal but was covered in pulsing veins, bright red against her pale skin. She looked at him, then at herself and the human blood that filled her. Her hands began to shake, then her arms and finally her body. Craig grabbed her as she began to collapse and held her close, stroking her hair. Soon, her arms circled his body and hugged him back.

“I never wanted to be that again. I never wanted you to see me like that.”

They both looked at the bodies strewn about them. He took her hand, picked up his jacket and started to lead her out of the alley.

It was then they saw flashing blue lights appear on the wall of the alleyway.

Con't………..

[Robert McNay]

Part 3: Escape and Denouement

Craig saw headlights sweep across the wall and knew that meant the car had turned into the alley. Lillyia looked down the other direction and saw the same thing. She looked up at the buildings around them.

“Which way is the garage?”

“That way.” He pointed down the way the Hummer had come and where the squad car was approaching.

She pulled him towards the wall in the direction they needed to go. She took her high heels off and stuffed them in his jacket pockets. She then turned her back to him.

“Put your arms around my neck and don’t let go.”

He did as ordered and felt himself suddenly and swiftly lifted upward. Like some sort of superhuman rock climber, Lillyia scaled the wall of the building, using even the smallest of hand and toe holds. Effortlessly, she hauled him with her in the rapid ascent. Near the top, she had to use her claws to make handholds in the mortar between the bricks. At the top of the 6th floor, she heaved them over the cornice and onto the roof. He landed first, her on top of him, knocking the wind out of his lungs. He was always stunned at how heavy she was.

They scrambled to their feet and went to peer over the side. Police cars and officers on foot were advancing into the alley from both directions. As they ran around the edge, they could see the whole block was surrounded. Craig returned to the courtyard side and looked over. The first officers had reached the remains of the Hummer. One was already vomiting at the carnage. As he looked, his own bile began to rise. Then he felt a soft touch on his back.

“Please. Come away from there.”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked.”

She touched his cheek gently and stroked it. Her eyes looked into his.

“It’s probably for the best that you saw that. You need to know what I’m capable of.”

“What if I said that I love you, no matter what.”

Her eyes went wide and her mouth moved but nothing came out. She touched his chest and sniffed, like that first night.

“No, you won’t sense any deception.”

She smiled, then kissed and hugged him so hard that he felt like she was going to suck all the air out of his lungs and crush his body. It did remind him that he was almost folded in half a just few minutes ago. She felt his pain and eased up on the hug, but not the kiss.

After a few minutes, they returned to check the streets below, only to find them still filled with the city’s finest.

“It looks like we are stuck here for awhile.” She said.

“Well, we need to get unstuck.” He pointed in the distance. The unmistakable “whop-whop” noise heralded the imminent arrival of the police helicopter. “We need to get off this roof.”

She ran to the street side and looked across it at the next building. It was a large one that covered the whole block and was a story shorter. Beyond it, she could see the roof of the garage, a story shorter than the one before them. She gauged the distance. After a few deep breaths, Lillyia turned to Craig.

“Do you trust me?”

He nodded yes. She immediately grabbed his arms, put them around her neck like when they were climbing and lifted him off his feet. She took 3 long strides and pushed off from the edge of the roof. They sailed high above the street lights, out of sight of the police below. He cringed as they flew across the chasm and plummeted towards the building opposite. Her mental calculations were perfect, they landed about 6 from the edge of the far roof, her powerful legs absorbing the shock of the landing. She released his hands and he stumbled back a step.

“By myself, that just would have been nothing. I could do it all night, but I had to figure in your weight added to mine. I wasn’t 100% sure.”

“Okay, just warn me next time.”

They sprinted across the roof, towards the garage. To their dismay, they found police cars on the next street, but these were escorting some sort of late night march.

“Well, there is no alleyway and we can’t exactly crawl down the front of the place. It might be obvious. Can you do that jump again?”

“I’m really not sure this time. This street is 2 lanes wider than the last. By myself, yes. The 2 of us?” and she shrugged.

Craig looked back. The police helicopter had arrived and was scanning the roof tops closest to the fight scene. They won’t search this roof top but if they orbit this way, they might see them anyways. He turned back to her.

“I told you I trust you. I do, with my very life, to the end. Your call.”

Lillyia bit her lip, looked across, then back at him. She measured off 5 steps and turned her back towards him. He kissed the nape of her neck, and put his arms over her shoulders. She closed her eyes, took several long breaths and started to run full speed at the chasm. Her last step was a small jump that placed her feet on the roof edge in a crouch. Like 2 powerful pistons, her legs pushed off with everything they had.

As they sailed silently overhead of the crowds and police, Craig felt like it was slow motion. It was tranquil and beautiful, until he saw their trajectory was taking them past the empty spaces along the outer wall of the garage roof. They missed the first row, sailed over the second and landed on the third. The third was occupied by something red and low slung and they crashed onto its roof, collapsing it and blowing out the glass.

Both of them lay there, experiencing the pain for a moment and then rolled off. As they stumbled to the back of it, he pulled her shoes out of his pockets and handed them to her.  She paused to steady herself on the rear corner of the flattened car and put them on. It was then Craig realized they had landed on top of a new Ferrari Maranello.

“Oooo, Enzo would have been livid.” He said.

“No, he hates that model. Come on.” They jogged towards the door leading to the stairs, and down one level.

Just as the door closes behind them, an elevator of the nearby bank opens. Out steps the supermodel on the arm of a slick with gold chains and a collar open too far. He leads her out into the night and presses the button on his key fob to make the lights flash on his brand new Ferrari as they approach.

Craig opened the door to his condo and flipped on the lights. Lillyia followed right behind him, tossing her once again removed shoes under the foyer table. He closed the door and dropped the stuff from his pockets on top of it.
In the living room, he peeled his jacket off and looked at his shredded shirt, then pulled the remains of it off. He used the scraps to wipe the blood from the scratches and cuts all over his body as he headed towards the liquor cabinet. From it, he pulled a bottle of expensive Scotch whiskey and a shot glass. Filling the shot glass, he lifted it to his lips, only to find it intercepted by Lillyia’s hand. She took it, downed it and held it out for more, he refilled it. They repeated this set of steps 4 times before she handed the glass back to him and turned towards the guest bathroom. He took 2 shots and put it back.

“I’m going to take a shower.” She said and disappeared through the door.
Needing one himself, he headed towards his bedroom, shedding the rest of his clothes as he passed through it. In the shower, he cranked it to the hottest he can take and leaned against the wall, just feeling the sting cascade over him. After a few minutes, he switched the head to a massage setting and swayed under it, letting the water pound on his shoulders and neck. He finished and gave himself a cursory drying off and threw a bathrobe on. He headed back to the living room.

Lillyia was already there, wearing a similar bathrobe, hair wet and stringy, makeup gone and staring into space. He imagined that it was the same stare his grandfather told him about, that guys got in Vietnam. He called it the “thousand mile stare”. He sat down and she pulled her legs up against her and leaned on him. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They sat like that for a long time.

She broke the silence first.

“Vampire hunters are never the first to know anything. They are scum that pick up trailings thinking they are doing mankind a service.”

“In other words, if they know about us, then others must, too.”

She shook her head yes. They both let that sink in.

“Well, you could move in here, it’s a high security building. That would stop the human threat and leave only the other. There’s plenty of room and 2 more bedrooms.”

Lillyia sat up and looked at him, “Why do you think we would need more than one bedroom?” A smile came to her lips for the first time in the 2 hours since the fight.

“You know, women like to have their own space and such.”

“It would give you a night to actually sleep and rest occasionally, too.”

He looked thoughtful for a minute, “You know, that dumpster thing you did. I knew you were strong but not THAT strong.”

She leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I wasn’t before I met you.”

She picked up the remote on the table and dimmed the lights to off, leaving nothing but starlight, and their old friend, moonlight, cascading through the glass curtain wall. She rolled over, straddled him and pushed his bathrobe open, exposing his chest. She held up her index finger and morphed the nail into a claw, then slowly drug its tip down his chest. He shivered at the sensation and she did it again, with all 5 fingers. He closed his eyes and let his head drop back, exposing his neck. She hesitated at the sight, flashing back to earlier, but then she felt the smell from him and the warmth of his essence. Her bite was gentle, soft and almost imperceptible. He only knew she had done it when the warmth began its spread throughout his body. Her draws of his blood were equally careful, even loving in their feel.

Sated, she drew her hands along his cheeks and stood up. He watched her hands undo the belt of her bathrobe. With a shrug of her shoulders, the robe fell about her feet and the light of the night bathed her body. He felt his body respond, enhanced by her injection. She turned slowly and walked towards his bed room. He watched the muscles of her body ripple, flex and flow as she moved. At the door, she paused and looked back. Her eyes flared briefly, she licked her lips and melded with the darkness of the room beyond.

He stood up and dropped his own robe as he joined her in the cover of night.

Fin

[Lupus14]

Oh no! Not "Fin" !!!  :-[
That was so beautiful! Please continue the story!

[Robert McNay]

Oh no! Not "Fin" !!!  :-[
That was so beautiful! Please continue the story!

Its not the end of Craig & Lillyia, just this story. I'm going to step away from them for awhile.

Some one commented on how intense the first one (Courting Darkness, etc) was. If you thought it was intense to read, just imagine what it was like to write it.

I don't do written outlines, the story visually plays in my head (my writing has been complimented before because the reader could "see" it in his head, that's why). If I change something, I rewind and start it over. Or I may replay it a dozen times until I figure out how to fix what doesn't feel right about it. Its like a movie editor sitting at a moviola with rolls of celluloid to cut together.

Add to that, I write my main characters as people who I would like to know and manipulating them through the course of the story, I tend to get involved with them.

Last, I think I mentioned in the comments for "CD,SD" that certain aspects of my stories involve more than a little of my own fantasies about people and things. That just adds to the intensity.

I have ideas for 1 maybe 2 more stories for them, but it will be awhile.

To be honest, I'm not sure these stories are playing all that well with denizens of this site. First, they are told from the guy's point of view. Second, I made a massive FBB a villian in the second part, then let the guy kill her.
From other stories I've read on here, those 2 things alone could be label me as a "heretic" amongst its denizens..  ;D

I have another story arc I'm mulling over, it might be more to the liking of the site's general audience.

Thanks for reading what I've posted so far.

[Cowprobe]

While this may be the conduit of fantasy fulfillment it still has enough substance to be a good tale.

Sure the pair are supremely gifted in physique and social capital but they still have human feelings.

A great beginning with much potential, CptMatt.

I like how the city itself was something of a character as well. The anonymous urban territory has a dense overlap of culture and learning with a vibrant enough population that there would even be night marches for the police to monitor. I like it's anonymity because it gives the 'everyplace' feeling like in the film Seven.

There's someone out there supplying designer steroids to vampire harvesters. After all if there's a market for rare and endangered creatures for modern day alchemy in the real world imagine the market for fictional night feeders bodily chemicals.

Lillyia had to have gleaned her more researched conclusions about her nature from more than just experience. If that body of knowledge found its way to the pharmaceuticals industry it might fetch quite the price.

Thanks for sharing your thorough nocturnal ruminations.

You keep writing and I'll keep reading.

[Lupus14]

I have ideas for 1 maybe 2 more stories for them, but it will be awhile.

To be honest, I'm not sure these stories are playing all that well with denizens of this site. First, they are told from the guy's point of view. Second, I made a massive FBB a villian in the second part, then let the guy kill her.
From other stories I've read on here, those 2 things alone could be label me as a "heretic" amongst its denizens..  ;D

I have another story arc I'm mulling over, it might be more to the liking of the site's general audience.

Thanks for reading what I've posted so far.

The way you described the "steroid monster" I did indeed feel pity when she was killed. But then again, describing her face made it much more acceptable and I was able to get over it.  ;D No, seriously – what kind of challenge would it have been for the hero, if he would punch out some skinny girl?

One reason I'm so disappointed that the story is closed, is because you left some "open ends" in it, where I'm curious to know why you wrote it, what it means, how it fits in the plot etc.

There were several police cars, their blue lights flashing, and fire department paramedic unit. Just then, a mobile crime scene lab rolled up. They walked to the edge of the crime scene tape. Several officers were talking about a murder of a homeless couple, apparently the crime scene was large and blocked the whole cross street. Craig turned around to find the other street was still closed by construction and impassible.

Who is the "homeless couple"? Who killed them, why – has it to do with the vampires or the hunters? Has it to do with the restaurant? Were the part of the menu?  ???  It's like reading Sherlock Holmes finding a corpse and then in the entire book it doesn't get resolved what it's all about.

The other thing was with the last whisper of the steroid monster. "Cassandra" Was it a warning, a hint or her name?

You understand my dilemma? I thought you are building up suspense for the next chapters where these riddles will be explained and resolved. Heck I think it would even interest Craig what or who "Cassandra" is, when his dying victim whispers it in his ear.

Anyway, this story has lots of potential and I hope to read more of it.
Thanks.

[Author]

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