Caution: This Vampires and Werewolves Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Mind Control, Horror, Paranormal, Vampires, Were animal, Cheating, Gang Bang, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Big Breasts, Slow, 2nd POV, Violent, mc sex story,mc story.
Desc: Vampires and Werewolves Sex Story: Chapter 1 - a Halloween story
Looking across the large room, confusion locked me in place. I had no idea what I was going to do. I watched as a very pretty woman in a sexy nurse costume looked around her in every direction. It was clear that she was looking for something or someone.
A man in a wolf costume stepped up to her then. She looked up at him and smiled. "Joey?" she asked. He shook his head. She wasn't rude or even impolite to him, but her sense of disappointment was apparent. Her shoulders slumped. Her head and chin dropped and her beautiful smile vanished. After chatting for a moment the wolf moved on.
A few moments later, Iron man moved in on her. His costume was a technological marvel. It had flashing lights, an impressive laser that shot from the arms and the visor lifted mechanically to reveal the wearer's face. I wished I had that costume. I love Iron man.
Somehow though once the wearer's face was revealed, her disappointment became even more pronounced. I used the plastic representation of a very stylized Hessian Cavalry battle axe that came with my own costume to scratch my head. I really had no idea what I should do. Since my head was actually where the chest of my costume was, it looked very strange.
I didn't care how it looked. If anyone watching had wanted to see strange, I could always scratch my ass with the axe. Besides, over the past few weeks I'd been through so many things that I no longer cared what things looked like. Life is simply too short to worry about appearances. Things aren't always what they look like anyway.
In fact, if it wasn't for me and the tiny redhead I was staring at, along with another group of people who had now scattered to the winds, none of these people would be here to enjoy this Halloween party in the first place.
Looking at the woman again, her sexy nurse costume seemed kind of ... out of place. She was kind of tiny and not really the sex kitten type; at least not on the surface. But as I've said, things aren't always what they seem.
Rebecca's body is deceptive. Yes, I know her name. I know it very well. You see, I'm the Joey that she keeps asking for. And right now, I'm both very afraid and very confused. Until very recently, that deceptive little body was my playground.
Rebecca is a natural redhead. She has the milky skin and freckles that go along with it. She's also lied about her height for most of her life. When we first started dating, she told me that she was 5 foot 1. Our first trip to an amusement park brought out the truth. When we stepped up to get on the roller coaster and the teen ager running the ride noticed that even though she was drinking a beer she was significantly shorter than the 5 foot tall safety line, he politely asked her how tall she is.
"I'm 5 foot 1," she said, gripping my hand tightly.
"Can you step over to the board ma'am?" he asked. Again he was very polite and very professional.
"Why?" asked Rebecca, sharply.
"Ma'am, I could lose my job if I break the safety rules and I'm not sure you're tall enough," he said nervously. The people in the line behind us were growing anxious, including Rebecca's fourteen year old niece Kali and her friend, who had come to Kent Park with us.
"Go on Aunt Beck," said Kali. "I want to get on the coaster."
Rebecca stepped up to the line trying her best to stand on her tiptoes without it being obvious. There was at least an inch of daylight between the top of her head and the bottom of the safety line.
"You're too short. Come back next year Punkin," snorted someone behind us. I knew what was coming. Most of the time, Rebecca was as timid as a fawn. She was very soft spoken and sweet. But...
Her face got as red as her hair suddenly and her beautiful green eye flashed. Back then I smiled because I'd seen it before. Back then I had no idea how dangerous that tiny woman could be.
"Fine!" she yelled. "I didn't want to ride your fuckin' roller coaster anyway! I'm going to Cedar Point next weekend to ride some real coasters!"
"Wait for us Aunt Beck," screamed Kali as she and her girlfriend got into seats on the ride. She looked at me.
"I'll be here when you get back Joey," she said.
"I can't go either," I said. "The math doesn't add up."
"Let me guess," she said. "Since you're an engineer, you've calculated the weight of the cars, the speed of the coaster, the diameters of the bends and the height of the rises and you think it's unsafe to ride, right?"
"Nope, it's much simpler math," I said. "Factor one, I love you Beck. Factor two, we will always be together. So one plus one, adds up to the two of us on the ground." Her eyes got wet then. Since I knew she hated to cry in front of people. So I threw in, "Shorty."
"I am not short!" she said loudly. She's actually four foot eleven.
Her thick red tresses are full of waves and curls. They hang down her back nearly to her waist. Sometimes, I swear that hair has nerves and can feel things. When we first moved in together, I was informed that besides owning her body and her heart, I owned that hair and was responsible for it.
That meant a lot of time brushing it and combing the tangles out of it when she got out of the shower. And almost every time I brushed her hair we ended up having sex. It got to the point where our friends would tell her not to do her hair if we were going out to meet them, because we probably wouldn't show up.
You really can't tell when she's clothed, but Rebecca has fairly large breasts. They look odd on her tiny body, but they're so soft that clothes seem to compress them. The first time I saw her naked I was shocked.
Her butt is really nice too. When she bends over you can see her sparsely furred fiery thatch of pubic hair. That's one of her ways of teasing me. She bends over knowing that red fur drives me wild.
As the room fills up with happy people some of whom are trying to meet someone special and others who just want to score, she seems to become more and more withdrawn. A couple of really cute women in costumes that leave very little to the imagination try to convince me to dance with them.
"Maybe later," I told them. They're really nice, really drunk and really pretty, but I came here tonight, to either put away my doubts and move forward with the woman I love. Or failing that, I want to just move forward.
You see, a few days ago, Rebecca and I went through something that makes me wonder whether or not we have any kind of future. At this point I have more questions than answers when it comes to not only what happened, but what it means for us.
Before you go any further, I should tell you that THIS isn't how it started. But it is how it started for me.
I know the whole saving the world thing is probably important, but to me my personal problems are at the center of this.
I work at a manufacturing center in Madison Heights, Michigan. We make all kinds of parts for anyone who contracts us. Our only scruples involve getting paid. So we make parts for GM one week and that Italian company, Chrysler, the next. My shifts rotate on a monthly basis and this month I'm supposedly working midnights. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on whose point of view you're looking at things from, we lost power to the entire complex 15 minutes before my shift was supposed to start. So after shedding a few tears about a lost night of production, I sent my crew home, while visions of my favorite little fire crotch danced in my head.
So I jumped in my Honda and high tailed it for home. I was about three blocks away from the home I shared with Beck, when I noticed her Fusion heading through the intersection. I know my woman, or at least I thought I did. And she wasn't driving like Beck. She was flying. Beck is a little afraid of driving so she drives like an old lady. Her parents were killed in a car accident and she didn't get her license until she was 22.
I wondered why she hadn't called me to tell me that she was going out. Then I figured that maybe it was an emergency and she was in a hurry. I followed her to see what was going on.
She stopped on front of a house that I didn't recognize. There were a couple of older, creepy looking guys out there and she walked right up to one of them. The four of them went inside of the house. It didn't make sense. I wondered if the old guys were friends of her family or relatives. I thought that I knew most of her family and I didn't recognize those guys at all.
I was torn. I didn't know whether to go to the house and knock on the door or to wait and see what happened. I didn't think that she'd be in there for very long, so I decided to wait and see what happened. After about twenty minutes I got the idea to call her. I dialed her number and it rang and rang until it went to voicemail. It wasn't like Beck to ignore my calls.
I got out of the car and walked up to the house. I looked in a window and all I saw were naked bodies. Three or four dirty, ratty looking older guys were running a train on Beck and fucking the shit out of her. My fists opened and closed reflexively as I watched.
She was on her back in the middle of a living room that looked like an indoor garbage dump. One guy was between her widely spread legs with his bony, misshapen hips thrusting into her as fast and as hard as he could. Becky's pelvis rose to meet every thrust from the guy and her head bobbed up and down as she sucked the rancid looking pecker of another of the guys who leaned over her.
Beck was eerily quiet. She was usually very vocal when we had sex. But that could have been because her mouth was obviously full.
The guy screwing her started to lengthen his strokes as if he was winding up. Then he rammed her as hard as he could and she reached her free hand around his waist to hold him inside while rubbing her pubic bone against his. I could see the muscles in his hips clenching as he came. "Ahhhhhgggh!" he yelled. Then he pulled out, stood up and wiped his dick on her face. Another guy moved in to take his place. This guy tapped her on her shoulder and said something to her. She flipped over and he started fucking her doggy style.
He rammed his pelvis against her ass so hard that it had to be hurting her. But she still didn't utter a sound. But her mouth was still full. The new guy that she was sucking was ramming her throat as hard as the guy in her other end was slamming her hips.
The guy fucking her acted as if he hadn't had any pussy since Nixon was in office and was doing his best to bring back his glory days. But those days were probably only memories now and for good reasons since he couldn't last very long in Beck's extremely tight, fiery hot gash. After only a few strokes he too grabbed for her tiny waist to hold on to as he began to spasm and jerk uncontrollably while he flooded her insides with whatever noxious fluids his body put out.
The next guy had a different idea. Even as his predecessor staggered away still groaning he started trying to loosen Beck's anus up with a dirty greasy finger. He dipped the finger into her pussy to scoop out some of the slippery fluids the first two had deposited. Beck obligingly lifted her ass even higher to give him access, while beginning to suck even harder on the dick in her mouth. My mouth dropped open in shock.
The same woman that had pledged eternal love for me, yet only gave me blowjobs on my birthday and Christmas, because she wasn't that kind of girl, was sucking a homeless guy's dick like she was fifty feet under water and it was the only airline. Meanwhile another guy was lining his dick up with her supposedly virgin asshole. An asshole that I, the idiot who married her, got evil looks if I brushed against it while we had sex.
It just pissed me off and mystified me even more. The bum at her butt pushed his dick forward sinking in. She paused for a second, making me think that she'd come to her senses and was about to revolt against the intrusion. But I was wrong again. She spread her legs a little more, allowing him to slide it in more easily. Then he started pumping away at her ass while she pushed back against him in perfect synchronization.
The easy way that they got their rhythm together while she continued to puff away at his comrade's dick seemed practiced to me. I wondered how many times they had done this. I have to admit that I wasn't thinking about the future. As I watched in horror, with tears flowing down my cheeks, I began to wonder about my future. I suddenly realized that I didn't have one. At least not with the woman I had so recently married.
I had seen enough, so I started to walk away from the scene. As I did I heard the roar as yet another man emptied himself into Beck's welcoming body. I got into my car and drove away. I drove around for a while with no destination in mind. I just drove as my mind wandered. I drove for hours and suddenly realized that I'd been driving for most of the night. In fact, it was getting close to the time I usually woke up. I had several decisions to make.
I knew that during the day, I needed to find a lawyer. As much as it had seemed a good decision at the time, I began to regret having married Beck. If we'd just continued to live together, I could just walk away. But the pressure from her family and even my own insecurity had pushed me to pop the question.
I can still remember the conversation as if it was yesterday instead of almost a year ago. We'd been lying on the deck behind our house that the two of us had just built. It had taken us months of weekends, since we weren't contractors. Pure desire and a lot of "Do it yourself" videos from Home Depot had helped us. That evening as we lay there under the stars sharing a Dos Equis on the deck we'd built ourselves, I realized that the little redheaded creature I held in my arms was the most important thing in my universe.
"Beck, will you please marry me?" I asked. I don't know if it was the desperation in my voice at the thought that without some kind of legal thing to hold us together, she might someday leave me, or if she'd begun to succumb to the external pressure as well, but she answered me quickly.
"Joey, I've been waiting for you to ask me that since the first second I set eyes on you," she said quietly. "In my heart, we've been married since five minutes after we met. I love you so much I don't think I could live without you. But, if you really want to spend a big assed chunk of our money, to please our relatives and feed them; Yes, Honey, I'll marry you."
I sat up and looked down at her. At that moment I was more filled with love for her than any man had ever been for any woman throughout history. Okay maybe I'm exaggerating that part but you get the idea. I looked into her eyes and saw nothing but love for me reflected back. But I saw something else there too and it scared the living shit out of me. When I looked into the eyes of my beloved, for a fleeting instant, I thought I saw a flame burning in those green orbs that I worshipped.
I blinked and it was gone but a chill had gone down my spine. I had the feeling that I'd seen something that I shouldn't have seen. I chalked it up to a reflection of the moon in those big pretty green eyes. It had to be. Beck had a bit of a temper but there was nothing evil about her. She rarely ever even used swear words.
I put the memory down and returned my mind to my car and my plans. As soon as I woke up the next afternoon to get ready for work, I had to get myself a lawyer. I needed a really good one and I needed him fast. After what I'd just seen, there was no way I could stay with her.
Interlude: Six months earlier: This is how it really started
Spirits moved in the darkness of the full moon. There were many spirits moving here and most of them were very old spirits that had not moved on. Some remained tethered to the earthly plane to watch over loved ones. Others remained because they were angry about things that had happened while they were still mortal. Those spirits in particular, grew very powerful with time. In the spirit world the physics work differently. Things like anger, things like intent, become power.
On this particular night in early spring, the rare alignment of a particular group of stars superimposed over the full moon rendered the veil between the dimensions thinner than it had been in over four hundred years. Something far older than any of the spirits here, reached out to communicate and by doing so establish a connection to the spirit realm. This connection was only the first tenuous step in the being's plan though.
"Bridget Bishop can you hear me?" the voice asked in a language that sounded like the rustling of the leaves against the ground. Humans and animals in the area reacted to the voice. Humans felt a chill in their spines and all but the bravest knew fear. Some would run, knowing nothing of why they'd chosen at that moment to flee. The brave would get their hackles up and prepare to fight, although there was nothing around them to do battle with.
The animals on the other hand would simply run and keep running until they felt safe again.
"Bridget Bishop, first wronged ... most angry!" cried the voice across the plane of the universe. "You were the first to die, due to the pure stupidity of the masses and the greed of a few."
Even the spirit the voice tried to contact could be lured out or baited into answering.
"Tituba was the first to be tried unjustly in the Witch trials. Get your facts straight," answered the spirit.
"My facts are correct, dead human," answered the voice. The voice had accomplished its mission as soon as Bridget's vanity caused her to answer. All the being had required was for someone, anyone to answer his summons to complete the circuit and give him a connection into the spirit world. Bridget Bishop, by answering him had provided that. He decided to go further. "Though Tituba was tried, she confessed. She was sold into slavery and lived out her life. Tituba, though not very powerful was indeed a witch. Her abilities came from teachings from her homeland and were akin to voodoo."
The rustling sound grew louder. If any living beings had been in the area it would have sounded almost as if the wind spoke words.
"Is it not ironic Bridget Bishop, that although you were not a witch you were the first to die. You died because you were a very powerful woman. You, like many of the women in the current age, knew everything ... except how to keep her mouth shut. Men in power or authority in your own town saw you as a threat and wanted what you had. So they named you a witch and claimed all you'd built."
The being fed off of the waves of anger that came from Bridget.
"Your land, where you grew such luscious fruit, is now a restaurant. Streets stand on what was once your land. Land that by right should belong to your descendants ... except that you have no descendants do you?" it asked.
"If you believe in the power of numbers, little witch, this should be your time. Three hundred and twenty one years have passed since you were murdered. Three - two - one, is a powerful sequence. It is the sequence of unmaking. In this year and this one alone you can undo what was done to you..."
"Yes," cried the spirit of Bridget Bishop.
"You can have everything that was taken from you returned!" hissed the voice.
"Yes," cried Bridget louder.
"You can regain a human form and walk the earth again!" crooned the voice joyously.
"Oh yes," shouted Bridget.
"You can wreak vengeance on the souls of those who did this to you!" cried the voice.
"Yes!" gushed Bridget triumphantly.
"But ... wait..." said the voice softly. "You aren't actually a witch though ... are you?"
" ... But ... I ... I" whined Bridget's essence.
"No matter," said the voice. "I can teach you what you must know. To begin, you need power. For now, you are naught but a pissed off disembodied loser. In order to get what you seek, you must be a thousand times more powerful than you are now. Every spell you master will grant you power. Every alliance you make will give you aid. But in order to broker those deals with the darkness you must have power."
"But how do I get power?" asked Bridget.
"You don't get power," snapped the voice angrily. "It's not like you're going after a fucking slurpee. Power has to be taken. It must be wrenched violently from those who have it. And all the while, they will try to take yours. There are those around you, who are linked to you by events of the past. If you add their power to yours you will be three times as powerful as you are now."
"Tituba and Giles Corey," said Bridget.
"Exactly," sang the being. "But they are as strong as you are. To get their power will take a few steps. First you need an ally on the earthly plane. You need someone to act as your agent until your power grows sufficient to affect things in the physical world. I have someone in mind."
"Reach out with your thoughts and call to the one we seek," said the voice.
I wheeled the stretcher into the X-ray lab. I was chatting about baseball with the 88 year old man lying on it. I introduced him to the imaging tech that would perform the x-rays on his chest, ribs, right elbow and hip. "Bobby here will take good care of you, Mr. Jenkins," I said to him. Even as I left the room the buzzing in my pocket made me smile.
I flicked out my iPhone and looked at the screen. I rushed out of the room and down the hall. I stepped into one of the lounges that were reserved for staff to take their breaks in.
"Hey," I said into the phone. "I thought I was having terrible luck tonight. But now I have nun," I quipped. It was a terrible pun, but I knew it would make her laugh.
"I must be spending too much time in the cemeteries," she said back. "My heart beats faster hearing some dead guy's voice."
"Hearing your voice makes me wish that my heart still beat," I said.
"I love you Mason," she said.
"Piety, I don't know what you've done to me, but I've never felt this way about anyone, EVER," I said.
"I just wanted to hear your voice before we go after this Wendigo," said Piety.
"Where the hell are you?" I asked suddenly. I always worried about her when she was in the field.
"I'm in Canada, Honey," she said. I could hear the pleasure in her voice. "That's where they keep the Wendigos, ya know?" she sounded absolutely cheerful.
"Piety, why do you sound so damned cheerful?" I asked.
"Because, someone cares for me so much that he gets angry and worried about me doing my job. It's cute," she chirped. "But don't worry, Mason. Everything that's holy is on my side. Besides, I don't really think there are any Wendigos left. No one has seen one on over a hundred years. This probably won't be any worse than that werewolf we went after last week. It just turned out to be a frigging bear that was attacking tourists in a park for food. The bear had gotten rabies somehow. That thing threw us all around and scratched the crap out of us. Finally, we took it from three sides. Patience shot it with her crossbow to wound it. I distracted it and while it came after me, Penance crushed its skull with her mace."
"Score one for the angry nun," I laughed. "Tell Big Green that I owe her one for protecting my angel."
"Awww!" she crooned. "Is that how you see me? Am I your angel?"
"Yeah, but you say that as if it's a good thing," I laughed.
"It's a very good thing. I like being your angel," she said.
"Then you really didn't read the bible too well," I laughed.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
"Piety, angels aren't the way that people think they are. Whenever God wanted to fuck some shit up, he sent an angel. Go get that Wendigo. And then come and see me. It's been too long," I said. "I'm immortal but I can't wait that long."
"Mason, it's only been a week," she said.
The day started out shitty and went downhill from there. To begin with I woke up and felt like I was alone. Our bed is a queen sized sleigh bed. It's cozy but it's really not that big. Even before we were married, I got used to waking up in Joey's arms. But there he was rolled as far away from me as the bed would allow. One of his legs was hanging over the side of the bed. I felt like if I gave him one little push, he'd spill onto the floor.
I smelled my armpit because I couldn't remember if I'd taken a shower the night before. I smelled clean and soapy. As a matter of fact, my skin was still slightly damp as if I'd just taken another shower. And my legs felt funny. They felt like they'd been forced apart and held there for a long period of time. My whole body felt as if I'd had really rough sex. That was strange because I'd never had rough sex. I don't think I'd like it. I'd only been with one man before Joey, and he was a fumbling twenty year- old that I'd met in college.
The idea of letting some guy turn what was supposed to be an act of love into some kind of animalistic, chest beating trip to downtown pound town just didn't appeal to me. I love my Joey. I love the gentle and loving things he did with me. At that moment I couldn't think of anything I wanted more.
I reached out to stroke his hair and he moved in his sleep as if he was disgusted. I had never seen Joey respond to my touch like that. He must've been having a really bad dream. For some reason, I felt really bad. I felt as if I'd done something to let him down somehow. I just couldn't figure it out. He'd told me that he didn't want dinner. And I'd gotten really tired last night. The last thing I remember was him kissing me goodnight and tucking me in just before he left to go to work. He was probably upset about something that had happened on the job. I wondered why he was taking it out on me. When he woke up the two of us were going to have a talk.
Bridget reached out with her essence, the way she'd been taught. At first it was hard in more ways than one. For most of her life she'd been the typical woman of her era. She'd been raised in the church. She'd been raised to believe in God and fear evil. It had done her no good. Where was her God when they put the rope around her neck and took her lands?
Bridget's mind touched something. It wasn't exactly human ... at least it wasn't anymore. The creature was far older than a human being as was Bridget herself. It was over a hundred years old. It wore the clothing from a bygone era. It had an old hat placed jauntily upon its head and carried a walking stick. Bridget wasn't sure, but she couldn't remember the last time she saw anyone with a walking stick.
As she'd been taught, Bridget probed the creature's mind. She knew exactly what to say. In fact as she'd been told, she had a lot in common with the beast. They were both motivated by the same things. They both wanted revenge. The beast seemed to want revenge against three nuns. The nuns had destroyed the creature's progeny. It hated the women for that. It also felt that if the women were allowed to continue, not only would they destroy more of his kind. They might someday destroy him, if he wasn't careful.
The women also had the support of the church and a handful of magical or blessed weapons. The creature decided that some magical help of his own might come in handy ... He was willing to do Bridget's bidding in exchange for her help against the nuns. And so a pact of the most unholy was formed. What the creature didn't know was that the contract between them would be temporary at best. Bridget's plans and those of the creature would soon part ways because Bridget had her own plans for one of the nuns.
The very next night they started. Bridget reached out with her essence and found the spirit of another woman who'd been tried for witchcraft. This one had been a witch. Her spirit told Bridget's that she had never done anything evil. She had just used her knowledge of plants and herbs to make salves to heal her family's aches and pains. Sometimes she'd also make them for her neighbors and friends. She had never worshipped the devil or anything other than her lord Jesus.
Bridget laughed inside at how stupid the woman was. "Power is power," she thought. Bridget used her honeyed thoughts to get on the woman's good side. She promised that if the woman would tell her where she was buried, Bridget would see to it that fresh flowers were placed on her grave. The woman told her. Bridget relayed the information to her vampire familiar.
Moments later the vampire went to the unmarked grave, dug up the woman's remains and burned them. The long-dead witch suffered an agony she had never imagined as her spirit passed into true, everlasting death. This death was far worse than the first, because her spirit didn't pass into Heaven, Hell, or even the limbo that she'd been in for the past three hundred or so years. Her spirit simply disappeared into nothingness as if she had never existed. But in the process, Bridget gained her power.
"I feel stronger already," thought Bridget. "One down, ninety nine to go." the voice had told Bridget that in order to gain the power she needed she had to get it from other witches. Until that moment Bridget had never considered herself, just as the unfortunate creature whose spirit she'd just raped hadn't, to actually be a witch. "Who cares what they call me," she said. And her voice too was like the rustling of the wind. "If burning the witches gets me what I want, I'll burn them all."
Bridget burned two more weak witches that night. And that is how this really started.
My name is Sarah Price. I'm the best there is at what I do. Right now, I'm suffering from a bout of jealousy. After all of the divorce and infidelity cases I've handled, it's finally come home to me. My husband and soul-mate has been spending time with another woman. The worst thing is that he does it right in front of my face. Sometimes, I don't think he even realizes how painful it is for me to see that look on his face after he's been with her. He has that big dumb smile that was formerly reserved only for me. His eyes flash brighter and his smile looks as if it would just crack his face in two.
The worst part about it is that I love her too. But Chris takes it to a whole new level. They may have pulled Charah from my body, but she'd been in her daddy's arms ever since. Chris went from nervous first time dad, to baby expert over-night. At this point I'm not even sure he fully trusts me with her. When family or friends visit, hoping to see the baby, he metes out the time they get to hold her. It isn't unusual to have friends visit and ask to hold her while Chris sits there staring at them and after some odd number of seconds have elapsed, he swoops back in and takes her. I have no doubt in my mind that she is going to be a daddy's girl. When she cries, as soon as he picks her up, she's fine.
Today is my first day back to work. Charah is six months old and I have a crib here in my office. My PA, Pam, was hired to take care of Charah, when I'm on a case. She's also great with computers, so she can help me with intel as well.
The only thing she seems to have a problem with is pronouncing my daughter's name. She calls her "Charah" pronouncing it like "Cha" as in "Cha-cha." My daughter's name is pronounced "Kara," but the spelling is written the way it is to blend her Dad's name "Chris" with my name, "Sarah."
As I was trying to explain it to her again, a rumbling came from the office next door. I ran over to see what was going on. A short chunky guy was wrestling with a couple of the guys who handled our most minor cases.
"Okay, whose dick is bigger?" I asked loudly. After a couple of seconds all three of the men stopped fighting and turned to look at me.
"He just went nuts," said Sam Bradford, one of our junior investigators.
"This asshole called my wife a slut," spat the short guy. "I'm not going to pay some guy to talk about her."
"Sam, my office, right now," I said. Sam followed me next door.
Once I got in the office Sam started pleading his case. "Ms. Price, he called her a slut himself. He thinks she's cheating on him and he wants us to get evidence so he can divorce her and..."
"This is your first, last and only lesson on professional decorum, Sam," I said. "The client can call their spouse anything they want to. We on the other hand have to be professional at all times. You are never to call anyone or anything outside of their name at any time. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes ma'am," he said.
We walked back over to the other office and I brought the client with me. I seated him across from me and got him a hot cup of coffee which he took black.
I gave him a few moments to compose himself. He sipped his coffee and I noticed the signs. His hands shook a bit. And the look in his eyes, his body language and his movements all told me the same thing. The man was in shock. Even looking at his face told me a story. This was a man who was used to smiling. Only his pain made his face neutral.
"Tell me your story," I said. And he did. He told me a story about two people in love. I was a sucker for stories like that. In a way it was not very different from my own story with Chris ... well ... okay I got Chris on the rebound from his divorce. But after that it was a lot the same. Only in his case, for some unexplainable reason the love had gone wrong and it was turning the poor man inside out.
Like most men, Joey didn't want to hurt his wife or leave her destitute. He just wanted to get out of the marriage and stop his pain. I agreed to take his case. I smiled thinking about it. Normally I seem to only get strange or high profile cases. For my first day back on the job, I relished the chance to have a normal, run of the mill divorce case. I figured I'd need a few days or nights of surveillance to get my evidence. Maybe we'd have to stage a fake trip out of town for Joey, but in a week or less, I'd have this one in the can.
Over the last few weeks, I've become far stronger than I've ever imagined I could be. I had absorbed the spirits and powers of more than forty witches. I no longer had any regrets about doing it. At first I worried a lot about taking the power from other witches and sending their souls to oblivion. But my nameless mentor explained to me that it was the lesser of two evils and in a way I was helping them. They served no purpose haunting graveyards and rotting houses anyway. Some of the witches had to be convinced or conned into giving away their final resting places. Others were so tired of simply existing that they voluntarily gave up their locations.
At any rate, burning the witches and gaining their power became something I longed for and loved doing. I loved the infusion of new power. I loved the smell of the burning bones filling the air. I was also learning more and more magic at the same time. Some I absorbed from some of the witches I burned, but most came from the voice. I did have a few regrets. Burning Tituba and Giles was unpleasant but necessary.
As a result of the latest acquisitions, I noticed that I'd become so strong that I was beginning to be able to affect things in the material world. Very soon I would no longer truly need the services of that vile vampire, Papa Tulu, he called himself.
I'd keep him around never the less though. Partly because I needed to save my strength and doing anything on the material plane was extremely draining. But also because I needed to step up the power levels of the witches I was going after. Some of the witches in the next group are still alive and are even more powerful than any I've face before. Some of these women and men don't even realize that they ARE in fact witches.
The living witches have been a difficult challenge. I've failed on a few occasions, but that was before I reached my current power levels.
What was the most embarrassing was when I failed with women who didn't even know they were witches. There was this awful little woman that I reached out to who was riding in one of those giant semi-trucks. The evil little bitch was just sitting there in that truck, watching the world go by her. She kept snapping and arguing with the man who drove the truck, but it was obvious that they loved each other very much. I got the feeling that her calling him names and snapping at him was just her way of showing him that she loves him.
"Chance, God dammit, I keep telling you that I don't want to hear any of that hillbilly music you listen to," she spat. "It's too damned depressing."
"Evie, are you high?" the big man asked her. He had the ghost of a smile playing on his lips and a twinkle in his eye that was obviously reserved for her. "This isn't hillbilly music. It isn't country. It's not even bluegrass. This is Gordon Lightfoot. This song, "If you could read my mind," is one of the most beautiful songs ever written."
"Chance, if you could read MY mind, what a tale MY thoughts would say," she smirked. "About a man who'll get no pussy, til his Evie gets her way." she looked at him and folded her arms across her chest.
He immediately changed the channel on the radio station.
"I love you too, idiot," she said. And even as she spoke to him, her hands were reaching for him. I took that moment to try to contact her, witch to witch. I know the little bitch felt me trying to communicate with her. I sensed in her thoughts that she felt me. Of course, she felt me as a headache since she has no idea of how strong her powers are or how to use them. The little bitch didn't have the decency to even address me. Somehow she just flung me out of her head as easily as if she was throwing a bad taste out of her mouth by eating something sweet.
Try as I might, I couldn't get into her head anymore. She just blocked me. When I'm stronger, I'll have her power just like all of the others. And then there was the one down south. She was at least as strong as the bitch on the truck, but even more sure of herself. That one calls herself Savannah. And she has to be incredibly strong. She's married herself to one of her negroes and even has children with him. In my time, that woman would have been stoned and the male would have been castrated and pilloried, still bleeding.
That one is so strong that I couldn't even begin to get inside of her head. I wasn't even a headache to her. She brushed me off without a thought. I thought about sending the vampire after her, I was so angry, but since I've developed the ability to set the bones of the dead ones afire without any help. I have him doing something else.
The only one I've gone against who knew what she was, is an older woman ... well ... she's older than the other two. She's probably in her mid forties. Her name is Angela, something or other. But she knows what she is and what she's doing. She did some kind of spell that blocked me from even seeing her let alone communicating. She actually laughed at the idea of giving me her power.
So I've gone back to sucking power out of the dead ones. But in a little while I'll be much stronger than any of the living ones and I'll go back and drain those bitches too. Meanwhile my pet vampire Papa Tulu will continue gathering allies.
With Chris staying in with the baby this evening, it left me free to watch my new target. From the way that Joey talked about her, I was expecting a super-model. It's funny the way that men view women. Joey went on and on about how beautiful she is, but all I see is a short red head with big breasts. My cousin Savannah is far more beautiful. So is my cousin Evie. My aunt Angela puts them both to shame and none of them are that disproportionate.
I guess from the maker point of view, breasts are like TV screens. There's just no such thing as too big. Anyway when I look at her, I see a lot of things, but I just don't see her as being earth shattering. In fact I'm not sure the woman is tall enough to even ride the fast rides at an amusement park. Poor Joey obviously has a thing for tiny redheads. Once I catch this one in the act, he may have to go to West Virginia to find himself another one. They grow like weeds there. I should know.
At about 11 pm, Joey leaves the house. He's headed for his job and leaving his future in my hands. It seems to hurt him as he does his best to avoid kissing his wife goodbye. I'm sure he's torn between his love for her and what he saw her do. I intend to do my best to wind this up tonight and spare him any further pain.
Rebecca came out about twenty minutes after he left. As I watched her I noticed that there was something off about her. I pulled my binoculars out of the glove box and train them on her face. There is definitely something odd about her but I can't put my finger on it.
I'm parked down the street from her but my binoculars make spotting her easy. The cool thing about these binoculars is that I can also record her to an SD card right on the binoculars. When Sony first came out with them every one wondered who would spend fourteen hundred dollars on something like this. Obviously they had private investigators and bird watchers in mind. It's a very niche product, but since I'm in that niche, I love them.
Since I'm three houses down the street from her, she doesn't pay me any attention if she did see me. She gets into her car and pulls out onto the deserted streets. When I took the job, I had Joey put a tag on her car. I power up my iPad and tap the locator app. Since the app is tied to google maps, I can even get driving directions to where she is.
Using my electronic toys is really a lot easier than having to drive around trying to tail someone, with the car's light off.
I gave her three minutes and then followed her. She and Joey lived in a fairly nice area. The streets we were driving down were not quite as nice. I glanced at my IPad and noticed that the car had stopped.
I spotted it about a block ahead of me. It was parked on a street that had a couple of bars and a liquor store on it. I saw her get out of her car. There was definitely something off about her but I still couldn't see it. She walked a couple of blocks over and stopped in front of a big electronics store. I started to record her then.
Without even looking around to see what was going on, she picked up a chunk of rock that had broken off of the crumbling curb. The heavy rock didn't seem to tax her tiny arm muscles. There was something odd about that too. I'm taller than Rebecca and in very good shape. I've been working very hard over the past six months to get my pre-baby body back and I'm in the best shape of my life. But I'm not sure that I could lift that rock let alone lift it with one hand.
Rebecca not only lifted the rock with one hand, she threw it through the window of the store and set off all kinds of alarms. A bunch of homeless men, who were huddled around a flaming barrel, trying to stay warm, heard the crash and the subsequent alarms and came running towards the store as Rebecca calmly walked away. A few of them reached inside of the window and grabbed small items that they could sell later some of the braver ones actually went inside of the store and ran out with larger boxed items.
I followed Rebecca at a reasonable distance, sticking to the shadows to avoid being seen. Three of the homeless men also followed her. I was still recording at that point. Rebecca seemed to know that she was being followed by the men. She headed to an area that gave her more room and began to slow her pace. Traffic was sporadic until we got to some of the bigger streets. At one of them, Rebecca and her retinue turned into an alley. One of the men rubbed her butt as they walked. She stopped in the alley suddenly and got down on her knees in front of him.
I've seen men and women do things that you'd never expect from them. I've seen schoolteachers and preacher's wives suck off men in hotel rooms. I've seen balding fifty year old fathers screwing twenty year old cheerleaders during college football games. You never know what lust will make a human being do. But this just seemed off to me. As I watched her servicing the three men in the alley, it suddenly came to me. It wasn't lust driving her. It was something else. Her actions seemed mechanical almost as if...
Nope, drugs wouldn't do that. Even when drugged most people still moved naturally. Perhaps they didn't have any memory of their actions after the fact, but they didn't move like that. I zoomed in on her face with my binoculars and noticed for the first time that her eyes were open. They were too open. She didn't blink at all. I had enough recorded so I stopped. Joey needed proof not a porno movie. Seeing too much of his wife fucking bums in an alley might drive him to do something I wouldn't want on my conscious.
When she was done, she simply stood up and walked away, pulling her clothes on as she went. I watched in fascination as she walked with her clothes still open and her sizable breasts jutting out of her blouse. When she got to the next intersection another homeless man with a sign begging for donations from passing drivers noticed her.
She grabbed her boobs and shook them at him from across the street. He was so engaged with her boobs that he dropped his sign. She reached into the pocket of her skirt and pulled out several bills. He started towards her but she held up a hand stopping him.
She pointed to her own crotch and then to him. He smiled displaying a mouthful of rotting teeth. She started to rub her own body, swaying in time to music that only she could hear. Across the wide street he began rubbing his own crotch as he watched.
She turned her back to him and started shaking her butt. He rubbed faster and faster. Finally she turned back to him and crooked her finger at him. Even as she signaled him to come across the street, I felt that again something was off. Her movements were too jerky. They were robot-like ... puppet like. As I realized what was going on, I was too late to save the man. His lust had propelled him towards the woman gesturing for him. His mind, locked on those big pale breasts and their upturned cherry-like nipples zoned out everything else. As he stepped into the street, the SUV slammed into him knocking him at least fifteen feet in the air. His body turned several twisting summersaults before landing with a sickening crack. His head split on the pavement like an egg spilling his brains and a surprising amount of blood in the street.
The driver of the SUV hadn't had any clue that the man was going to step into the street. He slammed on his brakes, twisting the three ton vehicle in place so quickly that the back of it nearly left the ground. But it was too little too late.
I quickly dialed 911. There was nothing they could do for the homeless man, but perhaps they could save the driver. He'd gotten out of his vehicle and he didn't look good. Even as I heard the sirens in the distance, Rebecca walked towards me headed back the way she'd come. I ducked behind a door and into an abandoned building.
As Rebecca drew near to me she suddenly stopped and looked around. She screeched loudly in a voice so shrill that it shouldn't have come from a human larynx.
"I can feel you there, little witch. You have no idea of what you are, do you? Fortunately for you I have no time for you right now. But let's play," I peered around the door and noticed that Rebecca's mouth was propped open. She wasn't speaking. Her mouth wasn't moving but the words were coming out nevertheless.
"Next time we meet, little witch, I'll burn your bones and add your little bit of power to mine. But for today, I'll just toast you a bit as a parting gift. See you soon," she screeched.
She walked away while all around me tiny but hot flames started springing up. Smoke rose from them. I rushed to the back of the room, trying to find another exit. My lungs filled with smoke and I could still hear that screeching voice getting fainter as Rebecca and whatever was controlling her walked away.
Because of the smoke and the darkness in the building I couldn't see. I coughed a couple of times and couldn't get any air. Realizing that my binoculars had an infra-red mode I trained them on the walls. The door that I'd come in through suddenly didn't exist anymore. I felt myself getting weaker. There was no way this ... whatever, was going to take my away from my husband and my child. I pulled out my gun and tapped against the wall until I felt wood. I kicked at it several times before it gave then I threw myself against it with everything I had just as I blacked out.
Across the country weird things were happening with alarming frequency. Several very powerful vampires had banded together. A few rogue werewolves had also joined them. None of them had ever met before. They had no shared history and nothing linked them together except for the fact that they'd all recently had conversations with Papa Tulu. He'd promised each of them something different and all of them were willing to put off their mutual hatred and mistrust of their own kind and every other to help Papa Tulu accomplish his goals. None of them knew that Tulu's goals were not his own. Nor did Tulu know that the goal his mistress worked for wasn't truly her own.
In a suburb of Chicago, Bridget hovered over a garage. She had no idea why she was here. But the witch who lived here was extremely powerful. The power seemed to ebb and flow and there were different sources and different frequencies.
Bridget had been learning a lot over the weeks of her search. But now it seemed as if she knew nothing. The source of the power seemed to be both alive and dead at the same time. She reached out with her mind into the moderately sized house and found two people, a man and a woman sleeping there. Neither of them had even an iota of magical power. Bridget screamed and the wind rustled in response to her frustration. She cast her mind farther and just as it touched the garage that her spirit floated over. She heard a sound so loud and so evil that it sounded as if the gates of hell were clanging shut. Even in her ethereal form Bridget shuddered. Suddenly the metal of the garage door bent outward and a car burst out of the garage destroying the door in the process. The car a bright yellow Mustang with black racing stripes sped off down the road faster than Bridget could track.
Sometimes spirits attach themselves to objects, thought Bridget. Obviously a very powerful spirit had locked itself to the car. Bridget wanted that power, but even more she needed to understand it.
She had no idea where the car was now, but she would find it.
Two or three hundred miles away from Chicago, but still in the great lakes region, a large man stepped outside of the manufacturing plant where he worked. Another man followed him out the door and they headed for the parking lot.
"Are you sure you need three weeks of your vacation time all at once?" asked the smaller man.
"He'll yeah," laughed the bigger man. "I need to get back to nature for awhile."
"Dude, I can't figure you out. All during the summer when it was hot as hell and everyone else took their vacations, you stuck it out. Now that the weather has cooled off and it's livable in this place, you want to get away," said the small man shaking his head.
The smaller man, Billy, got into an older model pick-up truck. The big man whose name was John, spoke then. Although there was no one around to hear him, he spoke as if there was.
"Yes, I feel it too. Something wicked this way comes. And it's bad this time," he said. As if in answer to his question, the wind kicked up and blew his long black hair. It seemed almost as if the wind caressed him.
When I came too, not very much time had elapsed. I could tell that because the sirens were getting closer, but hadn't arrived yet. I got up and dusted myself off. I looked around for Rebecca but she was gone.
I pulled out my iPhone and checked the tag on Rebecca's car. She was already in it and moving. It looked as if she was heading for home. I couldn't believe that the chunky little redheaded housewife that I thought might be screwing the butcher or something like that was doing the kinds of things that she'd done. Destroying the window at the store was one thing. Killing the homeless guy with the car was completely outside of the zone.
I had no idea what to tell her husband. On one hand something was obviously controlling her. I just didn't know what it was. I'd heard that people could be hypnotized to make them do things. But I'd also heard that a person couldn't do things through hypnosis that they wouldn't ordinarily do. The hypnosis was just supposed to bring down their inhibitions, not turn them into homicidal whores. I hated to admit it but I was out of my element. This case was too weird even for me.
I drove back to her house just in time to watch Rebecca get out of her car and wander back inside of her house in the pre-dawn darkness. I drove home and got into bed with my sleeping husband. He rolled over and wrapped his arms around me and we both fell asleep and everything was right with my world. Somehow, when Chris wrapped his area around me nothing else mattered. At some point during the night my cell phone rang. It barely registered on my psyche. I figured they'd leave a message. A short time later the house phone rang. They could leave a message too.
In the morning, I woke up and made breakfast for Chris and Charah. Everything was tea and crumpets until I got to the office and checked my messages. I realized then that my fatigue and almost dying in that fire had dulled my mind temporarily. The message on my cell phone had been from Joey. He'd called twice. The first time he'd called my cell. The second time he'd called the office.
"Sarah this is Joey," he'd said in the first message. "Have you found anything? Maybe I was wrong. Maybe it wasn't her and ... What the fuck? Hey what's your fucking problem! Sarah, I'm going to have to call you back. There's an asshole here that needs to be taught a lesson." His voice had been angry and brimming with confidence.
The second time he'd called the office and his voice was frightened. "Sarah, I have to run. There's someone ... something chasing me. I have to get clear. I can't go home because I don't want this thing to get anywhere near my Beck, so I..."
All I heard after that was some grunting and crashing and then there was another voice on the phone. "Hm ... da boy seem ta be kind of under de weatha' raht na," he said. And then he laughed but the laugh was like something out of hell.
"You tell his little wife, that we'll be in touch, ya hear? And if'n she wants him back ... heh heh heh..." that was all he said before the phone went dead.
"Fuuuckkkkk!" I yelled. "So much for dropping this case. No matter how weird it was. I couldn't very well quit while my client wasn't around to let him know that I'd quit."
Even though I'm the best there is at what I do, I did what I'm the best at then. It's also the thing that every woman does when she's in trouble. I called my husband.
"Chris, Honey," I crooned.
"Have Pam take Charah home and lock all of the doors until it's over," he said. "If they're following you, they probably won't trail her. We'll work out of your office and stay away from the house, so the danger doesn't follow Charah. I'll be there in twenty minutes," he said.
"How did you know?" I asked.
"Sarah, I love you," he said. "I know all of your moves and moods. I could tell by the sound of your voice that we're on a case. Besides, it's been six months since we've done anything like this. To tell you the truth, I was getting bored. Oh and your aunt called you last night."
"Chris, I love you too," I gushed. "Get here as fast as you can. Whatever aunt Angie wants will have to wait until this is over." Even as I said it, I sensed that it was a mistake.
I felt much better knowing that Chris would be working this weird assed case with me. I also knew what my next move had to be. I jumped into my car and drove to Joey's house, calling Chris to tell him where I was going, on the way.
When I got to Joey's house, I called the number that Joey had given me for their home telephone. The phone rang about five times before the voice mail picked it up.
I immediately dialed the number again. On the third cycle, a sleepy voice answered the phone.
"Hullo..." she said. Her voice was a deep hoarse timber for a female; especially for one as tiny as she was. There was no hint of the screeching voice from the night before. She sounded exhausted, but after everything she'd done that made sense.
"Rebecca, get dressed. I'm on my way to you now. I'm right outside of your house," I said.
"Who the hell is this?" she asked in confusion. "Do I know you?"
"No you don't," I said. "But..."
"Have a nice day, crazy woman," she said. And she hung up the phone.
I called her right back. "Rebecca, is Joey home?" I asked as soon as she picked the phone back up. She hesitated.
"Where is he?" she asked. Every trace of sleepiness was gone from her voice immediately. I suddenly felt like I needed to tell her everything that was going on. Just as I started to spill my guts without knowing why, a voice deep in my head told me to not only shut up, but to keep my thoughts blank.
"We don't have much time to figure this out, so get dressed," I said. She sighed angrily and told me she'd be on the porch in ten minutes. My cell phone rang again and I saw that it was my aunt Angela. I let it go to voice mail. I just didn't feel like talking about a family barbecue at that moment.
I waited on the porch. After a few minutes the door opened. She stepped out on the porch obviously ready to go to war. She scanned me up and down and then eyed me suspiciously. I could actually feel her anger and confusion rolling off of her in waves.
"I should have known," she spat. "I'm going to beat your ass and then his, you..."
"Rebecca what are you going on about now?" I asked. "We really don't have time for any bullshit."
"You're the one who started this ... this ... bull ... shit," she said. Even as she said it, I could tell that she wasn't used to cursing. But she was really angry. I couldn't figure out why though. But she was obviously a ball of conflicting emotions. I marked it down as guilt over all of the shit she'd just done.
It was almost cute, the way her pale skin turned red and tears sprang from her eyes. Then she balled up her tiny fists and took a swing at me. I stepped backwards feeling the whoosh as her little hand flew by my chest and almost laughed.
"Rebecca, I really don't have time to beat your little ass right now," I said confidently. Then she took another swing at me.
"I'll kill you," she gushed. "Joey is mine, you ... whore!" I started laughing then. A woman who went out in the streets and fucked vagrants was calling ME a whore.
I put my hand on her forehead like they do in those three stooges movies and let her flail away at the air.
"Rebecca we don't have time for this," I said again as she vented her anger. "Joey needs our help!" she immediately stopped and I swear that I saw her eyes flash. The next thing I knew I was flying backwards and found myself pressed against the wall of the porch and my feet weren't touching the porch. It felt as though there was a hand clutching my throat cutting off my oxygen supply.
Rebecca was still standing where she'd been standing but she was staring at me and I was sure that there was some type of light behind those green eyes.
"Alright you tall, skinny redheaded whore," she spat at me. "What the fuck is going on?"
"Strawberry blonde," I managed to gasp out.
"What are you talking about you silly bitch?" she hissed. The pressure on my throat eased a bit.
"I'm not a red head," I gasped. "My hair is blonde with a few red highlights mixed in." she looked at me then as if I was a bug under a microscope.
"You lying bitch," she hissed. Suddenly I was free and dropped to the porch, landing unceremoniously on my ass.
She started laughing then. "What's so funny?" I asked. I still had no explanation for what had just happened. Rebecca came over to me then and tried to help me up.
"What's going on Sarah?" she asked.
"I never told you my name," I said. She looked at me in confusion.
"But I seem to know everything about you now," she said. "I was really pissed at you because I ... I thought that with you being so tall and beautiful ... I thought that my Joey was having an affair with you." She looked at me but she couldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sorry I looked in your head ... I've never done that before. I didn't know I could do that. When I get angry things just seem to happen. I guess that's why I'm so paranoid about losing Joey. I mean besides him who else wants to be with "Cherry Smurf." That's what they used to call me in school. I was the last virgin in my class. All the boys, even in college used to say that they were waiting for me to grow up. But the only things that ever grew up were ... well you already know that."
"Rebecca, Joey isn't having an affair. Not with me or anyone else," I said.
"I know that now," she said. "And I know that you're just as screwed up as I am, Sarah. I know that you just had an adorable baby girl. And you love your husband far too much to ever cheat on him. And I even know that you lighten your hair because there are so many pretty redheads in your family. But I still don't know why you came here today."
"Rebecca, you and I need to talk, but I need to get you someplace safe first. Will you come to my office with me?" I asked.
"Of course," she said. "I trust you implicitly, now."
On the way there we made small talk while I tried to process what had happened. I was still trying to come to terms with the fact that's something had been controlling the tiny woman beside me for a big chunk of the previous night. I had no idea of how to breech that subject with her. Now I had to throw in the fact that she had some serious mojo of her own. She had somehow lifted me off of my feet and damned near choked the life out of me without lifting a finger. Then she'd gone through my thoughts like I do a magazine.
When we got back to the office, Chris was already there. I could tell by the fact that his Shelby GT 500 was parked in my parking spot. Obviously my hubby was preparing for war. If he didn't think something was up, he'd have driven his normal supercharged Mustang. Bringing out the GT 500 meant he was ready for anything.
As soon as we stepped into the office he was on his feet. "Oh my God," said Rebecca. "From the pictures in your mind, I knew he was cute, but not this cute."
"Uh Beck, we're here to figure out what happened to YOUR husband, not for you to stare at mine," I snapped. The door opened behind us suddenly and three women rushed into the room.
"Don't worry about her," said the oldest of the three. "She gets pissed whenever anybody breathes near that man." The woman who spoke was in her late forties to early fifties. Looking at her, no one would have believed that she was much older than thirty. Like me, she's tall and thin. Her southern accent immediately disarms people and just seems to make men fall for her. Her hair is long and thick, it settles just above her ass. Her thin summer dress seems out of place in the early fall chill. I guess I'm lucky that she's even wearing shoes. Her smile brightens the room. Even my husband smiles when he sees her.
Right next to her is another redhead. This one you have to really look at. Her hair isn't quite as long but it's just as thick and mixed with curls and waves that seem to have a life of their own. She isn't smiling like the older one. She looks around the room checking out everything while pretending she isn't. Her jeans are freshly pressed and obviously expensive. She's as short as Rebecca is but much thinner. Again, no one could tell by looking at her that she's already had two kids. I can tell by looking at her that she misses her husband. It's all she can do to keep her hand away from her phone. She's wearing boots like the other two, but hers probably cost a thousand dollars or more. She nods at me and shakes her head.
The third woman is the one that gets me every time. Her hair though as red as the other two is cut shorter. It's cut asymmetrically and the longer side hides her eyes on that side. The shorter side curls behind her ear. She's wearing regular Levi's that are so tight that it's a wonder she can breathe. But she's obviously breathing because the rise and fall of her boobs is mesmerizing. She's chewing gum and wearing a T-shirt with some kind of giant truck on it. She's dressed like a trucker, but looks like she could be a model if she wanted to. Her style is the most urban of the three. The headphones dangling around her neck are evidence that she'll get bored in a second and zone out to her music.
One of my colleagues who passed by the office did a double take and then came into the room.
"What the hell is this?" he asks. "Price, are you having a redhead's convention?"
I stand out in this crowd only because my strawberry blonde hair differs from theirs. Rebecca's hair though red as well, is the least fiery. Hers looks washed out compared to the three women who crowded into the room.
"Shit, her hair was as red as ours until she started lightening it," says Evie. Her scratchy cigarettes and beer voice probably have every trucker in the country who hears her voice in love with her. Unfortunately for them, she only has eyes for one of them. And she married that one.
"Sarah, I've called you three or four times and you haven't picked up the phone," accuses Angela.
"I gave her the messages Aunt Angela," gushes my husband, smiling.
"I've been busy, Auntie," I spit, flashing my husband a withering glance. "I'm on a case right now. Maybe you should go to my house and wait for us there."
"We'll wait for ya here, Hon," says Angela. "I've got a feeling..."
I felt a chill go up my spine. Whenever my aunt had one of her feelings, shit happened. She started preparing me and the rest of the family for her marriage to my uncle Mike almost a year before she met him. Six months after she started talking about him, Mike became her son's track coach, discovered that his wife was cheating on him and fell ass over tea kettle for my aunt Angela.
"Just pretend that we aren't here," spat Evie. "Maybe if we get lucky, we won't be. I hate standing still." she reached for her headphones and my cousin Savannah gently pulled her hands away from them.
"Can we get started?" asked Rebecca. "I really don't mind if your family stays. It's weird but I feel a connection here."
"Okay, Rebecca," I said. "You thought at first that I was having an affair with your husband Joey. What made you think that?"
Before Rebecca could say anything, Evie burst out laughing hysterically. Everyone looked at her. "Oh come on," she gushed. "Do you know how stupid that sounds? Sarah ain't gonna' have no affair. Before she met Chris, I thought she was a robot. I don't think she even knew she had a pussy, let alone, what to do with ... I'll shut up now."
"Well," said Rebecca. "For about a week now, he's been acting differently. He doesn't want me the way he normally does. And he's ... sad."
"Rebecca, he loves you," I said. "He would never cheat on you with me or anyone else."
"Especially not with all of that bleach in your hair," quipped Evie. I shot her an angry glance.
"Joey thought that you were the one who cheated on him," I said.
"But I'd never do that," cried Rebecca. "Never in a million years, never." I put the recording from my binoculars on the monitor in the front of the room. Rebecca turned to look at it.
"That's me," she said. "Why do you have video footage of me?"
"Just watch," I said.
We all watched the video. "I never did that," said Rebecca, as we watched her break the store window. "That's not me."
"Yeah it is," said Evie.
"I don't remember any of this," said Rebecca. A few moments later we got to the part where she screwed the homeless men. My aunt Angela turned her eyes away from the screen. Evie moved to the front so she could see it better.
"Nobody told me there was porn," she screamed. "Sarah, can I get a copy of this. Wait until Chance sees this. We're gonna fu ... Am I talking that loud? Sorry."
Rebecca started crying and then the monitor exploded. My aunt Angela moved over to her and hugged her. Savannah hugged her too. "My God what a slut!" screamed Evie. She looked around and noticed everyone staring at her. "What?" she yelled. "Am I the only one who saw that video?"
"Evie, where's Chance?" I asked. My cousin was too abrasive to be here.
"When all of this shit started happening, Angela convinced Greg to take him and Uncle Mike alligator fishing in the glades. That way they'd be safe from all of this shit. I wish it would happen already. I'm bored. Can I call Chance now?"
"No," said Angela sharply. "Rebecca, how long have you been a witch?"
"How long have I been what?" asked Rebecca, softly. She seemed uncomfortable.
"How long have you been able to do the things you do?" asked Angela.
"Always," said Rebecca. "But it only happens when I get angry."
"No," said Angela. "You only let it out when you're angry. It's always there. It's a part of you. We all have it; some of us more than others. Savannah is beginning to see her powers, but they're nowhere near what you have. Evie uses hers to make bad things happen to women who try to pick up her husband in truck stops..." Evie shrugged her shoulders.
"Bitches get stitches," she said.
"Poor Sarah doesn't even acknowledge that there's anything special about her," said Angela. "She thinks the insights that help her solve her cases are due to her intellect."
I had no idea what to say to any of that.
"Oh shit," said Angela. We all turned and looked at her. My aunt Angela was too much of a lady to say "Shit," if she had a mouth full of it.
"It's all a part of the same thing," she said. "Something is out there seeking power. Some kind of spirit or force is amassing power. I have no idea what it wants it for or what it will do with it when it succeeds. It tried to get all of us. It attacked Evie in her truck. It failed because in that truck Evie is the queen. Her love for Chance, coupled with her latent powers and her absolute fearlessness in that truck chased it away. The same thing happened with Savannah. She got a headache. She took care of it, the way she takes care of everything..."
"You mean she rolled Greg over and fucked the sh ... I'm talking loud again aren't I?" said Evie.
"When she came after me it was different," said Angela. "I knew who she was and what she was after. I called those two and once we compared notes, we came here. We decided that if we were going to fight this thing we needed to do it from a place where our loved ones are safe. But with Rebecca, she seems to be operating differently. I don't understand it."
"With Rebecca, it seems more like a test drive," I said.
"What do you mean?" asked Angela.
"With the three of you, she or it wanted your power, your abilities, your magic or whatever. If she's amassing power, she needs a place to put it when she's done. Maybe she wanted to suck the three of you dry and leave you rotting. But with Rebecca, she wants the body. Maybe she's been practicing driving Rebecca's body the way my husband test drives a car. Maybe that's what she's been doing to Beck at night. She's been slowly gaining more and more control over her by making her do things that Beck wouldn't do."
"See what I mean about your abilities, Sarah," smiled Angela. "We need a plan."
"No we don't," I said. "First we need information. We need to know who she is and what the hell she wants. Once we know that ... then we need a plan."
"I know how to get it," smiled Angela. "Taking over someone's body is a lot like mind reading. It's all a matter of focus and power. If Sarah is correct, the spirit will try to take over Rebecca's body again tonight. Rebecca we'll be here with you. And when she tries to take over tonight you're going to do two things. First you're going to block her. Then you're going to take a look at her thoughts too. Theses links are always two-way. If she can look onto your brain, the connection should allow you to look into hers too."
"But I don't know how to do that kind of thing," said Rebecca and what does any of this have to do with my Joey."
I played the phone message for them then. "Doesn't sound like a woman to me," said Evie. "He sounds like one of those fake voodoo priests that are all over New Orleans."
"Whatever he is, he has Joey," I said. "I think he's working with whatever she is. They obviously took Joey to use him as some sort of leverage over Rebecca. That means they won't hurt him. Why risk your best bargaining tool?"
"Look, I'll do whatever it takes to save my Joey," said Rebecca. "Just don't let me fuck anyone this time, okay?"
"It's time to go after your bodies," said the voice in my head. "The binding ceremony must be performed on the night of the solstice."
"Bodies?" I asked. "Do we need more than one?" The hesitation before it answered told me everything I needed to know. I may have been a novice in the arcane arts, but I'd been outsmarting men who treated me as if I was stupid, three hundred years ago. That may have been one of the reasons they hung me for witchcraft. The men back then couldn't handle a woman who outdid them in business. When they couldn't get me to marry one of them so they could buy or steal my property and holdings, I was accused of witchcraft. It had nothing to do with religion and everything to do with money and greed. I guess humiliation and revenge against me for getting the better of several of the town's elite in business was another motivation. Those gray haired old bastards don't take losing money kindly, especially not to a woman. They didn't then, they still don't in this day and age. After I get my power and my new body, I'll track down the descendants of all of those old bastards and kill every one of them. I'll also destroy all of their bones and take their spirits.
"You only need one body, but it's good to have a spare. What would happen if the day comes and you can't force the woman's should out of that body. After all she is a really powerful witch to be able to contain all of your new power. If you can't have that body, the second one will be just as useful, if not as long lasting. And it will help to bind your vampire servant to you."
I still didn't trust the voice, but I did believe a part of what he said. Papa Tulu would love the opportunity to go after the nun.
I was just rising as the moon settled high in the sky. It wasn't a full moon yet but it would be in time for all of the kids to go out trick or treating in a few nights. I went up on the roof of my building to enjoy one of those rare nights off. I looked down at the people on the neighborhood. Some of them were relaxing on their porches, while others, both those who lived here and those tourists who were brave enough to step off of the beaten path in the big easy, scurried about. I don't know how long I watched, but it must have been some time because the cigar I'd lit was down to nothing but ash and would've burned my lips in few moments if it hadn't happened.
The phone at my side hummed and I grabbed for it. I noticed that a lot of time had passed because it was full on darkness when I answered the phone. I shook my head wondering how someone like me could fall prey to someone like her. I thought for a long time that I was doomed, damned and detestable. As the song says, I wondered if I was too lost to be saved. But somehow in her eyes and in her arms and Good Lord, in her heart I'd found salvation.
"Piety?" I asked.
"Mason, this is Patience, we need your help..." I heard the sound of running and heavy breathing. Then I heard nothing. "Mason, Beaumont, come quick..." and then nothing again. Without a thought I was out of the apartment and onto my bike. The drive to Beaumont, Texas normally took about four hours. On my bike I could do it in three, but from the sound of things and Patience's voice I wasn't sure I'd be there in time. I pulled out the phone once I got to the freeway and dialed one handed while still driving as fast as I could. I called an old friend of mine who flew smuggling runs for drugs dealers. It took me twenty minutes to make it to his small private landing strip. And another twenty seconds to agree to his price. He wanted ten thousand dollars for a trip that would cost me no more than two hundred on a commercial liner. I agreed and we were heading for the plane less than twenty five minutes after I got the call.
As soon as we landed, I rolled my bike down the ramp and rode off into the night. I had no idea where to look or where to go. I tried Piety's phone again.
"Mason, we're hiding. Are you coming? We're cut off. We're hiding in a church on the east side."
"Patience, I'm in town," I hissed. "I need directions."
"Shhhh," she said. I was so quiet that I held my breath. "There are so many of them." She whispered directions to me and I googled them. I was there in less than ten minutes and I was pissed. I saw a church, but it looked as if it was abandoned and it was on fire. I knew that vampires wouldn't go near fire. I saw several big shaggy things that looked like overgrown dogs that stood on two legs.
I sped towards the church with the roar of my bike letting them all know I was coming.
I kicked one of the furry things as I rode past it. I jumped off of the bike and ran as close to the burned out church that I could get. Every instinct that I have, told me to get the fuck away from the flames. But I had to get to Piety. One of the huge furry dogs leaped at me. I snatched it out of the air and slammed its head onto the concert street.
I saw two figures emerge from the darkness near the church. The larger figure was Penance and she was in rough shape. She was struggling to carry another person. I grabbed the unconscious form of Patience from her arms.
"Where's Piety?" I asked roughly.
"He took her," she said slowly and softly.
"We'll talk on the road," I said. "Distance is our friend."
"We can't all fit on your bike," she said. From the look in her eyes Penance was barely conscious herself. She dropped to her knees and I put Patience down near her. I walked over to the nearest car I could find. It was an SUV, and a big one. I used my strength and overwhelmed the door lock. I put Patience in the second row of seats and lifted Penance into the passenger seat. I broke the ignition lock and started the car. I heard a howling behind me just as the big motor turned over.
I gave it some gas, just as two large furry forms emerged from the darkness ahead of us. I ran them down without a thought and drove into the night.
For the first few miles I was sure that some of them were on our tail. But once I got onto the freeway I knew that we were clear. I drove back to the airport. The plane was still there. I hustled Patience aboard and then went back for Penance who complained all the way about being touched.
After agreeing to another exorbitant fee the plane took off again. I knew I'd feel better once I had them in my territory. Let whatever had started this shit try to take me on my home turf.
Patience slept the entire flight. Penance awoke several times to look around, but I could tell that she was out on her feet. When we landed I got them into a cab and took off for one of my apartments near the French quarter. I laid Patience in the bed and called a nurse that I worked with to come and look them over. Patience had a concussion. Penance had a couple of bruised ribs, a huge lump on her head and several scrapes and claw marks.
She looked at me and for once she had nothing to say. "Penance, snap out of it," I spat. "You're tougher than this. Where the hell is Piety? What happened?"
"We got a call about another werewolf," she said slowly. "We didn't take it seriously. Piety didn't tell you because she wanted to surprise you. Since we were less than three hundred miles away from you, she planned to pop in on you. We went to the church as usual to start our investigation..." She looked at me then with eyes that had seen too much death.
"There were real werewolves Mason. They changed right in front of us. And it wasn't one. There were seven or eight of them. And there were vampires with them. You know how hard it is to take out one vampire. There were three. And Mason, I don't know how but they went into the church. One of the vampires was so old and so strong that he didn't burst into flames when he stepped inside. He set the church on fire. Everyone inside of it died.
We were outmanned and outgunned. We called our plane to get in touch with headquarters. Every person on our support squad was dead too. Somehow they knew all about us. They knew exactly how we operate. They had us cut off and surrounded so we had no choice but to fight. The old vampire promised us a deal. He swore it would be a fair fight. The three of us would fight against him. If we won, we all got to go free.
I swung my mace at him, intending to crush his skull. He ducked under it and when it was over his head, he grabbed it in mid-air. He threw me across the field using my own mace. He snapped the shaft of it and threw it over his shoulder like it was a toy. Patience took several shot at him with her crossbow. She was trying to end things quickly, but really the idea was to get his attention so Piety could take him out.
Mason it was as if he'd practiced for it. He ducked the crossbow bolts and then slammed his huge fist into Piety's chest. She went down hard clutching at her chest. She was out like a light. He just looked at us and smiled then. When he looked at Piety, he got angry. Mason he spoke. He's like you. He's a sentient vampire but he's filled with evil. He picked up Piety and looked at her face. Then he looked at us.
"What the fuck is going on here?" he asked us. "I knew something was off when I watched you in New Orleans. She isn't the one. She's some kind of clone or something. If you want her back. If you care for this broken little toy, bring me the real one and bring her to the spot where you first killed one of my offspring." Then he left taking Piety with him. He picked up Patience's phone before he left. We tried to follow him, Mason. That was why the werewolves attacked us. I'm not sure if he controls them or not, because they were trying to kill us for sure."
"What was he talking about when he called her a clone? And where is the place he's talking about?" I asked.
"The only other vampire that we've seen beside the one you helped us with that was this strong, was a couple of years ago in Chicago. After that case our original third member retired and Piety took her place afterwards. Piety kind of patterned herself after Prudence, so from a distance it's easy to see why the vamp might've thought they were the same person."
I got up and made a few phone calls. The sun was coming up. "You're welcome to anything in this apartment," I said. "There's food and drinks in the refrigerator. There's more than enough money to get you back to your headquarters and the phones all work. The sun will be up in an hour or so. It's Autumn, so it'll get dark quickly again. Tomorrow night as soon as the sun goes down I'm going to Chicago."
"Mason, there's only one of you. You'll die. Wait for us to contact headquarters. We'll take care of this. You got us out of it. Even though you're a man ... and a vamp, I guess you're okay. I don't want you to die."
"Penance, I was dead before you were born," I said. "But without Piety in my life, I'd be truly dead. I'll die without her anyway. I have no choice."
"Then stop by and pick me up before you go," she said. I nodded and went back to my real house.
I was lost in thought, wondering how the hell I'd gotten myself into this one. It had seemed like such a normal run of the mill divorce case at first. Now I found myself questioning things that I hadn't thought about in years. I smiled as I realized that Chris was, as usual, beside me holding my hand. It said a lot about us that we were so comfortable together. I looked across the room and everywhere I looked I saw varying degrees of red hair.
My aunt Angela, whom I love, despite the fact that she creeps me out sometimes, was lecturing Rebecca. Savannah was looking on and soaking up everything that Angels tried to teach Rebecca. Savannah and I got along well. Savannah unlike the other two was more of a listener than a talker. She was also far craftier than anyone gave her credit for. I wondered why Savannah was even here. Then I realized that she was here for the one thing that motivated her all of the time; her family. Savannah apparently believed that there was enough of a chance that this could all be true that she had taken steps to assure that her husband Greg and her kids were safe.
Savannah always did whatever the hell she wanted. So in that way she was just like the rest of us. But she only seemed to be forceful or driven when it came to Greg. I remember when I first got the announcement that my cousin was getting married. I dreaded the thought of going down south, but after hearing from Angela the story of how Savannah was getting married, I had to see it myself. I imagined that she'd live in some sort of run down shack, like the one I'd visited her in once or twice during summers when I was young.
I was shocked to find that Savannah lived in a compound that contained several houses and manufacturing businesses. The main house was a beautiful old pre civil war mansion that had been fully restored and modernized. When Chris, who's a big football fan, had seen Savannah's fiancé, he had gone ballistic.
"That's Greg Gates," he screamed. "You have Greg Gates at your wedding!"
"It was kind of important that he be here," smirked Savannah. I'd known Savannah all of my life and I had NEVER seen her like that. She positively glowed.
"You want to meet him?" she asked Chris. My normally laid back husband stood there nodding his head up and down like one of those dashboard dog figures.
Savannah crooked her finger in Greg's direction and he excused himself from the people he was talking to and came right over to us. The closer he got, the bigger he got. He was way over six feet tall and extremely muscular. His caramel brown skin contrasted starkly with that of the child he carried in his arms. Despite his size, he was really shy. He backed up when Chris started telling him who he was and what he'd done on the football field.
The child, that I recognized from pictures that Savannah had sent us about a year ago, was obviously Savannah's daughter Gigi. Savannah reached out to take her so Greg and Chris could talk but the little girl gripped the lapel of Greg's jacket and held on for dear life. She set her little lip and dug in she was where she wanted to be and nothing was going to dislodge her.
Chris was firing question after question at Greg, who politely answered them all. "Did you know that Savannah is my cousin?" asked Chris, as Savannah looked on laughing. "Well ... by marriage, but that still counts, right?" Greg nodded.
"So how did Savannah get YOU to come to her wedding?" asked Chris.
"She's kind of marrying me," said Greg softly. Chris bit his tongue and then erupted. Greg sensed danger to the little girl in his arms so he turned moving his body between her and my husband whom he considered a nut case. I think that Greg expected, like some people down south, that Chris might not like the idea of a black guy marrying Savannah.
"Oh my God," screamed Chris loudly. Savannah narrowed her eyes and stiffened.
"Greg Gates is my cousin," screamed Chris at the top of his lungs. He went all over the room explaining it to anyone who would listen.
"He's a nice guy," said Greg.
"Very," I answered smiling.
"He's kind of excitable," said Savannah.
"Very," I said still smiling.
As I put the memory away, I noticed Evie with her feet propped up in a corner. She was talking on her phone and listening to her music at the same time. We had strict rules about not contacting anyone until this was over. Evie had obviously called her husband, Chance, anyway. Evie has always had a thing about rules.
It was beginning to get dark outside, but I knew that we had plenty of time. Nothing ever happened with Rebecca until about midnight. I decided to get some sleep when all hell broke loose. Rebecca suddenly just stood up and headed for the door. Angela tried to stop her but then remembered what the plan was. I looked at Rebecca and the shy retiring woman I'd come to know was gone. Her face was a robot-like mask with no expression and seemingly no human emotions. There was something else. There seemed to be a voice in the back of my head, calling to me. It seemed to want me to give it something that I was sure I didn't have. It was the same creature that had screeched at me from the night before. Only this time it was trying to charm me. Angela had her hand against her head. I knew the thing was talking to her at the same time. A check of my cousins told me that they were getting it too.
The voice was soft and soothing, it was seductive. Then I felt Chris squeeze my hand and I realized what I'd be giving up. I stopped listening to the voice and just tuned it out. It was at that moment that I realized that whether or not I believed in this shit, it was real and it was happening.