The Lady Or The Vampire
by Autolycus, maynlinz@earthlink.net
A genetically altered woman battles the undead to save her lover.


This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons is only a figment of
your imaginations. Let's face it, we all wish these babes were real! Anyway,
they're not, so go take a nice cold shower.

BABES IN SPYLAND V:

THE LADY OR THE VAMPIRE

(c) 1997 Autolycus

Here's the deal: This is the story of a genetically altered female who is not
only a perfect physical specimen, but also has psychic abilities. She was
created by the US government to be the ultimate espionage agent, although her
creator/father, the late Dr. Smitrovich, didn't know that at the time. She was
seized by an ultra-secret anti-terrorist government agency, the Aegis Group,
and (ultimately, but against her will) trained in martial arts and other forms
of combat, although she refuses to kill anybody, which drives the head of the
AG, General Armitage Winsome, absolutely nuts. By the way, her name is Jessica
Chance and this is her encounter with an ancient vampire named Lady Ophelia.

/|\^..^/|\ For Vampirella /|\^..^/|\

I pressed myself to the slimy walls of the sewer, allowing the rats coming
toward me to scurry by on the narrow walkway. Once the rodents had disappeared
into the darkness behind me, I resumed my careful trek and cautiously
continued down the dank corridor. The air in the sewer was the worst I had
ever breathed, and it had a peculiar, fetid odor that was more common to
morgues than to drainage conduits. But, then again, that only goes to show
that I'm on the right track. After all, one would hardly expect to find the
nobility of the undead in any sort of decent locale.

"Undead," I said aloud with a slight, and definitely nervous, laugh, my
cracking voice echoing eerily off the brackish water and moss-covered walls.

Get a grip, girl! Kendra's life, no, her very soul depends on you. This is no
time to start freaking out over the implications that the undead are real, and
not just the products of hack writers.

As if to illustrate the reality of my thoughts, a pair of gray-skinned forms
shambled into view from around a bend in the tunnel. I knew they were
undead--Zombies, to be precise--right away for two reasons: 1) I couldn't read
their minds, and 2) They were obviously the source of the rotting smell.

Gagging slightly, I removed the bulky pack from my shoulders and prepared to
meet their slow, but relentless, charge. They were both women, or at least had
been once. One had the remains of a party dress from the late 18th century on
her decaying, once voluptuous, form. What little hair remained, stray tufts
here and there on her misshapen skull, was mostly gray, but enough brown hairs
remained to indicate she had once been a brunette. Her dead eyes stared past
me, or through me, maybe, but not at me, never at me. Nevertheless, she was
coming straight toward me, heedless of the filthy water she was wading through
and the rat seated on her shoulder, nibbling at the ragged flesh of what used
to be her left ear.

The other one was wearing an outfit from the latter half of the last century:
A mini-skirt, complete with hip-high go-go boots, dirty yellow in color, and a
wide belt made from the same material. Her once plentiful chest now sagged
like two socks filled with dirt, barely noticeable beneath the remnants of the
silk blouse she was wearing. Her blonde hair was also falling out, but enough
remained that she was still able to wear it in a long pony tail. Unlike her
partner, she was coming at me along the walkway I was standing on, and her
eyes, still faded blue in color, as opposed to the white, lifeless ones of the
other zombie, were fixed on me.

I realized that I'd seen these two before as they approached and thought back
to a week ago, before the present nightmare had started.

I landed at Charles de Gaulle International Airport outside of Paris and,
after breezing through customs, thanks to my affiliation with the Aegis Group,
saw Kendra waving to me, a huge smile on her face. I've got to admit that I
probably had just as big a smile on my face, too, as we embraced, hugging each
other tightly and letting our lips get reacquainted.

When we finally let go, I stepped back and we checked each other out, to make
sure there had been no major changes in the past two weeks. Or, just because
we really liked looking at each other.

I'm 5'10" tall with gorgeous green eyes and red hair, not carrot-top red, mind
you, more of a russet/sunset sort of red, that hangs to the middle of my back.
Very striking, but in a soft, subdued sort of way. My measurements are
34-28-36 and I'm a C-cup, although, I have to tell you that my breasts have
this conical shape to them which makes them stand out and look bigger than
your average C-cup. I'm proud to say that there is very little fat on my body,
just enough to make me curved in all the right places, if you know what I
mean. Not that I look like a body-builder, not at all. I have muscles, just
ask any of the ladies I've been in fights with, but my physique is more like
that of a dancer: Well-toned and tight; the muscles are there, but they're so
compact that with my clothes on you don't see how well defined I am.

Kendra is a little shorter than I am, coming in just under 5'7", with tawny
hair the color of freshly cut hay that hangs to just below her shoulders and
deep blue eyes. You know, the kind of eyes you can easily lose yourself in,
even behind her wire-frame glasses. Her measurements are--And don't you dare
tell her that I told you, or I'll be in big trouble!--32-26-34 and she's a
B-cup, but her breasts are so perfect, so round and soft, that it wouldn't
matter if she were an A-cup. She has one of those deceptive bodies, you know
the type: Looks like a librarian, hits like a linebacker. She even fooled me
when we first met; I thought she was this mousy little woman who couldn't hold
her own in a pillow fight. Then, she saved my life and I realized that she was
a lot stronger than she looked. When we finally made love for the first time,
I was surprised at how firm she was. Before she loosened up, thanks to my
expertise as a masseuse, it was like caressing a bronze sculpture. And when
she playfully locked her legs around my waist and squeezed, it felt like I was
in a steel vice.

Anyway, we picked up my luggage and then headed for the hotel she'd booked us
a room in. On the way to the hotel, I asked how her brother was doing and she
informed me that he was in Ireland, dealing with a renegade remnant of the
long-disbanded IRA which called itself The New Erin Army.

"He'll be all right," I assured her.

"I don't know, Jessi, these are some pretty nasty people," she sighed, the
concern apparent in her sparkling blue eyes.

"He's dealt with nasty people before," I reminded her.

She smiled at that and then fell silent.

"Hey! This is supposed to be a vacation," I teased, leaning over and playfully
licking her temple. "No shop talk."

"All right, all right," she laughed, pushing me away, but giving me one of
those looks which made me realize why I was so attracted to her.

"So, what's on the agenda? Are we gonna do all the typical tourist-type
things?" I asked, glancing out the window of the rental car and marveling at
the well-named "City of Lights."

"Well, I thought we'd pretty much spend the entire two weeks in our hotel
room, making love until we couldn't stand up, even if we had the energy to
crawl out of bed, which we won't," she replied matter-of-factly.

"Sounds like a plan," I nodded.

We looked sidelong at each other and then both burst out laughing.

"Actually, tonight we're going dancing at a disco not far from our hotel," she
informed me. "I can't wait to get you out on the dance floor."

"Dance floor?" I gulped. "Um, Kendra, I, er, that is to say, the Angel Team
never bothered teaching me to dance, and, to be blunt, the need hasn't really
presented itself thus far in my counter-espionage career."

"Liar. I read your file, including the interviews conducted with the Angel
Team members after it was disbanded," she stated.

"You read my file?!" I exclaimed in mock-horror. Of course, I had also read
her file--Interesting stuff, but none of your business--and I had fully
expected her to read mine, just not to admit it.

"Naturally. So, I know that you can dance, and love to waltz in particular,
and that you're also an old movie junkie, being especially fond of old
musicals featuring Fred Astaire, Gene Kelly or John Travolta," she smiled.

"Why, you sneaky, little...I'm tempted not to give you the present I brought
for you," I pouted, and quite sexily I might add. I've got these beautiful,
full lips, just made for pouting.

"Oh! No fair! Are you going to sit there and honestly tell me that you didn't
read my file, too?" she huffed, looking pretty sexy herself.

"No. I mean, how else would I have known how much you love Elvis Presley and
gotten you one of his original white suits, complete with the little cape,
that he wore in the years before his death while performing in Las Vegas," I
said casually, glancing over to see her reaction.

It's a good thing I did, too, because her eyes got enormous and she turned and
threw her arms around me and kissed me so hard I could barely concentrate
enough to control the wheel telekinetically and keep the car on the road.

"Oh, thank you, Jessi! Thank you, thank you very much," she added in what had
to be one of the worst Elvis impersonations I'd ever heard.

"Thank me later, Kendra. Right now, I'd appreciate it if you would just drive
the car," I replied.

"Yipe! I forgot all about that," she said, taking the wheel.

"You're just lucky I didn't," I smiled.

We managed to make it to the hotel without further incident and, after an
intense bout of love-making--Following Kendra's presentation of her gift to
me: One of the actual "H"'s Chris Barrie had used as the hologram "Rimmer" on
Red Dwarf, sealed in plastic and including Mr. Barrie's autograph; it was one
of my favorite TV shows from the last century--we headed out and had dinner at
a charming street-side cafe before making our way to the disco.

"The Kinky Cat?" I translated, looking up at the flickering neon sign over the
large double doors.

"Trevor suggested it," she shrugged. "Said he had an absolute ball last time
he was here and that he thought we'd get a kick out of it."

I just scowled and didn't say anything as we entered the darkened confines of
the club.

"Interesting clientele," I noted as we suddenly found ourselves surrounded by
people who made us look like we were preparing for an Arctic expedition.

I was wearing this darling two piece outfit which exposed my navel, showing
off my iron abs, and Kendra was wearing a one piece mini with no back, which
showed off the small yin/yang symbol tattooed on her left shoulder. Everyone
else, however, was practically naked, attired in clothing more appropriate to
a beach than a dance club.

"I can see why Trevor enjoyed this place," she grinned, pointing out the
numerous women who had foregone the tops of their outfits altogether and were
dancing with only G-strings and shoes, which didn't look as weird as it
sounded, given that a lot of the men were doing the same thing.

"We don't have to stay, if you'd rather not," she shouted above the electronic
funk which passed for music, giving me an out.

But, I could tell that she wanted to stay and at least have one dance, so I
shook my head. "No, I think it's quaint," I shouted, grinning. "Let's grab a
table and then wait for something we can dance to."

"What's wrong with this?" she yelled back.

I couldn't tell if she was kidding or not, but I hoped she was. I just grabbed
her by the arm and dragged her to the closest table I could find near the
dance floor.

"Spoilsport," she teased, sitting down across from me and sticking out her
tongue.

A scantily-clad waitress came up and asked what we wanted and we ordered two
drinks, orange juice for me and a thick, dark ale for Kendra, and then watched
the dancers for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of being with one
another, our hands tightly clasped across the table.

"You know, Jessi," she shouted, squeezing my hands and locking eyes with me
when I looked up, "after what Trevor told me about that 'memory' you planted
in his brain, I sort of figured you were at least bi, if not flat-out hetero,
and just playing along with the Cowgirls as part of your cover."

"I've been meaning to explain that to you," I shouted back. "I was still
questioning my sexuality when I met Trevor. See, up until that point the only
sexual experience I'd had was being forcibly raped up the ass by another
woman-" I suddenly stopped, realizing that the music had ceased and that the
place had become extremely quiet. Only the echo of my voice could be heard as
it bounced around the room.

Kendra was actually blushing--She looked so adorable that I wanted to take her
back to the hotel that very minute. In retrospect, I wish I had. Anyway, we
both looked around and saw these two women who had apparently caused the
abrupt quiet.

One was a tall brunette, standing 6' if she stood an inch, with her hair
hanging freely to the middle of her back, but in wild disarray, making it look
like a mane. She was wearing a red velvet catsuit which had a circular patch
of material removed right in the middle of her chest, exposing the cleavage of
her large, round breasts invitingly. She was sleek-looking, but even from a
distance, I could see the way her lithe frame filled the suit, causing the
muscles in her arms and legs in particular to bulge in high relief. Ankle-high
red boots and elbow length red gloves, and a golden medallion in the shape of
a wolf's head, resting neatly in the cleft between her breasts, completed her
outfit.

The other was a stone fox muscle-goddess that made her partner look positively
skinny. She was shorter, maybe 5' 6", and her long, shocking white hair was
done up in a towering pile, with delicate ringlets dropping down on either
side, framing her pale, almost pink eyes. She was wearing a one piece leather
outfit that looked like it had been painted on, as the delicious curve of each
and every muscle was plainly visible, from her rock hard forearms to her
softball calves. The garment itself was cut neatly down the middle of her
front, held together only by a slender black cord which criss-crossed from her
throat to her navel. Her face was stunning, with high cheek bones and blood
red lips against an almost white complexion, leading me to suspect at first
that she was an albino. But, for all her muscular bulges, the ones which
attracted the most attention were her breasts: Bigger even than the brunette's
and made even more inviting by the way the binding failed to flatten them in
the least. Finally, black boots which reached to mid-calf and a narrow, white
belt, with a clasp in the shape of a golden bat, capped her ensemble.

They walked directly to the center of the dance floor, the crowd clearing a
path for them, like the Red Sea parting before Moses, and the music instantly
resumed and they began to dance. A very erotic, amazing dance, in which they
regularly intertwined their bodies so tightly that only the different colors
of their outfits told them apart. The shorter one at times seemed to literally
float several inches off the ground as she and the brunette twirled around
each other.

After a moment, the other patrons resumed their own dancing, not even
bothering to try to compete with the stunning pair of women.

"Who are they?" Kendra asked our waitress when she returned with our drinks.

The server grinned. "Ophelia is the one with the white hair and her friend is
Lupe. They've been regulars here for years," she explained, setting our drinks
down. "Nice ladies, but Lupe can get a little rough when she dances with
anyone other than Ophelia. Still, they're great tippers, and a treat to watch,
so nobody seems to mind a bit of bruising."

"I can understand that," she sighed, never taking her eyes off the pair as
they glided effortlessly around the room.

"Hey!" I said, squeezing her hand a bit tighter than was probably necessary.
"Remember me? The gal who came across the ocean to spend some time with you?
Yo! Earth to Kendra?"

"Ouch! That hurt, Jessi," she said, pulling her hand away from mine and
rubbing it. "Jealously is something I do not find attractive or endearing in
friends or lovers. If you can't trust me enough to not let me look, we may
have problems."

"I'm sorry," I said quickly. "I'm new at this whole 'significant other' stuff,
but I'm doing the best I can. Am I forgiven?" I batted my long lashes and gave
her the most pathetic, sorrowful look I could manage.

She tried not to laugh, I'll give her that much, but it was no use. She burst
out giggling and then grabbed my hand. "On one condition," she said, motioning
to the dance floor with her eyes and head. "One dance and then we go back to
the hotel, finish that talk, and then make love all night long."

I stood up and kissed her, snaking my hand around and giving her ass an
affectionate squeeze.

"Or we could always finish that talk tomorrow," she sighed when we finally
pulled apart.

I followed her out onto the floor and we danced for the first time. It was
wonderful. She slid up and down my body, both facing me and rubbing her rump
sexily against my groin, reaching back and caressing my breasts at the same
time. While I ran my own hands down her top and playfully fondled hers in
return.

Then, we both sort of stopped at once and opened our eyes and saw Ophelia
standing a few feet in front of us, watching with a hungry sort of look in her
eyes as Kendra stood up and straightened her dress.

She held out her hand, inviting Kendra to join her, a faint smile on her thin,
but nevertheless enticing lips.

"She's with me, lady," I said loudly, and in perfect French. "Find yourself
another partner." I put my hand on Kendra's shoulder and turned to head for
the exit only to find Lupe blocking my way.

"My mistress would very much like to dance with your friend," she said in
French, but with a definite Spanish accent. "I suggest you let her."

"And I suggest that your mistress-" I began, my blood starting to boil a bit.

"Jessi!" Kendra scolded, pulling away from me. "I don't think one dance would
hurt." She turned back to Ophelia and grasped her hand. "I would be delighted
to dance with you."

Ophelia slightly bowed her head and escorted Kendra to the center of the dance
floor and they danced. And what a dance it was! At times, I would have sworn
that they were both literally floating as they sailed around the floor and
each other.

"Your friend seems to be enjoying herself," Lupe said into my ear, with what I
thought sounded like a hint of envy.

I remained silent, watching as my lover and Ophelia embraced and continued to
whirl around the room.

Then, I turned and headed toward the bar, finding that for the first time in
my life I felt like I needed a drink.

I never got one.

The song ended before I could push my way through the crowd, and then, there
wasn't any crowd. I knew before turning around that Ophelia and Kendra were
behind me. And, sure enough, when I did swing around, I saw Ophelia kissing
Kendra's hand and then walking away, back into the crowd, which closed behind
her, swallowing her it seemed.

"Hey! Where were you going?" Kendra asked, smiling but somehow distant. "You
never finished your first OJ. Going for a second already?"

"Actually, I was thinking of something a little stronger," I admitted, feeling
a bit foolish.

"Look, I'm sorry about dancing with Ophelia, but it was something I wanted to
do, and if it upset you, then, I'm sorry," she said, grinning and kissing me
sweetly on the cheek. "What do you say we go back to our room and make wild
monkey love until we collapse from sheer exhaustion?"

"Sounds great," I grinned. "But tomorrow night, we're coming back and I'm
going to treat you to a dance that will put all thoughts of Ophelia out of
your mind," I promised, staring into her sapphire eyes.

"Who?" she teased, giggling.

"Right," I played along, grabbing her hand and leading her to the exit.

When we returned to the club the next evening--After a night of the most
passionate and intimate love-making I had ever witnessed, let alone been a
part of, and a day filled with seeing the sights of "Gay Paree"--it was still
early and our waitress, a voluptuous blonde this time, said that Ophelia and
Lupe were never there before 10 p.m. I glanced at my watch and saw that we had
at least an hour. Not that I expected anything to happen, since Kendra and I
had spent a good part of the day talking to each other and really getting to
know the "number behind the name"--While I didn't have a number as such, I
made the mistake of telling Kendra that my code name was still registered as
"Angel" and she took to calling me by that, or a diminutive form thereof. She,
on the other hand, did have an actual number ("Some traditions never change in
England," she explained with a chuckle.): 0063; the double "0" indicating that
she had a license to kill in the course of duty if necessary. "So far," she
told me with obvious relief, "it hasn't been necessary." She did carry a gun,
a 9mm Beretta Pistola Automatica, and was a skilled markswoman she assured me.
When I explained about my own moral code, she asked, "I know you have the
skills necessary to kill," rubbing her fingers against my iron bicep, "the
question therefore is: Under what circumstances would you kill?" I shook my
head. "None." "Not even to save my life? Or to avenge my death, if it came to
that?" she asked in a not-quite teasing manner. I had answered that there were
always alternatives to killing to prevent killing, and that if she were
already dead no good would come of killing her murderer, other than to place
even more guilt upon myself for another life lost. She wasn't entirely happy
with my reasoning, and, truth to tell, neither was I.

I began to see Kendra as a tool which the General, and any others who wished
to control me, could possibly use against me, and I did not like that at all.

Not that I saw Kendra only as a tool. Not at all. She was still my lover,
confidant, and, especially, my friend, but a new element had been tossed into
the mixture of my life and I had to deal with it however best I could. Without
letting it change the fundamental dynamics of who I am. For better or worse,
as the doomed Polonius had instructed the equally doomed Laertes in
Shakespeare's "Hamlet," I had to remain true to myself, above all else.

Anyway, like I said, I didn't expect anything to happen if Ophelia and Lupe
showed up.

Boy, was I wrong.

Kendra and I danced several times in that wonderful hour, each one more fun
and exciting than the last, until we ended up in each other's arms, our lips
locked, barely moving, oblivious to the other dancers as they occasionally
bumped into us.

Then, the music stopped and we felt the others backing away from us as two
distinct sets of heels click-clacked across the floor.

I reluctantly pulled away from Kendra's face and saw Ophelia and Lupe standing
before us.

Ophelia was wearing a very similar costume this evening, except that it was a
two piece suit of black leather: A bustier-like top and mini, her six-pack abs
clearly visible in the gap between the two pieces.

Lupe was wearing a knee-length skirt of blue satin and a matching blouse with
a plunging "V" neckline that showed off her breasts nicely.

For our part, Kendra was wearing a green dress-shirt and shorts combination,
accented by a motley scarf around her throat, and I was wearing a red and
white horizontally striped sweater and black mini skirt, with black fishnet
stockings and a red scarf around my throat.

Ophelia held out her hand and I smirked, expecting Kendra to politely decline
and continue our dance.

Instead, she took the hand and, without even looking back, glided off with the
blonde woman.

Flustered, it took me a moment to react, but by then Lupe had stepped in front
of me. "Shall we dance, senorita?" she smiled, holding out her hand in a poor
imitation of her mistress' elegant gesture.

I stared at her, noting her beauty was underscored by a savagery I had never
encountered. And, she was a very beautiful woman.

"Why not?" I smiled after a moment.

"Gracias,..." she paused, waiting for my name.

"Jessica," I replied as we moved out onto the dance floor.

"I am Lupe, Jessica," she grinned, exposing her white teeth. I thought at the
time that they looked a bit larger than usual, and sharper, but didn't think
much of it.

"Do not worry about your friend," she informed me, some contempt creeping into
her sultry voice. "My mistress tires of all women very quickly."

"Except for you, eh, Lupe?" I questioned, smiling.

"Si, except for Lupe. We are bound by ties stronger than love, stronger even
than death," she said with a far-away look in her dark eyes.

Then, the music changed and became a heart-pounding mixture of screaming
electronics and floor-thumping bass and Lupe grabbed me and began to spin me
around, crashing my body into other dancers, bowling them over. She then
crushed me to her chest and planted her lips fiercely against mine. I pushed
away and she suddenly slapped me so hard I was sent staggering. Then, she
grabbed me again and spun me around, nearly breaking my arm as she tried to
twirl me, and flipped me over her back and then pulled me through her legs,
dropping onto my chest and basically doing a lap-dance on my tummy. I tried to
free my hands, which were pinned beneath her knees and getting crushed
painfully, and she bounced up and down on my stomach, driving the air from my
body. She then bent over and started licking my face. Her tongue traced lazy
circles around my eyes, nose, and mouth, covering me with hot saliva.

Finally, the music changed again and became much more mellow, as did my dance
partner.

She quickly got up and helped me to my feet, offering apologies for her
bizarre behavior.

"I'm fine, Lupe," I assured her, rubbing my aching wrists and attempting to
wipe the drool from my face with my scarf.

"It's the music, Jessica," she said awkwardly. "Sometimes it drives me wild
and I become like my namesake, the she-wolf."

"It's all right, Lupe," I smiled. It was hard to stay angry with such a
beautiful, mysterious woman. "That so-called music would drive almost anyone a
little loco."

She laughed and we briefly hugged as Ophelia and Kendra walked up. I realized
then that I hadn't seen any of their dance, but I gathered from the way Kendra
was busily re-tying her scarf that it had been nearly as interesting as mine
had been.

Ophelia bent her lips to Kendra's hand and then, after a quick glance at me,
she and Lupe were once more swallowed up by the crowd as it closed around
them.

Kendra seemed a little out of it, so I suggested that we call it a night and
go back to our hotel room and she didn't object.

When we got back to our room, after an extremely quiet walk, Kendra slipped
out of her clothes and crawled into bed. Well, slipped out of most of her
clothes: She was still wearing the multi-colored scarf.

"Got a sore throat?" I teased, after undressing and sliding into bed next to
her.

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"The scarf," I laughed, reaching for it. "You're still wearing it, silly."

To my surprise, she pushed my hand away and rolled over. "I know. It still
smells like her and I want to keep it close," she replied. "Maybe I'll dream
about her...again."

I suddenly felt ill and jumped out of the bed and raced for the bathroom. Of
course, I didn't actually throw up, just leaned over the sink, trying to catch
my breath--The word "again" had blasted into my gut so hard it felt worse than
when Tank had punched it--splashing my face with cold water.

When I could breathe without gasping and wiped away the water, and the tears,
I returned to the main room, but grabbed a blanket from the closet and a
pillow from the bed and slept on the couch, already making plans in my mind to
return to the States on the first available flight.

Next morning, however, Kendra wasn't feeling well and begged me to stay with
her, apologizing for last night's behavior and comments, and swearing that she
didn't know what had come over her.

"Please, Angel," she cooed, "give me a chance to make it up to you. We've
still got twelve days left together, and, after I'm feeling better, we'll
really do Paris right. I promise." She batted her eyes, which were kind of
bloodshot and had dark circles beneath them, and pursed her lips so invitingly
that I relented.

"And no more going to that club?" I questioned. She nodded. "Or seeing that
woman?" Again, she nodded. "Good, then take off that damn scarf and let's have
some breakfast."

She reached up and untied the scarf and tossed it on the floor next to the bed
while I grabbed the tray room-service had brought up with our breakfast on it.

I saw it when I leaned over to place the tray on her lap: A hickey, but it had
bits of dried blood on it.

"What's wrong, Ang?" she asked, noting the concern in my eyes.

"It looks like that sick bitch gave you a hickey and actually drew blood in
the process," I scowled. "Hang on and I'll get the hand-mirror and a wet cloth
from the bathroom."

"You think she bit me on purpose?" Kendra called after me. "You know, I don't
even remember her giving me a hickey, let alone biting me."

I returned from the bath and handed the mirror and the washcloth to her. "See
for yourself, Kendra."

She took the mirror and her eyes opened wide as she saw the red mark on her
neck. Then, as she wiped away the dried blood, she gasped. "You're right,
Angel," she exclaimed, twisting her head to get a better look at the wound.
"She bit me."

"Probably some sick method of branding the women she dances with, to leave
them something to remember her by," I said, attempting to placate her rising
anger. "Forget it."

"You're not the one who's been scarred!" she countered. "I'm gonna make sure I
give her a couple of scars in return, believe you me!"

"Kendra, you promised we wouldn't go back to the club or see Ophelia again," I
vainly reminded her.

"That was before I discovered I'd been branded as her property!" she hissed,
unable to take her eyes off the red welt. "Even Dallas never tried to brand
us, and she was a full-blown Cowgirl!"

"It'll clear up in a day, and there won't be any scarring from the bite," I
assured her, examining her neck. "It's just two little punctures. No big
deal."

She was still angry, but didn't feel up to going out anyway, so I thought the
issue had been resolved.

I suppose I should explain something here about my psychic ability to read
people's minds. It's not something I like to do, especially with friends and
casual acquaintances. And it's certainly not something I do when I'm in a
crowd as it's very difficult to filter out all the unwanted "voices" and
concentrate on the one I want to "hear." In fact, it's generally a pretty
unpleasant experience since most people's minds are filled with thoughts which
are their business, and nobody else's. Let's face it, everyone thinks about
sex at least once every seven seconds, on some level of their consciousness,
and a lot of people entertain some fairly gruesome ideas which they would
never in a million years act on. Anyway, I suppose at this point I could have
read Kendra's mind and found out what was happening, but it simply never
occurred to me to violate her trust like that, especially since it would have
been strictly because I was jealous, and not because I had the slightest
inkling of the terrible danger she was in.

That's the funny thing about being in a nightmare situation like this one:
Looking back, I can easily spot all the clues, but at the time the thought
that we were involved with a vampire never occurred to me. I doubt it would
readily occur to any sane person.

We spent the whole day talking again, and making love, more violently than
ever before--Kendra seemed different, more wild, more exciting, almost
dangerous, the way she bit and clawed at me during the height of her ecstasy.
But I was enjoying it too much to really give it much thought at the time.
Now, of course, I wish I had.

I woke up later that evening and absently reached over to stroke Kendra's
hair, only to discover that she wasn't in the bed. Thinking she must be in the
bathroom, I called out, "Kendra? Is everything all right?" From my position in
the bed, it didn't look like the light was on in the bathroom, but if the door
had been closed, that could have accounted for that. I got up and saw that the
door was, in fact, open and that Kendra wasn't in the room at all.

Worse, her red satin one-piece mini was missing.

Quelling the sick feeling rising up in my gut, I threw on a pair of jeans and
a cut-off shirt and ran for the Kinky Cat.

As I made my way to the dance floor, Lupe suddenly loomed in front of me,
blocking my progress.

"Out of my way, Lupe," I scowled. "I'm here for Kendra."

"Of course you are, Jessica," she smiled, making no effort to get out of my
way, and in fact keeping her body between me and the floor. "As soon as she
and my mistress have finished their dance-"

"Look, I don't know what kind of sick game your mistress is playing, but she
bit Kendra last night, hard enough to draw blood," I shouted above the noise
of the music.

Something akin to fear, but tinged with a definite anger, flashed into Lupe's
dark eyes and she turned and looked over her shoulder. When she turned back to
me, her beautiful face was twisted into an ugly snarl. "Take your friend,
Jessica. Take her far from here, before it is too late," she said, stepping
aside and letting by.

I charged out onto the dance floor just as the song ended and the crowd
suddenly parted in front of me and there stood Ophelia and Kendra.

I stalked over and grabbed Kendra by the hand. "Come on, Keni, we're leaving,"
I announced, staring directly into Ophelia's pale eyes, daring her to stop me.
She just gave me a half-smile and then bent and kissed Kendra's hand.

"Sure, Angel," Kendra replied in a dreamy voice. "Let's go back to the hotel."

"And, you," I said, placing my right index finger on Ophelia's chest, "stay
the hell away from Kendra from now on. Understand?" I pushed my nail into her
flesh slightly for emphasis.

Her mouth turned down a bit, scowling, and she reached down and clamped her
hand around my wrist tightly and removed my finger from her chest. "I do not
like to be touched," she said softly, but, even though the music was so loud
it was shaking the floor beneath my feet, I could hear her voice as clear as a
bell. "Unless I want to be, of course." She laughed and then almost playfully
closed her hand around my wrist painfully for a heartbeat before releasing it
and walking away.

Rage building inside me, I took a step after her, but Lupe was suddenly in
front of me again. "No, senorita, take Lupe's advice and get your friend far
away from here," she implored me.

Kendra suddenly squeezed my hand. "I'm tired, Ang, let's call it a night,
huh?" she suggested.

"You tell your mistress to keep the hell away from Kendra, Lupe, or she's
going to regret it!" I warned her. "She has no idea who she's dealing with."

"Neither do you, Jessica," Lupe replied quietly. "But, I will pass your
message on to my mistress. Now, get out of here and take her far away. Do you
understand?"

"We're going, and we won't be back, neither of us," I promised, resolved to
tying Kendra down if necessary to prevent a repetition of tonight's
disappearing act.

She nodded, but was still obviously concerned and I swear that she was about
to say something else when her head suddenly snapped around as if she'd heard
something and she disappeared into the crowd without a backward glance.

Kendra was so weak that I had to practically carry her back to our hotel and
was sound asleep by the time her head hit the pillow. I carefully examined her
neck and, sure enough, there was fresh blood around the new hickey, although I
couldn't detect any fresh punctures. So, either Ophelia had merely sucked on
her neck or she had somehow managed to bite her again in the exact same spot.
The latter didn't seem too likely, so I cooled off somewhat. Even though I
wasn't thrilled with the idea of anyone else sucking on Kendra's neck, it was
better than having it bitten.

I crawled into the bed, wrapped my arms protectively around her, and went back
to sleep.

The next day she was weaker than the day before. Her face had this unhealthy
pale look and her eyes were almost hidden by the dark circles surrounding
them. Worse, she couldn't seem to tolerate the light, begging me to close the
drapes when I opened them, and she refused to eat, complaining that nothing
tasted right.

We didn't talk much that day. She slept through most of it and when she was
awake, she wasn't in a very talkative mood, preferring to fondle and ravage me
as much as her weakened condition permitted.

For the first time since we had met, I found myself almost repulsed by her
touch. Her body was so cold and she was behaving so differently from the woman
I had come to Paris to spend time with that I wondered if there wasn't
something seriously wrong with her.

I suggested taking her to see a doctor, but she insisted that everything was
fine. And, as the day wore on, she seemed to get much better, regaining a lot
of her old personality and some of her strength. She even managed to eat some
of the steak tartare she insisted I order from room-service, actually licking
the bloody plate clean using her fingers.

After dinner we curled up in bed together and watched a Jim Carrey marathon on
one of the local channels and fell asleep in each other's arms.

I woke up later when I felt her carefully removing my arms from her waist and
shoulders.

"I'm just going to the loo," she assured me in a quiet, distant voice.

I nodded sleepily and rolled over, letting her get up. I was almost back to
sleep when I heard the distinct sound of our room door closing over that of
the flushing. Alarmed, I leaped up and ran out into the hallway just in time
to see the elevator doors close, with Kendra plainly within.

Muttering curses, I raced down the stairs, all six flights, and managed to be
waiting, albeit out of breath, when the doors opened in the lobby.

But, Kendra wasn't inside.

Exhausted, I leaned against the wall for support and saw her shapely leg
exiting the side door nearest the stairwell. She must have gotten off on the
second floor when she realized I'd seen her and then waited until I had passed
before coming down the last flight of stairs herself.

Impressed by her ingenuity, and more determined than ever to stop her, I
charged out the door after her and saw her running down the brightly lit
street, heedless of any people she ran into, or over, as the case may be.

I called her name but she ignored me. Fortunately, I was in better shape than
she was and managed to catch up to her fairly quickly.

I grabbed her by the left arm. "Hey, what's the big-Whoa!" I said, ducking her
right when she spun around swinging it at my head.

"Let me go!" she screamed, pulling frantically to escape. "I have to go to
her!"

"The only place you have to go is back to our hotel room," I countered,
catching her right wrist as the arm tried to backhand me. "I don't know what's
wrong with you, Keni, but you're obviously in no condition to be going
anywhere."

"Let go of me!" she screamed, driving her right boot between my legs and
practically lifting me off the ground in the process.

"Okay, if that's how you want to play this," I said through clenched teeth,
releasing her arms. She smiled and turned to go, but I cocked my right arm
back and grabbed her on the shoulder with my left hand and spun her around,
right into my speeding fist. It popped her cleanly in the side of the jaw,
hard enough to put her out, but not hard enough to do any permanent damage.
Her body collapsed, but I pulled her arm up and guided her head over my
shoulder.

I got a few strange looks heading back to the hotel with her draped across my
back like that, but at least I got her back to our room before she woke up.

As she started to come around, I dug out the nylon rope I had purchased
earlier and tied her wrists and ankles firmly to the bedposts. She opened her
eyes as I was finishing tying her left ankle down and, when she realized she
couldn't get up, started screaming bloody murder.

I stuffed a pair of my underwear in her mouth--Hey, they were the things
closest at hand; it's not like I had planned every single aspect of this
thing--and that at least muffled her cries.

She struggled and screamed into my panties all night long, finally falling
asleep when the sun came up. Thankfully, I removed her impromptu gag, and
stretched out on the bed next to her and did the same.

When she woke up late in the afternoon, I warily untied her and she got up and
stretched and, after going to the bathroom, came over and snuggled up next to
me and begged me to order her another steak tartare. When it came she wolfed
it down, once again licking the blood off the plate with her fingers, and then
insisted we make love.

She was so full of energy that I couldn't help but hope she was feeling
better. Even though her body was still ice cold and her eyes were so sunken in
that I could hardly see them.

We made love...well, we touched each other. Actually, she scratched and bit me
and I pretty much defended myself, trying to caress her at the same time, but
with little luck. When she finally tired and dozed off with a disconcertingly
peaceful look on her face, her smile stained by my fresh blood from half a
dozen bites, I quickly tied her wrists and ankles to the bedposts again. But,
this time, I stuffed a moistened washcloth in her mouth when she awakened and
once more began screaming.

The next two days were pretty similar. Kendra would sleep most of the day and
then, after the steak tartare--Believe me, I tried to get her to eat something
else, but she absolutely refused--she would maul me until she fell asleep.
Whereupon I would tie her down and listen to her muffled curses until morning.

The third night, however, as I was resting against the foot of the bed, Kendra
having long since fallen into a fitful sleep, staring out the open drapes at
the nearly full moon, I heard a knock on the door.

I glanced over at the clock on the night stand and saw that it was past
eleven. Curious, I got up and went to the door.

"Who is it?" I called, peering through the peephole. But I couldn't see
anyone. The only response was another knock. "I haven't ordered anything from
room-service." Another knock. Not a particularly loud knock, not frantic, or
even angry. Just commanding in its persistence. "I'm warning you, I know
karate and I'm not afraid to use it." Okay, I know that sounds dumb, but it
was the truth. Another knock. And there was still no sign of anyone through
the peephole.

Curious, and more than a little angry, I threw the door open and these two
women were standing there. Except that they had gray skin with various gashes
and pock marks all over it and maggots crawling out of some of their wounds.
And they smelled awful.

Gagging into my hand, I backed up and tried to slam the door in their dead
faces, but the one dressed like a go-go dancer reached out and stopped it.
Both of them took a step toward me and I backed away and then turned to grab
something to hit them with and found myself staring into Lupe's eyes,...except
they were in the face of a wolf!

"I warned you, Jessica," she snarled, backhanding me with a fur-covered
forearm and knocking me across the room. "I told you to get her far away from
here. But you didn't heed Lupe's words and now your friend is damned. More
damned than Lupe herself."

After striking the wall and then bouncing when I hit the floor, I lay on my
back, trying to focus, struggling to comprehend what was happening. I looked
over as Lupe easily snapped the ropes binding Kendra and then watched
helplessly as my lover left with the two zombies.

Lupe walked back over to me, giving me an opportunity to observe her new
appearance. She was covered from head to toe with a brown fuzz that varied
from a rich chocolate on her back to a light butterscotch on her face, hands,
and feet. Or, maybe that should be muzzle, fore- and hind-paws. Her head was a
strange combination of wolf and woman, but still hauntingly beautiful,
especially her deep brown eyes, with the nose and mouth elongated to form a
muzzle and her ears now reaching above the top of her head and ending in
points of tufted fur. Her body had become much more muscular, particularly her
arms and legs, and, strangest of all, she had sprouted a bushy tail which
extended below the dark red skirt she was wearing.

She knelt down beside me, her long canines glinting in the moonlight from the
open drapes, and a soft breeze from the open sliding glass door which led to
the balcony, from which she must have entered, stirred the fur on her breasts.
"I told you to leave, to take her far from here," she said sadly. "Why did you
not listen to Lupe?"

"She was sick," I panted, trying to sound much more out of it than I really
was. "I couldn't move her. Where have those things taken her?"

"To the lair of my mistress, of course. Tonight she will receive the third and
final bite and tomorrow, when the moon is completely full, she will enjoy her
first feast of blood and join forever the damned ranks of my mistress' kind,"
Lupe explained wistfully.

"Where is that lair, Lupe?" I asked desperately, sensing her displeasure at
the thought of Kendra and Ophelia together forever. "There's still time for me
to rescue Kendra and save her from your mistress' curse. Tell me, Lupe, where
is the lair?"

She hesitated for a moment, indecision dancing in her dark eyes, then shook
her head. "No, Jessica, I will not betray my mistress, any more than I have
already," she said standing up and turning to go. "She ordered your death,
senorita. But, I give you your life and urge you to heed my warning this time
and return to America and forget all about your friend."

"NOOO!!!" I screamed, leaping up and planting both feet firmly in the small of
her back.

She howled in fury and twisted her upper torso around and grabbed one of my
ankles before I could get to my feet, after having landed on my back, and
casually tossed me against the wall above the bed. Hard. My entire body shook
when I hit and I fell to the bed with the wind knocked clean out of me.

She walked over and grabbed one leg and, using the rope I had used to secure
Kendra, tied it to the bedpost. She then grabbed the other one and likewise
bound it. I sat up, my hands reaching for her throat as she ripped my clothes
off, leaving me entirely naked, and then straddled me to similarly tie my arms
down, and she half-heartedly slapped me, spinning my head around and
subsequently striking it against the bed frame. She was incredibly strong, and
also being quite careful not to seriously injure me. Once my arms were tied
down, she removed her own clothes and then stretched out, extending her torso
down the length of my body until she was lying on top of me, belly to belly,
her furry breasts tickling my bare ones.

"Do not fight it, Jessica. I could snap you like a dry twig," she breathed,
her snout pressing itself to my reluctant lips.

I knew she wasn't kidding. And I also knew there was no sense in freeing
myself until I had learned the location of Ophelia's lair. "All right," I
sighed, kissing her wet nose. "I won't fight it."

Her tail began to wag excitedly as she ground her pelvis into mine, her paws
carefully stroking my upper body into a frenzy of excitement. She arched her
back and, while continuing to thrust her groin into mine, carefully took one
of my erect nipples into her mouth and alternately tickled it with her tongue
and then sucked on it, causing me to moan with pleasure and longing to have my
arms free so that I could fondle her own inviting breasts. She then slid
slowly up my stomach until her breasts were within reach of my mouth. I
thankfully latched onto one, ignoring the tickling sensation on my lips and
enjoying her hard nipple.

While I was busy with her tits, she had moved her legs so that her tail could
feather my pussy, tickling it and driving me absolutely wild with longing.

Sensing this, she slowly spun around on my belly until her fuzzy ass was in my
face, tail raised out of the way, and her own snout was in my snatch, licking
it with her strong, abrasive tongue. I plunged my face into the fur before me,
searching with my tongue and nose until I located her own pussy and began to
lick it out with more gusto than even she could manage, sending shivers of
delight rippling through her body.

She tried to continue to service me, but I poured it on, adding playful bites,
until she could only quiver with ecstasy.

When she finally climaxed all over my face, she threw back her head and howled
so loudly I swear I heard the mirror in the bathroom shatter.

Then, utterly spent, she collapsed on top of me, gratefully wiping my face
with her busy tail.

"That was marvelous, Jessica," she sighed, rolling over on her back and then
sliding around so that her face was next to mine. She proceeded to lick the
remaining jizz from my face, while fingering my pussy with the claws of one
paw-like hand. She was careful not scratch me and the sensation was not unlike
a ribbed dildo, only much more satisfying.

When I gushed, finally, and with the most intense orgasm I had ever
experienced, she smiled.

"I must go now, Jessica," she said, getting up from the bed and, after licking
her paw clean, putting her clothes back on. "I will put the 'Please make up
this room' sign on your doorknob so you will be discovered and freed tomorrow.
Please, do as I said and go back to America."

I asked where the lair was one last time as she was dressing, but she wouldn't
tell me. At any rate, I had already learned some of what I needed to by
reading her mind while we were making love. Even with my tongue up her snatch,
she was thinking of Ophelia and clearly recalled the two of them making love
in what I had hoped was the lair. My question had brought an image of this
same place sharply into her mind and I now knew where the lair was: In the
sewers.

Reading a little deeper, I even learned its approximate location--at least I
discovered which cross-streets were near the entrance. But I also knew that
after a bit of research I would have all the information I needed to find it.

Then, Lupe did something that not only surprised me, but threw all of my plans
for rescuing Kendra that night right out the window.

"I'm sorry for this, Jessica, believe me, I am, but, I can't have your cries
alerting your neighbors before tomorrow morning. Sleep well and pleasant
dreams, querida," she said as she brought her paw up and belted me in the jaw,
knocking me out before I had time to prevent it.

I woke up this morning when one of the hotel maids came in, found me tied up
to the bed, and screamed. It took me a few minutes to calm her down and then
explain that I was all right and didn't need the police, and after she left I
had a quick shower and then spent the rest of the day buying some supplies and
at the library, reading everything I could find on vampires and werewolves,
and checking out old maps of the city's sewer system. It took me longer than I
thought it would, but I finally figured out where Ophelia's lair was and that
brings us back to the beginning.

And the zombies.

The one on the ledge with me made a clumsy attempt to lunge at me, but I
ducked under her groping arms, leaned back against the wall and kicked her
full in the chest, sending her flying into her partner.

I jumped down into the water and kicked her in the face as she tried to stand
up, knocking her to her back in the filthy water. Then, I turned and drove my
fist into the other one's face. Actually, I drove it through her face. Ick. A
shriveled up blob of grayish matter--Which I suppose had to be what was left
of her brain--shot out the back of her head, but she didn't seem to miss it as
she continued to try to wrap her arms around my throat. With my hand still
inside her cranium, I lifted my left leg up and attempted to kick her off of
me. No go. My foot went right through her gut and popped out of her back. And
her hands were still tightening around my throat.

Getting a bit frantic--As well as majorly grossed out!--I ripped my hand out
of her head and tore my leg free at the same time, leaving her standing there
with no face and a gaping hole in her middle, and her claw-like fingers still
choking me.

I then reached up and grabbed her arms and attempted to pull her hands from my
throat, but her arms broke off with a sickening crunch and those damn hands
were still clawing into my windpipe.

Before I could finish dealing with them, however, the blonde one stood up and
circled around behind me, adding her hands to those of her partner's and
squeezing my neck painfully.

I reached over my head and grabbed her by the head and attempted to pull her
off of me by flipping her over in front of me, but her head came off instead.
Gagging at the way her jaws opened and closed, trying to bite me, I threw it
as hard as I could into the armless body of the other one and she simply
disintegrated with a slight poof that left a cloud of dust where she had
stood. The remnants of the dress dropped into the water and floated away.

One down, one to go...sort of, I said to myself, remembering that I still had
both zombies' hands around my throat.

I then reached up and, by breaking off several fingers, managed to pry the
first set of hands loose and hurled them down the dark tunnel. Then, I reached
back and pulled the other pair of hands loose, the fingernails clawing a good
deal of my flesh away in the process. Still hanging onto the arms, I flipped
the headless body over and then ripped the arms off and kicked the body so
hard that it flew into the wall of the sewer and exploded into thousands of
fragments.

I threw the arms, the hands of which were still clawing at me, as far as I
could down the sewer, then grabbed my heavy pack and continued on my way,
knowing I was on the right track.

When the ledge I was traveling on widened into a platform some 15 meters
square, I decided to take the opportunity to change into the special clothes I
had bought for this foray. First, I shed my old clothes, tossing the ruined
outfit into the brackish water and then slipped into an outfit made of white
leather, with silver embroidery. A pair of white leather boots, with silver
tips and heels, elbow pads, also studded with silver, and white leather gloves
with silver studs added to my battle suit. I wrapped a long sliver chain
around my waist several times to act as a belt and was just putting the silver
hair pin in my red tresses when Lupe exited one of the tunnels which converged
at this spot, growling ferociously.

(At the time I was confused, thinking it was later than I thought and that the
moon had already risen. Later, I discovered that lycanthropy, unlike
vampirism, was not a curse placed upon a dead body which brought it back to
life, but a disease one became infected with when the saliva of a carrier
entered one's bloodstream. This led to a medical condition characterized by a
hormonal imbalance which was somehow triggered by the full moon. Lupe, and
other werewolves, were stuck in their animalistic forms for the entire three
days of the full moon each month, but were essentially human all other times.
The nearer the moon was to being full, either waxing or waning, the wilder and
more savage the imbalance would cause the personalities of the lycanthropes to
become, until the full moon triggered the actual physical transformation.)

"Lupe told you to leave, Jessica," she howled, a plaintive note creeping into
the rage. "Now, I must kill you, to save you from a far worse fate." She
lunged at me, easily covering the 10 meters between us in a single bound, but
I shot my gloved fist forward and bent her body over my arm as my fist sunk
deep into her belly.

She dropped in front of me, plainly shocked by the pain, and I followed up
with a left hook that snapped her head around. She roared and then sprang back
to collect herself, but I ran after her, jumping up and doing a handspring
that launched my heels into her chest.

She howled in a mixture of surprise and discomfort as she backpedaled from the
impact. Leaping up again, I brought the heel of my right boot crashing into
her jaw and then, when she was off-balance, spun around and drilled her in the
side with my other foot, sending her sprawling on her stomach.

I rushed over, but I had underestimated her stamina and the increased strength
from the fullness of the moon, and she sprang to her feet and nearly tore my
head off with a backhanded slap that sent me reeling in the opposite
direction. She then lowered her her head and charged me, driving her shoulder
into my lower back and lifting me off my feet, slamming me into the wall so
hard that I thought I was going to black out, especially when she reached up
and grabbed the back of my head with one paw and smashed my face into the wall
a couple of times.

"No more kid gloves," I hissed through a mouthful of blood.

Lupe's body suddenly flew backward, crashing into the opposite wall hard
enough to stun her momentarily, and then sailed back at me. But, by this time
I had turned around and had raised my right leg, heel poised and waiting for
her gut. When she struck and curled over on my leg, all the air in her large
frame exiting in an agonized Whooomphhhh!!!! I quickly brought both fists up
in a hammer-like swing that caught her under the chin and knocked her to her
back.

She didn't get back up.

I unwound the silver chain from my waist and proceeded to tie her up with it,
securing her arms behind her back with her knees bound tightly against her
chest, making it difficult for her to draw a deep breath, should she come to
before I returned.

As an extra safeguard, I retrieved the wolf's-bane I had purchased from my
pack and encircled her unconscious body with it, leaving a space of about a
meter between her and the foul-smelling branches.

Satisfied that she would neither escape nor interfere with the coming battle,
I proceeded down the tunnel through which she had come.

The end of the tunnel opened up into this enormous chamber with a high roof.
Dirty brown waterfalls cascaded in from a series of conduits about halfway up
the walls and landed in a meter-wide trench which ran along the base of three
of the walls and exited out a tunnel which appeared to lead even deeper
underground. A single coffin lay flush with the one wall which did not have
the trench at its base. A huge thing, made of a black wood which I had never
seen before. Golden bats lined the sides and the gold plaque on top read:

Lady Ophelia Agneau

1532 - 1561

I glanced down at my watch and was alarmed to see that it was nearly 7 p.m.
Ignoring the coffin for the moment, I set about preparing the room for the
coming conflict by hanging garlands of garlic across the exit tunnels and on
the walls themselves. I then took a large roll of silver foil and hung it up
in sheets on all four walls. Finally, even though I doubted it would do much
good, having decided that Ophelia was far too old a vampire to fear a mere
symbol, I hung a silver crucifix around my neck.

Then, I removed one of the hawthorne stakes from my pack and walked over to
the coffin, dreading what I would find within.

I opened it slowly and gritted my teeth in fury when I saw Kendra and Ophelia
lying with their arms around each other.

Filled with anger, I raised the stake over Ophelia's chest, but before I could
bring it down, her pink eyes snapped open and she reached up and grabbed my
wrist, crushing it painfully and forcing me to drop the stake to the ground.

"Thank you ever so much for providing the initiatory meal for Kendra, and
saving us the trouble of going out hunting this evening, Jessica," Ophelia
said with a grin which exposed her pointed teeth.

"Wake up, Kendra, darling," she cooed, tossing me across the room with a
casual flick of her wrist. "It's dinner time."

I looked up as Kendra sat up and climbed out of the coffin, her eyes already
becoming glassy and dull. She walked toward me but balked when she saw the
crucifix around my throat.

"New vampires are all the same," chuckled Ophelia throatily as she exited her
coffin, "they think they should fear the sign of the cross because of the
ludicrous so-called horror films and the literature. But they discover soon
enough that the symbols have no power, other than that which we ourselves give
them. Go on, Kendra, the cross can only hurt you if you believe it can."

Kendra turned back toward me and all fear and doubt were gone, her expression
having become more like that of an animal as she licked her lips hungrily and
inhaled deeply, smelling the blood from my fight with Lupe.

But, despite Ophelia's statement, I knew she was still human, and not a "new
vampire," not yet. Not until she had experienced her first blood feast. And,
as a human, her mind, unlike that of her would-be mistress, was still open to
me.

As she took a step toward me, she suddenly fainted, the result of my psychic
disruption of her neural pathways.

"Very well, Jessica, we'll do this the hard way, after all," Ophelia growled,
stalking toward me. "By the way, I can't say I approve of the new decorations,
but I'm sorry to say that they don't really bother me in the least."

"We'll see about that," I replied, advancing to meet her.

She was wearing the same black leather one-piece that she had the night she
had first danced with Kendra, and her muscular arms and legs fairly throbbed
with power as she slowed down and crouched low, bending at the knees and
raising her arms defensively.

I adopted the same stance and we circled each other warily, searching for an
opening at which to strike.

As we did so, I sent out small psychic probes and attempted a mental attack,
similar to the one I had used on Lupe, but the vampire was immune to my
abilities.

Having expected such to be the case, I adjusted my gloves, pulling them down
and stretching my fingers out, and then lunged at her, swinging my right fist
straight at her face. She ducked, as I hoped she would, and I drove my knee up
into her chin. I then reached out with my left hand but she grabbed it and
threw her thick forearm into my chest and then snapped my head around with a
right to my jaw.

Still holding my left hand, she grabbed my head and flipped me over her
shoulder and sent me flying through the air. I crashed into the wall and
dropped to the ground, gasping for breath.

She flew over and reached down for my hair, but I leaned back and drove my
right foot, heel-first into her chest. She actually screamed as she staggered
backward and I leaped up and caught the side of her face with my heel,
bringing another shriek. When I attempted to follow up my kick with a
roundhouse left, she surprised me by striking out and impaling me in the gut
with the spiked heel of her left boot.

We both backed away from each other, nursing our wounds.

I could tell that the silver was hurting her and, when I added the fact that
she hadn't eaten this evening, I was hoping her stamina would give out before
my own.

She glared at me, her eyes now glowing a deep red, and raised one thin
eyebrow. "It would seem I underestimated you, Jessica," she hissed, continuing
to circle around me. "But, I have lived too long to have my existence ended by
the likes of you. When this is over, rest assured that it will be your life
which is terminated."

"Maybe. But, it's not me you've underestimated, Ophelia, but my love for
Kendra. And that will ultimately be your undoing," I replied.

She suddenly got a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Oh, no, Jessica, on the
contrary, it will be your undoing!" she cackled, rushing over and scooping
Kendra's unconscious body into her arms. "As much as I want this one to join
me for eternity, if you don't surrender yourself to me, I will rip her body to
shreds."

I held my hands up and placed them behind my head. "You win, Ophelia, put her
down and I won't resist any further," I said, the fingers of my right hand
closing around the silver hairpin.

"I think I'll hold onto her for the time being. Not that I don't trust you, of
course," she chortled. "But I do prefer not to take any chances, and, with me
holding her, you wouldn't dare try anything." She looked down at the woman in
her arms and in the split second that her eyes were occupied elsewhere, I
hurled the pin at her.

It struck the center of her forehead and sunk in a good three inches.

She screamed and dropped Kendra, reeling backward and trying to rip the
burning thing from her brain.

I rushed forward, plowing my shoulder into her belly and driving her backward
further, until she struck one of the silver strips I had hung on the wall with
her bare back.

Howling in an ear-piercing combination of rage and agony, she raked her
claw-like nails across my back, digging deeply into my flesh and drawing blood
from a half-dozen wounds.

I jumped back but she lashed out and cut my cheek wide open with the heel of
her left boot. She then tore a strip of leather from her outfit, causing one
magnificent breast to pop free, and, wrapping it around her hand, reached up
and pulled the silver hairpin from her head and hurled it into the
water-filled trench.

When she turned her face to me again, it had changed, becoming more demonic
and her fangs had grown considerably. Blood trickled from the fresh wound in
her forehead down her nose and past her mouth, but other than that, she seemed
unhurt by my desperate gambit.

"Now, you die!" she growled, rushing at me with her arms outstretched.

I likewise ran at her, feinting a duck, which caused her to lower her arms,
and then leaping over her at the last minute, flipping in mid-air and slamming
my heels into her shoulder blades, right on the marks from where the silver
strip had scorched her. She roared in unmistakable pain and reached her arms
backward instinctively. I reached down and grabbed both of her wrists and,
with my heels still braced on her back, reared back, wrenching her arms
painfully and causing her to crash to the ground on her stomach.

I carefully stepped backward along her spine, digging my heels in with each
step, until I was on her buttocks and her back was arched like a bow. She
continued to scream as I pulled back harder, trying to snap her spinal column,
but then she began to struggle to get her legs beneath her and before I
realized what she was up to she was on her knees.

She then threw herself backward, crushing me beneath her and causing me to let
go of her arms. I did, however, manage to loop my legs around her waist and I
wasted no time applying a powerful scissor hold. She reached down to pry my
legs loose but the silver embroidered into my boots prevented her from
touching them. I wrapped one arm around her throat, making sure that the
silver studs of the elbow pad were pressing against her flesh, and then
squeezed with both my legs and my arm, while repeatedly smashing my right fist
into her temple.

"NOOOO!!!!" she suddenly screamed, reaching down and, despite the searing pain
caused by the silver, pried my legs apart and then rammed her elbows into my
belly and crotch. Hard. A bunch of times.

My head swimming from the pain, I released my choke-hold and she leapt up and
then turned and stabbed her stiletto heel into my groin.

"Now, you interfering bitch, this will end!" she sneered, her face an ugly
mask of hatred as she continued to grind the point of her heel into my sex.

I attempted to push the foot away but the pain was too great and I couldn't
bring my limbs into play. Looking around desperately, I spied the coffin on
the far side of the room. Focusing my mental energies on it, I telekinetically
raised it and sent it crashing into Ophelia's side, the impact carrying her
into the wall, where she was crushed between the coffin and another of the
silver strips.

She hurled the coffin away from her and then pried her smoking flesh from the
silver.

In the meantime, I focused my mental energies on the stakes in my pack and
they shot out and impaled the vampire's hands and feet, pinning her back to
the silver sheet once more. She shrieked in unimaginable suffering as I called
the last of the stakes to my hand and slowly approached her struggling, but
obviously trapped form. As I stood before her, stake poised over her chest, I
tried to gather my hate for the killing stroke, but I suddenly realized that
if I struck out of hatred, hers wouldn't be the only life ended by the blow.
Mine would be over as well. At least a vital part of me would die. So,
instead, I looked at her and I knew that striking out of love was the only way
to save both our souls. Not love of Kendra, or Lupe, or even myself, but
genuine love for her, and for the woman she had been.

I leaned forward and kissed her as I plunged the stake into her heart and, it
may have been my imagination, but, just before her eyes closed forever, I
could have sworn that they changed color, from demonic red to angelic blue,
and there was gratitude in them.

Tears running down my cheeks, I stepped back, leaving her body pinned to the
wall by the five stakes, and then shot a psychic bolt up through the ceiling,
tearing out a tunnel which led to the surface at such an angle that the rays
of the rising sun shone down through it and bathed Ophelia's body in its
purifying light, utterly disintegrating it.

I walked wearily over to where Kendra lay and knelt down and was about to pick
her up when her eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me with such love
that I began to cry in earnest and hugged her tightly.

"Is it over? Is she dead?" she whispered, her body shaking against mine.

"She died a long time ago, Kendra," I replied, kissing away her tears. "But,
now, at long last, her soul is at peace."

"Oh, Angel, it was so awful! I hated what I was doing, but I couldn't stop
myself!" she sobbed, holding me close. "I-I--" She broke down completely,
unable to speak another word.

"It's all right, it's all over now," I soothed, stroking her hair fondly.
"Come on, let's go back to the hotel and get you into bed so that you can
rest."

She nodded and then suddenly looked up at me, concern framing her lovely blue
eyes. "What about Lupe? You didn't kill her, did you?" she inquired, getting
slowly to her feet.

I shook my head. "I left her tied up down the tunnel," I replied, steadying
her by placing my arm around her shoulders.

"What are you going to do with her?" she asked, averting her eyes from the
blackened outline on the wall where the sunlight still shone.

"Cure her," I stated.

* * * * *

Lupe was still unconscious when we got back to her and I slung her over my
shoulder, her arms alone bound with the silver chain, and we made our way back
to the hotel, encountering few people on our way, thanks to the earliness of
the hour.

Once back in our room, I unchained Lupe's arms, securing the chain around her
neck instead and attached the other end to the pipe beneath the bathroom sink.
I then shut the door and stuffed the wolf's-bane under it to prevent her from
escaping if she should manage to break free of the chain. I doubted that she
would--Silver neutralizes a werewolf's strength but does not cause any
physical discomfort unless it pierces the flesh. And it needs to fully
penetrate the brain or the heart to actually kill them--but I wasn't about to
take any chances.

"Once bitten, twice shy" has become my new motto.

I went and crawled into bed next to Kendra, who was already peacefully
snoring, and snuggled up to her, wrapping my arms around her protectively and
falling asleep myself with a contented smile on my face.

The End

(For now)

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