Chapter 3

“So what do we do? Turn into bats?” asked Caroline.

“Nay, that would take too long. Though I am fond of flapping around their heads as a bat, grabbing at their hair. Drives ‘em batty.” He grinned. “Did you hear the joke I made? Drives ‘em batty?”

“Great joke,” said Caroline. “How do we fly?”

“Well, you imagine you’re flying, and where you want to go and that’s pretty much it,” he said. “Here, hold my hand the first time. I don’t want to have to hunt all over the place to find you if we imagine different destinations. In fact, I’ll let you guide us, since you know where these pirates lie in wait.”

“Okay,” said Caroline, nervously. “I just think about where we want to go?”

“Think about pirates, and wanting to see them,” he said.

She took his hand and closed her eyes. She thought of the map she’d seen in her World History class, and concentrated on the Arabian Sea just off The Horn of Africa.

She felt like she was floating instantly, but felt no wind or other evidence she was moving. She opened her eyes and was astonished to see they were hovering over an expanse of blue ocean. She looked to her right, at Bob, who seemed to be peering around them.

“I’m afraid to let go of your hand,” she said.

“No matter,” he said, brusquely. “If we get separated, just think of the cabin. I’ll be back eventually.”

“But I want to stay with you,” she said. “To watch ... and learn.”

“Then think of me and you’ll stay with me.”

“I know the piracy happens in this sea,” she said, “But not how to find them.”

“I have a nose for pirates,” said Bob. He smiled and Caroline saw his fangs were at full erection. He peered around again and then stopped. “There,” he said, softly.

She could gauge their movement, now, by watching the whitecaps on the surface of the water. They zipped astonishingly fast and then stopped, with no jerk, as if they had no mass. Below them was a ship. It looked like it had been painted blue and white at one time, but there was more rust than paint on it now. It was built up at the back, maybe two stories, with a flat deck in front of that that had an awning over part of it, and a tower or mast of some kind at the front. Dark bodies were lounging around on the deck. There were two small speedboats floating beside the ship tied there on long ropes.

“An odd looking vessel,” said Bob.

“It’s powered by a motor, rather than sails,” said Caroline, helpfully, “and it’s made of metal, not wood.”

“What matters is that it be crewed by mortal men,” said Bob.

“How do you know they’re pirates?” asked Caroline.

“There’s a pirate stink to them,” said Bob. “Come. We’ll listen to them for a bit.”

Caroline didn’t object that they probably spoke a language she couldn’t understand. Nor did she worry that the pirates might see them. Bob wouldn’t take her into a situation where she could be hurt.

Could she be hurt? How about a wooden stake through the heart? What would that do?

She was about to ask when, suddenly, they were lying on top of the awning, under which a group of men were eating. To her amazement Bob pressed his face through the awning. She recognized that as a ghostly skill she’d learned from Gertrude. She did the same thing and stared at the men.

She blinked with surprise when she found she could understand them perfectly.

At first they chatted as any group of men gathered for a meal might talk. A short time later another man approached and told them that the prize was close enough to engage, but that they were waiting for darkness. The men acknowledged him and went back to eating.

Caroline glanced to her left, but Bob’s face was gone. She pulled her own back and looked around. She found him twenty or so feet above her, beckoning. When she joined him, he spoke.

“As I thought. They plan mischief.”

“Tonight,” said Caroline.

“Then we wait,” said Bob. “They think darkness is their friend. Tonight they find out differently.”

Caroline assumed they’d float around, waiting for darkness, and that it would be boring. She was wrong. Bob took her hand and, in the blink of an eye, they were back in his cabin.

“No sense wasting time,” he said.

Food appeared on the table. Bob asked how to obtain more of the cold cans that contained the brew that burned his throat so wonderfully. Caroline taught him the name of the drink and soon there were twelve cans of it on the table. Bob opened one and tipped it up, letting it pour into his open mouth. He only got half down before the burn was too much and he had to pause.

“You’ve spoiled me, woman,” he said, patting his stomach. He belched loudly and looked surprised.

“And you won’t get drunk when you drink it,” said Caroline, munching on a chicken drumstick.

“Alas, that’s something one can’t do here,” said Bob. “I can drink rum until it spurts out my ears, and I don’t even get tipsy.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” said Caroline. “Otherwise the place would be full of drunks.”

“Well it’s not,” said Bob. “There be other things for a man to think on.”

“Such as?”

Bob just stared at her. His eyes seemed to get bigger and became luminous.

“Hold it right there, buster,” said Caroline.

“There’s no danger,” said Bob. “I can’t turn you into a vampire. There’s no barrier to frolicking again ... if you’ve a mind to.”

“The first time was scary enough,” she said.

“I sensed it was a good experience for you,” said Bob. “Other than the little bump where I bit you. But since you’ve been given the powers of a vampire, surely there can be no harm in seeking some pleasure.”

“Okay, you’re right. I had a good time. Other than the almost dying part. But you’re forgetting one, little thing.”

“And that is?”

“Doing that is how a woman gets pregnant.”

“Alas, as a man cannot get drunk here, neither can he get a woman with child. That pleasure is restricted to mortals.”

“Which I am,” pointed out Caroline.

“By technicality you may be called such,” said Bob. “But clearly you have powers no mortal has. Perhaps your mortality has been suspended, held safely where it can be re-installed in your lovely body when you return to your own world. I’ll be very sad when that happens, you should know.”

“You have a silver tongue,” said Caroline.

“Impossible,” said Bob. “It would burn my mouth.”

“So it’s true? Silver hurts vampires?”

“Indeed,” said Bob.

“What about the stake through the heart thing?” she asked.

“That’s true, too,” said Bob.

“So it’s dangerous to be a vampire,” said Caroline.

“Not at all,” said Bob. “No vampire worth his salt will sit still long enough for someone to press silver against him, or drive a stake through his heart. You’ve seen how we travel. If anyone threatens you, then go elsewhere.”

“Nice of you to tell me that before we go back to the pirates,” said Caroline, sarcastically.

“I would never let harm befall you,” said Bob, looking hurt. “You are in my care.”

“Okay,” sighed Caroline. “I guess you have been pretty good to me.” She smiled. “Not counting the biting and almost killing me part.”

“If I bit you again, it would be different,” he said, softly.

“How?” she asked.

“Remember the passion of our joining?”

She nodded. She remembered that well.

“Biting is a product of passion. It transfers passion from one to another. It is very much like what happens during lovemaking. The woman receives a man’s passion when he spurts. At that point they are joined irrevocably. When I bite my lover, her passion passes to me in the same way. Her blood tastes of passion. My fangs, meanwhile, transfer my passion to her. And if you bit me, it would be the same. What happened between us was that the passion was uncontrolled. Lovemaking can be done with controlled passion, if two people are willing.”

“So the stories about vampires killing their victims are about sucking the passion out of the body?”

“Usually not. Sometimes a vampire simply feeds. It can be his intent to kill, to slake his thirst at the expense of another. He cares not that he damns his victim to eternal misery.”

“Are you miserable?” asked Caroline.

“I would say mostly not,” said Bob. “But those who cannot control their passions are not allowed to wreak havoc. They are...” He looked uncomfortable. “miserable,” he finished. “It’s better if one is not a vampire all the time. It’s good to have friends. It’s especially good when one gets to spend so much time in the presence of beauty, charm and poise.”

“Did they teach you flattery in school?” laughed Caroline.

“You pick things up over the years,” said Bob.

“So we could do ... that ... and I wouldn’t go down into the darkness?” asked Caroline.

“There are things I have yet to teach you,” said Bob. “One technique is quite helpful when a vampire simply wants to enjoy sex.”

“You’re making it hard to say no,” said Caroline.

“I don’t want you to say no,” said Bob.

“What is this technique?” she asked.

“It is a joining of the minds,” said Bob. “We become one, together. It’s hard to describe, but my essence will be with your essence, and can keep you from entering the darkness.”

“It sounds ... intimate,” sighed Caroline.

“Making love with a vampire is the most intimate thing one can do,” said Bob.

Caroline reflected on how much her life had changed in so short a time. What seemed like just a weekend ago she’d been a normal, every-day girl, going to a normal every-day school, with normal, every-day parents. She’d had normal, every-day problems and normal every-day feelings.

Now, suddenly, she was in an impossible place, with the powers of both a ghost and a vampire, contemplating using those powers to attack a band of ruthless pirates.

All that was fine. Even if all that was the stuff of dreams and fantasies.

But just a weekend ago she’d been a virgin, and the process through which that had changed was not the stuff of dreams. Bob was right. Making love with a vampire really was the most intimate thing she’d ever done.

And right now ... she could do it again.

She looked at him, sitting there, looking so normal. His living conditions were anachronistic, but he’d adopted a more modern, normal appearance.

There was a little gray at his temples. In some ways he reminded her of a handsome teacher she hadn’t met yet. It felt distinctively odd to ruminate about taking her clothes off and letting this fully adult man push his fully adult penis into her unarguably adolescent vagina.

But she’d already shared something with this man she could never forget. She was pretty sure she would never feel that with another man again.

Not even Bob.

It had been the most tumultuously joyful, and scary and ... she couldn’t think of a word superlative enough to label it.

She closed her eyes and remembered an outfit she’d seen in a window. When she opened her eyes and looked down, she was wearing it. The fabulously thin and lacy bra held her breasts up, seeming to offer them to the viewer, like some delicacy ready to be consumed. The front panel of the panties bulged with her blond pubes, some of which were poking out around the edges. She grinned as she remembered seeing an episode of an old black and white TV series about a goofy man and a genie. She nodded her head once and the panties seemed to deflate. She knew that, if she looked, her pubis would be smooth and bare. She wondered if Bob had ever seen a shaved pussy, and looked at him.