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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Long Fall 3 by Rachael Ross (Mm/F, Fantasy, Vampire, Nun, Violent, Caution)
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Date: Fri, 22 Jun 2007 01:10:01 -0400
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The Long Fall to Forever

Copyright 2007 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults
only.
Story Codes: M/F, Fantasy, Vampire, Nun, Violent, Caution
Note: You need to read chapters 1 and 2 before reading this chapter.

The Long Fall to Forever - Chapter 3
by rache



"Yes?" The old man's voice was soft and tired, he'd been asleep.

I'd found him in his apartments at the Vatican, which had surprised
me, but not so greatly as news of the Pope's death. The Cardinal's
secretary in Washington had told me and he'd been obviously upset by
it, as I should have been, but I felt nothing and that was disturbing
in itself.

"I'm in." I said softly. Perhaps Michel would hear me, perhaps not.

I was alone in his study while he occupied himself with a young girl
in his bed. I'd undressed and washed myself, understanding the
psychology of it, the Catholicism of my cleansing, but unwilling to
resist it. Michel had found it amusing in any event; he felt nothing
for the loss of Paschal.

"You survived?" He was waking up quickly and he spoke quickly,
ignoring the stupidity of his question. "Where are you?"

"San Francisco, with Michel." I licked my lips, glancing at the open
door. "Command me, Eminence."

"Does he suspect anything?" Cardinal Beschi's voice was greedy.

"Of course." I smiled into the phone. "He's not a fool, but he loves
me."

"Kill him." The Cardinal was smiling as well and I'd anticipated
this.

It was not only revenge for the old man, it was a test, a very real
one. He couldn't trust me now, not until he saw the proof. He was so
much like Michel.

"I'm still weak." I told him truthfully. "I might fail."

"We can't have that."

"He'll be here later, Michel isn't going anywhere." I offered.

I didn't want to kill Michel. I felt an attachment that I couldn't
explain, and I dared not mention it, but the old man would suspect it.
He knew as much about vampires as I did. And he knew me very well
indeed. He'd created me, as much as Michel had.

"Lazarus is in New York." Beschi said after a moment's silence while
he considered me. He was trying to decide about me, but it was too
late for that and he was beginning to realize it.

"We still have the two in Sacramento." I reminded him.

"If you can kill Lazarus, it won't matter."

And that was the ultimate reason for all of this, for all the plots
and deceptions, just so I could kill one woman. One very special
woman. Unlikely as it sounds to the lay person, the Lazarus that Jesus
had raised from the dead two thousand years ago was still very much
alive. Perhaps stranger than that was the fact that Lazarus was a
woman, not a man as the bible suggests. But history has often been
rewritten, for a variety of reasons, and that particular document far
more than most.

"I need to gather my strength." I told him honestly. "I have...
abilities..."

"I'm sure you do." He chuckled softly.

"...I need to understand them." I secretly doubted that I would be able
to kill Lazarus, but that was unimportant. "I need practice. The two
in Sacramento are weak."

"Go then." Beschi agreed finally. "When you're finished, return to me.
I want to see you."

"Yes, Your Eminence." I agreed.

"I've sent Father Jude with a Dagger of Aunnas to New York." He told
me.

"I see." I frowned at that. Lazarus would kill the priest, and he was
no more than a child. Jude been one of my students not so long before.

I sensed Michel's presence and I hung up the phone without another
word.

"What did he say?" Michel was standing there, naked and covered with
blood, as if he'd bathed in the girl, more than supped from her life.

"The Pope is dead."

Michel said nothing and appeared unaffected by the news, as he
should've been I supposed. I'd wanted to bring it up with the
Cardinal, but it was hardly my place to do so. He would be engaged
with the Sacred College, selecting a new one. The Holy See could
perhaps even fall to him, a thought I entertained only briefly.

"He doesn't trust me." I shrugged.

"Quite a dilemma, I suppose." His penis was thick and hard, jutting
out and dropping blood. "Beschi finally has what he always wanted,
but..."

"He wants me to kill you." I stared at the vampire, beautiful in his
true form.

He seemed larger somehow, his body supple and lean with muscle.
Michel's hair was like a wild mane, falling over his shoulders and his
eyes were lit with crimson flames, his fingers claw-like, with long
black nails, talons really. When he opened his mouth I could see his
distended fangs, curved and oddly shaped, the inner edge sharp as a
scalpel, the outer round and smooth with needle tips.

Just seeing him like that, smelling the fresh blood still wet on his
flesh, it brought the change in me. It was irresistible; even if I'd
wanted to avoid it, I couldn't. I flexed my own hands, feeling the
strength in my body, the hunger in my belly. I tilted my head,
growling softly as my teeth grew sharp and long. My skin took on a
translucence; becoming so pale that I could see my veins beneath my
skin and my sex burned. It was sexual, the hunger and desire
indistinguishable.

"I shall have to watch you carefully then." Michel smiled and he
didn't fear me. I was his creature now, he would never have to fear
me. I loved him.

I stepped into a shadow and I was behind him, my arms around Michel's
waist, pressing my naked breasts to his back and licking at the soft
skin just below his ear. I could have taken him then and I sensed the
old vampire's surprise. It was perhaps the first time in his long
memory that he'd been caught unprepared and vulnerable.

"You'll have to watch me closer than that, my love." I kissed his
cheek.

I was learning quickly and Michel would soon realize that I was
something beyond his experience, a creature unlike any vampire that
had ever come before me. He wouldn't underestimate me for long, and
perhaps I should have done as the Cardinal wished, but it was not my
wish and I was ever selfish that way.

"So I see." Michel said a moment later, after I'd worked my tongue
deeply into his mouth. "I have something for you, come...You need to
feed."

In his bed lay the corpse of the girl upon which he'd feasted so
recently. He'd opened her chest, exposing her young heart and he'd fed
from it directly. From the amount of blood spilled however, it seemed
Michel had been playing with her more than drinking. It seemed a
senseless cruelty, but I felt nothing ill towards the idea of what
Michel had done. It had been their affair, not mine.

Near the girl, huddled naked on the bed was a boy, perhaps fifteen or
sixteen, looking very much like the dead girl's sibling, which
surprised me not at all. They were both dark, with thick black hair
and delicate features. The girl had been beautiful once, the boy more
handsome than pretty, and he was terrified.

His fear filled the room. Even more than the blood, I could smell it.
Like ozone before a thunderstorm, it was electric and almost metallic
and I wondered if I was merely imagining it, but I suspected my
newfound senses were becoming more attuned to the world. I pushed out
my tongue, testing the sapid air while Michel smiled at me, enjoying
my discoveries. I tasted human blood and sweat, and the musk of
Michel's arousal, mixed with my own.

Saliva filled my mouth and I flew at the boy, there is no other word
for it. The hunger was upon me. I was weak, famished from the Turning,
from the hunt of Paschal, and now it was loosed. If I'd had a real
choice I might have tried to comfort the child, if only to test my
abilities to influence the human mind and emotions, but there was no
time for that.

My body demanded blood and it would have been a pleasure to fuck him
while I fed, my sex was trembling for fulfillment. Michel would see to
that need, however, and I spent my energy cradling the boy in my
strong arms, bending his delicate neck to my teeth, and murdering him.

I groaned as Michel entered me from behind, his hands on my hips,
lifting my ass for his cock. It was sticky with the girl's drying
blood, but I was wet already, incredibly so, and he entered me
easily.

The boy's blood had come quickly at first, from his torn artery which
I'd made a mess of in my haste. I'd severed it, rather than merely
holed it, and so the child's life had poured out of him faster than I
could drink it. Blood ran down my neck and his, the smell of it making
the air seem heavy and humid, even tropical as my body flushed hot and
pink with new life.

And Michel was in my cunt, fucking me slowly now, relaxing as if to
mimic the slowing of the boy's heart beneath us. He moved gently
within me and it was a great pleasure, bringing me to an orgasm
enriched with the predatorial joy of killing and feeding. There was a
completeness there which I struggled to understand, but only weakly at
that moment. The connection between sex and death, it had always
fascinated me as an observer, and now as a participant.

"He's done..." I breathed, licking my lips and moving slowly.

I lay between the two corpses, brother and sister, in the center of
that great and ancient bed soaked in blood. Michel pushed my long legs
high for him, so that I was bent over his shoulders and helpless
beneath his weight. I was his completely then, open and vulnerable and
I clawed at his back as he plunged his cock into the depths of my sex,
penetrating me as deeply as he could, so that I felt him pressing the
very entrance to my barren womb.

We spoke not at all, but only stared at each other, our features
magnificent and evil, with cruel smiles and malicious burning eyes. We
were making love then, not just fucking for our pleasure, but binding
ourselves together and I understood that, I welcomed it as a betrayal.
The Cardinal would never understand what he'd brokered when he'd
lifted me from obscurity to this.

It seemed very possible that the old man had orchestrated his own
destruction if he wasn't careful, because Michel himself would attempt
to set me upon the old man. I'd deny him, of course, because I was
walking a razor's edge, playing the church against that loose
community of vampires. I still had my faith, but I had love as well,
and I wasn't so blind not to see that eventually I would betray one of
them for the other.

But that was in the future and the outcome unpredictable.

Here and now I was being mated, as I finally began to understand the
true meaning of the term. It was something Michel had been unable to
share with Paschal, and perhaps with any of his previous lovers. He'd
been waiting for me, expecting me, since before our first meeting so
many years before, and I wondered that he hadn't taken me at his first
opportunity.

It mattered not at all, however, and I was lost to such thoughts while
we made love. My slippery sex embraced him eagerly, clasping herself
around Michel's penis and squeezing him. I wanted to keep him inside
me so long as possible. I was filled with him and it made me complete.
The world could turn without us, I promised him, pulling his mouth to
mine finally.

He was close to cumming and I'd been having small orgasms since we'd
begun. I wanted him to hold off, begged him with my eyes and lips to
save himself for later, to fuck me for all eternity. I should never
tire of it, I thought, the sensation of being taken so easily, so
totally. And when he did cum at last, his turgid cock releasing his
seed in a series of violent spasms, it was a bittersweet defeat for us
both I think.

Michel collapsed upon me, sighing and damp with perspiration. My
breasts were heaving beneath him, and I stroked his smooth skin and
soft hair, kissing him, loving him as I'd never done for a man before
in my life. It had taken my own death to bring me passionate love and
the irony of loving my own murderer made me smile. That was the
fundamental aspect of our nature. We destroy that which we love, and
love what we have become.

We were joined now, Michel and I, mated for life. Mated for death.
Mated forever.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Sunlight made me weak. I could feel it through the stone walls,
sapping my energy, stealing my powers. I did not understand the
phenomenon, nor could I see any reason for it as I was protected
physically. There were no windows, no doors. Yet still I could feel
the awful truth of it, the light of day was my enemy and I'd nevermore
enjoy the sun's warmth upon my face.

Michel was already asleep, deep in his lair, but I'd had little choice
except to remain awake. I needed information and for that I needed my
friends at Quantico. So far as the rest of the world was concerned,
with the exception of Cardinal Beschi, I was still human, still Sister
Ellen...The rather unorthodox and oddly brilliant college professor. I
would maintain that façade so long as possible and to that end I also
needed to speak with my grad students, and the University President.
The church would endorse a leave of absence, one from which I would
never return.

"Where are you?" Phil Sweeny asked me, my old friend the FBI profiler.

"San Francisco, something came up." I sighed.

"You sound tired." He said, and there was concern in his voice.

"Long night." I forced myself to laugh softly. "So, what's new?
Anything?"

"Well, we haven't found our subjects yet, but they're still in
Sacramento."

"Oh?" I rubbed my eyes. "That seems odd."

I hadn't meant to say that. If they were human it wasn't odd at all,
considering the younger one must be injured, having been shot. I knew
they were vampires, though, and in that sense they should have been
gone already. The girl would heal quickly, well enough to travel after
only a day, or two at the most. Thankfully Phil let my observation
pass unnoticed.

"Two new bodies." Phil told me. "We found them two days ago, but the
lab work took some time. Definitely our girls."

"Where?" I sat down at Michel's desk, opening drawers and looking for
a cigarette, not for the nicotine, but merely because I was used to
having one when I talked to Quantico about a case.

"A flop house downtown, about a mile from the first murders. Two
males, the guy who was living there, one John Lawler. He seems to have
no connection, a long time resident, the down on his luck sort."

Which was a nice way of saying the man had been a bum.

"And the other?" I asked.

"A doctor, a real one. Mason Price, he was supposed to be working the
emergency room at County General. Apparently he just walked out in the
middle of his shift. Left his clothes, his wallet, his car, everything
at the hospital and then he turns up dead in Lawler's apartment."

"COD?" But I already knew.

"Blood loss through wounds in the neck and throat consistent with
bites. Forensics say they match the cop in the car, so..."

"He was playing doctor for the perps?"

"Looks that way, his tools were there; his little black bag. They
found bullet fragments on a plate, ballistics gives it about a 90
percent chance they came out of the female cop's gun."

"So they kidnap a doc, bring him to the apartment and nobody sees a
thing." I smacked my lips.

"You got it." Phil chuckled. "They have cameras at the hospital too, 6
of them covering the emergency room, inside and out, not a sign of
anyone matching our girls."

"Nothing?" I asked. "What about the doc?"

"We got him just fine, he just strolls out like he's off for a
Starbucks." Phil sighed. "Shit, Ellen, it's just weird."

"Prints? Anything there?"

"Nope. We have prints, but nothing on file."

"If he was doing surgery, I guess that explains why they're still in
town." I felt so tired and I had everything I needed to know.

"Well, local PD is canvassing the neighborhoods now. After finding the
doctor they're going door to door, but it's a big town."

"What's your profile say?"

"Same as yours did." He laughed. "Females involved with at least one
other suspect, probably male. Cultists of some kind, playing vampire
games looks like. We have no pattern as yet, except the vic on the
roof and the one in Oregon, all the others seem to be random, victims
of circumstance."

"Yeah." I yawned. "I need to get some sleep. I'll be in Sacramento
tonight, look around a little. I can get the files, right?"

"No problem, I already sent them your clearance."

"Thanks, Phil." I listened to his goodbye and hung up the phone,
wanting to call my office, but I was so tired.

I made my way into the bedroom, a different one than we'd used to feed
on the boy and girl, and I slipped under the sheets to press my body
against Michel's. He was vulnerable again, I thought with a smile,
stroking his cool flesh and within a few seconds it seemed I was in a
sleep deeper than any living human would ever know.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Shit." I was holding a compact mirror and a lipstick. "I can't see
myself. How am I supposed to put on makeup?"

"It's very simple." Michel smiled at me, he was dressing slowly. "You
do not need makeup, Elle, you're already beautiful."

"And would you please explain to me why I can't see my reflection?" I
closed my mirror with a frustrated snap.

"Again, too simple." He moved to me, taking my shoulders in his hands
and kissing my forehead.

"Well?" I was sitting on the bed and I looked up at him.

"Magic." He chuckled.

"Great." I pursed my lips. I liked wearing makeup.

"You do not complain about the other things." He laughed at me. "So
why this?"

"Because it's dumb." I shrugged. "There's no reason for it."

I began dressing slowly, finding new clothes, not my own, but fresh
and attractive and much as I might have chosen for myself. If I were
going to a BDSM costume drama. Michel had servants, slaves of a sort,
but they were functionaries and remained hidden so much as it was
possible. I didn't know who, or what they were, and I hadn't asked him
about them.

They'd disposed of the bodies, cleaned the bedroom that we'd bloodied
the night previously, and arranged to have me clothed, doubtlessly by
Michel's explicit instruction. It was immediately clear to me that it
would be very difficult for a vampire to survive without dedicated
mortals to assist him, or her.

"Perhaps the mirror reflects the world only." He smiled patiently.
"And we are no longer a part of it."

"What are we a part of then?" I was pulling up silk stockings, black
and rich, old fashioned the way they should be so that I attached them
to the black garter belt I wore around my narrow waist.

"I don't know." Michel shrugged, leaning against the wall in his
charcoal suit, tailored and expensive. "Hell perhaps. Heaven. Does it
matter?"

I shook my head, bending over at the waist, presenting him with a view
of my closed sex and firm ass. I ran my hands slowly up my legs,
ensuring my stockings were straight, feeling the seam from my heels to
my thighs and teasing him that way.

He wanted me, but made no effort to take me and I continued to dress.
Pulling a thin black panty on over the narrow suspenders, smoothing
the sheer lace against my sex briefly. I had a separate skirt and
blouse, which I preferred and Michel had either known that somehow, or
simply made a fortunate choice in the matter.

The skirt was tight and long, made of supple black leather, and slit
along the left side. The blouse was more of a top really, red and
tight around my breasts, exposing my taut stomach and waist. It was
made of leather as well, soft and buttery beneath my fingers and it
smelled of the pigments used to color it. A lacquer I thought,
Dragon's Blood perhaps. It fit me closely, pushing my breasts together
and upward enticingly, the back laced like a corset, and with the
skirt I was transformed into a fetishist's wet dream.

"Tie me?" I offered Michel my back, so that he could draw the leather
cords tight.

"Of course." He moved deliberately. "Le rouge et le noir, it speaks of
you"

"Does it?" I smile. "I think you merely enjoy the corruption."

"Are you still a nun, Sister?" He was teasing and I stood straight,
grunting softly as Michel drew my postern bodice tight.

"Of course."

"And what is your order?" He kissed my neck. "I am shocked to find I
have never wondered."

"It is unimportant." I drew a breath, feeling my trapped breasts
warming beneath the leather. "Ursuline"

"Of course." Michel had finished and he turned me to face him. "A
teacher."

"I must go." I stood there close to him, looking up slightly into his
face.

"You can stay." He told me bluntly. "You are dead, Ellen. Your
obligations are finished, you should leave them."

"They are mine, Michel." I combed my hair with my fingers, delaying
myself as long as possible. It was still early, just an hour after
sunset.

"And you are mine." The old vampire stared into my eyes and I nodded.

"I am yours."

"Then I should let you go." He sighed. "Be wary of the woman, she's no
fool. She'll protect what's most precious to her."

"And what's that?" I asked, but he was already gone.

I knew the answer anyway, it was the girl. Everything that had
happened would be caused by the younger of the two vampires, and in
this instance it was the child. The woman was trying to fix it, to
keep them safe for the few days it would take for her young lover to
heal...A thought that nagged me. The girl should be healed already, so
what were they doing? They were up to six bodies now though, and I was
sure more would turn up. It seemed inevitable given recent events, the
pattern established. Every sequence has a pattern, even if it isn't
immediately clear.

Sweeny and his colleagues at the FBI couldn't see any of that, of
course, but they weren't looking for real vampires either. Part of my
unfinished obligations was to ensure that they never would. Evidence
would have to be lost, some files removed, perhaps even more than
that. I'd killed innocents before to protect the great secret, but now
I was a part of that secret.

I only briefly considered what data I had, knowing it was incomplete,
while I drove to Sacramento. It would be a long one, several hours at
least, given the pain of exiting the Bay Area and its traffic, but I
was comfortable at least. Michel had given me the use of a large Audi
sedan, smooth and quiet and eminently practical as I had much to think
about.

The two vampires ahead of me were the least of my concerns just then,
of far more importance was Cardinal Beschi, my nominal Master and the
man I'd served all of my adult life. I had to find a way to appease
him, without killing Michel. I hoped that ending the threat in
Sacramento would accomplish that, but I couldn't be sure.

He'd wanted a vampire of his own, for a variety of reasons, but the
greatest of which was largely due to an obscure passage in the Book of
Kells, from eighth century Ireland. In it is suggested the possibility
that only one who is neither alive, nor dead, but separate from and
entwined with both, may announce the Second Coming. That had been
translated many different ways over the intervening centuries, but the
Cardinal believed it to mean that a vampire is the only creature
capable of killing Lazarus, assuming she is the key Christ's return at
all.

I didn't know if I believed that or not, personally. I'd met Lazarus
twice, and both occasions only briefly. She was irreverent and spoiled
to my mind, a waste of immortality I'd thought at the time, being all
too mortal myself then.

Lazarus cavorted with a demoness, a fallen angel named Uziel, also
known as Lilith in some texts, the Angelic Demon of Blood. Rumor had
it that they were truly lovers; others were of the opinion that
Lazarus had merely bound the demoness into a period servitude.

Either way it was clear that Uziel served her loyally, if not entirely
faithfully. Uziel was a Mistress of intrigue and seduction, according
to the information I'd gathered, and ruthless to her own purposes, but
none could say what those purposes were.

Put together Lazarus and Uziel were unpredictable and formidable, for
the Miracle enjoyed not only immortality, but her own unique abilities
as well. Spellcraft, augury, alchemy and herbalism. Lazarus was
reputed to be the most powerful witch since the Witch of Endor, a
comparison most often made because Lazarus could speak with the dead.

And I was purposed to kill her.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

That future was beyond me as I drove to Sacramento. I could feel the
vampires, the two of them, but only vaguely and only when I was close
enough to see the city lights. It was a power that was growing, but
too slowly for my needs. They'd have sensed me already, the older one
certainly, and she'd know very well my proximity and there could be
only one reason for it in her mind.

I had to assume I was being hunted, even before I stopped my car in
the oversized and largely empty parking garage of the Federal Building
in downtown Sacramento. The FBI offices were inside and I was
expected, although not me exactly. All they knew was that Sister Ellen
was coming and I was walking through the cold grey parking lot dressed
more as BDSM Domme than a Catholic nun. It would be interesting at
least, or so I hoped.

My leather heels clicked loudly on the tiles as I approached the
security station. It was very nearly midnight and the building seemed
deserted but for the two security officers, but I knew there would be
some lights burning upstairs. The FBI wasn't sleeping on this one.

The two men, one black and the other white gave me appreciative looks,
which wasn't entirely professional, but understandable. My breasts
were perched heavily in that tight, red leather top, and I was giving
them a lot of stocking and some pale thigh in the slit of my black
leather dress. I felt like a whore, actually, and perhaps that amused
me as much as anything else. In front of Michel it had seemed almost
normal, but here...

"Can I help you?" The black man said, sucking his lips slightly as he
tried to keep his big brown eyes off my tits.

"I'm Ellen Sawyer, Special Agent Jack Burnett is expecting me." I told
him patiently.

"FBI huh?" The white guy said, nodding and I smiled at him.

"I need to see some identification please, just put your purse on the
counter and walk through the magnetic detector, Ms. Sawyer." The black
guy said, making the long z sound in Ms. like he wanted to make sure I
noticed how politically correct he was.

"It's Ellen, Sister Ellen." I opened my wallet and extracted my
Georgetown Faculty ID and my federal gun permit, since they were
definitely going to find my nine millimeter and wonder.

"Sister?" Both men stared at me and the black man was looking at the
photo of me, wearing my habit and looking serious.

"You're a nun?" The white guy laughed, but it was confused and weak
and his partner shot him a look.

"I'm not that kind of a nun." I shrugged, stepping through the metal
detector and it didn't make a sound.

"I don't even want to ask." The man said, looking at his black
colleague as he held up my Beretta.

"She's on the list." The black man said, double checking my ID against
his computer and Sweeny had kept his promise, getting me access to the
FBI.

It wasn't the first time, of course. I'd been consulting with them for
more than a few years on violent crimes. The difference was that now I
was violent crime come to life, in a manner of speaking. I'd already
killed, and those people would be missing, probably forever. The boy
I'd fed on the night before, he'd come from someplace and if he wasn't
there already, he'd soon be inside the FBI's database. Just another
name. Another file that would never be closed.

I thanked the two men and they gave me smiles in return. I could feel
their eyes on my ass and hips as I walked towards the elevators with a
new visitor's badge hanging from my purse strap. There just wasn't
anyplace on my clothing to clip it.

I'd enjoyed being close to them, the way I'd always enjoyed being
around strong, good looking men. But this had been different, not just
a sexual interest, which would have been normal, I'd smelled them.
Their bodies, warm and full of life. I'd heard their hearts beating
and their lungs breathing. I wasn't particularly hungry, but part of
me wanted to feed, the part of me that would forever be insatiable in
its lust for blood.

I had controlled it easily enough though, and that made me feel better
about myself. I just wished I were able to feel those two vampires as
more than an indistinct scent on the ether. I had a direction, I
thought, but they could have been a mile away, or in the next room. I
had no way of knowing and it made me uneasy. I had little faith that
the two men downstairs would be able to stop even one of them if she
wanted to find me.

But I wasn't hiding either. I just didn't want to be surprised.

The FBI was easy to find, seventh floor, left out of the elevators and
straight down the hall. They were the only office that wasn't dark and
I pushed through the glass doors, etched with the Bureau's official
seal, and I followed my nose. There were three of them, two men and a
woman, and they looked up at me with surprise.

"Working late." I smiled at them, and it was harder to control myself
this time because the woman was ripe with her menses. It was powerful
and distracting and I needed it.

"Can I help you?" One of the men asked. He was tall and sandy haired,
older than the others with weary eyes, but handsome nonetheless. All
the FBI types were, even the women it seemed, as if there were a
requirement for physical beauty in the Bureau.

Or maybe it was the office they held, for that had long attracted me
as well. I might have been an agent, if my passions had turned a
different direction out of high school. I found the authority
pleasing.

"I'm Sister Ellen." I smiled, because I always enjoyed saying that.
"Phil Sweeny at Behavioral Sciences asked me to look at your data."

"Sister of what?" The woman murmured, but I heard her. I could hear
everything.

The man she'd spoken to was oriental, tall and fit and I'd seen him
before. Some westerners had problems remembering Asian faces, but I
had a good memory for such things. I just couldn't place him
immediately.

"Right." The older man nodded, but he didn't smile. He looked
suspicious, actually, as if someone were playing a joke on him. But he
was tired, I could see it and feel it and hear it in his voice.

So I stood there for a moment, striking a pose as it were, and none of
us said anything. I was always vain, but that didn't change the fact
that I was attractive, or I had been before Michel had turned me. Now,
afterwards, I possessed a beauty that went beyond mortal experience
and it was the blood, the woman's blood dripping from her cunt, which
was doing it.

I was loosing desire from my pores, primal pheromones perhaps,
something subliminal and irresistible to humans. I felt my teeth
growing sharp and my skin burned with the change and if I didn't will
myself to stop I would have killed them all, for no other reason than
I was a wolf and they were sheep, and it was in our natures. They were
yielding even as I stood there.

The woman, tall and dark haired, she turned her head, offering me her
neck from a dozen feet away. She was inviting me, to take her as my
own, to rape her bleeding womb with my fingers while I raped her heart
with my teeth. And the Asian, he was submissive, his eyes down at my
feet, his penis stiff in his trousers, the man was breathing through
his open mouth, panting and waiting for my command

Only the older man was fighting me, rubbing his square jaw with some
confusion. His thoughts were slow, like his reactions. He wanted me,
but he was trying to understand...Not why, he could see the reason as I
stood there. He wanted to understand his desire to give me dominance,
which was doubtless something new to him.

I was elated with the power, as much as anything else and I licked my
lips and closed my red eyes and pushed it away.

This was a lesson, and a good one, and I was learning. Some vampires
had this ability only weakly at best, and needed to touch their
victims, to speak to them. Others were stronger, requiring only focus
and a soft word perhaps to enthrall a human mind, to bend the man or
woman to the vampire's will. But this...I laughed lightly, feeling
myself returning to my human disguise, this was beyond anything I'd
heard of, or studied in my long researches.

There were three of them, all of them strong and dominant in their
egos, the way such persons must be. And I'd asserted myself over them
all at once, without effort, if not completely, then enough to gain an
immediate and decisive advantage. The woman was mine for the taking,
the oriental as well, but the older...He'd require attention, resisting
me briefly perhaps, but surrendering in any event. It was intoxicating
to have proof of this power and to know it was strong within me.

There was a lingering tension in the air, even as the three people in
front of me regained their senses. My own body was flushed with
pleasure, my nipples hard and urgent with blood, pressing to the soft
leather that contained them. My sex was moist, my pussy walls tingling
with the anticipation I'd felt during that trenchant timeless moment.

"Uh..." The woman blinked and blushed and looked away from me. "I need
to...to check with the...lab..." She retreated to a desk, hiding behind a
large computer monitor.

"I need some coffee." The oriental agent smiled weakly. "Would you,
uh..." He coughed lightly. "...like a cup, Sister?"

"No thank you." I said, staring at him, staring at his swollen crotch,
his penis still hard for me with undeniable proof of his arousal. His
pants were tented as if he were a 16 year old boy and the man reddened
noticeably, turning away from me.

"Whew, we've been at this for three days." The sandy haired man
blinked. "I'm uh, I'm Burnett the SAC here."

He nodded trying to reassure himself as none of the three were truly
aware of what had just happened.

"That's Special Agent Saito, and uh, Special Agent Linden." He
gestured to his fellows. "We're all a little tired, Sister...Sorry."

"Just call me Ellen." I smiled, as if forgiving the agents for their
bad manners.

I stepped closer and offered him my hand and when he took it, I rubbed
the back of his just briefly, just enough and I stared into his eyes.
They were green, dark and wide suddenly. I wanted him and he knew it,
the same way I could feel his desire for me.

This might have been funny, under other circumstances, the way I was
wrestling with my body, with my instincts, and losing. As a woman, as
a human, I'd had thoughts and needs, but they'd slaves to my will, as
they are in all normal people. We see what we want and consider it and
move along, perhaps wistfully, but realistically.

Now I was like a child alone in a candy store, free to indulge myself,
or so it seemed. That was what I was struggling with, not only the
lust to have what I saw in front of me, but the knowledge that I could
have it. Like the old question, what would you do if you knew you
could get away with it? A moral test and I was failing. I was corrupt
now, far more than I'd been before. I was evil perhaps, for that was
the word that crept into my mind just then.

"Take me someplace." I whispered, holding his hand and the man was
lost.

"This way." He licked his lips, nodding and walking away, leading me
by the hand as I didn't want to let him go.

What the woman might have thought, or the man Saito, we didn't care.
They were unimportant and I was making a mistake, I knew. I should
have stayed with Michel, I should have given him time to teach me,
given myself time to learn. This was wrong, the bad way of doing it,
and it was going to hurt.


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
end of chapter 3
rache696@yahoo.com
www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rache/www/index.htm

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