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That evening we went back across the street. I talked with Charlie for a few minutes. He seemed to be getting weaker every day. He was developing a cough and I could see that he was in pain. That night Jenny went out scouting after he turned in and I spent a quiet evening at home with Arbutus.

Oddly, it seemed that we were developing a routine. I’d work with Charlie most mornings, then visit with them and share dinner, then Jenny’d go out scouting. On the fourth day she was just beginning to look a bit weak and, in the morning, she told me that we needed to go out that night.

This time I was really surprised when we drove out Long Island to Brentwood. We stopped at a large house that was just off the Brentwood Country Club.

“He’s alone in there,” she said. “I’m just going to take him at the door. Come in behind me and close it.”

“Who is he?” I asked.

“Uses a resort business as a front to traffic women from Thailand and Eastern Europe as prostitutes. They think they’ll be cleaning hotel rooms, not providing services in them. He keeps them as slaves in a bunk house in Coney Island. After a couple of years they’ve paid off their debt, so he arranges for the INS to pick them up and deport them. Of course, if they get to be too much trouble they end up in the East River. Police don’t care much about undocumented hookers with a cord around their necks.”

“You’re going to feed here?”

“Yeah, with some of his connections some blood and no body will make sense to his partners.”

True to her word, she sprung on him as soon as he opened the door. He was struggling as his blood ran out on the white marble floor before I got the door closed. After a minute or two, Jenny lifted up, breathing hard and looked at me, her face and shirt covered with blood. Her eyes were bright red but then they changed to a light, electric blue. She stood up and walked to me, a smile on her face, her fangs not yet retracted. For a moment I was scared but then…

As we fucked in the carpeted hallway, her on top, I also tasted his blood and a fair amount ended up smeared on my chest and face. Leaving his body in the foyer, we showered together in the master suite before retrieving the body bag from the van. We left it for the night in the van, parked in my driveway. We drove back across the street just before sunrise.

I felt really good the next day. Also, I couldn’t get the thought of the taste of his blood, the taste of his blood on Jenny’s neck and nipples as I licked them, out of my mind.

That afternoon, around four, the phone rang.

“Tom, please come over…” Jenny’s voice sounded distraught.

She met me at the door. She was crying, there was blood around her mouth.

“He begged me to…he was in so much pain…” she sobbed into my chest.

I went up the stairs and found Charlie, laying on his bed, laying peacefully. I hadn’t realized how the constant pain he’d been in had affected his expression. Now his face was relaxed, eyes closed, even a bit of a smile…there was just a small cut on the left side of his throat and very little blood on his skin or the pillow.

I was shocked at how light he was when I picked him up, he couldn’t have been much over 100 pounds. I carried him down into the basement. After I had laid him on the tray and pushed it into the furnace I looked back at her. Her face was anguished, the tears running over her cheeks were streaking the drying blood on her chin and throat.

I reached for the handle and she said, “No.”

She came forward. “Let me do this,” she said.

She kissed her fingertips, then reached in the crematory and put them on his lips, then pulled the handle that closed the front. She sighed, then reached up and pressed the ‘start’ button.

We slept that night in her box. A tight fit with her lying on top of me. She cried for most of the night and only went to sleep near dawn.

At about six, I got up and processed Charlie’s ashes, but this time I found flower pot to store them in until I could buy a proper urn. I spent the day in Charlie’s room, reading some of his manuscripts.

Over the next two weeks, I slowly moved into Charlie’s house. I used his room as an office and took one of the unused bedrooms upstairs for myself. It overlooked the back yard so the sun in the morning wouldn’t surprise us. I had to have the fence around the back yard replaced so it was safe for Arbutus. He’d never been out on his own, having been raised in a city, and I was sure that he’d have no traffic sense.

Jenny went almost three weeks before she fed again, this time an old man who lived under a highway bridge in West Haven. We left his body to be discovered with his throat cut. That was the first night she spent in my room.

She was quiet and moody. We made love slowly with no giggles or play. She sat astride my hips, raising and lowering herself on my cock as her eyes slowly changed. As we came, her eyes flashing blue while I filled her preteen vagina, tears splashed on my chest. Then she lay down, her check against me, I held her head as she cried. I could feel her vagina squeezing my cock as she sobbed.

After a while she calmed. My cock had softened some but was still inside her.

“Charlie was never really interested in sex,” she said in the dark.

She was quiet for a minute, then: “I’m sorry, you don’t need to know this.”

“No,” I said, lifting my head and looking at her, “it’s OK. You can…”

“He said he just couldn’t get used to me being a girl, he liked big tits and wide hips.”

I didn’t say anything for a while. Then I ran my hand up and down her back. “Well, I guess I’m just enough of a pedophile that I think you’re sexy as hell.”

“Really?” she lifted her head.

In the dark I smiled—I knew she could see my face even if I couldn’t see hers. “You’re the most awesome sex I’ve ever had. And do you know what’s really cool—you’ll never grow up and get big tits and wide hips. Most pedos end up disappointed when their lovers grow up, and the girl’s resent it. That’s part of why it never works, why it’s damaging. But, with you, that won’t happen.”

We were quiet again.

Then, after a few minutes, she began to move again. Now her fucking built quickly and became frenetic. She grunted each time she shoved down on my dick. I sat up, then turned us over and, in the missionary position, began to push into her. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around me, pulling herself up against me each time I plunged my cock into her.

We both were grunting and moaning as, again, her eyes flashed blue and I came for the second time that evening, leaving more of my seed inside her. I collapsed on top of her, panting with my heart pounding in my chest as she continued to rock her hips under me, cumming more. Then I felt her teeth scrape my shoulder.

What happened next seemed to be in slow motion. It seemed that a train hit me in the chest and I flew up, across the room, my head hitting the ceiling as my back hit the wall. Then I fell, knocking over a lamp and glancing off the top of my chest of drawers. I came to rest on the floor, leaning against the wall. Somehow, when I hit the lamp it came on, the bulb now bare, putting a harsh light into the room.

I shook my head and put my hand on my shoulder, it came away stained red. Jenny was sitting on the bed, her feet on the mattress, legs spread wide. My cum was leaking out of her hairless pussy. She had her head down, her fangs were extended and there was a smear of blood on her chin. She was breathing hard.

“Oh fuck Tom. I’m so sorry,” she said.

I stood up, my butt hurt and I had a small pull in my back. Blood was running down my chest, then to my hip. I watched as it worked its way down my thigh. My head swam with shock and I leaned against the drawers again, waiting for it to clear. I took several deep breaths while Jenny came over.

“Nooo….she whined, then turned and walked back to the bed, her face in her hands. I stumbled into the hallway, then into the bathroom. The gash was deep, about four inches long, and still bleeding freely. I grabbed a towel and pressed it to the wound. Jenny came up behind me. I lifted the towel and blood flowed again.

“Fuck, this’ll need stitches,” I said.

“Oh God,” Jenny said. “I’m….fuck…” She turned away.

“We need to get dressed. You’ll have to drive.”

I went without a shirt and bled through three towels before we arrived at the Emergency Room. One thing about walking into an ER dripping blood on the floor…you don’t have to wait.

“She can come with me,” I said to the nurse as they hustled me into an examining room.

Jenny sat on a stool in the corner, looking very scared while the triage nurse looked under the towel. She replaced it with one of theirs and an ice pack.

“Quite a cut there,” she said. “What happened?”

“Working in the garage, the blade on my table saw came apart.”

“Lucky it didn’t hit you in the face,” another woman in scrubs said from the doorway.

“I’m Doctor Azubulita,” she said, stepping up next to the nurse. “That must hurt.”

“A bit.”

“Your daughter?” she looked at Jenny.

“Yeah, she drove me.”

“You’re daddy’s going to be a while getting stitched,” she said to Jenny. “You may want to go out to the waiting room.”

Jenny got an even more distraught expression. Obviously she didn’t like hospitals.

“You can stay if you want, dear,” I said. I looked at the doctor, hoping she wouldn’t object.

“Get a suture tray and xylocane pack,” she said to the nurse.

As she worked, standing behind me, they chit-chatted some but were mostly quiet. The anesthetic deadened my shoulder but I could feel her tugging and there was the occasional pin prick of pain from the wound.

“Looks like something penetrated the skin, then ripped it down. It’s more a tear than a cut,” she said.

“I don’t know,” I replied. “I just heard a bang and got knocked down.”

“Nicked the muscle but you’re lucky it didn’t cut any tendons. Also, there’s a lot of bruising, you’re going to be pretty sore for a few days.”

Two hours later we were back in the van…the shoulder was beginning to ache. Jenny started the engine.

“Tom, I don’t know. I’m not safe to be around. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

I tried to reach across to touch her, but instead winced with pain.

“Honey, we’ll just have to be more careful…slower…it was my fault,” I said.

“It’s different with you,” she said. “Charlie was just, I don’t know, he wasn’t as in to it as you are.”

“Let’s go home,” I said.

As she pulled out of the parking lot I said, “You know, there is a solution.”

Jenny looked down at the speedometer and shook her head.

“You could make me a vampire.”

She looked at me and shook her head again. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“Maybe I don’t, but it might make it simpler. And, we’d be together…”

“No,” she said. “I’m not strong enough. If I fed on you, then tried to revive you, you’d just die. It’d take days. Demetrius showed me once. He did it to a man who really deserved to die a miserable death. Father fed on him, then gave him just enough of his blood to revive him but not make the change. It took him four days to die, four miserable days…”

My shoulder was really beginning to hurt. I leaned back in the seat for the rest of the ride home.

Chapter 13

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