Vampire For Hire by Kim Pritekel

Vampire For Hire
by Kim Pritekel

Brice sat at the kitchen table, black hair pushed to one side so the long length would stay out of her face as she chewed on her lower lip, careful not to chew too hard, and studied the ledger of her checkbook. The tip of a pen hovered over the neatly organized letters and numbers, waiting to be of use to its owner.

“Damn.” She muttered, rechecking her addition and subtraction one more time. This she was good at, doing it all day long working as an accountant at Schmidt & Heuber. “Knew I should have gotten my CPA.” She muttered before she closed the checkbook with a heavy sigh, glancing over at the corner of her small living, room, the empty space near the window mocking her.

Her ancient console television had died on her two days ago, and it was driving her mad. She could take the money out of savings to buy a new one, but that just didn’t seem practical to her highly practical mind, so it was time to sit down and look at the books to see if any corners could be cut somewhere, and of course, that would have been entirely too easy.

“Gotta get a second job.” She muttered, stuffing the checkbook back into her bag, and staring out the kitchen window with a sigh. The fall leaves were swirling around her small, neatly manicured yard, the colors brilliant in the Colorado autumn, the end of October quickly approaching.

When Brice had gone TV shopping the other day, she had seen the wonders of the modern television world, certainly much different than from before, and now she looked at them wide-eyed and full of wonder and awe. Flat screen, big screen, small screen, ridiculously huge screen. Anything the avid television watcher like herself could want. That was her main mode of entertainment. After all, with her situation, going out and having a good time wasn’t so easy. Especially with how the others felt about her unique abilities.

Time to start looking. All she needed was a quick fix to earn some extra cash without turning her life upside down. She thought for a moment, then hurried outside to the early morning Sunday, and grabbed the newspaper from the front porch where it was neatly bundled with the front page up, a blue rubber band holding its contents together.

Brice valued her neatness.

“Let’s see,” she muttered as she slid the band off, and opened the thick Denver Post. Searching through the pages until she found the classifieds, she looked for the Help Wanted, then stopped when she saw the picture of a Jack-o-lantern on the front page. Once again chewing on her lower lip, an idea began to form.

Putting the paper aside, Brice hurried to the bathroom, and threw on the switch, looking at her reflection. Blue eyes stared back at her, a hand running through her thick, dark hair, pulling it back so she could examine herself without the burden. She wished she could cut it off. Tried that, was a mistake.

Her mind cleared itself of all other thoughts, and she began to concentrate. She hated how much she had to focus, hearing from others how easy it was for them. But, then again, it went with her blessing/curse.

She winced slightly at the sickening sucking sound that always happened during what she liked to call the “horn-growing stage.” Opening her mouth wide, she watched as the white canines slid down gracefully, the bathroom light glinting menacingly off of one of them, her other teeth groaning in protest for the intrusion.

Wiping the excess spit from the corners of her mouth, she looked closely at the fangs, looking this way and that, seeing how they looked from different angles. Opening her mouth wide, she fixed her face in what she hoped looked like a vicious snarl, blowing air between her teeth, only to sputter and cough when a pocket of saliva got caught in her throat, causing her to choke.

“Ahem, I can do this.” She cleared her throat once more, then tried it again. The hiss sounded good this time, but she still thought she looked more like she was constipated than menacing. “Come on Brice. You’re a vampire, devil’s spawn, one of the children of the night, you can scare the crap out of a twelve year old boy, for crying out loud!” she tried the pep-talk method, hoping that would help her become scary.

After an hour of this, Brice decided she was ready. She took a nice, long, hot shower, relishing the feel of the water as it ran all over her body, she made sure to thoroughly brush her teeth, including the canines, to make them as white as possible and make them stand out all the more. She just hoped they wouldn’t retract at the wrong time.

Dressing to be scary could in itself, be scary. She stood at the closet, staring at the double doors, then with a deep breath, pulled them open to reveal a smattering of business suits, slacks, silk blouses, button up shirts, sweaters, heels and flats.

Yeah, no.

For this she’d actually need something that was, what would you say, scary? Sexy? Both?

“Hmm.” Finger bouncing on her chin as she thought, Brice turned to look at her dresser, walking over to it. She knew she had a drawer of clothing that she had planned to go through, jeans and sweatshirts from her college days, and decided to look through there.

As a kid around Halloween time when Brice had started thinking of costumes, her mother would take her down to Goodwill where she’d always piece together something creative. And, since all these clothes were destined for Goodwill, it seemed as though a circle of sorts had been completed. Brice never dressed up for the holiday anymore, thinking that dressing up as some monster for a night seemed redundant.

She knelt down, knees popping as her joints reminded her of one too many games of basketball in high school, and pulled the drawer open, the smell of wood polish and long forgotten clothes meeting her sensitive nose. The top garment was a neatly folded sweatshirt bearing the letters DU, her alma mater. Smiling at the swirl of memories that sweatshirt brought, she took it out, and set the gray sweatshirt aside, digging deeper to see what else she could find in the treasure trove of lost memories and years.

Setting aside more university tee shirts and sweatshirts, even a pair of boxers that she decided to keep since that was her preferred garment for slumber, she finally got down to a few pairs of jeans. Unfolding one pair and holding them up, she smiled, tossing them to the bed, and putting the clothing back, slamming the drawer shut.

Standing before the mirror that adorned one of the closet doors, she studied her reflection, turning to the side to scan her profile, running a hand down the front of her body, liking what she saw and felt. But, something seemed to be missing. With narrowed brows, dark as the night, an idea struck and she hurried to the coat closet by the front door. Returning to the mirror once more, she slid her arms into stiff sleeves, the leather creaking as she moved.

Grabbing the bottom cuff of the black jacket, Brice studied her reflection again, the black tank top tight and ribbed, hugging her upper body, the jeans fitted in all the right places, a large hole ripped into the right knee, slightly fringed along the bottoms from many, many uses. Blue eyes traveled up her form, taking in all the details she tried to throw into it, finally settling on the black leather motorcycle jacket.

“I look like a total cliché.” She muttered, but, perhaps that was what would sell her. She drew her arched brows down, and raised her upper lip, willing the canines to fall into place, wanting the whole picture.

Teeth formed and dangerously sharp, she opened her mouth in a silent hiss, seeing just what others would see.

Yeah, she had it made.

“Okay. Here goes.” Grabbing her keys off the table, and tossing them up in the air only to catch them, Brice made her way out to her SUV, parked neatly in the small, one car garage, and started it up. She hated this part, what she called the adjustment. But, to leave, she had to do it.

As she backed the black Durango out into the sunlight, she winced slightly, making sure to put her Oakleys on to protect delicate blue eyes, made more sun-sensitive since the embrace nearly twelve years ago. Even so, as she drove down her quiet, peaceful street, the sun blazing above the tree-lined lane, she remembered back to a much simpler time, a time when she didn’t have to watch her back, didn’t have to worry about fellow darkness following her, some jealous, some wary of what she could do that they couldn’t, while when flipping the coin, there was always the hunters.

Brice didn’t want to think about all this right now. She had a mission, and was determined.

“Okay, so scary,” all the faces she had ever seen in horror movies flashed through her brain, trying to settle on one that would work best with her facial features and structure. She had recently seen Interview with the Vampire, and tried to conjure up Brad Pitt’s face as he snarled at Tom Cruise, or maybe Antonio Banderas’ face when he got angry as Armand. She bared her teeth, minus the fangs at this point, leering at her reflection in the mirror as she stopped for a traffic light. The guy honking behind her got her going again.

As she drove, for some reason memories and thoughts were coming to mind, not easily jilted as she rarely allowed her thoughts to go beyond her day, or what she had to do the next day. If she kept her life neat and organized, she wouldn’t have to think.

A flash of that night, that night while walking back with two of her girlfriends from the party at Seth’s, headed back to the dorms, the dark figure who had been lying in wait, the dark figure that she had seen a thousand times before. At first he had scared her, but then she got so used to seeing him around, she just chalked it up to some strange guy, probably in the Drama department for the way he dressed, so dramatic and tragic.

But that night he didn’t leave her alone. He had grabbed her when she’d least been expecting it, going to the trouble to follow her into the building, and then into her dorm room where she had been single bunked that year.

Shaking her head to clear it, Brice concentrated on the road and the day. It didn’t matter now; what was done was done, and she had made a life for herself, a relatively normal one, if you looked past the bags of dinner that were in her freezer. It was easier and less messy and traumatic for her that way. Find a friend in the plasma business, and you were set.

Brice felt relatively confident as she pulled her SUV into the parking lot of the large building that would host next weekend’s haunted house. There were a few cars here as people put the house together, and she could her a scream come from inside, her keen ears picking up the sounds of the wires moving something around, then voices as the controllers talked about it, and how it needed to be moved over three feet to the left.

The place was kind of creepy in an abandoned-looking, covered up, good place to hide a body, kind of way. But then she reasoned that they must be doing something right, cause that was the point of a haunted house.

“Can I help you?” someone asked. Brice turned to see a man walking by, a ladder hung on her shoulder, a question in his eyes. He looked her up and down, a slow grin coming to his face, a dimple winking at her from his right cheek.

“Well, I need a job. I was wondering if you guys needed anything in the haunted house, you know, like, maybe a vampire, or something?” She smiled at him, the fangs extended before she got out of the car for good measure. It was beyond strange to be showing them to a mortal on purpose.

“Hmm.” He rubbed his scruffy chin. “I’m not real sure. Come on in and meet the boss. He can tell you better than me.” He headed toward the building, and Brice followed, looking around, making sure she wasn’t being followed or watched. Old habits die hard.

As they entered, the place was well-lit, huge black plastic canvases hung in a maze, which the customers would walk, monsters and ghouls hiding behind the walls to do their thing.

“Yo, Roger!” Ladder boy called out.

“What?” was barked from somewhere.

“We got a lady here who wants a job.”


“Job, lady, here.”

“Take her to my office.” The disembodied voice ordered, and the guy leaned the ladder against one of the “walls” and smiled at her.

“Come with me.” Brice followed him through twists and turns, seeing people working on making things bloodier, for instance, they passed what would ultimately look like a restaurant scene, a woman working make-up magic on the uncovered platter, which was a skinned human head.

Grimacing, Brice turned away, glad that the guy was holding open a flap of the plastic for her to enter into. She had a weak stomach for violence.

“Go ahead and have a seat. Roger will be here in a sec.” With one last dimple-filled smile, he was gone.

Brice sat in the only other chair that was in the tiny, closet-sized room, a small metal desk in front of her with another fold up chair behind it. She sat up straight, legs together, hands in her lap as she waited. Within a few minutes, she heard loud footfalls from outside the office, then a rather robust man walked in, his tee shirt, stretched to the limit from his bulk, sweat stains a bull’s-eye where his belly button was, he sat with a groan behind the desk, the chair groaning just as loud in protest.

“So,” he said, looking at her as he ran a meaty hand through sandy colored hair. “You want to work for us, eh?” he looked her over, taking in her posture, picture perfect, and indicative of a stick up her ass, his small eyes squinting even more as he tried to picture just what the hell they could do with her. “Do you have any experience?”

“Well, uh,” Brice thought for a moment, her sweaty fingers rubbing together. “I have quite a lot of experience as a vampire.” She smiled, fangs gleaming, the sharp tips grazing across her bottom lip.

Roger leaned forward in his chair, hands on his knees as he squinted again, focusing in on the fangs. His thick lips moved into a sneer.

“Those things don’t even look real. How can you be a convincing vampire if your fangs suck?”

Brice blinked, then she blinked again.

“Get outta here!”

Brice sat in her car, still stunned that she was there at all. Ladder boy had given her a sympathetic smile as he’d lead her back through the maze.

“Maybe next year, huh?”

“They don’t look real?” she looked at herself in the rearview mirror, running the tip of her thumb over the twin points, staring at the tiny pearl of blood that was beginning to bubble from the razor-sharp canines. “They don’t look real?”

Shaking her head to clear it, she turned the engine on, and grabbed the classified section from the paper that she’d taken with her. With a sigh, she saw another location for a haunted house that wasn’t far from this one.

> : } { : <
Brice sat in the overstuffed chair, once again, back straight, proper posture is important, legs together, hands gripping the arms of the chair, watching the man as he paced in front of her.

“Our haunted house is the best in Denver proper. We get over a three thousand visitors a year, and I have to know I’m gonna make a profit on you.” He stopped, cigarette bouncing between his lips as he talked. Suddenly the butt stilled, and he turned on her, hands behind his back. “Can you be scary, huh?”

Brice raised her hands, fingers screwed into claws, and opened her mouth, fangs gleaming menacingly in the bright halogen lights above. The man looked at her, she hissed for good measure.

He stood straight, heading for the door, then turned to look at her.

“Teeth ain’t bad, but you just ain’t scary enough.”

> : } { : <
Brice crossed an ankle over her knee, one hand on her thigh, the other resting peacefully in her lap, head slightly cocked to the side.

“You don’t exude what I’d call an ‘evil’ vibe.” The Goth used his fingers as quote marks to emphasize the word, his white face smeared with dark eyes and red slashed lips evil and scary enough for both of them.

> : } { : <
“You’re not tall enough.”

Her ankle slid from her knee, smile off her face, hands running through her hair.

> : } { : <
“Gosh, the teeth are marvelous, but sweetie, you’re missing a small, slightly important detail.” The guy who had introduced himself as Todd Silver had said, his fine features belying his supposed masculinity.

“What’s that?” Brice asked, about ready to go Dracula on his queer ass.

“Well, for one a penis, and for two, a pimp.”

> : } { : <
Night had fallen, and Brice was about to give up. How the hell difficult was it to get a damn job in a haunted house?! This had been the most exasperating day of her life. And that was saying a lot.

She drove the Durango, giving up on the idea of a new TV, her mouth hurting from sporting a damn pair of fangs all day, and was about to take the Mouse Trap to head home when she saw a sign.

Haunted House Coming Soon!

She read the address, seeing that it was in Five Points, not a real smart place to be doing something like this, but decided to head over there anyway. After all, what was the worst that could happen? She could be staked, set on fire then beheaded?

Flicking her left turn signal, Brice waited for a white Honda Accord to turn, then swiftly followed. She had a little bit of a drive, but that was okay. She just hoped this wouldn’t take long, if they even saw her. Hell, she glanced at the clock on the dashboard, if they were still there. It was nearly eight-thirty at night, haunted house hopping, and not the fun kind, had taken all damn day, and for what? A lost tank of gas, and a serious blow to her ego.

Not scary enough, fake-looking fangs, not pretty enough, too pretty, what the hell? What the hell did the modern day haunted house owner look for in a vampire, anyway?

Brice saw the address up ahead, the building small, but large enough to host a decent show. There was one light on the premises, an orange street light hanging over the door to the building, a single car in the dirt lot.

She parked the SUV next to the small sedan, and with one last look in the mirror, running her tongue over the canines, she headed toward the door.

“Excuse me,” Brice stopped in her tracks, looking around for the voice that seemed to come from nowhere. “Yeah, you in the black leather jacket, yes, you, you poser.”

Brice looked around, then her brows narrowed when she realized that the voice was talking to her. Poser? How rude.

Suddenly the door slammed open, and a little lady with an awfully big gun stood on the stoop, legs spread wide in aggression.

“Whoa!” Brice held her hands up to avoid being shot. She had no idea how to explain a gaping wound in her anatomy that bothered her not much more than the bite of a mosquito.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? We’re not open, yet.”

“Well, I know. My name is Brice, Brice Kingsly, and I’m here for a job.” The woman stared at her for a moment, the gun still leveled at Brice’s chest.

“Huh? A job?”

“Yes. This is the place where the haunted house will be, right?”

“Yeah, but in like, what, a week? I don’t know if you’ve consulted your local calendar lately, but Halloween’s next weekend.”

“Listen, I’d really feel much safer if you’d put the gun down.” Brice tried to give the woman her most winning smile. The woman studied her again, then Brice heard the click of the hammer being released, and the gun fell to the woman’s side.

“Sorry. In this neighborhood, well, anyway.” She turned and opened the door behind her. “Come on.”

Brice took a deep breath, grateful for the end of the dramatics. But then, not every woman had the defenses that she did, so she tried to look at the positive side.

The building was dark for the most part, leaving the guts in shadow. A single bulb could be seen burning off the right in what appeared to be a small office of sorts.

“Sit down.” She heard called from the room. Brice picked up her pace, and found two chairs in front of a small table where a laptop was set up, the woman sitting behind it. Finally able to get a clear view of the petit blonde, she saw that her short hair was tucked behind an ear, the strands messy, as though she had just woken up, yet Brice had the feeling that the messy look was intentional. Green eyes stared at her from a tired face, rounded chin resting in the palm of her hand. “Sit.” The blonde said again.

The vampire was totally taken aback, and left nearly breathless. This brave, lone gunman was beautiful, and something else. Something about her reached out and touched Brice.

She cleared all of this out of her mind, readying herself to be dismissed within five seconds.

Weary from a long day, and entirely too much rejection to be healthy for anyone, Brice plopped down in the first of the two chairs, body sliding down so that both boots rested squarely on the thinly carpeted floor, body slouched, arms hanging over the sides of her body, head cocked to the side, looking almost bored, just waiting for the invitation to leave and never return.

“So,” the woman said, “You said you’re looking for a job. What do you do, exactly?” her eyes scanned Brice’s body, brows raised in curiosity as she tried to figure out this strange, dark woman who had shown up just as she was about to head home

“Whatever. I can do whatever.” Brice said, running a hand through her hair. The blonde sat up.

“You have no specialty? Talent? Skill? Anything?” she asked at the shaking of the dark head. “Hmm.” She stood, walking around the table to perch on the edge near Brice. “What do you expect me to have you do then?” there was a slight smile on her lips. She looked mildly amused, and utterly adorable.

“Well, what do you need done? I mean, do you have your fill of mummies and guys running around with chainsaws and knives?” Brice asked with a snort.

“Well,” the blonde crossed her arms over her chest. “We do, however, it may just be your lucky day.” She pushed off the desk and sat in the chair next to Brice’s. “Just yesterday my vampire walked off the project. Have you ever done one? You know, as a kid dressing up in some cape with white grease paint, fake blood droplets painted at either corner of your mouth?” she smiled. Brice looked at her, thinking that she’d really like to work on, er, for this woman.

“Well, I do have some experience.” She grinned.

“Oh yeah? Show me.”

Brice opened her mouth, exposing the fangs, hissing as she moved in toward the blonde’s neck, gently scraping the points over her skin. The woman gave an involuntary shiver as goose bumps rose all over her body.

Shocked at her own actions, but with a grin firmly in place, Brice sat back, hands neatly folded in her lap. “How’s that?” the blonde sat forward, eyes narrowing as she looked at Brice’s mouth.

“Let me see those.” Brice opened her mouth, slightly nervous at the close inspection. “Wow. Those are great.” She smiled. “Either you had your teeth filed, or those are some of the most realistic set of fangs I’ve ever seen.”

The woman reached out, bringing her finger to one of the points, scraping it along the edge. “Ouch!” jerking her hand away, she pulled her hand to her body, sucking on the finger that had been slightly cut. “Are ay umerble?” she asked around the finger as she sucked.

“Very.” Brice smirked. She had always wondered if sporting a pair of fangs full time would be a unnerving, but they did just fine.

The blonde brought her hand down, and extended her non-salivaed one.

“I’d say you’ve got yourself a job.” She smiled. Brice took the hand.

“Really?” she was so excited, someone finally taking her serious!

“Absolutely. You’ve got a good thing going there. You’re not the typical, stupid vampire with the cape, slicked hair, yadda, yadda, yadda. No,” she stood, walking around Brice where she sat. “you’ve got a totally different approach going. I mean, well, for one, you’re female, and the ripped jeans, black leather, kind of a stylish, rebellious teen thing, going. I like it. Oh, I’m Sasha, by the way.”


“So you said.”

Stylish? Wow. No one had called her that in, well, ever.

“So, what’s your schedule? Do you work? Go to school? When can you come in to rehearse?”

School? Brice smiled. One great thing about the embrace is that it slowed the aging process way down. Brice looked as though she could have graduated from high school last year, or perhaps was half way through college, when in fact, she could be a full-fledge doctor now with a soaring practice.

It had been hell when she’d gotten her job down at the firm. No one had taken her seriously until she’d been there for about a year and had had a performance review. She had gotten the highest marks of anyone there.

The partners still didn’t believe her when she told them how old she was, but she’d earned their respect through hard work.

“Actually, I’m an accountant. So, I work the typical Monday through Friday, nine to five. So nights are real good for me.” Sasha looked at her, cocking her head to the side.

“You’re an accountant?” Brice nodded, the blonde smiled. “Hot damn! Never would have thunk. Well, great then. How about you be here by seven?”

> : } { : <
Brice left the building with a bit of a spring in her step. She was thrilled with the possibilities of this new job, and she had to admit, thrilled with the possibilities of the blonde.

That thought stopped her cold. She had not given any thought to that sort of thing in some time. Not since Taylor. She didn’t want to put herself through that again. Or the blonde, for that matter. Vampires were a jealous bunch, and might as well be labeled cyanide.

Besides, all she knew about Sasha was that she was cute and ran a haunted house. She’d be great fodder for dreams, should she decide to allow any to come through.

> : } { : <

Brice sat in her office, the pangs of hunger stirring in her stomach, the two white fangs threatening to fall.

“Damn.” She had hoped to make it at least through these last few figures, but she wasn’t so sure anymore. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was after three. “Well, no wonder.” Missed lunch again. She knew she had to be careful or she was asking for another Ludlow Fisk incident. The memory made her shiver.

Calculating as fast as she could, she shut the computer down, grabbed the jacket to her suit from the hook behind her office door, and headed out, her jowls tingling with the thought of lunch.

> : } { : <
Brice dressed as she had the night of her interview with Sasha. She looked at herself in the mirror. Liking what she saw, she grabbed her keys, and headed out.

“Sasha, where do you want this?” the blonde looked up to see the star of her Chainsaw Massacre scene.

“Uh,” she looked up from the flat she was painting. “Take the bodies to the cemetery. Line them up on the crosses like I showed you.”

“Got it.”

“Incompetent.” She muttered, having told him that four times in the last two days. She turned back to her painting when suddenly the brush stilled, her hand not three inches from the wall. She felt like she was being watched, every hair on the back of her neck standing at attention.

Slowly turning, she saw the new hire, Brice, standing behind her, arms crossed over her leather-clad chest.

“Nice backdrop.” The accountant said.

“Thank you.” The blonde smiled. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well.” Brice looked around, workers coming and going, painting, sculpting, electricians hooking up wires for lights, sound systems, and effects. “Looks like quite the enterprise you’ve got going here.”

This woman made Brice feel more alive than she had in years, and it was almost addicting. She had to be careful and keep her distance from the small manager.

“Where do you want me?” Brice asked, unzipping the motorcycle jacket. Sasha had to stop herself from snorting at that question. Instead she told her to start working outside, helping with the cemetery that was being created.

Brice set out, doing as the other members of the haunted house had told her, digging, painting, lifting, burying, propping up creepily realistic-looking dummies of dead bodies.

“Creepy.” She muttered, finishing digging a “grave” where someone dressed like a dead person would pop out and scare customers as they waited in line.

Brice’s thoughts turned to Sasha. The blonde seemed nice, yet feisty, and just damn beautiful in general. The accountant almost felt protective over the woman. The blonde was so small, and looked fragile, but Brice had the distinct feeling that this was part of a ruse, belying the strength and confidence that ran just underneath the smooth skin.

I can’t think this way!

Perhaps she’d just keep an eye on her over the next week as they put the haunted house together, then of course over the weekend when they were open.

Brice stood still for a moment, allowing her senses to reach out through the darkness as it crept over the city, her feelers searching for Sasha.

“Okay, guys, either you get that wall to stay up, or get out of here! What the hell did I hire you to be carpenters for if you can’t do the job?” the blonde was saying, her voice echoing through Brice’s head.

“We tried-”

“No. No try, Harry. Either you do it or you don’t. There is no other way than mine. Got it? We don’t have much time to mess around here. I’ve told you this so many times before. It’s not new work, Harry.”

Brice heard the man mumble as he walked away, and she didn’t like what she heard coming from him one little bit.

“Men. They are absolutely stupid.” Sasha huffed, then beginning pounding on something with what sounded like a hammer. “You think you’re hiring good stuff, then they turn out to be imbeciles.”

“Yo, you gonna help or what?”

Brice was pulled from her musings when one of the other guys pulled her back, holding a shovel out to her.


> : } { : <
Everyone had left, the building dark as one by one the lights were turned out. A dark SUV sat undetected under a tree, the driver watching as Sasha locked up the doors, pulling on the knob to make sure, then headed toward her small Honda, whistling as she went, unlocking the driver’s side, and scooting behind the wheel. Headlights flicked on, and the car headed out of the dirt parking lot, followed by the SUV.

Sasha fiddled with the radio, keeping one eye on the road as she did, noticing a car pulling around the corner that she had just passed. Turning her attention back to the road and her quest for a good song, she headed home to her small apartment and her dog, Noodle.

Finally finding a song, she began to sing along with “I Drove All Night,” not the good version by Cyndi Lauper, mind you, but by the thief, who she ordinarily liked, Celine Dion. Her fingers tapped against the steering wheel.

“They never should have put a dance beat into this,” she muttered, flipping her turn signal as she prepared to turn into the parking lot of her building. She glanced in her rearview mirror, blonde brows narrowing when she realized the car that had turned behind her drove past the driveway to the complex. “Weird.” She muttered, and quickly parked, pulling her keys from the ignition, and getting out.

As Sasha closed and locked the car door, she had the strange feeling from before, like she was being watched. She looked over her shoulder, half expecting to find the vampire, but saw nothing. With a shrug, she turned to face her building, and almost ran headlong into her carpenter, Harry.

“Whoa.” She said, taking a small step back, noting the two guys standing behind him. “Hey, Harry. Um,” she looked around with her eyes, suddenly feeing really nervous. “What are you doing here? Payday isn’t until Friday, remember?” she gave him a smile, trying to lighten the situation and dissuade him from doing whatever it was he had in mind. He smiled at her, and she could smell the distinct stench of booze and pot on his breath.

“Payday’s tonight, darlin’.” He took a step closer, followed by his goons who were looking her up and down.

Oh, boy.

Sasha looked behind her, which was a mistake, cause when she turned back around, Harry was in her face, his eyes dark and angry.

“You made me look stupid today, bitch, and I don’t like that.”

“Well, Harry,” she choked out. “I think you managed to do that all on your own. I mean, you’re a great carpenter, I saw your work on my sister’s place-”

“Shut the fuck up.” He leaned in close, hot, sour breath on her face as he nuzzled in closer to her. “I don’t care about that.” He hissed into her ear. “You made me look bad, Sasha, and I don’t like that, not one bit. Now it’s time to-. Uh!”

Sasha sucked in a breath when suddenly there was nothing before her but the night air. She saw what could only be explained as a whirlwind, pulling Harry back, flinging him through the air so he clanged against the dumpster, sliding to the pavement, followed by his two friends. The black whirlwind finally stopped, not ten feet away from the blonde. She watched, her chest heaving in fear and surprise as the entire incident had taken mere seconds.

When the air cleared, Brice stood, crouched like a panther about to pounce. The blonde held her breath, fear streaming through her when the brunette looked at her, eyes wild.

Fearing she’d be next, Sasha began to run.

“No! Wait!”

Brice ran after Sasha, fighting the urge to use her special abilities, which she’d just used on three unfortunate men, and ran after the blonde with just the speed her long legs allotted.

“Sasha, wait!” she was gaining on the other woman quickly, and reached out, grabbing her arm. The blonde whipped around, her eyes filled with horror. Brice was taken aback by those eyes, a queasiness filling her stomach. Yet another mortal who could not see past what she was.

“Please, wait.” She begged. Brice wasn’t even breaking a sweat as Sasha tried to bring air into her over exerted lungs.

“My god. What are you?” the blonde asked, backing up from the accountant, finding her back against the brick of the building.

“Please calm down.” Brice stood a few feet away, giving the girl the space she needed. Sasha looked at her, her eyes expectant. “When I told you I had experience as a vampire,” Brice smiled ruefully. “I wasn’t kidding.”

Sasha’s face dropped, not sure she had actually heard what she thought she had.

“Wait, what?” she asked, taking a small step toward the other woman. “What are you saying, Brice?”

“I’m saying, I’m a, well,” Brice looked around, knowing that it could mean death for Sasha to know. “I’m a kindred.” The blonde burst out laughing.

“Brice, this is absurd. Vampires don’t exist.” She looked at the other woman, somehow feeling that she wasn’t as sure about things as she once was. She looked past the taller woman’s shoulder to see the three figures still slumped either on against the dumpster, or laying on the pavement of the parking lot. She wasn’t so sure. But vampires? She laughed, shaking her head. “Listen, I’m grateful you saved me from that asshole,” she stopped, brows drawn as she glanced toward where she had just come again. “Wait, Harry…”

“Is fine. They should wake up in an hour or so.” Brice said, taking in the beauty before her. The blonde hair, reaching to just below Sasha’s shoulders, the small, compact body, inquisitive green eyes, which were trained on her now. She studied the vampire, head slightly cocked to the side. Pushing off the wall, she looked up at the brunette, reaching a hand up.

“So, those fangs you showed me…” she caressed Brice’s chin. “They’re…”

“Yes.” Brice whispered, looking down. She felt ashamed, as if she were a fraud, though she knew damn well she wasn’t. She had reveled this truth to so few people for a number of reasons, but the main one being that she hated telling them. She always felt like some weird character out of some gothic story.

“But I don’t see them now.” Sasha said, gently pulling Brice’s bottom lip down.

“They retract. But I assure you, they’re there.” The blond nodded in understanding, continuing her assessment.

“Have you ever bitten anyone?” she asked, her voice losing its fear, and gaining only Brice’s fear, now. The low tone, the tension that spread forth between them was palpable.

“Yes.” It was Brice’s turn to take a step back. If her heart still beat, it would have been doing so wildly, true fear clenching her as she wondered what this girl was doing, making her feel.

“Bite me.” She said, a half smile curving those wonderful lips. She was caressing the side of Brice’s face, now.

“No.” she whispered.

“Come on, I don’t believe you.” Sasha moved closer still, trying to tempt Brice, wanting to know if, in fact, she was telling the truth. The romantic, fantastical side of her wanted to believe these giant claims of vampirism, but the logical side fought strongly, and loudly against such rubbish.

She had started the haunted house three years ago, that same romantic side of her causing her to create what she could only fantasize about. The macabre, the dark side of life, always sure to add a vampire to her set, obsessed with the stories since she’d been a child.

Brice stared at this beauty before her, and she felt more alive than she had since she was alive.

“Alright.” She said, taking a step closer to Sasha. Brice felt her fangs descend as she realized she was hungry for this woman. Though she didn’t necessarily want her blood, apparently her body didn’t know the difference between one hunger and the next.

She reached out and placed her hand of the back of Sasha’s neck, drawing her toward the vampire. Brice had no intension of puncturing her skin, but she’d give her the feel of the fangs.

Sasha moaned quietly as the small pin-prick trailed along the tender skin of her neck, the gentle touch of Brice’s fingers on her arm holding her steady. The blonde tilted her head back further, feeling her body respond.

Whether Brice was a loon and full of shit, the blonde couldn’t deny how she made her feel. A hand reached out, gripping the leather on Brice’s arm, and squeezing as the teeth made her entire body tingle.

Brice brought her hand up Sasha’s arm to the side of the blonde’s neck, feeling the soft, warm skin beneath her fingers. It was times like this that she wished her own skin was warm all the time, and didn’t require conscious thought from her. She usually didn’t bother, no one coming within close enough contact with her to feel how cold she was. But, at will she could send the stolen blood coursing through her body, warming the long-dead flesh to feel alive again.

The vampire was pulled back into reality when she heard the slight gasp from beneath her. She panicked when she felt the warmth spread through her mouth, the sweet taste of Sasha’s blood swallowed down her throat.

She took a step back, looking at the blonde, eyes still closed, her own eyes wide with fear and regret.

Brice closed her eyes, and turned, feeling the wind on her face as she used stealth and speed, fleeing before anything else happened.

Feeling suddenly like she was alone, unsettled, Sasha opened her eyes, shocked to indeed find herself with only the company of the night.

She turned in a circle, looking for a retreating figure in black, but saw no one. Not even the three fallen bullies.

“Did I dream that?” she asked herself, blonde brows drawing in confusion. She felt a slight bit of coldness on the side of her neck as a light breeze stirred up the night. She looked at her fingertips, turned black in the darkness. “Oh, god,” she breathed.

> : }{ : <
Brice sat in the SUV, the garage light blaring into the wide expanse of the windshield, her head pounding as the fresh blood soared through her system.

“Too close.” She breathed. “Far too close. I’ve got to fix it.”

> : }{ : <
Sasha sat in her office, her day job at the bank not keeping her interest today. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had happened the night before. Well, at least after the whole Harry, Brice incident, which she couldn’t explain no matter how hard she tried.

When she’d gotten into the apartment, she’d gone straight to the bathroom to look at her neck. Sure enough, there was a small bit of blood, smeared from her own wandering fingers. Once she’d gotten it cleaned off, she had found two small puncture holes. It almost looked like it was from a spider bite, though she knew it hadn’t been any spider.

As she had slept, she had had the most wonderful dream. A dream lover had stolen inside her bedroom, the tall, dark figure coming to her bed, and taking her in strong, capable arms.

The dream lover had begun to kiss her neck, laying gentle kisses across the soft, warm skin, and even across her face, avoiding her mouth, and returning to the neck. Soft licks, wet and making her moan, lavished upon her while strong hands had caressed her skin. The hands had moved up and down her arms and across her stomach, moving up to just under her breasts.

When Sasha had reached up to touch the figure, her hands had been gently laid at her sides, and she had fallen into a much deeper, peaceful sleep, waking the next morning to feel refreshed and happy.

The loan officer reached up, touching her neck, fingers gliding over where the small wounds had been, knowing there was nothing there now. Had she lost her mind? Had she dreamt the entire encounter in the apartment complex parking lot?

But, oh how she had loved that dream.

> : }{ : <
Brice reclined back in her office chair, hands raised above her head, a satisfied smile pasted to her lips. Mmmm, how she had enjoyed last night. Gone to Sasha’s only to erase the evidence with a small, healing lick, and hadn’t been able to help herself. All that inviting beauty, all that incredible flesh just waiting to be tasted.

She sighed.

> : }{ : <
Interestingly enough, the carpenter for the Five Points Haunted House had come back to work a changed man. He whistled as he worked on the backgrounds and flats, tossing a friendly “How you doing?” to his boss whenever he saw her.

Brice worked diligently on the house, wanting it to be perfect for her the blonde, and wanting Sasha to be happy with her work. She spent long hours at the house, doing back-breaking work in mere minutes, loving the look of amazement on the blonde’s beautiful face at her dedication.

Sasha looked at Brice strangely, not sure what she thought was reality, and knew was dream. Every night her dream lover had visited her, usually with more of the same; soft kisses and licks to her neck and face, sometimes sucking at the tender flesh at the hollow of her throat. She always enjoyed it, wrapping her fingers into thick, long hair, feeling its strands tickle her skin as her lover’s mouth moved further down her neck.

The blonde would arch her body up, hoping that her lover would get the hint, and move further down.

She sat at her desk at the house, a smile on her face as the reports for costs sat ignored and forgotten on the table in front of her. She was thinking about last night’s visit:

She lay in her bed, wrapped in a satin sheet and comforter, clothed only in a simple tank top and panties. As she lay there, wrapped in a peaceful slumber, she felt the presence invading her every sense.

She rolled over onto her back, eyes still closed as she felt her dream lover enter the room, felt the gentle hands she had come to crave, touch her body.

“So beautiful,” was whispered, and she smiled, even in her sleep. “So, so beautiful, my Sasha.”

“Yours,” the blonde had moaned thickly, feeling the covers pulled away from her body, the chill, October night not daring to touch her skin as the warmth of her lover covered her own. She moaned at the wanted contact, wanting for the figure to take a little more of her each night. This was the boldest so far.

The figure laid a long body out on top of her own, the weight welcome and wonderful as Sasha’s head turned to the side to allow the lips and tongue she knew was waiting, to take what it wanted. To consume her flesh, and turn her to a puddle of trembling goo.

“So wonderful,” she whispered to her lover as she felt that mouth trail over her jugular, moving up to an earlobe, tongue flicking out to taste, easing a soft whimper out of the blonde as she felt her right breast being covered by a large, strong hand. “Yesssss,” she hissed, arching her body into the touch, feeling as the hand kneaded her flesh, her nipple rising to meet the palm, pushing at the constraint of the fabric of her shirt. Oh, how she wanted to be free of the clothing.

The mouth moved along her jaw, finally coming to meet her own for the first time. She sucked in a surprised breath when she felt the slight prick of canines, and then sighed as she ran her tongue along a sharp point, then reaching inside to find a soft, wet tongue that quickly met her own, and caressed it. She felt the body on top of her own begin to move against her. She reached down with hungry fingers, disappointed to find, yet again, jeans covered by a long overcoat, which covered both of them. She wanted to feel the precious gift of skin.

Maybe tomorrow night.

Her hips rose up to meet the slow fire of the body, the kiss deepening, a sigh escaping her mouth as the hand that covered her breast began to palm her rigid nipple, sending sensations shooting through her body, pooling in her panties.

Sasha sighed at the remembered sensations that had woken her up to find herself alone, eyes looking to the left to see the curtains of her bedroom window flapping in the late night breezes.

She had thrown the covers off her body, still thrumming, and gasped when she saw the open window. Quickly closing it and bolting it shut, she scampered back to her bed, tucking herself back in, chilled from the night, the memory, and the fear.

> : }{ : <
Brice felt a shiver run down her spine as she remembered last night, a guilty pleasure that surged through her. She had a hard time facing the blonde, but couldn’t stop herself. What had started as an innocent play to save the young woman’s life, had turned into a nocturnal obsession.

The haunted house was coming along nicely, and was about to open the next night. She worked hard and stayed late to ensure Sasha’s happiness with it. Nothing had been said about that night in the parking lot, and Harry certainly never say anything of what he’d had to endure. But, he was doing just exactly what Brice had ordered him to: Be nice.

Now as she put the finishing touches on a backdrop, she felt the blonde’s presence, and looked up with a smile.

“Hi.” Sasha said, her thumbs secured in her belt loops.

“Hey.” Brice stood, looking down at her boss. If she could still blush, she would, knowing just what the blonde looked like underneath those clothes. Well, for the most part.

“It looks great.” Sasha said, nodding toward the backdrop.

“Oh, thanks. Almost time, huh?” Brice crossed her arms over her tee-shirt clad chest.

“Yeah.” Sasha smiled. “I love opening night. I think this year we’ll knock ‘em dead.” They stood there in silence for a moment, neither sure what to say, and both caught in her own thoughts. Sasha was suspecting that what she had thought happened in her parking lot actually had. Harry’s overly nice behavior, and absolute insistence on being helpful had been eating at her, knowing full well that the large man had never been so nice before.

And it was just a feeling. Something wasn’t right, though it wasn’t necessarily wrong, either. Just… odd.

Finally gathering her courage, knowing that it could be taken several ways, she looked up at the brunette with honest, clear green eyes.

“Thank you, Brice.” She said softly. The taller woman looked at her for a moment, studying her face, then nodded.

“You’re welcome.” She answered just as softly. Knowing now that she hadn’t been imagining things, and that what had happened had indeed happened, she felt better. But then Brice’s confession bounced around her mind. Her eyes were drawn to the other woman’s mouth, wanting so badly to see the evidence waiting for her there. But, all she found were full lips smiling at her, and amused, though slightly frightened, blue eyes looking back into her own.

She turned, and walked away.

> : }{ : <
Opening night of the haunted house went off without a hitch, everyone in their place, and all the props holding up to scare even more people than last year.

Brice was loving her job as a vampire, finally able to make her curse pay off. The shrieks of terror filled her and made her smile, glad that they were just out of theatrical fear, and not life-threatening.

She barely recognized Sasha as she wondered around the place as a tour-guide, dressed as the ghost of a murdered woman. Her normally bright green eyes dulled with contacts to a creepy gray, her skin taking on the same pallor. The white dress she wore, torn in places and shredded in others, told of the horrors she’d faced on her final night.

It was incredibly disconcerting for Brice, really. She knew what really did lurk and walk the earth, and thought that the blonde was far too convincing.

The weekend’s take was good, and Sasha was immensely proud of her cast and crew, paying them well, and allowing the celebration after the final closing to go far into the night.

Brice kept her eyes on the house owner, watching her, glad to see a smile grace those ghostly lips. At one point, dead, gray eyes met baby blue, and held. The blonde seemed to give her a hidden, knowing smile, and for a moment Brice was worried that Sasha had figured out more than just the mere fact that she was a vampire.

Still the party roared on.

> : }{ : <
Sasha began to pick up after the party, most of the cast already gone. She was sad to find Brice already gone, too. She had planned to ask the taller woman out to breakfast, but had lost her chance. She knew nothing about her, nor where to find her.

With a sigh, she put the last bag of trash in the dumpster, and headed home, weary and tired of wearing all the make-up and the contact lenses were giving her a headache.

Once at home, she showered, letting the hot water soothe her aching body, and wash away a busy weekend and month of hard work. Finally turning off the faucet, she padded off to the bedroom, only a towel wrapped around her body.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she noticed the figure standing in front of the open window, the long, black coat flowing in the incoming breeze.

“Oh my god, you scared me.” She put her hand to her chest, then stared, wide-eyed, realizing that not only was she not afraid, but wasn’t sleeping, either. “My dream lover,” she breathed.

The figure said nothing, just took a step forward, the beautiful, angular face moving into the moonlight, lowered, blue eyes lifting to rest on her own.

“It’s you,” Sasha said, stepping forward, almost as if drawn to the tall woman, but coming to stop a few feet shy of the woman.

“I’m not sure what I’m doing here,” Brice admitted. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“I looked for you after the party. You’d left.” The brunette nodded, and Sasha could feel her heart beating wildly, almost afraid she’d have a heart attack.

“Yes. I left to walk out of your life. I’m dangerous for you, yet here I am. Again.”

Sasha, making up her mind, and feeling that eternal pull all the stronger, took a step forward, pausing when the brunette winced at her advance, feeling a wave of sadness wash off the beautiful woman. She wanted so badly to alleviate it and replace it with the pleasure and happiness that she had been given.

“You came to me,” she said, a statement of fact as she moved even closer, her hands reaching out to touch the rough material of the overcoat. Brice only looked down at her, that same fear in her eyes. “What are you afraid of?” the blonde asked, running her hands up over the front to the shoulders, then to the collar of the jacket, running her fingers down along the lapels.

“You.” Came the quiet answer.

“Why? Isn’t that a little backwards?” strong fingers grabbed the material, and pushed, the arms lengthening as they were pushed down the arms inside.

“Yes. But true all the same. Aren’t you afraid of me?” Brice’s voice was dry, almost brittle.

“Why should I be?” Sasha asked, looking up into the face of her dreams. The coat came off, and she tossed it to the arm of the chair in the shadowed corner of the room. She looked at the Henley before her, tucked into button-fly Levis.

“Because I’m not normal.”

“What’s normal, Brice?” the blonde asked, running her hands down along strong arms encased in the tight, ribbed material until she reached hands, warm and soft. “You’re usually so cold,” she whispered, taking the hands in her own.

“Not tonight.” Brice whispered, squeezing the fingers within her own. “Not tonight.”

Sasha reached up, closing her eyes as she did until her lips met with those of her dream lover, come to visit in the dark of reality.

The lips were stiff for just a moment, then began to move with her own, becoming soft and pliant. She tugged gently on the hands, easing the taller body forward as she moved backward, the backs of her thighs coming into contact with the mattress of her bed.

She broke the kiss, and looked up into Brice’s face. She brought her hands up to the knot of her towel, and carefully slipped it free, letting the two ends of the terry cloth slip open before falling to the floor with a soft PLOP at her feet. Blue eyes looked down, taking in what was revealed.

“Make love to me, Brice.” The blonde whispered. She took hold of the stunned woman’s hands, and placed them on her breasts, moaning at the contact as she found the brunette’s mouth again.

Brice, knocked from her dazed reverie, felt the soft skin beneath her hands, and began to knead the flesh, feeling the nipples harden under her touch.

She closed her eyes as the kiss deepened, and all that could be heard were their quiet moans and their harsh breathing as passions began to ignite. The blonde’s fingers moved to the Henley, and pulled it from its confines in the jeans, then tugged at the fly, pulling each button free before reaching harried hands inside, pushing the material down.

Brice broke the kiss, taking a small step back as she raised the Henley over her head, tossing it behind her into the darkness, and looked down as impatient hands found the snap to her bra at her back, snapping each hook, loosening the garment, making her shiver as the soft satin brushed against highly sensitized skin.

Stepping out of the pants that were pooled around her ankles, she quickly pulled her boots off, and tugged at her panties, eager to feel the warm expanse beneath her own. Sasha had already moved to the bed, scooting herself back until she laid against the pillows, looking at her with beckoning eyes.

Brice climbed up onto the bed, crawling her way over to the blonde, and easing her body down on top of Sasha’s, bathing in the near steam that radiated off their bodies.

Sasha moaned, her hands immediately finding Brice’s back, digging into the flesh as she found a hungry mouth, once again, running her tongue over the sharp points that were beginning to drop into place.

“Hungry?” she teased breathlessly as she broke the kiss. Brice gave her a carnal smile.

“You have no idea,” she growled, pressing herself against the body beneath her, pressing her thigh between Sasha’s, making the banker groan, head falling back into the pillows as she raised the outside leg to get more contact where she needed it the most.

Their bodies moved together as they continued to kiss, Brice leaving Sasha’s mouth to find her neck and moving down even further. Sasha moaned, waiting for days for her dream lover to find more of her.

As Brice took a nipple into her mouth, she grazed the very tip of a fang over the hard flesh, shivering at the response that won her. She had to be careful, but if used right, she could give great pleasure with her gifts and curse.

Sasha sucked in a breath as she felt her skin grazed, tasted and nibbled, her entire being on fire. There wasn’t a patch of skin that wasn’t explored and given equal attention. Hissing between bared teeth as she felt her thighs opened further, long, thick, dark hair tickling them as she licked, probed and sucked.

She reached her hands down, pushing Brice further into her, wanting that tongue just a little deeper, or sucked just a little harder or longer, her body writhing on the sheets, her body beginning to tremble.

Brice moaned her pleasure as she tasted Sasha, running her tongue over soft folds and swollen, heated parts, using just the tip of her tongue to flick and tease, then to enter and devour.

She inhaled her lover, memorizing her scent and need, finally watching with satisfaction as Sasha’s body convulsed, back arching as wave after wave of pleasure overtook the blonde, leaving her heaving for breath, and begging for mercy.

Brice crawled up Sasha’s body, smiling in pure ecstasy as she watched the blonde try and get her breathing and body under control, breasts heaving, pools of sweat glistening in the moonlight. Finally she reached parted, dry lips, a tongue flickering out to moisten them, a tongue that was met with another, and drawn inside a warm mouth.

Sasha brought her hands up, burying them in Brice’s hair, pulling the longer body down onto her own, sighing at the contact, as if it was the first one.

She used all her might and heaved their bodies over, rolling on top of Brice, fitting her breasts against the soft pillow of the other woman’s. She hips beneath hers began to move in slow circles, causing Sasha to press hers to them, moving with them, smiling at the slow, long groan that produced.

She felt large hands reaching down to cover her ass, fingers pressing into the skin, making ten identical shadows along the roundness.

Sasha left Brice’s mouth and began to wonder over the other woman’s neck for a change, wanting to taste and experience what seemed to draw Brice.

“Where do you usually bite?” she asked into the skin. “Am I close?” she felt the nod, and then a hand covering the back of her head, moving her slightly over to the right, just under the curve of the mandible. “Mmmm,” she moaned into the skin, and bared her teeth, daring to nip. Brice hissed through her teeth, her body arching up into the smaller one.

Sasha brought her hand down a long, lean body, feeling the planes of textile bliss as curious fingers sought out answers, finally finding them in the course hair beneath her own hips. She threaded her fingers through the wiriness, liking the sounds and motions that caused.

As she continued to play with the skin at Brice’s collar bone, tasting the hollow of her throat, and moving further, her fingers danced in liquid and soft skin, parting the uncharted territory, seeing what treasures lie beneath its secrets.

She felt the hardness and softness, all in one touch, sighing deeply as she stroked, feeling the body attached begin to move in time with her fingers. Her lips settled around a pebbled nipple, using her tongue to push against it as her fingers pushed against unyielding skin of another kind.

Brice’s eyes were closed, her neck arched as the blonde explored her body with hands and tongue, taking her to places that she no longer thought existed for her. For just a moment she felt human again.

She clutched the sheets at her sides, allowing Sasha to do as she would, molding her body to any shape or state with just the simplest lick. She sucked in a breath as she felt a finger enter her, something that hadn’t been done in too many years to try and figure out right now.

Her body relaxed into the invader, muscles tightening and relaxing as the one finger, followed by a second, was slowly pumped in and out of her body, a relentless tongue following an unknown path down her body, leaving no area unknown explored or ignored.

Her brain rattled in her head, no thought coherent as she was laved slow and deliberately.

Sasha could tell that Brice was close, her body nearly too much for her to control as deep breaths were taken, ragged and sharp, hips thrusting into the air, leaving her to feel like she were trying to tame a wild bronco.

“Yes, baby,” she whispered into the night, encouraging her lover to give her the gift she fought so hard for. “Yes,”

Through the haze of pleasure, Brice heard the soft words, and felt herself spill into Sasha’s hands, and fill her completely, becoming empty herself.

Brice’s near hoarse voice cried out, echoing off the walls as her body let go, propelling her from her living hell to a heaven where Sasha’s touch was her god. Pleasure swept through her body, shooting out of every available space as she grabbed onto the smaller woman, pulling her into a desperate embrace, holding on to her, her body pulsing against her.

“Oh my god,” she breathed.

“Shhh. I’m here, baby.” Sasha whispered against a cold mouth, tongue frozen from the constant sucking in of cool air. She warmed that tongue, stroking Brice with comforting hands, laying her head on the still heaving chest.

“Don’t lay there,” Brice managed finally.

“Why?” green eyes looked into clearing blue.

“I have no heartbeat to comfort you.” Brice looked a little sheepish. Sasha smiled.

“Sure you do.” She whispered. “I felt it. You are very much alive.”

Brice smiled, pulling the smaller woman closer.

“I am now.” She whispered into the blonde hair. “I am now.”



The End.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s