A Tale of Revenge Ch. 03

It seemed as if I stared at that card for hours.

I knew every crinkle in the cardboard, every stain on its surface. I closed my eyes and saw the cold blackness of the font which was much better then what I could have seen considering the evening I'd just had. How could I have known that the vampire would be in that alleyway? Or that she would be planning on snacking on the four men who had dragged her down there to rape her?

I could still see her in my mind's eye as she stood, her body curved and sleek, motioning me forward. I had wanted so badly to go to her, to be caressed and kissed and to do the same to her.

But why had I stopped? She'd had me, I had felt her power and her seductive charms. I wanted her with a desire I didn't think possible for me to feel. I had never been attracted to another woman before until her. What had stopped me?

That question, followed by a thousand others, broke me out of my shocked daze. I reached for the phone and punched in the numbers on the card that I hoped would bring me answers.

"It's about time." The voice was abrupt and deep, and sounded very annoyed.

Huh? Was he expecting someone... or was he expecting me?

"Um, I found this card at..."

"I know where you found it. I've been watching you since you left Hardbodies. Nice kill. Now, get dressed and meet me at this bar."

He gave me instructions and I quickly found a pen and jotted them down on the first page of the Bible that was in the dresser drawer. It still looked brand new. That thought almost had me laughing, looking around at the bright red paisley bedspread, the red stained curtains, the brown carpeting and the neon light flashing in through the window. If there were anywhere that this bible should be read, it was here.

"Okay, how will I..."

"Fifteen minutes." The line went dead and I heard it reconnect, the dial tone buzzing incessantly in my ear. I dropped it back on the hanger, sent a silent apology up above and ripped the page out of the bible that I had written the instructions on. Then I hurried and got dressed. Even rushing, it still took me longer than the fifteen minutes the voice had specified to reach the bar.

It was a dive. Dirty front windows that had been boarded over instead of being replaced, a large neon sign with half the letters out, the rest buzzing and sputtering all giving the place more than a well-lived in feeling. The name of the bar was Michelle's Tavern but with the letters that were burned out it spelled helle's Tavern. I thought the description very apt.

My shoes stuck to the floor when I walked to the bar. I had no idea who I was looking for, only that I really didn't like being in the place. Whoever Michelle was, she didn't keep a very clean tavern. The barstools were ragged leather haphazardly patched and filthy. The bar was grimy, which was a shame because it looked as if at one time it had been a real showpiece. The brass foot rail was old and scuffed, tarnished and dull. And I didn't want to even think what had been on the floor, or on any of the round, lopsided tables scattered throughout the room.

I gingerly climbed onto one of the stools, staring at the huge man behind the bar. His biceps were as large around as my waist. On one was tattooed a bright red heart with the name Michelle written through it like an arrow. He looked like the normal bartender for this kind of establishment, bald with a large handlebar mustache, bruiser type in a tight tee shirt and a stained white apron wrapped around his waist.

"Getcha..." he gruffed at me.

"Ah..." I hadn't really thought of drinking anything and wondered if the glasses were clean. "Do you have a Coke in the can or bottle?"

He reached under the bar and yanked open a refrigerator case, pulling out a can and sliding it across to me, slapping down a grimy glass on a yellowed bar napkin. "Six bucks."

I wanted to protest but decided that I'd rather pay the money, skip the glass and look for the man who had sent me here. Wiping the edge of the can off with the napkin, I turned to survey the room behind me. It wasn't very busy, a couple of guys at a single table staring at me as if they knew what I looked like naked and a bunch of noise coming from the back half of the room. I could see the green felt of a pool table and a group of guys gathered loosely around it. I could also hear the bass guitar of a very squeaky and brutalized jukebox that really should have been put to pasture a long while back.

I sat for a few minutes, wondering if my contact or whatever I should call him had gotten tired of waiting for me and left if he had ever been here in the first place.

Giving him a few more minutes, I finished my coke, looking everywhere but at the two guys who were still ogling me. What is it about some men? They could make you feel naked if you were wearing a parka.

This was nuts. I was out the second time tonight, far from the safety of my motel room in the presence of rude and rugged strange men. He wasn't showing up. I dropped the empty can back on the bar, nodded to the barkeep who just looked bored and kept rubbing a filthy bar rag over a filthier glass and walked out.

The door shut loudly behind me and I was alone on the almost empty streets. I'd always thought that the city never closed, that the streets always had seemed busy no matter what time James and I had gone out. But this area was deserted. I saw a couple of generic looking bag people huddling in tight balls against filthy cardboard as I passed an alley, but that was it.

I was almost to the motel before they struck.

The arms came at me from out of another of the endless alleys, yanking me into the shadows. A hand slapped down hard across my lips and I felt blood welling in my mouth from where my teeth cut into my flesh. The brick wall bruised my back as I was pushed against it. A tall, rangy body pushed against me, pushing my thighs apart and rubbing against my jean covered groin.

"You're a pretty one." His breath smelt like the bottom of a barrel where the ale had gone bad. I cringed back away from him.

"Wait, you got to go first last time," the voice was higher and shrill and I recognized it from the bar. It belonged to one of the two men at the table who'd been staring at me. My mind raced as I tried to find a way out. I could feel a sense of surrealism coming over me, the dim lights wavering as my brain decided to pick this moment to disconnect. How much was I supposed to endure?

First James, watching my beloved's life blood drained only to be replaced by the vampiric curse. Then to have him come to me, try to draw me out to him, to be only a meal for him. This trip, the vampire in the alley, her blood foul over my skin, I couldn't take much more.

I found myself wishing it were over. Wishing that I could just give up and let them take me. I felt my shirt rip, the air cool on the upper curves of my breasts. His mouth latched on the soft skin near my cleavage, his tongue licking and seeking more of my softness. I shuddered in despair and disgust, feeling tears flow down my cheeks. His hand was at my neck, lifting my head, his other hand pulling at the rest of my shirt, ripping the material until it hung from my arms.

He yanked down the cups of my bra, exposing my breasts to his foul gaze. I could feel his fingers pulling at my nipples, laughing at how they tightened in the cool night air.

And I just stood there. I didn't fight though my arms were free. I didn't kick or struggle. I stared off past his shoulder and let him maul my body. I heard a whimper and realized that it came from me. He looked up at me and suddenly everything came back into focus. His eyes shown an angry red and he smiled, his teeth long and sharp in a mouth suddenly too big. His hands were claws, digging into my skin. I saw over his shoulder the whiny guy. He too was looking at me with those glowing eyes, a look of something more then lust in them when he glanced at my skin. He looked hungry.

His mouth closed over my nipple, his tongue flicking at the taut bud. It was cold and dead feeling, like a piece of meat left too long in the refrigerator, it felt rubbery against my skin. I felt a sharp pain and knew he had nicked me with one of his teeth. He pulled back from my breast, his mouth leaving my skin with a disgusting popping noise. He watched the blood drip from the tiny wound he had made, running in a tiny rivulet down over my breast. Then his tongue lapped out, sliding along the bloody trail, licking clean the blood and leaving a slimy trail of fetid saliva.

"Hmm, baby, you taste so sweet."

I felt a burst of heat from around my neck and heard the vampire scream. He dropped his hands from me, backing off quickly. I took a second to catch my breath, seeing the golden glow that came from the cross around my neck, the last present that James had ever given to me. It seemed to hold some strange power, something akin to the myth of garlic and crosses that I read in the stories and articles I had found online.

I jerked my bra up, pulling my shirt over my breasts and tying it in a knot at my stomach. Then I advanced. I went from a subdued, cowering wimp to an extremely pissed off bitch in the blink of an eye.

"You son of a bitch, do you think I'd let you take me that way? You want sweet? I'll show you sweet."

He cowered back from the cross, his annoying friend behind him. I listened to their shrieks as they tried to shield their eyes from the light. There was a sense of freedom inside of me, an awe of the power that I felt now. It was frighteningly powerful, terrifyingly addictive. I could almost feel the strength sing through my bloodstream. I wanted to feel death, but my own way. I wanted to cause bloodshed, I wanted to take these beasts and send them back to the hell they came from.

"Here," a voice from behind me said.

I turned and instinctively reached out as a stake flew through the air towards me. It slapped into my palm as if drawn there by a magnet. The heavy feel of the metal heating with the warmth of my body was invigorating. I knew then that these two would feed from me tonight. They would feel my heat through this stake and it would be the last thing they knew.

Of course, they tried to fight. My attacker threw a punch, his other hand up in front of his eyes. It was ridiculously easy to dodge. I slapped aside his hand as he tried again and came under it, my stake finding its target in the corded muscles of his chest, slipping through ribs and finding the unbeating heart.

I pulled back, the stake still in my hand as he looked down at the hole in his chest. He looked at me in surprise and I smiled gently, blowing him a kiss. His body went into almost the same paroxysms as the girl had earlier and I stepped back, waiting for the explosion. I didn't exactly relish the idea of being covered once more with vampire guts, but it seemed to be part and parcel with the job.

The explosion didn't come. He shrieked and clawed at his face, pulling the skin off, flinging it away and then running back further into the alley. I couldn't help but be amazed by the way he simply fell to his knees, hitting the cement with a shallow plopping sound. And then his body seemed to implode in upon itself, leaving nothing but a wet stain upon the pavement.

"Convenient," I said aloud to myself before turning to the last vampire in the alley.

I was feeling cocky, maybe a little too overly confident. Whiny hadn't seemed like that much of a man. He'd seemed like more his friend's lap dog instead of an actual threat. With a come hither wag of my fingers, I egged him on.

He didn't rush me as I expected, instead stepping around me, watching my body language. I could see his eyes on the cross at my neck and the stake in my hand, but he didn't seem afraid. Instead, he seemed to shrug off his subservient attitude as if it were an unwanted coat. He cracked the bones in his neck with a simple toss of his head and then did his fingers with a crack and hack move that all good computer jockeys knew. He smiled down at me, mockingly, not even trying to hide from the gold of my cross.

Uh oh.

What I knew about fighting I had learned from watching the unending selection of action movies that James had loved. I'd never even hit anyone until tonight. A little of the amazing power I had felt earlier vanished and I felt a tiny niggle of concern that caused sweat to break out under my arms and trickle down my spine. I let the stake drop a little to my side, flipping it in my hand so that it was held loosely, pointed up like a man's hard and excited cock would be.

His hand shot out and found my face, slapping me hard enough to make my ears ring. I fell backward, taking an involuntary step to keep my balance and he grinned at me. He took the cocky fighting stance that Keanu Reeves had taken in the first Matrix movie, turned his hand over and waved his fingers at me, a not so subtle attempt at humiliating me.

Well, I might not have the Bruce Lee fighting skills or be able to kick ass like Blade, or have the fun toys like James Bond. But I did have one thing that they didn't. I had years of being a woman and knowing how to use it to my advantage. I put my left hand to my face, pulling it back with a look of shock in my eyes when I saw the blood on my fingers. I let my shoulders droop, my lips pout in horror. Tears welled in my eyes and overflowed onto my cheeks. I did everything but shove a thumb into my mouth to let him know that I was beaten and cowed. And by one little punch.

His stance relaxed, his arm dropped. He looked disappointed, surprisingly enough. He stepped forward, the glow of red in his eyes intensifying. I felt that pull for just an instant, a voice in my mind that called me, reached down inside of me and made my panties wet as desire flowed rich and thick. My nipples tightened against the ripped material of my clothing, my heart raced and tiny little goose bumps broke out on my skin.

And then I was myself again. But I didn't let him see that. Instead I stepped forward, taking his hand with my free hand when he reached out. I kept staring into his eyes, giving him a shy, sweet smile. I acted the cowed and willing lover to the beast, even going so far as to tilt my head for his feast. I felt the sharp tips of his teeth against my skin.

My arm came up amazingly fast, plunging the stake into his heart unerringly. His hold tightened on me and his teeth started to bite down with the pain. I kicked out, knocking him backwards, yanking my neck from next to his teeth an instant before he would have ripped through, tearing out my jugular.

This one wasn't going to leave just a small splat on the sidewalk. His face started swelling almost instantly, his mouth opening wide as he started to convulse. I stepped back as far as I could, and sought to stay out of the way of his rolling on the ground as he fell. A hand grabbed my arm and dragged me, dodging past the flaying legs of my latest victim and pulled me out of the alley and around the corner. I stood there, catching my breath and then I heard the plop and felt the cold rush of air as he exploded.

When the last drop of blood landed, I turned to the man, seeing him for the first time.

He surprised me. I guess I was still caught in the movies. I had expected maybe the teacher from Karate Kid or the English guy from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. No, what I got was more along the lines of Hannibal King from Blade Trinity. He was tall, cut and buff, a beard and mustache, nicely trimmed accenting a lush mouth. His hair stood up in a spiked look that I had always thought semi ridiculous, but he pulled it off beautifully. He was tall, much taller than my five foot seven inches. I had to look up at him. His eyes were chocolate brown, melted sweetness. I felt a knock in my ribs and then shame. My James, my beloved was gone and I was getting the hots for a guy I met in an alley.

"Thanks for this." I held up the stake and then flipped it expertly in my hand and slid it into my back pocket. He wasn't getting it back. I liked the way it felt too much.

He half nodded his head in acknowledgment and then motioned me forward. He walked quickly and I had to half run to keep up with his much longer legs. I looked up, noting my motel sign and realized we were heading for my room. He didn't say anything when we got there, just motioned at the door and I once more slid the key into the lock, my hand this time as steady as a rock.

He stood inside the door and stared at me for a moment, then reached out and grabbed my arms, dragging me closer to him before I could react. His hands stripped the knot of my shirt, yanking it down and then quickly following with my bra.

"Hey!"

I don't know if I was more shocked or surprised. Or maybe I was just a lot of both. His eyes scanned my bruised flesh in the bright light of the overheads. He reached out and touched the small puncture left by dead boy's fang, his hand gentle but abrupt against my skin. Before I could move, he reached into a side pocket of his pants and pulled out a vial. He poured the liquid over my skin and I felt a burning sensation. Looking down, I saw the wound bubbling as if I had poured hydrogen peroxide into an infected cut. But it hurt a hell of a lot worse than that.

"Ouch, what the hell are you doing?"

"Holy water." He held up the vial for my inspection and then slipped it back into his pocket. "Vampires carry disease, a virus that kills blood cells and creates the constant need for fresh blood. That tiny cut probably wouldn't have meant much but better to be safe then sorry."

He turned away from me as if seeing my naked breasts hadn't affected him. I think that thought hurt more than the holy water had. I quickly dressed while he stared around my motel room. He went to the picture of James that had been sitting next to the bed.

"I've seen him. He runs with the pack now. He's Marina's new boy toy."

I took the two steps separating us and snatched the picture from his hand, setting it down inside the suitcase that I had left open on the dresser. For some reason, I didn't want him touching James, I didn't want him looking at my last memories and defiling them.

"Who's Marina?" This is the information I needed to know. That and more of how to kill them.

"A killer." He looked at me for a second and then walked around the room, looking inside drawers and finally standing at the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes settled at a point and I knew he was seeing the pile of clothing I had left there filthy from the female vampire I had ran into earlier. I wasn't planning on wearing them ever again, they would get thrown out as soon as I got the guts to actually touch them again.

"You have to be careful," he was saying to me. "Remember what it looks like, how it feels, when one of them is vanquished. This isn't some nice story where vampires turn to dust and blow away. That would be so easy. No, vampires have different ways of going. Looking at them, you'll never be able to tell whether they implode or leave a big mess like that one did." He nodded at the pile of clothing. "Always leave yourself an out, a shield against the gore. You don't want to be blinded with vampires around."

And in my head I heard words from The Lost Boys, a movie that I used to love to watch. "Some yell and scream, some go quietly. Some implode, some explode. But they'll all try to take you with em."

He turned and glanced at me. "Got anything to drink in this place?"

"Water." I nodded at the bathroom door. He stepped inside and I heard the tap running. All the time he was in there, my mind was buzzing with questions. I could close my eyes and still see the eerie red glow of their eyes. Watching them die didn't seem as big a deal as it had before I had left this room to go to that bar. It now seemed a little piece of freedom with every one I staked. They all would lead to the final confrontation I wanted, the show down with this Marina. And then, James.