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Bridget's Nights Ch. 01

By: patricia51



The internet is a wonderful thing. It allows you to meet people that never would have crossed your path. Tonight that meant Sandy. At least that was the name she gave me and I certainly had no intention of delving deeper into her real life. All I was interested in was tonight.

We had met in a chat room about 3 months previously. We had gotten to know each other in the usual way. We had exchanged names, then pictures, had wild cyber sex and shared sexual fantasies. Then came bits and pieces of personal information. She was a happily married mother of two adorable looking kids and had a pretty nice, if rather boring, guy for a husband. She was intensely bi-curious. She was afraid to have an affair with someone she knew, for obvious reasons. She was also afraid to just pick up some stranger. Ggain, the reasons were glaringly obvious. She had reached the point where online fantasies were not satisfying her cravings anymore.

I was as open with her as I possibly could be. I told her the truth, I was single and had been actively bisexual for a long time. I sent her my genuine pictures and told her what my actual preferences are when having female/female sex. We grew closer, and finally took the step of connecting with each other on the phone. Since she was the one with the most to lose, the first time we talked, I called her at a phone booth she had selected. It was a just brief conversation, designed only to insure we were both females.

She suggested we meet for a mutual look-over at a bar near her office where she sometimes stopped for a drink after work. If we both liked what we saw, we could adjourn to her office, which had its own discreet entrance. If not, we could go our separate ways. I did have to insist that we meet in the evening.

I arrived first that evening. I worried that I didn't make the greatest impression when this tall, slender blonde slipped in the entrance and saw me. Yes, I have the green eyes, red hair and fair complexion of my Irish roots. Faint freckles still dot my face, trying to give the lie to my age. I'm skinny, fairly flat-chested and was balancing the beer bottle in one hand with a cigarette in the other.

Sandy was just about as nervous as a woman could be. She was dressed for work, anyway, what I assume a successful woman accountant would wear, a Navy blue skirt and a blazer over a white blouse with a matching pair of heels. She sat down, crossed and uncrossed her attractive legs and bummed a cigarette from me. A mistake, as it turned out. One puff and she was choking.

For a moment I thought that was the end, that sheer embarrassment was going to drive her from the room. I plucked the cigarette from her fingers and pushed her drink to her. She gulped it and nearly choked again. Under the table I caught her hand in mine. I smiled, squeezed her hand and launched into a stream of inconsequencel small talk until she regained her poise. 

"I'm so sorry," she apologized. "I'm just so, so..."

"Nervous?" I offered. "Me too." She gave me a disbelieving look. "I am," I insisted. "I know we've talked and so forth, but you could have been some slavering maniac under your nice exterior. Obviously you're not." My knee found hers and we rested our clasped hands on them. She kept hold of my hand and my hopes returned.

There was some nervous chat but we both relaxed and began to enjoy ourselves. Our chairs inched closer and so did our legs. My hand began to slowly stroke her knee and then inched up her thigh. Her hand continued to rest on mine at first and then began to explore my own leg. I saw the excitement building in her eyes, a feeling I was sure was matched in my own. We gathered ourselves and our belongings and I discreetly followed her out the door and to the side of her office building.

We locked the door behind us. Sandy had told me there would not be anyone else in the building, but she peeked out into the darkened hallway anyway. The sight of her skirt tightening across her ass as she bent forward made up my mind. It was time to start. I slipped behind her and as she straightened, I put one arm around her waist. My lips went to her ear and my tongue dipped inside it. My other hand pushed the door gently closed before it moved to the swell of her ass and began to work the zipper of her skirt down. It feel in a pool around her feet, leaving her lovely legs and firm ass clad only in her stockings and French cut black lace panties.

Within the few steps I needed to reach her, I had shed my dress. My hand curled around her waist to meet its mate and then they both rose to slide under her bra and cup her breasts. She turned her head to kiss me and leaned back against my body. I toyed with her nipples and sucked on her tongue until she wiggled around to face me. She managed to unfasten my bra and drug it down my arms with shaking fingers as I all but tore hers off. Our panties followed.

We reeled across the floor to a huge, comfortable looking leather executive chair. I pushed her into it and fell on top of her. I hooked her legs over the spreading arms of it and ground myself into her open pussy. She almost screamed when my clit met hers but I managed to smother the cry with my mouth.

Our hard nipples scraped up and down on each others as I thrust my pelvis against hers. Slapping, sucking noises rose along with the incredible aroma of two aroused women. My hips rose and fell against her and she humped up to meet me until our bodies locked together and both of us came.

She sagged back into the chair. I wasn't even done however. As she trembled I slowly slid my body down hers. There was a moment when my face was pressed between her breasts that I almost lost control, but I managed to keep going. My tongue and lips found their way down her stomach and over the swell of her mound. I lifted her legs over my shoulders, leaning up and into her, raising her ass into the air. I covered her wet pussy lips with my mouth and my tongue went to work.

This is what I had been waiting to do. I knew this is what she had been wanting to experience for her first time. I held her in place and alternated sucking her puffy lips into my mouth and running my tongue deeper and deeper into her open slit. Her hands slid down her back and helped push her hips to me, riding herself up and down on my face.

She bucked in the broad leather chair as my tongue grazed over and over her clit. My hands clenched and unclenched, massaging her firm ass and keeping her wet sex pressed right up to my face. I alternated darting my tongue inside her in short, quick jabs with broader strokes the rasped up and down her open slit. I slid one finger past my tongue, then another. Twisting and turning my wrist, I felt her body tense. I pushed my fingers inside her and added the thumb of my other hand. One swipe was sufficient to coat it in her juices. I pulled it out and in one swift motion drove it up her ass.

Her head rolled back and her hips lifted to meet my fingers. As she did, my lips slid down the inside of her thigh. Just above her stocking top I sensed the presence of her hammering pulse. My needle-like fangs punctured her skin with barely any resistance at all to lodge in her femoral artery.

As I expected, the rush of her orgasm was so intense she never felt the additional penetration of her body. Her senses were overwhelmed. Her continued flailings and muffled cries were the result of my ministrations to her pussy and ass, not in response to my bite. By the time her body calmed enough to recognize anything else, she was already slipping into unconsciousness.

I finished feeding and withdrew from her leg. Good. The tiny puncture marks were barely noticeable. Even if someone suspected what had happened, they would be looking for the traditional neck marks. I have always tried to avoid them whenever possible.

The next step was to police up the area. I got a washcloth from the bathroom off the hallway and carefully cleaned her. I replaced her underwear and adjusted her clothing. I took her stockings off and placed them in a handy drawer. I found a pair of flats, slipped them on her feet and put her heels in the closet where the other shoes had been. I didn't want it to look like she was meeting a lover here, after all. I turned her computer on and wiped any traces of our correspondence from it. I pulled out files and spread them around the desk, placing one in her lap, open with her hands in it. I opened the bottom drawer of her desk and propped her feet on it, crossing her ankles.

I looked carefully around the room. No blood, no sign of an intruder, no hint of my presence. It was time to go. I carefully checked her one more time. Her pulse was slow but regular and her breathing was normal. Leaving only the desk lamp on, I slipped through the outside door, feeling more than hearing the lock catch behind me. She would be fine in the morning, although still dizzy from the low blood pressure that had caused her to pass out tonight. She would be relieved to find I was gone. She might even see a doctor and get a checkup. For a certainty, she would remember her first lesbian experience.

What? You expected me to kill her? To drink all of her blood until she was an empty lifeless form? What do you think I am; a soulless, undead, bloodsucking monster?

Two out of four isn't bad. I don't care for the term "undead", I prefer "immortal". However I have to admit that the first term is correct. I don't breath, my heart doesn't beat and what flows in my veins is only borrowed. And yes, I do drink blood. Just try to think of me as someone needing a lot of transfusions. I'd be perfectly happy to subsist from the local blood bank but I can't. There's a nationwide shortage of blood. Don't any of you ever see the Red Cross ads asking for donations?

However, I am hardly soulless and I resent the hell out of being called a monster. Except for a few changes that occurred after a strange encounter a few hundred years ago, I'm still Mrs. O'Brien's youngest and favorite daughter Bridget. I like music, dancing, enjoy good Irish whiskey and fine story telling. I am still a flirt, not ready to settle down with another vampire (there you go again, a couple of my friends are very happily married) and I like the company of both sexes. I still have a soul and a conscience. Geesh. I still attend Mass for God's sake, although my annual confession at Easter has more than once seen the priest admonish me to stop telling whooping great lies in church. However, better that than being chased out of the confessional by someone screaming "Unclean Spirit" and trying to drive a stake through my heart. I'm a vampire, not a demon. I just have a severe allergy to sunlight and a body that only manages to nourish itself in one specific way.

Incidentally I can't fly. Not in my human form anyway (Gotcha. Its the only form I have. I do NOT turn into a bat. I'm sure it would ruin my makeup). I AM stronger than a normal person and yes, I will continue living (wrong term but I don't know what else fits) for the foreseeable future. By the way, I have no idea what occurs after death. I have no memories of anything that took place between passing out with this guy's fangs in my throat and waking up in a coffin. Ugh. Serta Perfect Sleeper is MY idea of where to spend the night.

There are several reasons why I don't kill humans. First and foremost, I am not a murderer. Few vampires are. Even for those without moral compunctions about killing, leaving the landscape littered with dead bodies is not an option. It draws attention. It can get you burned at the stake, not an ending that appeals to me, especially after how close I came to that very end in Budapest in 1620.

Second, if you're not very careful, you'll create more vampires. Don't act surprised that we don't consider that a "Good Thing". Think about it, the more vampires there are, the more people will get bitten. Eventually you run out of humans and then where do we get our blood? Animals only do as a short term solution, we need human blood. I have no idea why. Ask God maybe. Ask the government.

Oh yes, the government. You don't think the government doesn't know we exist? Of course they do. For quite a while now. We have an informal, but strongly enforced agreement with them. We keep low, behave ourselves and they don't wipe us out. There aren't that many of us, for reasons I just explained. In return, we do certain things for the government. After all, we're Americans too. Someone who walks through poison gas and can get loaded down with bullets without suffering any harm can be very useful to all different agencies. I have an old friend, Robert, who works for the FBI. I am very fond of him, even if he was born in England. We cross paths off and on, particularly since I'm employed by another branch of the government, specifically the Agency. Hey, a girl's gotta make a living doing something.

I settled into the leather captain's chair behind the wheel of my panel van. Its plain on the outside, but very nicely appointed inside. The advantage is obvious. Only a couple windows and curtains provide safety in case I haven't made it safely home before sunrise. I wanted a drink, of whiskey damn it, hasn't anyone been paying attention? However, I don't drink and drive. Instead, I started the engine and headed out of town to the motel on the interstate where I had made reservations.

I smiled as I drove. Sandy had been lovely, sexual and tasty too. I was set for several days now, as I had also recently snacked on a Goth college student who was something very unusual, a repeat. Almost monthly she and I made love, the climax of which was my drinking about a pint of her as I pinned her under me and cunt fucked her. Sometimes I worry that I'm getting kinky. Vampire sure, but explain something like THAT to your Parish priest.

My cell phone rang as I pulled into the motel parking lot. Again, I'm old-fashioned. My phone doesn't sing or dance or play a selection of musical hits. It just rings. I do have Caller ID though. I had stayed there the night before so I parked and went right in as I glanced at the display.

"Hi Robert. What's going on with my favorite G-Man?"

"I hope you're inside because the sun's about to come up where you are. Did you leave that nice accountant in reasonable shape?"

I swear, he has got to show off how easily he can track me. Time to search the van for bugs again. I love Robert, in fact we've got quite intimate fairly often over the last 150 odd years, but I still don't want him to be aware of my every move. 

"I am and I did Robert. Please, no games darling, I'm full and I'm tired."

"Well, get a good day's sleep and head towards Washington. You're going to be busy." His bantering tone had turned serious. "You're back on the payroll fulltime. Someone's gone wild."

I groaned. "Going Wild" happens when a vampire loses her or his restraint and starts killing, often indiscriminately. The best people to stop someone like that are, you guessed it, other vampires.

"I'll be on the road at nightfall, Robert. Stay in touch." I clicked off the phone and tossed it on the bed. I locked the door and headed for the bottle by the sink. Now I really needed a drink.

(To Be Continued)

(Thanks to Dot for her encouagement and to Marian for her editing. I know I have taken liberties with the popular concepts of vampires. That's okay, after all, they are just myths. Aren't they?)

Bridget's Nights Ch. 02



The music was just as I liked it; loud, fast, hammering my ears. The deep bass rhythm had my body moving on its own. My hands were raised over my head as my whole body twisted to the beat.

The two guys I was dancing with were enjoying it too. I could tell. The one in front of me kept his body moving along with mine. His hands were on my sides and the straining bulge of his slacks kept brushing the front of my leather pants.

The guy dancing behind me was even less subtle. His hands were locked onto my hips and he was pressing a truly amazing hardon against the skin tight material covering my ass. If I had bothered with underwear his cock probably could have traced the outlines of any panties, as it rubbed up and down between my cheeks.

I really wished I had the time to carry either, or both of them, away and let them do to me as they wanted. Hell, the light was so dim in here they probably could have both fucked me without anyone noticing. I could deal with that, except that I knew damn well that as soon as I tried that I would end up having to take action. Besides, I couldn't tell where Robert was in the crowd and the poor darling gets so embarrassed when I act like this.

There was no time for all that anyway, and it wasn't why I was here. This was the fifth nightclub in as many nights that I and my covering force had visited. I wasn't here looking to get laid, although I planned to do that too after duty hours. I was here hunting.

Six nights ago, in response to Robert's phone call, I had driven from the scene of my recent tryst with a female accountant named Sandy in Kentucky up to Washington, D.C. I had parked a few blocks away from the J. Edgar Hoover Building and walked to a little used entrance on the side of the building. I had shown my Agency credentials and finally been let in after several phone calls and a 20 minute wait. But then the Agency/Bureau feud goes all the way back to the 1940's. When I was in the OSS I once got caught in the middle of it, but that's a story for another time.

I was shown into a windowless office. From the pictures, knickknacks and the nameplate that read "Special Agent R.A. Dale", I figured out it was Robert's office. I sat down behind his desk and put my feet up on it, just in time for him to come in.

He was talking over his shoulder to a gaggle of standard G-Men, neatly-dressed white men in their 30's. I caught a glimpse of a really cute Asian female in the hallway but I was diverted by Robert's warm greeting.

"Get your feet off my desk." Suiting actions to words he caught my ankles and dumped my legs on the floor. He never even commented about what great legs they were, darn him. He waved a folder at the table set up in the middle of the office and introduced me to his associates. They didn't seem happy to meet me. I wasn't sure if that was because I'm a vampire, or because I'm CIA.

Some people are very leery about working with vampires. I suppose you can't blame them. After all, when was the last time you got a solid recommendation from anyone about us? However all of these guys looked as comfortable as one could expect sitting in a room with one doorway and two of us between it and them. Perhaps its because Robert has been with the FBI for around 60 something years and I guess enough agents have worked with him to feel like he's one of the guys, just with a peculiar requirement for nourishment. Its different at the Agency, but we run through a lot more people.

Robert doesn't often waste words. He didn't tonight either. "Gentlemen, this is Bridget O'Brien. She generally works for another branch of the government but has been attached to the Bureau to assist us in seeking out the killer who's been doing this." He passed around a series of photos. Even I turned green at what had been done to some of the women in the pictures.

"Just so its clear to all of you," Robert continued, "We're dealing with a vampire gone wild. That's why I'm running this operation. It takes one to catch one." Heads nodded around the table, proving that everyone there was both acquainted with Robert and unfazed by what he was.

One of the agents looked at me. "How about her? Is she..." he let his question trail off.

"Yes," Robert said flatly. "She's completely trustworthy." He let his stone face crack for a second. "At least as much as we can trust a spook." He winked at me. I appreciated the remark. I knew he had done it to make me seem "more human" to them.

For the next 30 minutes Robert summarized the case. Someone was killing young attractive women up and down the East Coast. The bodies showed all the classic symptoms of a vampire attack. The plan was for me to act as bait. I was close enough in appearance to fit his favorite type of target. Using a female agent had been ruled out as too dangerous. I, at least, could meet the killer on relatively even grounds.

"Bridget? Are you in?"

I didn't see as if I had any choice. If we didn't catch this guy, guy being a supposition right now, than other means would have to be employed. And those means could be noisy, messy and jeopardize our biggest secret and safeguard, that we exist. The fact that most of us are solid, tax-paying citizens would not keep a witch hunt from digging us all out and burning us at the stake. Sensitivity training doesn't include the undead.

Besides, Robert had saved my life once while he was working undercover in the 60's. Woodstock had seemed like a great place to relax, finish my healing from a spectacular explosion in Southeast Asia and listen to some great music. And incidentally to get laid and sample the various vintages of O positive available.

It had gone great for most of the festival. Since a lot of people slept, or were passed out during the day anyway, it wasn't obvious that I was only seen at night. I had been having a great time. Sex, rock and roll, and warm blood, in very small amounts from any one person. The next to the last night, a girl I knew only as Flower had invited me to her place. I had met three other people, forgetting all their names in the process of shedding our clothes.

I do have to admit that as great as the 60's were for casual sex, I missed seduction, whether I was being seduced or doing the seducing. But there advantages to suddenly having four nude bodies, both sexes of which I enjoyed, pulling my clothes off. I had a choice to make, I thought, guy or girl first?

As it turned out, they made the decision for me. Since I was already stretched out on a blanket after the impromptu "Undress Bridget" party, Flower pulled my head right in between her legs. She started humping her pussy on my face. Well I know when I'm wanted. I rolled on my side to get a better angle and began to rapidly stroke her open pussy with the flat of my tongue.

While I was eating Flower, I felt two more bodies settle on each side of me. Who they were, sex wise anyway, was answered when I felt one hard cock bump against my belly and another one slide down my back. One pair of hands settled on my tits and the other pair pulled my cheeks apart. I was about to become the filling in a Bridget sandwich. Not that I minded it a bit, although I hoped the guy about to put his rod up my ass had lubed it with something.

Judging from the back and forth touch of the two guys, the missing other female was providing that. The groans, moans and remarks like "Suck it baby", indicated she was down below somewhere blowing each of the guys in turn. So when the first guy lifted my right leg in the air, wiggled his cock against the lips of my pussy and gave a heave, it went right in me. All the way in me. Damn, he must have been, well, I don't rate my lovers by their length but his was just right. By the time he had given me a dozen thrusts his cock was already deep in my cervix and the head was touching my G-spot.

I responded by growling deep into Flower's sweet, open pussy. When the second guy's swollen head forced its way through my anal ring I almost bit her right where I was licking her. My fangs did drop and graze along her labia before I could get myself under control. I concentrated on the taste of her juices already running down over my face as number two finally popped his head inside my ass and took that as a sign to see if his cock could meet the first guy's somewhere inside of me.

The guys settled down to seriously fucking me. First one would slam home in my pussy as the other one's hips pulled back. Then the cock in my ass would drive in until his groin slapped against my ass cheeks and the first cock almost, but not quite, pulled out of me. Every thrust drove my tongue farther up inside Flower's soaking cunt until I thought my face would disappear inside her. Its a good thing I don't need to breathe.

As wild as I was, I wanted to use everything on everyone. I slid one finger past my tongue inside Flower, wetting it. I trailed the trickle of her wetness until my questing finger found her puckered hole. She must not have been as used to ass fucking as I am (hardly a surprise, after all, I've been taking cocks and dildos there for centuries) because her ass tried to keep my finger out. It didn't manage that and my hand bumped between her globes as that finger speared her. She responded by forcing my face even deeper in her pussy. I hadn't thought it was possible. It was. I swear my tongue must have been reaching her liver by now.

The question of where the missing fourth person had gone to was answered when she caught up my free hand and put it right on her pussy. I had to do very little as she arranged my hand so my thumb was on her clit and she directed three fingers up inside her. That was good, because by now I was so lost as to whom was doing what I couldn't have given myself a proper fingering, much less someone else.

The guys had lost their rhythm, then regained it. Instead of going back and forth now though, they were meeting each other as though the objective was to flatten me between them. I was sure that both cock heads had to be touching when both of them buried up in me at the same time. I was completely lost and didn't care if they continued all night and day.

They couldn't of course. First one cock emptied itself in me, then the other. I must have been awash in cum because when they both finally fell away from me I felt it all over the place. Flower drowned me at almost the same time, and the other girl locked her muscles so hard on my fingers that I thought she was taking them with her for souvenirs. In the midst of all that cumming I'm not sure anyone even noticed that my orgasm was quite spectacular in itself.

Once everyone had settled down, actually passed out, I sampled each of my new friends in turn. I wasn't really hungry, it was more like having a sandwich and coke after sex to regain your strength. I took just small amounts from each one, being careful not to use the same place to feed. Once you understand anatomy, there are a number of places beyond the neck to draw blood from. It makes it much less likely they would all wake up later and say "Hey, we've all been bitten by a vampire." Not that I was sure they would even care.

It was only a short time later that I began to feel really peculiar. My head swam and I started hearing voices. A beautiful sunrise seemed to be in the offing, along with the swirl of colors and sounds I was experiencing. I staggered outside the tent and wandered off to tell someone about the wonders of my fingers and toes. Then it really got strange and I must have passed out.

I woke up with an incredible headache and the sight of Robert glaring down at me didn't help. I did giggle at the sight of my usually neatly groomed old friend in a beard and sandals. The giggling hurt.

"You dumb bimbo." Nobody but Robert could call me a bimbo and have it come out both as a term of endearment and a stinging rebuke at the same time. "What did you think you were doing?"

"What do you mean?" I croaked. With a disgusted look he handed me a glass of ice water and four aspirins. "I found you strolling around the grounds up by the bandstand, singing and announcing to everyone 'I can FLYYYYYY'. The sun was already on the horizon and you were so stoned you told me I should watch it with you because it would be 'outta sight, man'." I winced. He didn't let up. "You should know better than to feed from drunks, or from people on a variety of illegal substances."

I should have. As it turned out, the quartet I had such a splendid time with had also been using LSD. I saw purple clouds and heard really weird music off and on for 20 years.

I jerked my attention back to the present. Everyone was looking at me. Robert had a calm expectation in his eyes.

"Okay, I'm in," I replied.

So that's how I came to be in this club, wearing spray-painted-on pants and a vest that wasn't doing a very good job of holding even my modest set of boobs in.

I could feel Robert out there somewhere in the crowd and was reassured as always by his presence. I knew he was probably blushing whenever he looked at me. The two guys had me sandwiched now, pinned between them and all three of us moving back and forth as one. Both of their rigid cocks were practically already inside me. I don't mind a crowd, especially if I'm the center of attention but this might be too much, at least right now. I wondered if I could get their phone numbers and arrange a menage-a-tois some other time.

Then I caught it. The faint odor of blood. Fresh blood. A human could have never picked it out from the myriad of other scents even had it been a hundred times stronger, but I could tell. I lifted my head and breathed deeply, trying to determine direction. It was there, off to my left. I racked my brain. What was in that direction?

The answer hit me and I was moving. Both guys went sprawling. I didn't even have time to apologize as I forced my way through the heaving crowd. I snatched the tiny hidden mike from inside my vest.

"Robert," I all but screamed, trying to get through the noise of the club. "The back door and the alleyway." 

When I dressed like a rogue vampire slayer (how ironic I thought, after all, it was one of my favorite shows), there had been a debate about the mike. I agreed to wear it but refused to wear an earpiece. No matter how good its concealment, I'd be so close to people it would have stood out like, well, a vampire in church. So I had no idea if Robert had heard me. I could only pray.

I managed to get through the crowd. There were some big strong people there but no one who could match my greater than human strength, coupled with my determination. I reached the loading door and saw the wires that should have set off the alarm were torn away.

The blood scent was incredibly strong now. I gave one glance behind me. Nobody there. I threw the door open and rushed outside.

I looked both ways and then saw him. I was sure it was a him. He had a dark haired girl I had seen earlier pinned against the wall, his face at her throat. She was still alive, her hands striking feebly at him but I could tell it wouldn't be long. After all, he didn't care. He wasn't trying to judge how much blood he took and err on the side of caution. He was there for a kill.

I jumped him. He was so enthralled he didn't know I was there until I tore him away from her and thrust him down the alley towards the street.

He attacked back. "Bitch," he growled as one arm all but flattened me as it caught my shoulder. I shook my head. Damn, that HURT, I thought, as I flung myself back on him. I ducked my head and tried to wrap him up in my arms. With any luck I could hold him for the few moments that I hoped were all that would be required until the cavalry arrived. 

I couldn't. To say that he was inhumanly strong seems to belabor the point, but his strength was as far beyond mine as mine was above a normal human. In one motion he slammed me against the wall so hard I saw stars. he reached for me and I thought I wasn't going to see the end of my 5th century. Then he was running down the alley as Robert and two human FBI agents poured out of the door to the club.

Our unknown vanished in a hail of gunfire. If any of the wooden bullets the three agents were using took effect, I couldn't tell. I had a problem of my own. I had fallen against the woman he had been feeding from. My face was against her neck, right where the blood was still trickling and the scent was overpowering me. My head ringing from the blow of the brick wall, I unconsciously extended my fangs and dropped my head to her.

"NO! Bridget, stop. She can't take any more blood loss." Robert pulled me away in one not ungentle move. He threw his arms around me and held me until I was able to regain control of myself. I was shaking and refusing to let myself weep. I hate losing control like that.

In short order we had an ambulance there to take the victim to the hospital. The area was cordoned off and a careful search started. Most of the agents involved had worked with Robert before and knew to be very careful even before when he explained how the attacker had manhandled me. They knew I was a girl, but they also knew how strong even a female vampire is, and that physically they were no match for him.

"They won't find anything. DAMN," I cursed. "I had him and I couldn't hold him."

"I'm just glad you were in time and that you're going to be okay," Robert assured me. He studied his notebook. "The description is vague, Bridget. Caucasian male, apparent age around 30, 6 foot, three inches, dark hair and fair skinned. Any thing else? how about his eyes?"

"Gray," I answered. "Like looking through a mile of ice they were so cold." I looked at my friend, partner and sometimes lover. "Robert, he scared the hell out of me. And I don't like that. We're going to find this son-of-a-bitch and he's going to be toast."

(To be continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 03



After the abortive attempt to catch our killer vampire, Robert and I went into a huddle and decided to separate. No matter how we managed to catch up with this guy, we were going to need serious back up when we did. There are two organizations that train to deal with vampires gone wild. Since the first was the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team, Robert headed to Quantico. As my Agency time had included stints with the Army Special Forces all the way back to Southeast Asia, I caught a ride with him. The FBI plane dropped me off at Pope Air Force Base in NC where I picked up the government car waiting for me and drove to next door Ft Bragg.

The duty officer at the Special Warfare Center obviously wasn't used to having females from the CIA show up at 2 in the morning. Nevertheless, he called the field duty officer and tried to make me feel comfortable while we waited for him to show up. He offered me coffee or a soda. Had he offered "me" along with those I might have accepted. He was cute. I did always have a thing for deep dark eyes and uniforms, especially combined with a lean, muscled body. In some ways he reminded me of that young Lieutenant I had shared time with, in and out of bed, when we were both in South Vietnam.

I was covered in those days as a reporter for UPI. I know that the law forbids CIA operatives from acting as members of the media, but I did it anyway. Maybe it only applies to live agents. I was not involved in the Phoenix Project or anything like that. I was an information gatherer only. I identified various members of the VC infrastructure to the Special Operations Group at MACV. I also supplied information of the Saigon underworld to the MP's and the local police. If during this, a few leading members of say, a child prostitution ring, disappeared, then it was no one's business but my own.

I had met Myron while doing a story on the LRRP's (Long Range Recon Patrols) that later became the Rangers. The intense, driven officer had caught my eye. Fortunately I had caught his eye also and he was able to come to Saigon often enough to make our time together worthwhile.

At first he was the perfect gentleman. I was raised in the old country traditions. Women worked hard, very hard, and died young back then. But my father never treated my mother as anything less than a lady, regardless of the thatched cottage we called home. I expected the same from the men I chose to be with.

I had lured men to my bed before. I had sought information with the implied promise of my bed. Recently I had been forced to deal with an NVA Lieutenant Colonel who thought our exchange of information merited that bed. I can be seduced. I have no prejudices of race or color or sex. I am not some camp follower to be taken in the name of "Liberation" though. He tried to force me. Neither he nor his bodyguards were ever found. I have said that I am not a murderer. I never said I wasn't a killer. That night I had fed without regret.

Myron and I began to see each other. Even if it was just stopping by my office when he came to Saigon, I looked forward to any time I got to spend with him. We went out several times, to eat, to shop, just to wander the streets of Saigon. One unforgettable night we went to a wonderful French restaurant. Previously I had argued him into letting me pay. I, after all, was the one on the expense account. This time he insisted. I knew that he would not dream of believing this entitled him to sexual recompense. That in itself made me promise myself that tonight he would end up in my bed.

After the meal we danced. We danced slowly, feeling the heat between us build hotter than the still night around us, hotter than the jungles that lay too near. I couldn't stand it anymore. As the band broke for a breather, I went to our table and picked up my purse. I looked at him. He dropped money on the table, his eyes never leaving mine and we walked hand in hand into the night.

Tonight I was being lured as much as I was luring. I had no motive other than to be with Myron. I did not seek him for his blood. I sought him because I cared for him. Whatever he wanted tonight I would try to give him.

We entered the compound where I lived, then my bungalow. I remember him taking it all in. I smiled when he called it my "Hootch". Then he took me in his arms and I thought of nothing but him.

He kissed me, softly at first, then more urgently and demandingly as the tension between us built to a breaking point. I could feel his pulse throbbing all through his body. It was so powerful I swore my unbeating heart responded. His hands stripped the clothes from my body, lingering on my cool skin as each garment fell away. Somehow, by the time I was nude so was he.

He lifted me in his arms and slowly carried me to the bed. He set me down and just stood for a moment, his eyes running up and down my body with a sensuality that was almost a physical caress. He pushed my legs apart and knelt between them. His hands ran up my stomach to my breasts and he leaned forward to kiss me again. And again.

We were both covered in a sheen of perspiration. It felt so good on my body. It made me warm. His strong arms surrounded me and his rough callused hands caught me under my back and lifted my body in an arch. His tongue drew larger and larger circles over my breasts, beginning on the nipples and moving out. His mouth drew each one deep into his mouth, suckling them and then releasing them into the cool air from the ceiling fan. 

Oh, he knew how to make love. His kisses between my breasts, trailing down over my stomach , inch by inch, driving me wild with passion. I surrendered myself to him, begging and pleading with him to take me. His lips passed over my wet sex. His head slowly moved around in tiny circles as his tongue stroked me until I was ready to overpower him and take him.

He felt it. He knew I was perched on the edge of a delicious madness. He released my body. For one moment that lasted for hours, it seemed, he was poised above me. His cock touched my open pussy. Then with one long deliberate motion he entered me.

I screamed with that very first penetration. He filled me, not just with his cock but with his entire being. His mouth took mine even as his shaft possessed me. Our tongues wrapped around each other, our bodies melted into one. His cock deep inside me made me a part of him. Our bodies slipped and slid along each other until he finally emptied his hot seed in me. 

Even in the throes of my orgasm, with his face buried in my neck and my mouth right over his throbbing jugular, my fangs never dropped. Had I been perishing from starvation I could not have bitten him. All I needed was him.

When he finally fell asleep that night, I couldn't. I had pillowed my head on his chest, my fingers tracing the muscles there, listening to the beat of his heart. I wanted to stay there, not just for that night, but nights and years of nights to come. 

Oh dear lord, I was falling in love with him. It wasn't possible. Vampires don't fall in love with mortals. Even if I revealed what I was and he could accept it, there was no future for us. He would grow old and die while I went on.

Someone might impatiently ask why I didn't make him a vampire along with me. No matter the love that I felt, I could not take away the sun, his family, his friends; as were taken from me. Even if he agreed, asked for it, I could not do it. I wanted to hear that heartbeat. I wept quietly in the night.

I told him nothing of what was in my heart. I believed he knew it though, and it struck a chord in him too. I didn't know what to do but to string things out as long as I could. When you live forever you tend to look far ahead. I just looked forward to the next time I saw him.

One evening we returned to the restaurant where we had had our first real date. His tour was going short and I knew that soon a decision of some kind would have to be made. We stood on the veranda, enjoying the night air as we waited for our table.

I turned my head and saw a familiar face dropping off the side of the porch. Recognition dawned as I realized he was a VC sapper I had seen once while interviewing a senior member of that organization. I inhaled deeply, through my nose, to catch the variety of smells in the direction of the restaurant. Mingled with the ever present nuc-mong sauce and a number of other scents was an acrid smell. I froze for one long instant as I realized it was a fuse burning.

I turned and grabbed Myron and pitched him down the steps away from the doorway. "Get down," I screamed. I should have followed my own advice. Instead, I flung myself in the door. If I could just get to the bomb I knew was there...

I didn't. I never even heard the explosion. I just saw the fireball coming towards me, and then nothing at all. 

Consciousness returned. Where the hell was I? I asked myself that question when I woke up in a mausoleum in 1573 and it seems to keep coming back to me every so often. I very rarely like the answer. This time was one of the worst ones.

I groaned. I seemed to be lying on a steel plate, or slab of sometime. I was nude too. Now I've often awoken that way, but I didn't like the implications of that at all this time. I hurt all over, as bad or worse than I ever have in 4 plus centuries. 

It sure was dark in here. I felt around me with my hands. Oh shit, metal surrounding me very closely on all sides. Very reminiscent of a coffin in fact. I was hyperventilating, even though I don't need to breathe. Buried alive doesn't do much for a vampire. Kind of hard to feed 6 feet under.

My hands shoved against the confining walls and suddenly I moved. There was the faint squeak of wheels and I felt colder air blow across my body. I knew I was in a larger room. I swung my legs over the side of the whatever-the-hell I was on and dropped to the floor. Actually, I fell very ungracefully to the floor. I didn't expect to be 5 feet up in the air.

The clatter I made gave rise to rapid footsteps in what I guessed was an outside hallway. I heard a door open, and my ears caught the sound of a switch being thrown. I was hoping for lights, but nothing penetrated my darkness.

"Who's there?" called a shaky male voice. There was a pause and he must have seen me crouched on the floor because he added, "Oh My GOD." I heard him retreat from the room, screaming for a Doctor Johnston as he did.

I tried to push myself up on my feet. Wherever the hell I was and whatever the hell was going on, I knew I would be safer if I was standing. I managed to get up by holding on to the handles of a series of what seemed to be cabinet drawers.

Footsteps. All I could tell was it was more than one man. Why the hell couldn't I see who it was? I passed my arm across my eyes to no avail.

"Look Doctor Johnston. Right there!" I was sure I was some kind of sight, particularly since I realized I was nude, but damn, why was he in such a panic? I didn't think I could look that bad.

"Mary Mother of God," I heard one of the newer arrival say. Well, another Catholic. That was encouraging in a way. "Miss, I'm Doctor Johnston."

"Great, nice to meet you Doctor Johnston. I'm Bridget and where the hell am I and where are my clothes?" I stiffened as I sensed two men trying to close in on me, one from each side. They probably thought they were being silent. They weren't.

"Tell me what you remember."

Great, guessing games. I tensed as I felt the men come closer. "Whoever you guys are, you need lessons in sneaking up. Don't make me hurt you."

There was a snort from one man, but the first voice I had heard piped up from the doorway. "Bill, listen damn it. She got up off the slab. Damn it, she was dead."

Uh-oh. I wheezed and then cleared my throat. "Ah, am I to understand that I'm in the morgue?" There was no answer. Shit, I was.

I was distracted enough for the guys to suddenly close on me. When I threw them both across the room, something went with them. My guess was it was a straightjacket. Not that it would have held me, of course.

"Okay, enough bullshit. I said I didn't want to hurt you all, not that I couldn't. Doctor, if you're in charge, go call MACV Headquarters. Ask for extension 2662. That will connect you to the Special Operations Group. Talk to Colonel Elwood. Tell him the circumstances and use the code word 'Bridget400'. He'll know what to do and what to tell you to do." 

There was more hesitation and then the Doctor ordered everyone to the doorway. A couple people helped the guys I had tossed. I felt my way into a corner and prepared to wait.

I don't know how long I crouched in the corner until the footsteps returned, bringing with them a familiar scent. "Bridget? My God, we thought you were gone, blown to pieces." The footsteps started towards me.

"No, Colonel, don't come too close." I knew my voice shook. "I'm in a lot of pain and my body is demanding food. I'm not sure I can control myself."

"Its okay Bridget. From the hurried description I pried out the good Doctor here, I had a feeling what must be going on." He turned to the small crowd that had gathered and commanded. "Everyone out of here. Doctor Johnston, would you please stay? We're going to need you." When the door had closed, Colonel Elwood continued. "Doctor Johnston, I must ask your word that you will never reveal what you are about to see. I can't get one of the CIA doctors in here right now and Bridget needs medical attention."

"You have my word Colonel. Besides, if I treat her then the issue becomes one of Patient/Doctor confidentiality."

"Thank you Doctor. You're going to be shocked." I heard a rustle and then something slid across the floor to me. Two somethings in fact. I scooped one up, recognizing it as a plastic bag used to store whole blood. I bit savagely into it and drank.

"Oh my GOD," I heard the doctor gasp from across the room. I knew I must have the appearance of every human's nightmare of my kind, but just then I didn't care. I drained the first bag and groped for the second one.

"Good God, she's a vampire!" A touch of hysteria was in Doctor Johnston's voice. Who could have blamed him? I drank the contents of the second bag. Overcome by all that was happening, I sank back against the wall.

"Yes, she's a vampire, Doctor Johnston. She's also a woman in the service of her country."

"Adopted country anyway," I managed to shakily inject. If I'm going to be the subject of a conversation I'm damn well going to participate in it. 

"You came to America in the early 19th Century, I think Bridget." Trust Colonel Elwood to know more about me than he should. Oh well. If I hadn't been under his control I would have rather enjoyed being under him in another way. "I would say that qualifies you as a citizen under pretty much anyone's criteria."

"Yeah, well, I can't be President." The repartee was too much. I sat back on the stone floor.

"How do you feel Bridget? Can Doctor Johnson safely examine your wounds?"

"Yes, I'm under control now."

The doctor approached me. I knew that he must be terrified. Alone in a morgue with a member of the undead and a Green Beret officer from a shadowy organization that had a pretty fearsome reputation. Not the most comforting scenario. He had courage though. Once he started examining me he pulled himself together like a true professional healer.

"I suppose that I don't need to take your pulse and blood pressure." I was surprised and actually laughed. "You have multiple wounds on the front of your body, including your face. I don't know anything about your specialized physiology, but does it hurt?"

Now that the shock was wearing off, it did hurt. In fact, it hurt a lot. I told him that.

"Do drugs affect your system?"

"Some do and some don't. Fortunately, caffeine does." 

He chuckled and I continued to relax. "How about morphine?"

"Yes it does. I know it does because I was acquainted with a vampire in London around the turn of the century who had become hooked on it."

"Okay then. With yours and the Colonel's permission, I'll give you some. We're going to have to dig to get all the fragments out of your body." He hesitated. "Some of these wounds are very deep. I can stitch them, but they might leave scars."

"They shouldn't," I replied. "Unless caused by fire, generally scars will disappear as the skin regenerates."

"Regeneration." He marveled. Well, that's good Bridget, because," he stopped for a moment and then plunged on, "because your eyes are damaged. You're blind."

I should have been more upset. I should have gone wild. Instead I found that I was slipping away from reality. Blind? Great, a vampire with a seeing eye dog maybe? The I began to wonder why I wasn't more upset. And why I was sinking backwards onto the floor, feeling completely boneless.

"Colonel? What did you put in the blood?"

"Just something to relax you Bridget. I didn't know how badly you were hurt or how much self control you might have, but when I heard where you were I knew it was going to be bad. Let Doctor Johnston do what he can. We're going to fly you to the States to a secure hospital where the doctors know a great deal about how to treat you. Rest assured, I won't let anyone hurt you."

I knew I could trust him. My thoughts were swirling around in my head. I desperately needed to ask something. I faded into the velvety blackness waiting for me before I could ask about Myron.

When I awoke, it was months later. My eyes had begun to heal and I could see blurred shapes by then. They kept me there, wherever "there" was, until I was about 95 percent and then sent me out on a year long convalescent leave. When I asked about Myron, the Agency contact simply shook his head.

I sat in an uncomfortable chair in the hallway outside of the duty officer's room, waiting for confirmation of my mission to be made. I still wondered what could have come of things if Myron had lived. Even after all these years I missed him, although those intervening years had offered no solution that could have overcome the barriers between us. Its strange. A vampire may live forever, but only mortals get to promise "always".

After another wait, I was escorted to the outer office of the Delta Force Commanding Officer and told he would be with me shortly. I hoped that was correct. Dawn was only a couple of hours away and I need to be someplace safe by then.

I was idly examining a series of pictures on the wall when I heard a firm, booted tread on the wooden floor and sensed someone behind me. I started to turn around, a polite smile on my face, as he spoke.

"Agent O'Brien, I'm Colonel Goldman. I understand that you have an important message for... Oh My God. BRIDGET!"

I stopped dead in the middle of my turn, my hand slightly outstretched to meet his similarly frozen hand. I said all I could think of to say.

"Myron."

(To Be Continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 04



Its not often that I am completely tongue-tied, especially after over 400 hundred years of talking at all opportunities. This was one of them. I stood there with my mouth open and my brain in a whirl. Here he was, alive, my god more than alive. "He still looked incredible", remarked the part of my brain that never seemed to sleep and always noticed these things.

"They told me you were dead," Myron said quietly, his eyes not leaving mine.

Oh, boy. I couldn't figure out to break the news to him 30 years ago and I still don't know how to do it. After all, they weren't lying to him, after a fashion. However, someone had certainly lied to the both of us.

"I was told the same thing," I answered him. I don't think I managed to keep my voice as steady as his.

"I suppose it had something to do with your job. Your real one, I mean. Not the UPI one. Nor the one that had to do with entertaining lonely Lieutenants far from home."

If he had slapped me I don't think I could have been more surprised. Or more hurt. I know that I actually flinched at his calm, cold words and probably would have flushed had I been physically capable of such an action. What had brought that on? I knew that the Company, to use an old euphemism, didn't always play well with the Army. But what had I ever done that caused him to act like this?

Regardless, this was not the time to deal with this. I could be just as calm as he was. I smothered my Irish temper and in a voice as cold and as controlled as his, I restarted the conversation.

"Colonel Goldman, if possible, I need to brief a select group of officers and NCOs concerning an extremely unusual threat they may be called on to assist with. I understand there is a conference room here in this building that would be perfect for my purposes. Would it be possible," I handed him a list of names, "To have this group of men available at say, zero nine hundred hours?"

Whatever reaction he expected from me, this was apparently not it. He blinked several times and jerkily nodded.

"Thank you. With your permission I will go there now and set up. Without waiting for an answer I turned on my heel and walked out.

At the appointed time, a group of officers and sergeants filed into the briefing room. Fortunately for me it was windowless, for security no doubt. I waited until everyone had taken their seats. Myron sat at the back of the room, his face expressionless.

"Good morning, gentlemen. Thank you for coming on such short notice. My name is Bridget O'Brien and I am an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency. Before I proceed, I need to verify that all present have a V21 endorsement to their security clearance. Would anyone who does not have that endorsement please leave the conference room at this time."

No one moved. "Okay then, I'm going to pass out a profile and description of an individual that the government wants. Not dead or alive. Simply dead. Maybe 'deader' is the proper word, as in 'deader than hell'. This is a serial killer who could possibly rival the worst ones of all time. For purposes of this type case, the provisions of the 'Posse Comitatus' Act have been excluded by a secret Act of Congress." 

A murmur swept through the room as I walked down the center aisle, passing out folders containing all the details we had so far. I returned to the stage in the front of the room. "Please look over this and then ask questions. This is exactly what that security endorsement I mentioned is for. Gentlemen, you may be need to help us, me, take down a vampire."

A powerfully built captain in the third row snorted. "Oh, come on now, Ms. O'Brien. I know that the government, and the spooks in general, come up with some very oddball notions, but this is too much. Vampires? Do you seriously expect us to accept such a ridiculous concept?"

Gosh, if I had planted him in the audience to ask this I couldn't have asked for a better opening. I walked down to where he was seated, on the aisle, even. I smiled at him.

"Captain, how big are you?"

A bit uncertainly, he replied "Six-two, 210 pounds."

"And what would you guess about me?"

"Five foot, three inches maybe. Right around 100."

"Right on the money." I reached down, caught the bottom of his chair with my left hand, and lifted him over my head. I turned and walked slowly back towards the platform, being careful not to drop him. I set him down, still in his chair, on the platform's edge. I looked at him and he turned pale. I knew the effort had caused my fangs to drop. I summoned up my courage and turned to face the rest of the troops. A gasp ran through the audience at the sight of my face.

"And I'm right handed." I refused to let my eyes settle on Myron, although I desperately wanted to study his reaction. Instead I resumed my place behind the podium. "Thank you Captain." Amazement written on his face, he stood, took his chair and went back to his original place.

"Any more questions on that subject?" I guessed there weren't. The silence was overwhelming. 

"There myths and there are realities when dealing with a killer such as this. First, they are extremely strong and extremely fast. You all saw that," I gestured towards the captain and at the same time flashed him a smile. "Let me tell you, the killer we are seeking is as much stronger than me as I am stronger than any of you. I'm quite frightened of him, having already met him at close range."

"Shit," came a low comment from the back of the room.

"A lot of what you think you know about vampires are folk tales. We're not deterred by crosses." I reached inside my blouse and pulled out the old silver cross I always wore around my neck. "We can cross running water. We don't sleep in coffins that we must be back to by daylight. We don't have to be invited into a house."

"As against that, we don't have mesmerism as a power to compel people to do what we want. I generally try flashing my legs for that." A chuckle ran through the group and I felt them relax slightly. More importantly, they were paying rapt attention now. "We can't change form. We can't summon other worldly creatures to our aid."

"Killing a vampire is pretty much what you think you know. A stake through the heart. I don't know why it has to be wood. Decapitation. The wounds caused by fire don't heal, so a flamethrower works just fine. And not at all least, exposure to direct sunlight does indeed cause us to end up as a pile of ashes. Indirect sunlight causes weakness and pain. I can't simply throw a blanket over my head and run around without harm."

"Bridget," Myron started. I cut him off.

"Ms. O'Brien, if you don't mind Colonel." Damn it, he started it. I could be just as snot-nosed as he could.

"Ms. O'Brien," he acknowledged. "You've made your case and given us a lot to think about. What exactly do you want from us? How can we help?"

"The primary responsibility for taking this guy down is mine and the FBI's. Their HRT practices for this. However, Delta Force is a designated backup. I plan to find this creature, but I can already tell you I can't handle him by myself. If I need to call you at all, well, in the back corner of your arms room is a sealed pallet of ammunition. Except for the fact that the actual bullets are wood, its identical in performance to your regular loads."

"Should you have to back me or someone else up, do what they tell you. Should you actually encounter this killer unexpectedly, well, what would you do if you suddenly came face to face with a terrorist?" There were smothered grins around the room. I nodded. "Shoot first, aim for the chest." I tapped my breast. "Right there. Destroy his heart and he's dead. This time for good. Even if you're using regular bullets, shoot a lot of them. It won't kill him, but it does hurt and enough can slow him down."

After a pretty lively question and answer period the meeting came to an end. I gathered up my materials and stuffed my briefcase. I snapped the catches and tried to think of how I was going to spend the next few hours. It wasn't like I could go anywhere. And come to think of it, I didn't have anywhere to go. If Robert had come up with any leads he would have called me already.

I felt him behind me before he spoke.

"Bridget, I'm sorry." He repeated himself. "I'm sorry. A lot has happened since that night in Saigon but I had no right to say what I did. Seing you brought back some memories I thought were buried. I lashed out at you. You didn't deserve to have me treat you like that."

I shrugged my shoulders without turning around.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Now I turned. I wasn't angry anymore or looking for a fight. "Tell you what? About what I really am? Oh, Myron, I thought about it. But what was I going to say? 'Hey, I'm a 400 year old woman who happens to be a vampire. But its okay because I'm really one of the good guys and I love you.' Maybe I should have. But I was so happy with what we had that I didn't want to take the slightest chance with it."

"You loved me." Damn, trust him to cut right to the heart of the manner.

"Yes I did."

"I loved you too." He sat down on the table, his legs dangling from it. "It hurt a lot when you were reported dead. It took me a long time to get over you." 

I sat beside him. "You did though, didn't you? Once I realized that it was you, I looked around your office. I saw the pictures. You, a woman, the two of you with children." I took his hand in mine. "I'm glad for you. Really," I assured him when he looked at me in surprise. "So," I smiled. "Where is she today? You all must live on post to have come as quickly as you did when they called you."

He was silent for a moment. "I live in the BOQ."

"The Bachelor Officers Quarters? But why?" The look in his eyes answered me. "Oh GOD. Myron, I'm so sorry."

"Twice," he said heavily. "Twice in one lifetime I lost the woman I loved." He passed his hand over his face. "Again, I'm sorry for acting up earlier. It wasn't you, it was just some bad memories of working with the CIA. And those memories in turn brought back ones of Ann. Not the happy ones, but the ones of when I lost her. I couldn't help but think of you at the same time and wonder what I had done to deserve it happening to me again." 

"Nothing Myron. I know you. For whatever reason she was taken from you, it wouldn't have been for anything you did."

He pulled out his wallet. "I still carry her picture." His wallet was stuffed. Pictures of the two of them. Pictures of her. Pictures of their beautiful children.

"She was very lovely Myron," I said as gently as I could. I strove to keep the natural jealousy I always felt out of my voice when I looked at the pictures of his children. "You can see her in all of them."

I guess I didn't do a very good job of keeping my voice under control. He looked at me in surprise. "Goodness Bridget. If I didn't know better I'd think you were jealous of her. She's dead and you're, well, I mean you are, but you're still here. How could you possibly be envious of her?" 

I couldn't believe I felt so damn sorry for myself. "You're damn right I'm jealous of her! She had it all, a man she loved and who loved her. Three beautiful children to watch grow up. She got to see the sunrise and the sunset." Tears spilled down my face. Why in God's name do tear ducts still work after death? Maybe its simple, maybe its because he knew we would still have to cry.

"I've been alive, or some facsimile of alive, for over 450 years. I've seen a lot; by moonlight, by candlelight. Never by sunlight. I've enjoyed the pleasure of the flesh, those that I can appreciate." I dashed my hand across my eyes. "Tear ducts work, taste buds don't. At least not well, anyway. What I eat I can't savor. What I drink I barely taste. Oh, that's right, except for blood. That comes in a delicious assortment of flavors and vintages."

I had not raged like this since I had slipped back to my house, years after being driven from it, when I found out my father was dying. My mother had gone on long before. I had desperately hoped for one last word from him, one hint that he knew that under what I had become was still his Bridget.

I didn't get that word then, I didn't expect it now. Then Myron's arms were around me and my head was on his chest. Again. It had been a long time. It felt good.

"Its okay. Shhhhhh." For several minutes, he wordlessly rocked me. "Bridget, I need to ask you one question."

"Why don't I walk out into the sunlight?"

He was embarrassed. "Yes."

"Maybe I'm too Catholic. Suicide is not my answer. When I don't stop and think about it too much, life is pretty good. I really do accomplish things. I'm a pretty good intelligence agent, have been ever since I first went to work for Allen Pinkerton during the Civil War. I like to think I'm serving my country, this country. And," I hesitated, "I'm one of those people who believe everyone has a reason to be, something to accomplish in life, or in my case, after life." I blushed. "And I do enjoy the pleasures of life." 

He tipped my face up to his. He brushed the tears away and kissed me. It brought back memories. Memories of warm nights and romance amid the destruction of war. Memories of a place of escape that was just the two of us.

He let me go and stood. I just had time to feel abandoned as he walked to the door before he looked over his shoulder and grinned. In that grin I saw the young man I had fallen in love with so long ago. I heard a bolt lock as he turned a knob on the door. He slipped a switch and walked back towards me.

"Now the sign is lit." He smiled. The uncertainty of it tugged at my heart. "It says 'No Entrance'." He paused. "Bridget, so much has changed."

I slid from the table and walked to him. "I know. But for right now, let it all go Myron. Its 1968 again and its just us." I put my arms around his neck, stood up on my tiptoes and kissed him. "Maybe we still can escape for an evening." Our kiss became open mouth and his hands began to roam over me.

This wasn't the wild love-making of our, of HIS, youth. This was slower. It was not the exultant sex of two young lovers, but rather the calm, almost unhurried movements of two old friends.

Once again we stripped the clothes from each other. This time it was slow as we savored each moment. His body was thicker, more heavily set than it was in days gone by. His arms circled me and pulled me against him with a strength I hadn't known from him before. His kiss was warm and inviting and I welcomed his tongue as it explored my mouth.

He grasped my hips and boosted me up onto the table. My butt just barely on the edge, I reached between his legs and grasped his cock. Since it was already stiffening, I leaned back just slightly. I lifted my legs in the air and drew him to me.

Once, twice, three times I rubbed the purplish head up and down between my lips. Then he simply leaned towards me and his cock slid home inside me as though it hadn't been 30 years. I boosted myself up, my arms still around his neck. Then I settled down, letting my weight impale me right down onto him.

Once again he leaned forward, trapping me against the table, its edge creasing my butt. I braced my feet on his hips, spreading myself completely for him. He braced his arms on the table and began to move in and out of me. Slowly at first, his shaft withdrawing until only the tip remained in me, then filling me on the downstroke, until he was fully within me. I could feel his cock throb against my slick walls.

Little by little his speed increased. His thrusts became more forceful. My breasts were plastered against his chest as the tempo of out love making became faster and faster. I could feel his heart pounding in his chest. I tried to match it, gasping for breath that I didn't need.

"Myron, ohhh, Myron. Please, please," I begged him. I felt him plunge all the way up into my cervix. He pounded me against the table. I bit his shoulder to keep from screaming. I bit him without my fangs. No matter what, I could never, would never, lose control with him.

"Bridget, oh dear god, Bridget," He drew my name out in one long deep moan as I felt a spasm in my body that matched his. He thrust one more time into me and held as our bodies molded into one and he emptied his seed in me.

The ringing of my cell phone woke me. I was stretched out on the table, covered by Myron's BDU BDU jacket. I pulled it on as I went in search of my phone. I managed to get up and find my purse. I looked at the number and sighed.

"Yes Robert?"

"Nothing new. Hostage Rescue is training for our situation. I do have," I could hear him swearing under his breath while he apparently fumbled for something on his desk, "I do have some vague reports of recent disappearances in an area of West Virginia."

"Okay, I'll be on my way after dark."

There was a pause. "Bridget, its after dark already. Just what are you still doing at Fort Bragg?"

Well thank goodness. I finally seemed to be someplace and with someone he didn't know all about. "I was taking a nap after the briefing." Forestalling any questions I added, "It went really well. I'll talk to you later." I hit the 'End' button and for good measure turned it off. 

I turned around. Myron was sitting in a chair in the front row. Damn but he still looked so good. I was happy to see that there appeared to be a little smile in his eyes.

"I was watching you sleep. I used to do that you know." He sighed. "I guess its not 1968 anymore, is it?"

"No, but it was again for a few hours and I'll take that and hold the memory close."

He watched me dress and put his shirt back on when I handed it to him. He laid his hand on my cheek and I turned my head slightly and kissed it.

"Be careful Bridget. You have the emergency number here, right?" I nodded. "Call if, no when, you catch this guy. I have faith in you. I'm sorry I lost it for a bit."

I walked to the door and unlatched it. My eyes drank him in as he stood at the other end of the room. As I left I somehow knew that I wouldn't see him again.

I never did.

(To Be Continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 05



One good thing about being a vampire. When your government issued car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and you kick it, the car knows its been kicked. I surveyed the dented side of the vehicle and added one more good thump for spite.

I checked my cell phone. Of course there was no signal. I swear, the only purpose of those infernal devices is to work when you don't want calls. I looked at my watch. Just about 3 AM. Being who I am, I naturally check the weather forecast for the time of sunrise. I had about three hours.

The car wasn't like my van, now parked in a Federal parking lot in DC. That I could have climbed in and simply pulled the curtains. Here, it appeared my only option would be to crawl into the trunk and lock it. Fat chance. With my luck someone would pop it open at high noon, leaving me a small pile of dust. So I needed to catch a ride.

That didn't look real promising either. I had been wandering the mountains where North Carolina and Tennessee meet, trying to get some hint of the trail of the vampire serial killer I had been tasked with finding. I hadn't found any trail and I hadn't seen much traffic at all lately. Okay, part of that had to do with the fact that I was lost. I mean, I'm a vampire, not a walking GPS Locator.

In case someone did show up, I figured I better dress for success. I quickly changed out of my pantsuit into a blouse and a short skirt. I debated about pantyhose. Oh heck, I had some sheer stockings. Might as well show some leg. Quick adjustments added a garter belt and I put my panties back on. Hey, its pretty unlikely that a rapist would survive an encounter with me. The last one didn't. However there's no sense in tempting fate.

I had just donned a pair of low heels and grabbed a small shoulder bag to put the important things in when I heard engines. Two of them. Motorcycles. I leaned against the trunk, folded my arms and waited. Headlights came around the corner and swept over me. I casually hooked one heel on the rear bumper, letting my skirt ride up. I know its a cheap trick, but it usually works.

It did tonight too. One bike slowed and stopped, followed by the other. A deep but unmistakably female voice called out. "Nice legs. Want a lift there sweet cheeks?"

"Sure." I really didn't anticipate trouble. I had once had a run in with a group of Hell's Angels in the 1950's but they were good sports about my kicking their asses and invited me to join their group.

"I'm Ivey," the woman who had been speaking said. "That's Jo Beth on the other Hog and Sally May riding bitch with her. Get on." I straddled the rear of the bike and put my arms around her. Pretty solid. She shifted into gear and released the clutch handle. We sped off and I wondered if this might not end up being an enjoyable evening after all.

About an hour's ride from where they picked me up we arrived at a large house sitting well off the road. The bikes were shut down in a spacious garage on the side of the building and we all went upstairs for a longneck beer. I needed one and knocked it back just about as fast as the two riders did. I, however, used a bottle opener.

The two butches appeared pretty similar to me. That's probably some politically incorrect femme thought, I guess. Its hard for me to tell powerfully built women in matching leather pants and jackets apart. At least Ivey was blonde and Jo Beth was brunette. I had the feeling that in bed, assuming that we used one, they would be even harder to identify.

While the butches tended to their machines I struck up a conversation with Sally May. She was slender and in her late teens. She had a hill accent that was deeper than my father's brogue had been. She was flushed with excitement at what was going on. I hoped she would feel the same way in a few hours. I, at least, knew what was going on and rather looked forward to it. From what I could gather, Sally May had run away from home and grabbed the first offered ride. I worried about her. 

When Ivey took my arm and urged me towards "someplace more private", I went willingly, but with my ears open. Assuming Sally May was really whom she appeared to be, her desire to see the world and experience things was going to land her in trouble. Hell, look where it led me. I was planning on having a good time, but I had already decided I wasn't going to let her get hurt.

Ivey led me into a fairly large room. It actually did have a bed, along with some assorted mismatched furniture. I decided to check out the bed, hoping that it would be clean of a least larger vermin. A bedbug bites me and its going to die. But I do have some standards for some one who was raised in a hovel. Deliberate dirt is a turn off.

Ivey's footsteps sounded behind me and then her breath was warm on my neck. Not for the same reason that mine was often on someone's, I thought. Her hands rested on my hips, then slid around me, pulling my blouse from the skirt. I felt her body press against mine. I felt something hard, and rather good size, pushing my skirt back in between my ass cheeks.

Her fingers rapidly undid the buttons on my blouse. She cupped my breasts, pulling my bra down so her fingers could capture my nipples. She began to push her hips against me, and I began to push my ass back against her.

"Oh yeah," I could almost see the fierce grin I knew was on her face. "You know what I want don't you baby? You want it too. Gonna fuck you good cutie. I bet you know what's good for you. Not that I would mind taking you anyway, but this will be fun."

This was hardly my first experience with a strapon. The first had been right around the turn of the century. The 17th Century that is. A wandering blonde bard from Greece had introduced me to the pleasures available from their use. Hers had been of carved ivory, and rather well worn as I recall. I wish I could have known her longer, but her girlfriend had a temper I thought best not to provoke. I like a woman in leather as much as the next gal, but really. Add a big sword and a long war cry, and I proved how fast I could run.

I turned around in her arms, kissed her and groped between her legs. She wasn't much of a kisser but she did have a good size basket ready for me. She pulled my blouse open and my bra down under my tits. She all but ripped my skirt off, reached around and grabbed my ass. Her fingers dug in and I moaned in anticipation.

Ivey hoisted me into the air. She leaned her head to me and took my breast in her mouth. First she sucked it deep, holding it as my nipple hardened. Then she let it out of her mouth until she could catch the nipple in her teeth. Grinning up at me, she suddenly bit down upon it. Hard. I moaned and kicked. It actually didn't hurt as much as I think she believed it did, and hell, I was in the mood for it anyway tonight. I grabbed her head and shoved it back pulling my breast deliciously taunt.

"Why you little slut!" Ivey exclaimed with glee. She moved to my other breast and clamped her teeth as hard as she could on that nipple. Her hand ran up under my skirt and pushed my panties to one side. I reached down between us, undoing her belt and freeing her strapon. With a guttural sound uttered through her clenched teeth she dropped me right onto the head of the dildo.

I never settle for just a part of something. I wrapped my legs around her and settled my hands on her shoulders. With a deep grunt I forced my body down and her cock went all the way up inside me. The bulbous head hit my spot in that first thrust and I whooped with glee.

"Now butch, show me what you got."

Her eyes widened. I don't think she had ever been challenged like that. She all but slammed me up against the concrete wall. Pinning me there, her hips blurred as she fucked me. The rough, pitted surface scraped over my back and my ass. Anyone else would have been bleeding and crying. I was yelling for more. She dug her fingers deeply into my ass. Drawing almost completely out of me with each stroke, she tried to make me into a pancake with each thrust.

I came for the first time and kept riding up and down on her. She turned and bounced me up and down in the air and on her cock as she walked across the room. I didn't know where she was going until she suddenly stopped and slowly lifted me in the air again. I didn't understand why, but I was prepared to go along with her. She began to lower me again and I found out what was going on. Another pair of hands grasped my ass and pulled it open and the head of a second dildo began to push between my cheeks.

"Dayum, Jo Beth, its going to take both of us. I wish we could keep this one too."

Jo Beth grunted as she bucked her hips. My anal ring gave way readily and I squealed delightedly as another large cock battered its way into my ass. "One is enough Ivey. Besides, women like this one get missed. No one will miss little miss country girl. By the way, where is she?"

"Taking a nap. After we get done stretching the red-headed slut here to the right size, let's grab some beer and a nap. Then we can break Sally in. She'll love it by the time we get done.

I really hate being left out of the conversation. I particularly don't like it when I'm the filling in a sandwich. After all, how about some common courtesy? I was using the leverage of my arms on Jo Beth' shoulders and my knees on Ivey's hips to pound up and down until I thought the two woman cocks would meet. In fact, as I yelled my way to my second orgasm, I could feel them squeezing the thin wall between them to paper thinness.

There was a good bit of yelling. I had clamped down on both dildos and shoved them right back into the respective pussies they were mounted over. Some wild grinding of my hips and they were both coming too.

Fortunately when we all fell over we landed on an old desk of some kind. There were plopping noises as both butches pulled out. Hands adjusted my body until I was face down on the rough wood. Whistling cheerfully they proceeded to tie my legs apart to what felt like chair spindles and then wrapped some rope around my body and the desk.

Not that anything they did was going to hold me if and when I decided it was time to stop playing games. I sort of like being tied up on occasions though and didn't make any protests.

"Hope you're comfy there cutie." Ivey was such a comedian. She and Jo Beth staggered out of the room. I heard Ivey's comment. "Fucking slut is some kinda lay, I tell you what. I need to rest for a while."

I actually managed to doze off in the position I was in. It wasn't terribly uncomfortable and I didn't feel like showing any of my unusual features unless I needed to. I was roused from my nap by sharp voices.

"Shut up you little slut. I don't care if this wasn't what you were planning on. Its what we were planning on. You have your choice. You can suck off her while I fuck you, or you can do me and take her cock. I don't care which." Ivey didn't even seem to have any originality I decided. 

"No, please, that wasn't what I was looking for. Don't." Oh hell, I should really have pegged Sally May for the innocent I now realized she was. I snapped my restraints and got dressed. The loud smack of a hand meeting a face made me hurry. 

"Get used to it. You might as well enjoy it now, because when the rest of the club gets back we're going to give you a good old-fashioned gang bang with you as the meat."

I reached the door way to the garage and leaned against the opening. Ivey was standing over Sally, who was in a heap on the floor. Jo Beth was on the other side of her, grinning and fondling her black strapon cock. They both nearly jumped out of their skins when I spoke.

"Obviously I'm all for fun. But fun, even this kind, requires the consent of all parties. I don't think Sally is into this and I suggest you let her go." I turned my attention to the young woman. "Are you ready to go Sally May?"

"Yes, please," Sally answered with tears in her eyes.

"Nobody fucking asked you, bitch," snarled Jo Beth. "This little slut needs fucking and I'm going to give her what she wants. You better just shut the fuck up. You got off pretty easy 'cause you did what we wanted, but don't push your luck or you'll end up in a lot more trouble than she is."

"I don't think so," I replied.

"Bite my ass, you whore," chimed in Ivey. "I'll just take you back there and teach you a lesson." Suddenly her eyes narrowed and then widened. "Hey, we left you tied up. How did you get loose?"

I grinned.

When the sun was completely set, I wheeled out the third motorcycle that had been parked in the garage when we arrived. I straddled it and motioned to Sally May to join me.

"Bridget, I'm scared."

"You should be," I commented. "I haven't driven one of these two wheeled contraptions in years."

"No, silly. I mean them." She gestured toward the other side of the garage.

"Why? Doesn't look to me like they're going anywhere." I smirked. Both of them seemed to have run out of breath to curse and scream at me. It was pleasantly silent over there. Each was tied to her motorcycle, head down, facing backwards. I had strapped their hands to the rear foot pegs and their bodies were draped over the handle bars. With their feet fastened to the front wheels their butts stuck right up in the air.

"We'll be able to pick up my car not an hour from here." I nodded cheerfully towards Ivey and Jo Beth. "Thanks for letting me use your phone to call a wrecker." They didn't respond. Grumps. I returned my attention to Sally. "Then I can take you where ever you would like, safely away from them."

"Bridget," Sally asked quietly as she stood beside me. "Would you take me home?"

I smiled. "I would love to."

She laid her hand on my arm. She looked in my eyes, hesitated and then blushed.

"What?"

"Bridget, I made a mistake when I took up with those two. But," her blush grew even deeper, "I really did want the experience of being with another woman. I still do. But with a woman who is caring and loving and would be gentle with me. Someone who could give me wonderful memories for the rest of my life. Bridget, would you take me home tomorrow? Tonight..." the words trailed off, but her eyes spoke volumes.

I touched her face with my fingertips. "I'd love to spend the night with you Sally. Hop on." As she did so I frowned, "Now if I can just remember how to start this we'll be gone." 

Sally slipped her arms around me, her fingers brushing the bottom of my breasts. She giggled. "Bridget, I don't know how you did that to them, but it's AWFUL." Her laughing voice gave the lie to her words.

I looked smugly over at our hostesses. The black ties of each one's strapon trailed over their full naked butts. Just the base of each cock was visible, since I had carefully pounded the rest right up their asses. I must say that for a couple of tough butches there had been a lot of screaming and crying when I did that. Maybe they weren't all the women they thought they were.

"And how did you leave those marks?"

I shrugged and didn't answer. I could see them. Two punctures on each ass cheek. I cranked the bike and we took off. I grinned again. After all, they were the ones who had told me to bite them.

(To Be Continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 06



As it turned out, it was three nights before I was able to deliver Sally May back to her home and family. By then I was walking kinda crooked. For someone who just wanted to experiment before settling down, I found she had been imaginative and down right insatiable. Just my kind of girl.

Sally lived in a tiny rural community that in a strange way I felt right at home in. Her family was a wonderful group of down to earth people that reminded me of my own. Little formal education was overcome with hard earned wisdom and common sense.

Sally had been scared of the reception she thought she would receive after her running away. She had been worried without cause. Her family was so happy to get her back they smothered her with love. I especially noted the reaction of a young neighbor. He didn't throw himself all over her, but I could read his eyes and I hoped Sally had also.

They were very nice to me. They insisted on pressing enough food and drink at me to last a normal human for a month. I tasted the home made wine and decided that, as good as it was, I would wait till I was somewhere safe before enjoying it. I didn't want to be howling at the moon when the sun was coming up. Again.

They made objections when I told them I had to leave that night but gave in. I stood on the darkened porch and gave Sally one more long hug.

"You'll be happy here Sally."

"I know." She smiled happily. "I'm glad I got to meet you but here is where I belong and where I'm staying. Besides," her face grew dreamy, "Did you see the way Sean was looking at me?"

I should have known. I kissed her one more time and she went back in the house. I turned to go down the steps. I hesitated when I heard the rocker on the far end of the porch squeak. Looking that way, I saw the coal of a pipe glow, showing me a worn, deeply lined face. I realized it belonged to Sally's grandmother.

"Come here child."

I walked to her, as obedient as I would have been to my own grandmother. She patted an empty space on a chair beside her rocker. I sat and she looked at me for what seemed a very long minute.

"When I first saw you I was sure you was a haint. I didn't want to invite you in. But you brought Sally May home safe and sound and never asked for a thing." Her eyes probed me. She took my hand, turning the palm up. The moon had come out from the clouds and the silvery light poured over us.

She didn't look at my palm. Rather, her fingers gently followed the lines there while her gaze continued to hold my eyes.

"Your journey has been a long one child. Full of laughter greater than most people know, and laden with deeper sorrows too. It draws towards an end though. Perhaps not a final one, perhaps a change, as mysterious as the one that started you on the trail you follow now."

I shivered. My Irish soul stirred uneasily to the deep cadence of her voice. For once, the ringing of my cell phone was a welcome interruption.

"Get moving," Robert's voice instructed me without any wasted greetings. "He hit again in South Carolina."

After listening to his account of a double murder with all the ear marks of our killer, I responded. "I'm heading for Georgia. Maybe I can get ahead of him. I'll call later."

I disconnected and headed for my car. Sally's Grandmother's voice brought me up short.

"One more thing child. This... man... you seek. He's a shadow out of your past. Be careful. God go with you."

I reached my destination the next evening. A mixture of small hamlets, rural areas and one city that actively catered to the tourist trade was perfect for him. I stirred uneasily at the thought of "him". Who was he? What was his connection to me?

I decided to stop at a small restaurant for some coffee and a chance to review the latest findings that Robert had faxed to an FBI office on my route here. I also hoped to indulge is a little discreet eavesdropping. I looked for a place that would be frequented by locals more than tourists. Later I would try to find the local cops watering hole.

I pulled in to the parking lot of a place called "Jason's". It looked like a family type place so I went in and was soon seated at a table with a cup of coffee steaming in front of me. Thank goodness caffeine still affects my body. Double that I can still taste it when its strong enough.

I took out the folder I had picked up in South Carolina. I studied the reports while keeping on eye on the room. I grimaced as I read of the last killing. This time it had been both a young man and a young woman, apparently a couple. They had almost been torn apart. I really had to find this guy. 

In looking around, my eyes settled on a woman sitting at the next table with three children. She was quite attractive. Just a bit taller than me with dirty blonde hair, she didn't look old enough to have two teenagers for daughters. The older one called her "Mom" though, so I guessed she was. 

My attention was drawn to the door where I saw a yummy looking guy come in. A bit over 6 feet with a powerful build and a broad smile. For a moment I was hoping the smile was directed towards me, but of course it wasn't. The petite blonde got to her feet and hugged him as a chorus of "Daddy" came from the girls, as well as a small boy I assumed was their younger, much younger brother.

I noted with a great deal of envy that the woman was pregnant. I sighed. A good looking husband and adding to an already happy family. There were many things I missed about not being human. The two strongest regrets for me were the loss of the sunrise, and the fact that I would never be able to have children.

While I was both indulging myself with regrets and wondering why I was doing it so often anymore, I found my eyes resting on a very appetizing woman. She was tall and slender, with a floating mass of dark hair. She wore a short skirt and had dancer's legs, smooth and firm with a hint of strength. After accepting kisses from the entire family at the next table, and a wild hug from the little boy who called her "Aunt Linda", she sat down. I appreciated the fact she was sitting where I could look her over, and that when she crossed her legs the view got even better.

Damn. No luck again. An attractive blonde came in and sat down beside the slender dark haired woman. In itself that wasn't an interest killer. However the way the two held hands under the table made it obvious they were a couple. 

I shook myself. Damn, I wasn't supposed to be scoping out the guys and the girls here. I was supposed to be working. I was on a pretty good expense account but I really wanted to put this rogue vampire out of business. Not just because he endangered the rest of us, but because I just flat considered him evil. I paid for my coffee, cast one more look at the people at the next table and headed for my hotel.

Once I was checked in, a fifty dollar bill in the hands of the night clerk provided me with the names and addresses of all the clubs in the surrounding area, both licensed and underground. I dressed to party, assuming of course a party outfit consisted of loose, dark clothing and running shoes. I completed my wardrobe with a very sharp, slender oak stake. I had been terribly tempted to have "Mister Pointy" carved on it, but the FBI really does not have a sense of humor and I decided not to. Now if I could have had the Agency guys whip this up for me...

Enough wool gathering I scolded myself. Time to get moving. I thought my quarry was more likely to head for the darker places with all the shit he had been stirring up lately. I took off for the nearest underground club on my list.

That was "The Rave". A pretty unoriginal name on a pretty unoriginal place. At least they could have had some decent music. Somehow they had managed to pick absolutely the worst songs from both the modern era and from classic rock. I couldn't even figure out how anyone danced here but they were. I couldn't have done an Irish jig to the songs I was barely listening to so I wandered, keeping my eyes and ears open.

Now that was interesting. The blonde haired woman I had seen at the restaurant was dancing her heart out on the floor. With two guys no less. Damn. Reminded me of me. I didn't buy it for a minute though. I had seen the way she held the hand of that other woman. What was her name? Linda. I had seen lovers of all sizes and groupings over the centuries. If those two weren't together than I needed to get me to a nunnery, because I knew nothing.

I circulated. I peeked. I went through one of my usual laments that I wasn't a foot taller. At five-three I don't exactly have the best view in any crowd. But it was enough to see that the blonde woman was leaning against the chest of a damn tall guy. More I couldn't tell as his back was to me. But it was enough to start me moving that way.

I couldn't catch a good look at the man with the blonde woman. The height was about right though. I tried to slip closer to them but the crowd was too thick. I wormed my way closer, trying not to create too much commotion as I did. I didn't want to spook him, if that was indeed him. At the same time I didn't want to be arriving too late either.

Shit. They were leaving. And the side door too. Now I hurried. Story of my damn life lately, shoving my way through dance crowds. This time I was going to get him.

I came through the doorway loaded for bear. There wasn't anyone there, which rather deflated me. The I heard sharp noises from around the corner in the back parking lot. Perfect place. Dark, as I recalled from a quick look around when I got here that there's but a single light. I ran.

"I told you to put your hands where I can see them." I peeked around the corner. Yeah, it was him alright. The blonde woman was facing him, an automatic in a two handed grip and pointed at him. Okay, she was a cop. Under normal circumstance she probably was very good at what she did, but these were anything but normal.

This was proven as a blindingly fast move saw her stagger backwards against the wall, her weapon falling from her hands. In the same move he was on her and I saw the light glint from his fangs. Before I could move, the dark haired woman I had pegged as the blonde's lover appeared. She launched herself through the air in a graceful leap that culminated in her leading foot connecting to the killer's jaw.

She might have just as well kicked the wall. Even with bouncing off him she managed to land on her feet. A blow from him dropped her on top of the other woman. Even though she was dazed I saw her hand grope behind her, doubtless for a weapon that I knew would not help.

What was I doing, writing a fucking book? I shook myself into action. Time to show that dark haired woman wasn't the only martial artist here. I sprang and nailed the killer with the best front snap kick of my unlife. This time I actually staggered him. I followed with a shower of punches, chops and kicks. He was still so incredibly strong I knew I wasn't doing much more than keeping him busy though. I could hear the women, both cops I now was sure, trying to get back up. If I could just hold him off until they were up I might have the opportunity to get my stake out and finish this asshole.

He tried to slip around to my right. I countered, keeping myself between him and the two women. The light from the single pole in the parking lot fell on both our faces and I heard him growl, and then laugh.

"Well, well, I thought it was you. Bridget O'Brien, the brave little Irish bitch. I thought I taught you before, don't stand in my way. But then, you never did understand. You fool. You try to be one of these humans, protect them." He fairly spat at me. "They're cattle, you stupid slut."

I growled back. I knew my face had turned with the stress of the fight, and I didn't care. Now I knew who I was dealing with. "I warned you, Thorfinn, that if I ever ran across your sorry ass again I would kick it back to hell. They're not cattle to me."

"Or me," came a deep male voice. A sharp click-clack was followed by the roar of a shotgun. Thorfinn really staggered this time as a charge of what must have been magnum buckshot hit him. The tall man from the restaurant appeared in the corner of my eye. He advanced, pumping the slide and firing repeatedly.

Even a vampire as powerful as Thorfinn couldn't take that onslaught. Although it wouldn't kill him it would hurt very badly. He managed to roll over the hood of a pickup, which took the next charge of shot. Then he was gone. 

"Damn." I turned to check on the two women. "Are you al..." My words trailed off as I noted two large caliber handguns trained on my face. Now that would really hurt too, especially since I could sense the man with the shotgun was covering me too. Now that's the story of my life. See three attractive women and one hot guy and, before the night is over, three out of the four are offering to shoot me. My luck is really bad sometimes.

I raised my hands over my head. No sense in chasing Thorfinn now. After all, I couldn't catch him loaded down with bullets, fatal to me or not. I figured it was much more important to make nice with the local cops. Besides which I needed to get in contact with Robert. This was important. We were in more trouble than I had previously thought.

While the male officer, his name was "Mike" I caught from words exchanged, held his shotgun close to my head, the blonde officer carefully cuffed me. Interestingly, she was very calm about the whole thing, even making sure the cuffs weren't too tight on my wrists.

We took a short ride to the back of a building complex that was obviously a combination police station and jail. Surprising me, when I was helped out of the car, the dark haired woman Linda unlocked my cuffs. 

"I don't know what exactly is going on, but I'm grateful. I strongly suspect you saved my life and Sue's life also," she nodded towards the blonde woman. "Besides," she added rather cryptically, "The fewer people who know about you the better."

Along with the male officer, we walked down a couple of hallways to an office furnished with a desk, a few chairs and a speaker phone. The other woman from the restaurant was already waiting for us. She closed the door, stood on her toes and kissed the man. With my lightning deductive ability I was able to immediately tell she was a cop too. The holstered automatic and the badge around her neck rather gave it away.

"May I make one phone call please?" They were already examining my CIA credentials with an air of "tell me another whooper", so I figured I better get hold of Robert. He could confirm my identity and start searching out anything on Thorfinn.

"You want a lawyer?" asked the very pregnant detective.

"Actually, I want you to place a call for me. You get the number yourself and call the FBI headquarters in DC." The foursome exchanged glances. "That way you'll know for sure where confirmation of my identity is coming from." I wondered why there didn't seem to be higher ups here. From what I had gathered, the foursome consisted of two Lieutenants, Mike and Linda; a Sergeant named Pat and Sue, who was a Detective.

The male Lieutenant Mike shrugged, and without looking it up, dialed the number for the FBI building. I was impressed. I looked him over again, only to be brought up short by the sweet smile his pregnant Sergeant wife was giving me. If I could have sweated I would have. Instead I tried to adopt an innocent expression and gave the number for Robert's office.

"Where the hell are you Bridget?" erupted from the speaker phone. I was always glad when Robert was so concerned about me.

"In an interrogation room in the Jackson County Jail," I replied cheerfully.

"Well that hardly surprises me," Robert observed. "Tell me who's the ranking officer and I'll arrange to have both the Bureau and the Agency confirm that, regardless of whatever you probably did, that you are indeed on the side of the angels."

"First Robert, something much more important." I took a deep breath. "I know who our killer is. Its Thorfinn Olafson."

"DAMN, I thought he was dead. I haven't heard anything about him since the last time you saw him. That was in," Robert hesitated. I knew he didn't want to give anything away, but I had already formed my judgment of these cops. I sensed that somehow they were not only NOT going to be surprised by what was going on, but would take things in stride.

"April of 1943, outside of Paris," I finished.

"Right." Robert sounded surprised but apparently decided to trust my judgment. Well, once every 50 years or so isn't bad.

"Call Lieutenant Gibson here at the main office of the Sheriff's Department," the man instructed. "I'll be waiting." I turned off the speaker phone.

"So where do we go from here?" I asked.

"Explanations would be nice," responded Linda. I started to explain but she plowed on. "We don't know anything other than the fact that you and the guy we were trying to catch are both vampires; that you seem to be one of the good guys; and we have no clue how to stop him. I personally am intensely curious as to what you were doing outside Paris in the Second World War with, Thorfinn I think you called him. And who the hell is he?"

I was staggered. I'd had all kinds of reactions from people over the years to what I was. This was one for the books. Pat smiled and laid her hand on my arm, disregarding an anxious look from her husband. "Bridget, this isn't our first encounter with the supernatural. And Mike? Linda is right, she's one of the good guys. Lets get out of here and someplace quiet." She turned. "Linda, can we go to y'all's place?" She indicated Sue with a nod, confirming what I thought. "Its a schoolnight and I don't want the kids upset so ours is kinda out."

"Sure."

Amazing, only an hour after being arrested I was sitting comfortably on a couch with a interested and sympathetic audience. I had a cold beer. A cigarette would have been nice, but I would never smoke around a pregnant woman. After all, I wasn't worried about lung cancer.

"Thorfinn Olafson is, like me a vampire. Unlike me, I hope, he's a nasty evil son-of-a-bitch who could have given Vlad Dracula a run for his money. Drac, incidentally, was not a vampire, just a mass murderer." I sighed. "It would be much easier if there was really some kind of 'Watchers' who kept track of vampires like the TV series have for them and immortals, but there isn't. What we do know is Thorfinn is a very old vampire, perhaps a thousand years old. He was a priest of Odin at one time and for all I know still worships him."

"I do know he still dabbled in the occult." I saw the looks the foursome exchanged and made a mental note to find out more. "When I met him he was employed by the Gestapo and was a feature even in that organization of thugs and sadists. The Nazis took some of the occult quite seriously. I think that may have been part of what drew him to them. That and of course the opportunity to main and kill innocent people."

"What were you doing Bridget?" asked Sue.

"I was working for the OSS. I had made a night drop into France to meet up with an underground cell. A very important leader of the resistance had been captured and I went in to try to help them get him out of German hands."

As I talked, my mind drifted back. I saw the dark shadows around the prison, the guards I eliminated. I could hear the moans from the cells of those who had been brutally treated. One blackshirt I caught spilled his guts, figuratively and the literally. I shuddered as I told my new friends about that. I was more remorseless that night than I had been in centuries, since I caught a party of Cromwell's Ironsides exterminating an entire Irish village, men, women and children.

I had led the way to the place where Jacques was being held, and tortured. There I had met Thorfinn. My anger had made me a match for him that night. I held him at bay while the underground rescued Jacques. I almost killed him then, but an SS man stupidly threw himself in the way and I stabbed the Nazi instead. During the fight a brazier was kicked over and I couldn't chase him when the prison caught on fire. I let Thorfinn go while I strove to break open the cells before the prisoners burned.




Bridget's Nights Ch. 06



Slowly I came back to the present. All four sat looking at me. Mike reached over and squeezed my hand. I could see something in his eyes that told me he knew how I felt. I wondered what he had done, had seen before. Pat intertwined her fingers with both of ours and I clung to their grip. 

"Enough of that for right now. Tell us about you."

I started my weary recital of what I was. I was cut off.

"Bridget," Linda laid her hand on my arm. "That's not what we mean. Tell us about you. Where you come from. We're not asking for a description of life as a vampire. We're asking for a description of Bridget O'Brien, the person."

"Where should I start?" 

"Why not at the beginning?" suggested Sue.

"Yes," chimed in Pat. "Tell us where that lilt under the Southern accent came from."

"Okay," I smiled. Good Lord. I think I had somehow made friends. Not people who wanted something from me or for me to do something, but friends. As rare as that is among mortals, its even rarer among my kind. "I guess it starts back in Ireland in 1552 in a small town in Kilarney."

(To Be Continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 07



The foursome gathered around me. I sat on the couch with Linda on one side and Sue on the other. Pat nestled in her husband's lap in the big chair facing us.

I don't doubt that my eyes grew misty and far away. I wasn't seeing the room, but rather the soft rolling green hills and dales of Ireland. I knew that the faint traces that remained of my Irish accent grew stronger the longer I talked.

************

I was born the eighth and final child to my parents, Michael and Mary O'Brien. Five brothers and two sisters all towered above me in my childhood. My father owned and operated the local combination inn and tavern, with of course, the assistance, advice and direction of my mother. Along with my siblings, I worked there from the time I was old enough to help. I started mopping the flagstone floor, washing dishes, and finally graduated to serving drinks and food.

Generally I didn't have to think twice about the customers. After all, with the exception of a traveling bard or tinker and the very rare patrol of English soldiery, our village was generally left to us. An uneasy peace existed in the country. In not too many years there would be the earth-shaking revolt of Hugh O'Neill amd "Red Hugh" O'Donnell that came within a breath of casting the English out of Ireland. Alas, that was not to be.

In the meantime though, I could generally wiggle my hips or cast a wink at the men in the tavern without fear of any liberties being taken. Most customers were friends of my family. Furthermore my father was well known as a strong man and a famed wrestler throughout the area. He was pretty choosy about who got fresh with his Bridget. The young men learned quickly that if they wanted to steal a kiss, it would have to be done away from my father's watchful glare.

I should have been married by now. Twenty-one was definitely an old maid in those times. But so far no one had shown up to match both my eyes and my father's expectations. So I was still waiting for the dashing man who would sweep me off my feet. Too many romantic tales I'm sure.

One visitor to our place was Dominic. Everyone was suspicious of him. Not from anything he did, but rather because he was a "foreigner". In those days that term would have been applied to anyone, Irish, English or whatever who was not a local, but in his case it was true. He was dark, actually not that peculiar in Ireland. He told us he was from Spain. Another Catholic country, Spain and Ireland had a continual, if quiet commerce so his being here was not unusual. 

From the first, he captivated me. Up till then, my sexual experiences had been limited to an occasional kiss and some hurried fumbling in a quiet place like the barn loft. Only twice had a boy even touched my breast. Both times the inexperienced touching had left me longing for more.

Once, just once I had touched a boy in a forbidden place. Seamus McManus, the youngest son of one of our neighbors, and I had slipped away from a village celebration and taken refuge in a haystack. We had kissed and daringly run our hands over each other's arms and leg. A sudden shift of the straw beneath us had brought my hand in contact with a rigid bulge between his legs. We froze. Almost involuntarily I rubbed my fingers against it. Then realizing what we were doing and knowing that, according to the Parish Priest, that final damnation was upon us, we had sprung apart and shot back to the festivities.

From Dominic I wanted more. So much more. His words were always friendly and innocuous, but the fire that seemed to burn in his eyes occasionally came through. I knew he wanted me as a man wanted a woman. And I wanted him. I wanted to feel his dark, smooth skin. I wanted his hands upon me. I trembled as he once brushed his hand over my bottom as he squeezed past me one evening.

Several times we managed to find hurried moments alone. His first kiss was so thrilling I could have given myself to him right then. I had never known a kiss went beyond the touching of lips. When he whispered that he loved me, my heart nearly stopped. I promised that very night to meet him outside of the village.

Late that night I slipped out of my bed. Afraid even to breathe, I tiptoed to the doorway and slipped down the stairs. I hugged the wall to avoid the tread that I knew squeaked. Then I unbarred the top of the Dutch style doors and clambered out. I eased them closed behind me, hoping that no one would notice they were open before I got back and bar them against my reentry.

I flew on swift feet to the grove of trees where I had agreed to meet Dominic. The moonlight lit my way and I caught my breath as I saw him standing in its rays. Running to him I launched myself into his arms.

"Ah my love, you came!" The moonlight glinted in his eyes, almost making them glow. He kissed me again, holding my small body to him. Once again his tongue slipped into my mouth. His hands rested on my bare shoulders and he drew the simple dress down until it dropped below my breasts. Murmuring in my ear, his hands took them and caressed them. My nipples grew harder than I could have ever imagined. I was wet between my legs, a wetness such as I had never felt before.

He scooped me up into his arms. Still kissing me, he carried me through the trees to a small grassy knoll. He set me down gently.

"Such beauty should be knelt before." He fell to one knee and caught my dress, pulling it down over my hips and to my feet. I stepped out of it, as nude as the day I was born.

My dress cast aside, he stretched my body out on the cool grass. I shivered but the heat of my passion overcame my body, and my doubts. He threw aside his clothing and fell on top of me.

I gasped as I felt his manhood press against me. He caught my wrists in an unbreakable grip and pinned me under him. He bent his head and caught one of my breasts in his mouth. At first he was gentle, running his tongue over the stiffening nipple, urging it to harden to his touch. His mouth slid to the other breast, treating it the same. His body pushed against me. I groaned in anticipation and fear as I felt his hard cock slide between my legs.

"Yes, oh yes, Dominic." I was on fire with excitement 

Then his lovemaking changed. As though he had become some wild animal, he took my nipple in his teeth and bit. He wrenched it with a sharp pull of his head. The pain became deeper as I felt two points dig along the softness of my breast.

Even as I called out to him to stop, his knees forced my legs apart and the head of his cock launched itself against the wetness of my pussy. One massive heave of his hips drove him up inside me. I tried to scream, only to find his mouth completely covering mine. My hymen ruptured and then he was fucking me, his hips pounding my small body into the turf with every movement of his body.

What he was doing to me brought mixed feeling to me. After the initial shock, my body was responding to him. The pressure of his cock inside me made me feel good. Somehow it was not the "rapturous excitement" I had expected from eavesdropping on the talk of other women. My breasts hurt from his teeth. He had finally let go of them and was licking my neck, which I found much more pleasurable.

Still in all, I could feel something building inside my body, a fire burning deep between my legs. I was meeting his down thrusts with my own movements and I began to moan loudly. He must have felt me building, for he suddenly picked up the pace of his hips. The he was very tight inside me, as though he had swollen. I cried out, my body shaking under a force stronger by far than my own fingers had ever aroused.

His lips were next to my ear. He whispered in his accented Gaelic, "Now, my love, we will be together always." His head dropped to my neck. I spasmed in the first throes of my orgasm. He released into me, a hot flood filling my pussy. Then I felt a sharp pain in my throat. I became dizzy, the world spinning wildly around until I sank into darkness.

When I opened my eyes I had no idea where I was. I couldn't see, even after I managed to open my eyes. When I did, two objects fell from my face and rang with a dull thump. I couldn't move. I was in some sort of wooden box. It was close about me. I tried to call out. Panic seized me and suddenly I was free, with the shards of the wooden box around me. Moonlight poured through a barred window. I realized I was in the tiny family chapel carved into the side of a hill. But why? A glint caught my eye. I looked into the remnants of the box and picked up the two coins that had fallen from my eyes. 

In a frenzy I managed to push open the heavy wooden door and I staggered out of the burrow. In God's name what was happening? I couldn't seem to think. Then it struck me. Of course, if I could just get home. Everything was always alright at home. Whatever had happened to me, Mother and Father would be able to fix it. I got my bearings. I was on the North side of town. I ran towards the house, not even noticing the rocks that cut my bare feet.

From out of the shadows Dominic caught my arm. He smiled, and this time I saw the fangs clearly. "Where are you going my love? I'm sorry I was late, but now we will be together forever."

I pulled my arm out of his grasp. "What are you talking about? I have to go home. I'm late, something is wrong. I need to see my parents. Whatever it is, they will fix it." I babbled on, rushing through the wet night grass in my bare feet. "I have to go home. I have to go home."

He started after me. Then a sad smile crossed his face and he stopped. "I will be waiting nearby love. You will see."

I reached the end of the hostel where we lived and pounded on the door. My father opened the door and I stepped in, prepared to throw my arms around him.

To this very day I will never be able to forget the look on his face. A mixture of horror and sheer disbelief twisted his visage into something I could not even recognize. He screamed. My god, my father saw me and screamed.

Knowing what I do now, how could I have blamed him? His daughter was dead, had been dead for days. My body had been blessed with all the ceremonies of the Church, but the circumstances under which I died were strange and frightening. Then he opened the door and found what he could have only assumed was a demon in my form.

God, if I could have caught a glimpse of myself standing in that doorway I would have been terrified also. I was streaked with dirt and dust from the tomb. The white dress I had been laid to rest in was torn and muddy. My fingers were torn from the effort of breaking free of the coffin. And my face...

It would be years before I could see myself when I was in vampire form and not shudder. It doesn't twist and deform your face. In some ways it would perhaps be less frightening if it did. Rather, the face remains as it normally is, changed only by the fangs and the red glow that lights in our eyes. It wipes out our humanity but at the same time leaves us the same person we were before.

I staggered through the doorway. My father scrambled away from me. My mother screamed and then my brothers surged towards me, determined to defend the family against whatever nightmare wore their little sister's body. I almost feel under the assault as they grabbed anything to hand and pummeled me with sticks and chair legs and logs from the woodpile. My father seized the sword from over the mantle and ran at me.

"Avaunt, Devil from hell!" He swung at me. I caught his arm and in the first fit of the strength I did not know I now possessed, I wrenched it from his grasp. I threw it aside. I threw my brothers aside. I looked beseechingly at my mother. 

"Mother, its me. Its Bridget. Tell them to stop. What is wrong." I begged her. 

Somehow I think she knew. She caught up the precious mirror that she let us use only with her there and held it up to me. I stared at the reflection. Another myth shattered I know. When I realized that the inhuman face I was seeing was mine, I screamed myself. I hurled myself out of what had been my home, trying to outrun myself.

Dominic was there, mounted on the horse I had thought him so handsome on. He reached down and caught my wrist in an iron grip. He swung me up behind him. Even in the madness that was taking me I wrapped my arms around him and felt a thrill.

"We must hurry," he called out. "The village is roused." I looked over my shoulder. People poured forth from their huts. Flames leaped up as a bonfire was kindled. I saw torches beginning to spread out as though the people bearing them were searching for someone. And I knew they were hunting for me. I could hear the cries of my family and friends as they looked for the demon. Then Dominic clapped the spurs to his horse and we were flying down the worn track leading away from everything I had ever known.

************

Returning to the present, I found myself surrounded by warm bodies holding me as my tears flooded down my face. Linda and Sue rocked me as I wept. Pat pressed against me, her swollen belly keeping her from getting as close as she was trying. Finally, Mike's arms seemed to encircle us all.

Slowly the tears slowed, then stopped. Eventually I gained control of myself. I heaved a sigh and relaxed. It felt so nice to be surrounded by caring people. They finally let me go and I settled back onto the couch.

Linda asked, "Bridget, ahh, is that the way all vampires have sex?"

"Oh no. The next time I made love with another vampire, a male vampire that is, it was much different."

"Well that's good," breathed Sue. "So it was just him? Cruelty like I guess his and Thorfinn's doesn't actually run through all vampires, regardless of the stories?"

"Definitely not. And Sue?" The blonde woman looked at me quizzically. "I have seen more cruelty from humans to other humans than could have been inflicted by all the vampires in the world." I shook myself. "Enough of that. What else can I tell you?"

"What happened to Dominic?" asked Pat.

"We drifted apart. He was more enthralled with the idea of 'being in love' than in being in love itself. We met again in Paris, always a favorite city for vampires. Of all things, his aristocratic ways doomed him at the beginning of the French Revolution. I escaped because I had already been forced to abandoned France.

"Why was that?"

"I had run low on money. I was working in a tavern as a bar maid. The wheel of life often comes full circle. I was approached by a man named Jean, who inquired if I had experience as a ladies servant. I actually had, although I had to be vague about the particulars. He told me his was the major-domo for a Countess who needed to replace a maid servant who had unexpectedly run away. I accepted."

I may have, or may not have blushed when I added, "The Countess I had served once before was a famous courtesan of nearly two centuries earlier. She had taught me many things, not the least of which was that a man was not always needed for lovemaking. So I followed Jean to his mistress' townhouse with perhaps more thoughts than just getting a new job."

************

For the first few weeks everything seemed normal. I barely saw the Countess. I did certainly notice her. She was indeed lovely, fair and white as snow. Of course the aristocracy made sure that no sun dimmed their complexions whenever possible. I could certainly sympathize with that.

Several of the times I had crossed the path of the Countess I had felt her eyes upon me. I was unfailingly servile but I was aware she seemed to have an interest in me. At least once I saw her lick her lips. I hoped it was anticipation. How right, and how wrong, I was about that, I found out one night after about a month in her service.

Jean had appeared in my quarters. "You are commanded to attend the Countess tonight. Clean up and wear this," he handed me a lace dress. "Go to her in her apartments at the 9th hour."

I entered the doorway as the nearby church bell tower marked the hour. The Countess was stretched out on a divan, wearing a nightdress that consisted mostly of diaphanous veils. I curtsied to her and waited until I was told to rise.

"Mmmm, Jean was right. You are lovely." She clapped her hands. "Close the door. Fetch us some wine and come here and sit at my feet."

I did as I was bade. The wine was strong. She looked over me and smiled.

"I have observed you. I have seen you observe me. I am very beautiful am I not?"

There I was on safe ground. "Yes, My Lady."

"You desire me, do you not?"

I swallowed. There might not be a right answer to that. When in doubt, tell the truth. "Yes, My Lady."

"Good. Fill our goblets again. Then come here." I did so and she slipped her arm around mine, holding her wine to my lips. "Drink." She nodded approvingly as I held my filled glass to her. I sipped, my eyes locked on hers. "More," she whispered. I did so. She laid her glass aside and held out her hand. "Come to me."

I came into her arms and she kissed me. It was a passionate kiss. My head swam at its intensity. In fact, my head swam until I passed out.

When I woke up, I was in a prison cell, with my hands chained together. "DAMN", I swore to myself. Would I never learn? Little did I know this would happen with monotonous regularity over the years.

The door rattled and swung open. a heavy set man wearing only boots and leather breeches came in. He picked me up and slung me over his shoulder without a word. My senses and strength were still handicapped by the drugs. Although I could have fought, I thought it best to wait. I could see that we were passing a line of cells. From the sounds, some of them were also occupied.

We entered a larger room. A narrow stone staircase went up one wall to the doorway I had undoubtably been brought through while I was unconscious. The heavy set man put me down and then looped my chained hands over a hook. He stepped away and turned a large crank, lifting me into the air until only my toes brushed the floor.

A low chuckle echoed through the room. "Welcome to the, ah, lower levels of my house." A push from the heavy set man sent me slowly turning. The Countess came into my field of vision, along with two hooded men. 

"You peasant slut," she snapped at me. "How dare you raise your eyes to me. You looked upon me with lust. Me, whom you should have groveled before. You will be punished for your terminity, like those before you." Her voice rang out and I could hear moans and pleas from the corridor of cells. 

"Please Countess," I begged. "Show mercy. Not for me, but for those others. No matter what you think they have done, no matter what power you think you have, stop what you're doing. Show mercy that one day mercy may be shown to you."

She threw back her head and laughed and I heard the madness in her laughter. "You peasant scum. Mercy is only for the weak. Francois, teach her to keep her mouth shut. I want to see blood dripping down her back!"

"Yes Milady," smirked the sweating man. He drew back his arm and the whip cut through the air and into my back. Savagely he struck again, and again, and again. I felt more than saw him step close and examine me. "That's strange, Mistress," he called out. "There is no blood."

My fury had built with the pain of each stroke. The last lingering remnants of the drugs were gone by now. I hungered. I needed to feed. I twisted my wrists and the chains broke. As the foursome stood with their mouths open, I grinned terribly at them and said, "No, but there will be."

Spinning about I grabbed Francois head and twisted. With a sharp crack his neck broke like a thin branch. His body fell forward, his stunned face looking back right between his shoulders. Before the two hooded men could even scream I was upon them. The one on the right I backhanded with the full strength of my arm. He almost flew backwards, toppling into the red hot coals where the irons were heating. His clothing burst into flames and he screamed wildly.




Bridget's Nights Ch. 07



The second man had no time to consider the fate of his companion. I was on him. I ripped away his hood, seeing the pale visage of Jean. Ah, that was his trade then. He lured men and women to his mistress, searching carefully for those with no attachment. I had fit the bill. Too bad for him. I tore open his jugular with one swipe of my fangs and fed. I made no attempt to stop until his empty corpse fell to the floor.

I turned and looked around. The other man lay still, obviously dead. At the top of the stairs, the Countess was clawing at the heavy iron door that was apparently locked. Heedless of the damage to her hands she tore at it, pounding it with the flat of her hands until they bled. She cast one horrified glance over her shoulder at me. I'm sure I was a terrifying sight. Blood ran down my face and the glow in my eyes had not dimmed. She whimpered, so frightened that she could not even scream.

I bent down to the lifeless body in front of me and picked up a large key ring. I held it up. "I think this is what you are looking for?" I tossed it up the stairs to land with a clang at her feet. "I tell you what. I'll be sporting. I'll let you open the door and give you a head start."

She bent and scooped the key ring up. Her hands shook so bad she barely could get the key in the lock. As she strove to turn the key, she realized I was standing beside her. She flattened against the door, her hands held out in front of her.

"You said you would give me a chance!"

I shrugged my shoulders. "I lied."

I pulled her against me. "Mmmmm, you feel good. I bet you wouldn't mind my making love to you now would you?" 

Her teeth chattered so hard she couldn't speak. Finally, she whispered, "Please. Mercy."

"Mercy is for the merciful." I bit into the throbbing spot on the side of her white neck. Moments later she was dead. 

I let her body fall away, off the side of the stairs. I sat down and rested my head in my hands. I had enjoyed the killing. I had taken actual pleasure in the Countess' terror. God, I was as bad as the whole group of them.

A low moan from the direction of the cells snapped me out of my self-pity. I rushed to drag the bodies to a single pile on one side of the room. As best I could, I cleaned my face and body of the blood. Then I took the keys that had fallen from the Countess' hand and set about releasing the 3 women and 2 men I found in the cells.

When I saw the horrible condition they were in, my remorse fled. Beaten and burned and crippled for no reason other than pleasure. I managed to dress the worst of their injuries. When I was sure night had fallen I led them to a convent, leaving them to the nuns there, along with a considerable amount of money I had gathered from around the townhouse, to insure their care. There was a good bit more, along with some jewels, and I kept that.

It was a good thing that I did. I had taken care to return to the townhouse and burn the bodies but someone started wondering and then looking. The next thing I was running from the local archbishop's vampire hunting squad. The Church is very good at that, even though they've never been as organized and equipped as the ones John Carpenter tells us about. They still can be quite dangerous. Only the greatest of good fortune got me out of a dungeon in Budapest before the traditional "roasting of the vampire" celebration. 

So I ran away. One place was as good as another. I certainly didn't want to have to harm any of the men who would be in that group. And when the revolution started, I was in Spain and beginning to plan how I could get safely to the New World.

************

"And here you are." Pat said softly.

"And here I am."

"Well, we're very glad you are." She struggled out of her husband's lap and pulled on his hand. He rose and followed her as she reached me and kissed me on the cheek. "Its good to know we have someone else on the side of the good guys." She braced her hands and muttered "Oh my aching back. Honey," she looked at Mike. "Take me home."

Mike bent over and kissed me on my forehead. Damn I was terrible. The closer he got the more I liked what I saw. Well, I would behave. It hadn't killed me before. Of course , just it case it might I don't do it very often.

"Goodnight all." They left.

Linda stood and stretched. Oh my. That was a lovely sight. Now I was going to have to behave again. Twice was too much to ask, really. Sue stood and I amended my thought to "three times."

"Dawn is coming and we're all pooped." Linda announced. "Come on Bridget." They led me to a large bedroom, obviously theirs. Sue went through a doorway and I heard water running. Linda pointed after her. "In there is a huge bathtub. If I know Sue, and I do," she smiled happily, "She's adding all sorts of bath salts and bubbles to the water. You go enjoy. We'll find you something clean to sleep in." She suddenly swatted me on the butt and I laughed. "Go on."

Sue was coming out and laughed along with me. "Hey, that's usually my job." Linda blushed deeply. I smiled at their closeness as I headed into the bathroom, shedding my clothes as I went. With a deep, contended sigh I settled into the warm water, pink bubbles tickling me. Wonderful.

How wonderful I was about to find out in short order.

(To be continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 08



I sank back into the large tub and let the hot water begin to soak my aches and pains away. I felt slightly hungry, not surprisingly after the exertion and stress, physical and mental, of the day. Fortunately, I was used to going long periods of time without feeding. I certainly had no intentions of attempting to do anything silly with my new friends. They had already seen me, recognized me for what I am, and yet accepted me for the person I had been, and would always be. No one finds too many friends like that. Not an ordinary mortal, certainly not a centuries old vampire.

I was tempted to kick my feet in the frothing bubbles. I was even more tempted to simply relax and let the soothing water lull me into sleep. After all, it wasn't as though I was going to drown if my head slipped under the water. Not actually breathing does have its advantages. I spread my arms out in the huge tub and floated away. 

My mind had drifted so far away into nothingness that I never heard anyone come into the bathroom. The first I knew was when the water level suddenly rose and I sensed someone in the tub with me. Someone warm. Someone who's fingers were brushing both of my sides, dancing up over my stomach, gently touching the curves of my breasts. Someone who had four hands.

My eyes snapped open and I bolted upright in the tub, causing water to splash up and over the sides. Linda and Sue both laughed. Unbelieving, I looked back and forth from one to the other.

On my right was Linda. Her body was just as I had imagined it; wonderfully slender, graceful and with long legs to die for. Her breasts were small, although larger than mine and tipped with pink nipples. Through the shifting water I could see the dark triangle between her legs was neatly trimmed.

On my left, Sue was a complete contrast. Her body was fuller, more obviously strong while remaining feminine. Her larger breasts had large aureole with nipples shorter than Linda's. Sparse blonde hair covered her pussy.

Linda leaned over and kissed me. Her lips were so warm on mine. "Squirm up a bit Bridget," she instructed. "Sue wants to scrub your back." She slipped around in front of me, a naughty light dancing in her eyes. Resting her back against the tub, she took my hands and scooted me towards her. "I, on the other hand, plan to scrub your front."

Oh my god. I tried to make some intelligent remark, but could only croak as Sue slid behind me and kissed me on the side of my neck. I felt her full breasts press against my back. She leaned back slightly, until only her two stiff nipples were brushing against my skin. I felt a tingling sensation along my shoulders as she spread a cool gel along my back. Her palms began to rub in what I assumed was body wash.

Linda leaned forward, one hand holding a bath scrubber. Her legs slid under mine and she giggled slightly as my feet, floating in the water, brushed past her hips. She bent her own knees as she scooted herself closer to me. Her feet slipped under my bottom and the insides of my thighs touched her waist.

"Body wash," she commanded as she held the scrubber over my shoulder. I felt Sue pause in her gentle massage of my back, and then begin again as Linda brought the sponge to me. She passed it along my right shoulder, moving it around and around as she brought it up to my neck. Her other hand went over my left shoulder and Sue's hand there stopped for a moment. I felt their fingers intertwine for a long moment.

Then Sue had returned to rubbing my shoulders. Her strong fingers worked the bath gel into suds and covered every pore in them. If I had felt boneless before, the relaxation of my back muscles made me feel even more on the verge of falling asleep.

Linda, on the other hand, was making sure I did not fall asleep. After washing my neck, she went down my left shoulder. Without any hesitation she came back to her left. This time she was lower. This time she began to gently wash my breast. I gasped deeply as the yielding material moved in large lazy circles over my breast. Lacey frills on the edges of the wash tool scraped over my nipple, exciting it to stiffness.

With no expression on her calm face, Linda plunged the scrubber in the small valley between my breasts. She rotated the sponge several times and went on to my other breast, repeating the ministrations she had given the first one. Sue's hands had worked down to the middle of my back. Between her firm touches and Linda's soft arousal on my breasts I couldn't help myself. My back arched slightly and a moan began deep in my throat.

They showed no mercy. Instead, they both moved in closer, pinning me between them. Linda held me tight with her bent legs pressing tightly on my sides. Sue's went around Linda's. Mine formed a vee, with Linda at the apex. I could feel her bumping against the junction of my legs.

As Linda moved the body scrubber down over my quaking stomach, Sue abandoned my back. Her arms slid around my waist and rose to take each of my breasts in a cupped hand. Her own breasts returned to be crushed against my back. The nipples that had occasionally tantalized me before now poked like two firm points into me. She lifted me slightly in the water and I felt her mound begin to move against my ass.

The sponge floated past my glazed vision. Linda's hands were under me, on the back of my thighs, her fingers running along the bottom creases of my ass. She pushed forward to me. Her smaller tits touched the back of Sue's hands and I felt her dark bush contact the red hair of mine.

"Help," I managed to gasp, "I'm being ravaged by fair maidens." Linda stopped my mumbling with a kiss. Her lips clung to mine, pulling my lower lip with hers and then letting it snap back. Sue's hands left my breasts to slide under Linda's arms. With a grunt she pulled both of them right to me.

I don't know how they did it. I suppose it was some sort of telepathy used by long time lovers. Goodness knows my parents managed it all the time. The simple lift of an eyebrow spoke volumes to each other. I don't think Sue and Linda could even see each other, since I was pretty well crammed between them. But they both stood up in the tub at the same time, lifting me along with them. Linda's lips never even left mine until they had carried me out of the tub and began to dry me off.

More heaven. Big fluffy towels, WARM fluffy towels. Four hands patting me with them. As one grew damp it was replaced by another. The layers of cotton drained the moisture from me, all the way from the top of my head down to between my curling toes.

All except one place. Even though two giggling women ran a towel between my legs and sawed it back and forth, almost lifting me off the stretched toes I was balancing on, my flame colored pussy was drenched. Two dry bodies pinned me again as the useless towel was dropped. A dark haired pussy met mine and a blonde one pushed against me ass.

"To bed," breathed Sue in my ear, just before she took the lobe of it in her teeth and gently bit down. Four arms circled me and I was carried to the queen sized bed I had passed earlier. The three of us fell in a tangle of arms and legs that left it almost impossible to determine who was touching whom.

As they had in the tub, they once again pinned me gently between them. I was on my left side, facing Linda. Her body pressed tightly to mine and her open mouth closed onto mine. Sue slid in behind me. One arm found its way under me, the other crept between my arm and my side. Both hands nestled back onto my breasts.

Linda's thigh pushed between my legs. I was still wet there, and the gentle friction of her smooth skin on my pussy made me gasp deep into her questing mouth. Sue pushed her mound against my ass. Her hips moved, rubbing her blonde pussy up and down along the cleft of my ass in a rhythm matching her gentle squeezing of my breasts.

Even as my passion flared, a part of my mind could not help but remark the difference between the couple I was with tonight and the pair of women I had recently been with. Sue and Linda were striving to please me, and to please themselves in the doing. Everything was soft touches and gentle caresses. When Linda slid her body down mine, dragging her tongue between my breasts and over my belly to my pussy, it felt like I was floating away on a soft cloud. Sue's lips nibbled my neck, my ears and the top of my back. Her fingers stroked my nipples in ever widening circles. I could feel her own wetness seeping along the cleft of my ass as she pushed into me. I was already shaking when Linda's lips closed over my pussy and her tongue slid inside the already open slit to plunge inside me.

I cried out. I felt Linda's hand slip past me and I realized she was fingering Sue's pussy even as her tongue curled along my inside walls. I heard Sue moan deeply at her lover's touch. A wide-eyed glance down revealed Sue's foot stretched out and her toes wigling between Linda's legs. Then all three of us were shuddering and calling each other's names. I was arching to Linda's tongue deep in my pussy and offering her the uniqueness of my woman's nectar. I felt Sue's spill on onto my ass as she held tightly against me and Linda's body spasms travel right up inside me. 

When all our breathing had returned to normal, I found myself stretched out in the left side of the bed. Linda's head was pillowed on my right shoulder, her hand warm on my stomach. Sue was snuggled tightly up to her lover, her arm around Linda's waist.

"Bridget?"

"Hmmmm?"

"This isn't something we do." Sue was looking earnestly at me. "We're in a committed relationship. We love each other. It just was something about you. Even before we brought you back to the bath tub we had decided 'Just this one time'."

"Why is that?" I turned my head towards them. "Because I'm a vampire?" I knew that had proved fascinating to more than one man or woman over the years who had discovered what I was. A scarier thought struck me. "Or was it," I took a deep breath, "Was it because you felt sorry for me?" I tried to keep my voice and face steady. From the expression on their faces I had managed to do neither.

"BRIDGET!" Linda lifted her head from my shoulder and transfixed me with a look that showed the steel under the dancer's form. "We would never do that. Yes, we can tell you're lonely, lonelier than most people could imagine. But we decided to be with you because we wanted you, Bridget the woman. Not the vampire. Not the wanderer. Besides," and her eyes twinkled again, "You're a pretty hot little babe, and I always wanted an Irish girl anyway."

The tense mood broke with those last words and we all laughed. I started to apologize but Sue stretched over and stopped me with a kiss. We snuggled back down into the bed.

"This is pretty," I lazily commented, my fingers following the curlicues of an ornate silver hair brush lying on the bed stand. When I caught the furtive grins the two women exchanged I demanded, "Okay, what gives? Spill it!"

Sue leaned over me to take the hairbrush and hold it in the air, the light reflecting off the silver. She grinned and I realized Linda was blushing slightly.

"Sometimes Linda is a bad girl," Sue commented with a wicked look in her eyes. "A VERY bad girl. And bad girls need to be punished." She tapped the back of the brush on her hip."

"Myyyyyyy," I breathed out. Not that I was a stranger to just about any kind of sexual play, but in the already aroused mood I was in, the picture of the hairbrush descending on Linda's firm butt was erotic as hell.

Either I was concentrating too deeply on the vivid metal image or they had another one of the silent communications. Sue rose from the bed. Still tapping the hairbrush against her leg, she pulled an armless chair from the desk in the corner of the room. She carried it over to my side of the bed. She sat down facing me.

"Bridget," whispered Linda in my ear. "What you thought, about us, about why. You're a very bad girl, you know."

My throat dried up and I had trouble speaking. Sue was running the back of the hairbrush over herself. Now she was touching her breasts with it. Now she wandered down over her stomach and slipped it between her legs. 

"Yes Linda," I managed to say hoarsely. "I've been a very bad girl indeed." 

Sue curled a finger, motioning me to her. I was unconsciously panting for air that I didn't need. I swear I almost heard my heart beat for the first time in centuries. I was actually trembling in excitement as I stretched my body over Sue's knees, bent into a U-shape with my toes and fingers touching the floor. And of course, my ass lifted up.

Sue's hand rubbed my ass gently. Then I felt the coolness of the hairbrush's silver back replace her warm hand. Around and around it stroked while Sue murmured, "Bad girl, Bridget, oh such a bad girl." I felt the brush leave my skin. With a sudden flick of her wrist she brought it sharply down on my left cheek. "Pop." I gasped. "POP." This stroke fell on my right cheek. The burning sensation spread all over my ass and deep in my body.

I bit my lip to keep from screaming. Of course my ass didn't turn colors like I suspected Linda's did under the same treatment, but damnnnnn, I was getting so incredibly turned on. Sue would deliver a spank to each cheek and then rub her free hand over the spot the brush had just fallen on. If she was trying to massage the feeling into me, it was working.

"Oh yea," I whispered as my ass caught fire. The pain was so incredibly pleasurable. I realized that the brush strokes alone were going to make me cum without even touching myself. I was rocking back and forth over Sue's knees, trying to raise my ass even higher for her.

"Mmmm, she loves that darling," Linda's soft voice floated to me. Glancing at her, I saw she was stretched on her side watching. On hand cupped her breast, her fingers twisting and pulling on the nipple. The other was caressing herself between her legs. Even as I watched, she drew one finger along her open pussy and then raised it to her mouth. She slipped it inside and began to suck on it.

Sue answered. "She does indeed baby. I can feel her dripping on my thigh. She's such a naughty girl. And she's about to cum for us, aren't you naughty girl?" Her arm rose and fell, harder, paddling my ass with fierce strokes. 

All I could force out of my tight throat was a strangled gasp. I bucked my hips up and my body tensed. Sue felt it, for suddenly she reversed the brush and drug the stiff bristles over the raw nerve endings. That did it, I screamed as the delicious pain pushed me right over the edge. My glazed eyes saw Linda jam her fingers back inside herself and cry out from the results. Then I was limply slumped over Sue's knees. When I regained some semblance of awareness, I was back on the bed with lotion being gently applied to my ass.

I felt warm breath on my face and a soft kiss. "Sleep now, Bridget. We'll wake you at sundown." There was a chuckle. "Some of have to go to work you know."

I woke to the sound of voices from the living room. From the deep male voice I guessed that Mike, and probably Pat too were here. I jumped out of bed and ran my fingers over my ass. Damn, I had experimented with some things like that over the centuries but I don't think any other time had been like that. I noted absent-mindedly that the scratches were still slightly there. They should have healed by now. My body was reminding me it needed feeding. 

I firmly put that thought aside and dressed hurriedly in jeans and shirt that was a lot more comfortable and a lot less revealing than when I had last seen them all. I ran a brush through my hair, NOT the one from last night, and came out to meet the new evening.

"Hi Bridget," came a chorus. Bless her, Sue handed me a cup of coffee. Even a vampire's mind requires kick starting. I was happy to notice there were no leers from either Mike or Pat. Not that I really expected them, they obviously were perfectly comfortable with their lesbian coworkers and probably didn't care at all whether or not I had been in bed with them.

"So, any news?" I addressed that question to the group at large, but looked at Mike. I reasoned he was the senior uniform officer and would likely hear more from the patrol officers who would naturally be the first to take note of any suspicious reports.

"No nothing, he brooded. "I don't know if he's just lying low Bridget or has left. There's no reports that lead me to a conclusion either way, but somehow I think he's gone."

I was nodding vigorously in support of what he was saying, and noticing that the top two buttons on his shirt were undone, when Linda grasped my elbow.

"Bridget? Could you help me with some coffee for everyone?"

Well I wasn't born yesterday, to put it mildly. I knew she wanted to tell me something in private. So I rose and followed her into the kitchen.

Linda pulled me into the far corner, valiantly attempting to muffle her laughter. "Bridget, I swear, are you insatiable? Sue and I spent all night trying to please you, and here you are making cow eyes at Mike."

I wish I could have blushed. "I didn't know it was that obvious."

"Well Mike will never notice. The big innocent that he is, he wouldn't recognize a pass if you threw your arms around him and tried to hump him. Now Pat, she's already spotted your interest."

"Oh god." Now I desperately wanted to blush, and to hide.

"Its okay." At my surprised look she hastily continued. "Not like that Bridget! No, Mike is a one-woman man and Pat simply knows that the idea of straying is completely foreign to him. She never worries about that. She's more likely flattered that you think he's a sexy guy."

"Well he is that."

I was surprised again when a smile danced over Linda's face. "Oh, you don't even know the half of it."

I wanted to ask more, but I had a feeling that I wasn't going to get any answers. Instead, I followed her back to the living room. I shook my head, determined to get my attention back on the job. I glanced at Pat and Mike. Somehow I wasn't surprised to see a slight smile on Pat's face. Oh god, she HAD noticed. Then she gave me a wink and I realized Linda was right.

I smiled, wistfully and I'm sure with more than a hint of jealousy. It must be nice to be that sure of someone. I cleared my throat and tried to proceed with the business at hand.

"Pat, Mike, when I asked Linda why the four of you seemed so," I groped for the word I wanted, "Unstartled? What I'm trying to say, although surprised by what happened at the club, and since then, somehow, this is not your first experience with the supernatural. Most people would have freaked. You all took it in stride. Linda said I would have to ask the two of you."

"It started with a series of ritualistic murders. Pat was the lead investigator," Mike said quietly. Maybe she knew every nuance of his thinking, but I wondered if Pat realized just how much emotion was charged in that simple comment. He had been scared to death when she worked that case. "We finally discovered what was going on and attempted to intervene." He went on to describe the discovery that the two of them were cut off without support and how they had plunged into an abandoned factory to discover a coven of some kind.

"They were raising something," Pat picked up the thread of the story. "I won't swear to this day I know what." She told about the black cold figure that had appeared. "I thought we were toast, possibly quite literally, but then we got help." She told me about the old man with the cane and how he come to their aid, dealing with whatever had been summoned while the two of them handled the humans.

"That's the reason we were able to accept you Bridget," Linda told me. "They told me, I told Sue. So we're already aware that another world exists close beside ours."

A suspicion had woken deep in my mind and was trying to make itself heard. Not the angel, I had never seen any of them but I was happy to acknowledge their existence. Something about the , whatever it was, devil? Demon? Then it hit me.




Bridget's Nights Ch. 08



"Oh SHIT!" I sat bolt upright.

A chorus of "What?" of four different variations and in four different voices flooded back to me.

"I know what the hell Thorfinn is up to." I paused for a moment. "And 'Hell' is the correct word to use."

(To Be Continued)



Bridget's Nights Ch. 09



Mike's deep voice smothered everyone else's hurried questions. "What is it Bridget?" 

"Vampires feed from blood. But Thorfinn has been taking an enormous amount, more than he needs, more actually than he can drink. He's accumulating the blood, and the power it gives him, for a sacrifice. For a summoning."

"Summoning what?" Sue inquired.

"I don't know for sure, but you can bet its not going to anything we are going to like." I thought about it for a moment. "Probably one of the Norse gods, or at least the demons that appeared to them as gods. I need to call Robert and some other contacts. Can someone run me to the precinct?"

"Call from here," Linda said crisply. "Its okay, I have a department line installed here."

I called Robert and rapidly filled him in on my assumptions. "I'm betting that he's going to be headed someplace with some connection to the Viking presence in America. He would want to feel a link to the past." I hung up. "Robert's going to get right on it. He tells me most places with that history are going to be in Canada, since Newfoundland is the most likely site of Vinland, as the Viking explorers called America."

Linda picked up the phone and punched a series of numbers. Covering the receiver, she spoke to me. "I don't know how fast you can get what you want from your sources, but I bet I can get it faster." She turned her attention back to the phone. "Josh Crane, please." Looking back at me she continued, "This young man is THE wiz at finding things via computer."

She tapped her foot impatiently. "Josh! Its Linda. I need a big favor and I need it now." She explained some of what was going on. "Our friend here has FBI contacts that will locate the likely places. What I need from you is the UNlikely places. Thanks. Call me back at home. I know you probably already have the number."

I paced. I worried. I knew that Thorfinn was done with his hunt and proceeding to the next stage. How did I know that? No clue. But I did.

The first call back was from Robert. He had made arrangements with a special branch of the RCMP that covered cases like this. A joint US/Canadian task force was blanketing any area with the slightest connection to Viking legends or myths. HRT was standing by and Delta Force had deployed to a central location. He assured me all the bases were covered.

I could relax. The hell I could relax. Thorfinn was a psychotic asshole but he wasn't stupid. You don't manage to exist for a thousand years by being easy to anticipate.

Linda's friend and protege Josh called back about an hour later. Linda scribbled notes furiously. "Okay, Josh. Keep a search engine open for any strange reports from that area. Call me here and I'll pass the information to Bridget. How's Samantha? Well the first trimester is the worst. Give her a kiss from all of us." She hung up. "Can you get aerial transportation?," she asked me.

"Yes." I replied confidently. "To where?" came out a lot more uncertain.

"Minnesota."

Okay, now I was very uncertain. "Huh? There's no evidence there of Norse visitation." I corrected myself, "Rather any that does exist has been held to be forgeries."

"Yes, but two things come to mind. First, what if some of that evidence isn't falsified? And second, what if it is fake , but Thorfinn believes it? Its where no one else is looking. What better place?"

I nodded. I called my standby transportation number and was told I could be picked up in an hour. Mike and Pat left to make arrangements for the chopper to land at the Sheriff's Office. When they had left I sat heavily down on the couch. My mind was sharp but my body slumped.

Linda took my face in her hands. "Bridget," she said quietly, when did you feed last?"

"I'm okay," I promised.

She rolled up her sleeve. "No you're not. Bridget, you need to be on top of your game here." Sue knelt on the other side of me, her arm held out also. "Shhhhhh," Linda soothed me as I tried to protest. "We trust you completely." Both women's arms were steady, as steady as the gaze they leveled at me.

Taking Linda's arm, I bent my head. The pulse just below her elbow called to me. As gently as I had ever done anything in my life, I bit her. Even so, I winced as I heard her gasp. Then the warm blood was flowing into me. I drank just a bit and made to raise my head. Linda's hand firmly settled on my neck. 

"More. Take a pint." I could feel her smile. "Just consider it my monthly donation. Right to the user rather than the blood bank."

Five minutes later I was in the bathroom washing my face. When I came out, Sue and Linda were both sporting colorful band aids on their arms. I felt tears in my eyes.

"Its okay," Sue hastened to reassure me. "You didn't hurt us. In fact," she chuckled, you have a much smoother touch than the nurse who usually comes to the department."

"Its not that," I sniffled. "Its just, its just I get so tired sometimes. Being what I am I mean."

They both hugged me. Sue spoke first. "What you are is a friend. I'm sure that you are very lonely at times. But come back here. You will always be welcome."

They drove me to the landing pad. Pat and Mike were there. Pat hugged me and kissed me. "Be careful damnit." Mike handed me a heavy cooler.

"That should keep you going." At my startled reaction he continued. "We just had a hasty blood drive for a Federal Officer who needed a transfusion." He hugged me and stepped back. I vowed I would not start crying again and jumped into the chopper. I strapped myself in and waved as we took off. I wave as long as I thought I could even imagine seeing the ground.

The chopper sped through the night. Before long we landed at a military field and I transferred to a small jet, one with pull down shades on the windows. We stopped once somewhere for refueling and took back off on our trek north. I paced and worried and tried to rest.

Midway through the flight my cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Bridget this is Josh." He rattled off a location. "There's a report of a family missing from that area. Mother, father, three children. According to the State Police the house looks like it was , and I quote 'destroyed by a madman' unquote."

"Okay, thanks Josh. Say, how did you get this number?"

"Child's play," he assured me. I guess it was to him. Me, I used electronics, but my comprehension had stopped at moveable type.

We arrived at another military airfield. I jumped into the government issue SUV that was waiting and scratched off. I knew I only had a couple hours before daylight. I didn't know if Thorfinn would act tonight, but I had to assume he would.

I was shown to the house by a deputy who had none of the charm of the ones I had just left. I understood that he thought I was wasting his time. The search grid had expanded over the hours and now stretched far beyond the immediate area. The house itself had been sealed after the Crime Scene people had been through it but my interest was outside anyway. He waited impatiently while I prowled around the house searching for some sign of where they went.

"Think Bridget," I told myself. The vehicles belonging to the family were still here. There was no sign of strange tire tracks. How did he get here then? He must have parked nearby in some hidden location. That meant he would have had to carry the family back to his lair on foot. It would have taken more than one trip.

"One question," I asked the deputy. "Did you try tracking dogs?"

He looked uncomfortable. "We did, but," he hesitated.

"But what?"

He looked embarrassed. "They wouldn't track. They circled the house and just quit. They scratched at the doors to the canine unit until we let them in and refused to come back out."

I nodded. Then my nostrils caught a faint scent. A blood scent. It was not however human. Speaking of dogs...

I rushed to the deputy as he climbed back into his unit. "Wait! The family here. Did they have a dog of their own?"

"Why yes they did. Look, I gotta go." He slammed the door and left.

I walked around the house, sniffing the air. I knew why the dogs had refused to track. After all, Thorfinn, and me too in fact, was dead. Dogs know when something unnatural is around.

There, the scent was strongest in one direction. I started to follow it and then stopped. I walked quickly back to the vehicle and opened the cooler Mike had given to me. If I was going to stand any chance in the fight I was sure was coming I would have to be as strong as I could be. One after another I drained the bags. Somehow I felt that this blood, given instead of taken, would prove to be the edge

I took off. I felt a slightly beaten pathway under my feet and followed it. Tree branches slapped my body and my face but I plowed on. The scent grew stronger. I was running now. Suddenly my foot caught something yielding and I heard a faint whimper.

I fell to my knees. I had dropped my flashlight somewhere, but the full moon showed I had stumbled over a dog. I gathered him into my arms. He was hurt, hurt very badly. How he had managed to crawl this far after his people I couldn't imagine, but his bravery and love of his family had given me the chance to save them. Because in front of us was an almost hidden cave opening. Had I not followed his trail, I very well might have gone right past it.

"Good boy," I crooned to him and stroked his head. I knew he couldn't last much longer. He made one feeble attempt to lick my hand and then he was gone. I carefully set him down and took one moment to ask God to look out for him. Now I was really pissed.

I slipped carefully along the cavern walls. Light flickered ahead as I rounded a curve. I strained my ears and heard Thorfinn's voice rumbling somewhere ahead. I caught my foot on an outcropping of rock and smothered a curse. Why the hell did Thorfinn have to go with torches that barely lit the damn place? I know they were period pieces from his youth but this is the 20th Century after all. What would have been wrong with electric lights?

Somehow I managed to make it silently down the rock strewn trail without dislodging anything or making a sound. Thorfinn's exultant voice had faded by the time I peeked around the corner into the torch lit room.

There was the missing family. The father was straining desperately against the ropes holding him down. I also saw the mother and the two older children. A sinking feeling came over me as I realized that the youngest child was missing. I had a terrible feeling I knew where she was.

Now speed was more important than anything else. I rushed into the room. Imploring eyes met mine. I raced to the father. Cautioning him to be quiet, I cut his bonds. He ripped the gag from his mouth even as I set about freeing the rest of the family. 

"He took Lori," the father managed to whisper. "He broke into our house. I tried to stop him but he overpowered me. My god, what is he? And what is he doing with my daughter?" He stifled a groan and flexed painfully as the circulation became to return to his limbs. I saw all of them were having trouble moving. Undoubtedly they had been bound for hours.

"Which way did they go?" I demanded. "Show me." He led me through an archway on the other side of the room. I took the lead until I saw the passage open out into a much bigger cavern. As we felt our way through the semi-darkness I could hear Thorfinn's booming voice begin to chant.

Looking from the shadows, I saw the young girl bound over a stone. I recalled what Pat and Mike had told me about the attempted sacrifice they had interrupted and knew I was seeing another. Thorfinn stood with his back to her about 20 feet away. His arms were outstretched and he was chanting towards a rude altar of rock. A figurine I did not recognize immediately was atop the stones.

"Oh GOD," whispered the father. "What is he doing?"

"He's trying to raise his ancient god, Odin." The man looked at me in disbelief. "I know and you know Odin is not a god. But he is a demon lord who was worshipped as one once." I shook my head. "We don't have time." I pressed my knife into his hand. "When I jump him, you cut your daughter loose. Take her and the rest of your family back the way you saw me come in." I handed him the keys to my SUV and my cell phone. "Follow the pathway back to your house. As soon as you're at my vehicle, press the first memory button. It will contact you with the FBI's Hostage Rescue Team. Give them the location here as best as you can and then get the hell out of there."

"What are you going to do?"

"Slow him down and make sure he doesn't catch you."

"You can't do that," he said.

"You're not going to be moving very fast, and he could overtake you before you got a third of the way."

"Let me fight him for God's sake. You're a woman and he's not even human."

"No he isn't human." I let my face slip for an instant and he turned white. "But then, neither am I." 

I poised myself to charge Thorfinn and then felt a hand on my arm. The father looked steadily at me. "Whatever and whoever you are, God be with you."

I crossed myself and took off. I gambled that Thorfinn's attention would be inward instead of on his surroundings. Running as hard as I ever had in my life, I launched myself into a flying kick and slammed into the other vampire. We both fell to the cavern floor. I rolled over and faced him.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw the man cut his daughter loose. Scooping her into his arms he hobbled out of sight back towards his family. I paused for one second and prayed as hard as I ever had in my existence, living or undead, that I could find the strength to hold back Thorfinn until they were safe. I had no illusions that I could defeat him.

We both came up swinging. I had the advantage of surprise but it faded fast. I got two good shots in while he was getting up but then he landed a blind swing that almost took my head off. By the time I could see clearly again he was braced, ready and grinning at me. Technically a handsome male, that grin made him as ugly as anyone I had ever crossed paths with over the centuries. But then, after all, that's what he was, ugly.

"Well, well, well," he mocked me. "If it isn't the little spitfire Bridget. I warned you more than once to stay out of my way. This time you're dust." His gaze went passed me to the empty place where the little girl had been. "You BITCH."

"That's me, asshole," I livened the conversation by trying to kick him in the balls. Unfortunately my aim was off and I only got the inside of his thigh. Still, it brought his attention back to me. 

Oh great. He snarled and reached behind him. From a hidden cleft in the rock he produced a shinning double bitted axe. He laughed and angled the blade to flash light in my eyes. "As I dealt with your peasant ancestors you Irish bitch, I'll deal with you."


He took an enormous cut at me. I rolled under the blow of the axe and back to my feet.

"I think I'll just cut your arms and legs off," he grunted as he feinted a blow at my legs and then swung at my head. "Ooops, that would kill you. And I don't want you dead. I want you to watch as I gut the precious humans you tried to help and offer their blood to Odin Allfather."

I managed to dodge another blow of the axe. I knew I couldn't do that much longer. Sooner or later a stroke of that axe would catch me. But in my mind's eye I could see the family still stumbling up the path towards the open air. I kept circling Thorfinn.


"Well, I tell you what. That's the most heroic thing I've ever seen."

Astonished, both Thorfinn and I backed away from each other enough to look to the side. I was floored. An elderly man limped towards us. He leaned heavily on a cane of gnarled wood.

"What did you say, old man?" snarled Thorfinn.

"Just what you thought, bub. You're a foot taller than her. You're, what a 150 pounds heavier than her. You're a man, she's a woman. You have a huge axe. She has her bare hands. Yep mister, you're some kind of Norse warrior alright." The old man turned his back on Thorfinn and looked at me. "Damn. I'm some kinda proud of you, little lady. I can't interfere directly here, but I can make things even. Catch!"

He lofted his cane through the air to me and I caught it by the knob. To my amazement, it wasn't a cane anymore. It was a sword of gleaming white steel. I whipped it in a gleaming figure eight.

"Well now Thorfinn." Let's see if you do better than your chain-mailed Vikings did against my 'peasant ancestors" when they broke your rule at Clontarf. I screamed the ancient war cry of the O'Briens, "Lamhlaidir a n-Uachtar!", lunged for his heart and the fight was on.

Back and forth we battled across the floor. I matched my speed and agility against his size and strength. The sword rang against his axe head. His visage darkened and he redoubled his blows, becoming again the berserker he had once been. I didn't flinch. Woman or not, the ancient Irish lust for battle surged up in me and I launched as many attacks as he did.

The clanging of the sword blade and the axe became deafening. A ripple ran down from the point of my sword as we fought and then the blade caught fire. Flames raced up and down its length. When I thrust, Thorfinn covered his face from the fire, but it left blisters on his cheek. To me, the flames were cool, to him they burned. 

I drove him to the wall, his back against his altar. His blows were becoming weaker as the strength he had gathered poured out of half a dozen small wounds that would not heal. He flailed almost aimlessly at me, his free arm up to protect his face.

With a roar that shook the torches in their holders he gathered himself and delivered a mighty swing that would have cleaved me right down the middle had it struck home. I rolled forward, thrusting the sword into his chest. He screamed at the fire. His axe broke against the stone floor. As I pulled the sword free he bent forward helplessly. I whirled the sword over my head and brought it down on his neck.

His head spun from his body. The remainder of the power he had accumulated exploded from his body in a flash of devouring darkness. The sword in my hand brightened to an unbelievable intensity, beating back the darkness. The forces were too much even for my body and mind. I fell to the ground unconscious.

(To Be Concluded)

(Note. For the battle cry of the O'Briens of ancient Ireland, which translates into English as "Strong Hand Uppermost", I am indebted to Traynor's Web Page and its mountains of information about the Irish of old.) 



Bridget's Nights Ch. 10



I could hear someone groaning. After a moment I realized that it was, of course, me. How many times over the centuries had I woke up like this? Too many to count, and certainly more than I remembered.

Damn it was dark in here. For a moment I had no idea where "here" was. The memories flooded back; the cavern, the family, the old man and most of all Thorfinn. The torches must have all burned out while I lay unconscious. I tried to move. I could barely bend my arms or flex my fingers. I was incredibly stiff and I ached all over.

Finally after long minutes of trying I managed to crawl towards what my memory dimly told me was the altar area. My muscles and joints finally loosened enough to get on my hands and knees and fumble over stones. I found what I was looking for, a box of matches. Striking one, I looked around in the flaring light and spotted a torch that had not burned completely up. Memorizing its location, I walked there as the match went out. I caught it up and lit it.

The light hurt my eyes. I examined the room. No sword. No Thorfinn. Not even ashes. For a moment I panicked. Had I somehow not killed him? No, I was able to reassure myself. He was dead. Not even someone as powerful as he was could survive his head being cut off.

As the feeling came back into my body I began to itch. I was covered in fine dust. If it had been possible for me to sneeze I would have been doing so. Instead I brushed the accumulated dust off my body. I looked around again and saw nothing. Shrugging my shoulders I left, following the passage back to where the family had been.

They were, of course, gone. My eye caught a glimpse of something and I picked it up. It was the rotting remnants of a piece of rope. Thoughts chased back and forth through my mind. Where was Robert and the backup team? Or anyone? Just how long had I been laying in this cavern?

I cautiously proceeded down the exit shaft. After all, I didn't want to be caught unexpectedly by daylight. When I did see light, it was the silvery radiance of the moon.

I had no luck finding the path that led back to the house. Apparently I was still somewhat confused, for I wandered aimlessly through the forest area until I stumbled upon a hard surface road. A trucker picked me up and was kind enough to deliver me to the police station at the next town we came to. I would have liked to have thanked him further, he was cute, in a rather beefy, solid way, but I needed to check in first.

Fortunately I still had my ID folder. On its strength I was able to call Washington. Twice. The first time I dialed Robert's direct number and it came back disconnected. The second time I went through the FBI switchboard where a voice stiffly informed me that she would see if Deputy Director Dale could take my call. After listening to a short, but pungent, fit on my part, she connected me.

He answered on the second ring. I overrode the secretary trying to butt into the conversation.

"Robert, where the hell were you? I've been walking through these damn woods and looking for the damn team and I couldn't find a damn soul and when the hell did you get promoted and what the FUCK is going on?" Its a good thing I don't need to breathe.

"BRIDGET! Oh my GOD. I thought you were dead!"

"Well I'm not," I started to say more but he cut me off. That in itself made me wonder. Robert never interrupted, especially a lady, which he had always been thoughtful enough to consider me.

"Where the HELL have you been?"

"What do you mean?" I was getting shaky now. Robert never cusses.

"Bridget, have you looked at a calendar?"

"No," I simply replied. I let my eyes wander across the office. I froze. That couldn't be right. It wasn't possible. I couldn't speak, but I must have made some croaking noises because apparently Robert knew I had realized the date. And the year.

"Yes," he paused. "You've been gone for fifteen years."

Any person trained in simple first aid can tell you that you faint because the blood supply leaves your brain. Therefore, vampires cannot faint. Therefore, there was obviously some other reason I found myself stretched out on the floor with a couple of nice cops hovering over me and Robert's voice blaring from the phone.

Once I decided I could get up and stay up, at least as far as the chair the officers helped me to, I tried to make sense of it. Robert explained that he had indeed received a call from the family I had rescued that night. By the time he convinced enough people to respond, two days had gone by. Regardless of how hard they searched, they were never able to find the cave. Finally, they had to give up.

He assured me the killings had ended. I was able to briefly summarize what had occurred in the cavern. It was nice to know that my memories of parting Thorfinn from his head were most likely real. I considered saying a short prayer, but all I could think of was "Hope you're close to the fire, you bastard".

"Bridget. Go to a hotel. Call me when you get there and I'll make the arrangements for you. I'll also get a car up to you by tomorrow night, new credit cards and some clothes. I guess there's no need for you to rush back to report. After fifteen years another couple of days or a week won't matter."

You wouldn't think I would be sleepy after having been, I don't know, unconscious? in suspended animation? for 15 years, but I ended up sleeping the clock around. When I got up that evening there was an envelope on the dresser in my room. Inside was a driver's license, credit cards, several hundred dollars in cash and car keys. 

After a short debate with myself, I headed south and east. In two nights I had made my way back to Jackson County in Georgia. I headed to the main Sheriff's Office at dusk, hoping I could catch one of my friends before they went home for the night. 

As luck would have it, when I walked in the main door I caught sight of in In/Out Board behind the desk sergeant. I saw that Deputy Inspector M. Gibson was out, but that Captain P. Gibson was in. My credentials got me through and I bounded up the stairs to an office that read "Internal Affairs".

"Bridget!" Pat Gibson swung her feet off the desk in her private office. She walked around it and hugged me. "About time you got here."

"Let me guess. Robert called you?" She nodded. "I have GOT to remember to check the car for bugs."

"Well, perhaps he's done that, but he called Mike and I at home with the news a couple days ago. He said he had just got off the phone with you."

"I suppose he knew that I'd head down here," I said. "So did you pass the information on to Linda and Sue?"

Pat's face fell and a cold hand seized my heart.

"Oh dear god. What happened?"

"Linda was caught up in a bank robbery several years ago. She exchanged herself as a hostage for a pregnant woman. Some of the details will never be known, but one of the holdup men got distracted and she tried to take them down. She succeeded but was fatally wounded."

"And Sue?"

"It crushed her. She loved Linda so much. She tried to hang on here. Linda's children from her marriage were incredibly supportive. They could have contested the will leaving the house to Sue but they didn't. Finally though, the memories got to be too strong for her. She moved out of state. We still keep in touch with her and she's rebuilding her life."

More friends gone. I didn't even know Linda had ever been married, much less that she had children. Pat hugged me again. "Come on, I've been waiting. Mike is at home and we want to know what happened."

"I need to check in just so Robert can feel smug about being right. Can I meet you there is 30 minutes or so?"

"Sure, let me give you directions."

When I knocked on the door later that evening I was met by a large young man and a big bear hug. I blinked my eyes twice. The man was a spitting image of Mike as he must have been at 20. He saw my confusion and laughed.

"Bridget, the last time you saw me I was 5. I'm Mikie, Mike, Jr." He ushered me inside. I was similarly smothered by Mike, Sr. 

Over some wine and snacks, both of which I enjoyed, they brought me up to date on everything that had been taking place here. The two daughters I remembered were both married and Pat and Mike were now grandparents. Mike, Jr. was a cop like his parents and older sister. I returned the favor by basically spilling everything that had happened in the hunt for Thorfinn. I was probably breaking seven different kinds of security but I really didn't care.

All through the evening my eyes kept straying to Mikie. Damn he was handsome. No wonder Pat had latched on to his father. He was also polite, deferential and more than once I caught him looking at my legs. I was glad I had worn a skirt.

During one break in the conversation I helped Pat take some glasses and the now empty platter to the kitchen. As we stood in one corner, she leaned over to me and put her mouth to my ear.

"Bridget," Pat whispered to me, "I've seen other girls look at Mikie like they were going to eat him up. Since you can really do it, you behave." I actually opened my mouth to protest I would never do any such thing when I caught the twinkle in her eyes. "Got you," she giggled.

Eventually we ran out of conversation. We sat companionably for a bit but I began to notice half-covered yawns and fluttering eyelids. I kissed all three of them and took my leave.

The stars filled the night sky. I wasn't tired myself. I wondered if that club I had been to so many years ago was still there. I didn't feel like dancing, but I felt strongly like getting plastered. I mean knee-walking, head-spinning drunk. 

The Rave was still there. The music was still terrible. They didn't have Irish whiskey and the Scotch was a really cheap blend. I didn't care. I took the bottle to a side table and glared at anyone who tried to sit down, talk to me or breath near me. Somewhere between the first and second bottles I reached the point I wanted to be. Thank goodness alcohol still affects a vampire.

At least this time I remained conscious, or at least semi-conscious. I remembered inviting a stevedore-type guy outside when he made some reference to my continual toasts to Linda. Apparently things were smoothed over because I couldn't find any sign I had been in a fight when the hangover relented enough for me to grasp my surroundings.

I was in a nice bed. Well, I always enjoy waking up in one of those. Looking around the room I could tell it was a guy's bed. I peeked under the covers. I was still clothed so I hadn't got lucky last night. Then the door opened and I realized I may have gotten luckier than I had in a very long time.

"Morning Bridget," Mike, Jr. said softly. The large, steaming mug in his hand was giving off waves of caffeine aroma. He handed it to me and stood rather awkwardly by the bed as I took a deeply satisfying swallow of the hot coffee.

"I guess this is your place?" He nodded. "I suspect either someone called you or you followed me."

He had the grace to look embarrassed. "I followed you. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. They let me in the club and I kept an eye on you. When you offered to kick that guy's ass twice around the parking lot I stepped in and got you to come with me. I put you to bed here because I couldn't figure out where you were staying." His face red he turned away to face the doorway.

I slipped from under the covers. I put my arms around him and stood on my tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck.

"Thank you. For whatever reason or reasons you took care of me, I'm grateful. I haven't found a lot of that over time." I smiled. "A good bit of it has been from your family. Knowing your parents, I give five to one you spent the night on that couch out there." I nodded towards the room I could see through the open door.

Mikie covered my hands with his. "You're welcome. I don't really remember you from when you were her before. But Mom and Dad talked about you. You were, and are, their friend. I guess I had an adolescent crush on who I thought you were from the time I was a teenager."

"And now Mikie?" I stopped myself. "No, not Mikie, Mike. How do you feel now?"

"I'm attracted to you more than I ever thought I could be." He said simply. "Maybe its still a crush, maybe its only infatuation, but Bridget in real life is more amazing and," he swallowed, "and sexy than my fantasies ever suggested."

I let go of him for a moment. I saw his shoulders slump a bit, then straighten back out. After that minute I whispered, "Turn around Mike."

When he did his jaw dropped. I had taken the time to undress. He had come in the room wearing only a pair of cut-off shorts. The most difficult thing in getting them down was the fact that he had a hard-on that I almost couldn't free because it had stretched the material so tight. I stood on my tiptoes again and put my arms around his neck. Then I kissed him.

I kept my arms wrapped around his neck and drew him along with me as I backed towards the bed. When I felt the mattress touch the back of my legs I leaned over and rolled onto the bed, pulling Mikie on top of me. His young, strong body felt incredible on top of mine.

From the trembling that ran all through him I could tell that he desperately wanted to be in me but was trying to let me lead. I squirmed under him and parted my legs. As I continued to kiss him I reached between us. Taking his cock in my hand, I guided it to my wet pussy and wiggled the head into my slit.

"NOW, Mike," I breathed.

With a strangled cry of excitement he slid inside me. My knees bent and my feet planted on the bed, I lifted to him, giving him free access. His first strong thrust buried his cock in me until I felt his groin touch me.

"Oh nooooooo," he moaned. With that he frantically bucked his hips up and down. It took only a half dozen strokes and his cock spurted its pent-up load, filling me with his hot wetness.

He rolled off me and onto his back, one arm thrown across his face as though to hide. I still clung to his neck and the motions of his body pulled me onto my side. I rested my head on his chest and looked up at him.

"Oh Bridget, I'm so sorry."

"What?" I tugged his arm from his face and smiled up at him. "You goose. I knew you wouldn't last very long. You were so excited and if you've done this more than two or three times than I'm a Protestant."

"Actually, Bridget," he stopped and his face turned completely red.

I sat up. "Oh my," was all I could think of to say. I leaned over him and kissed him softly but with all the feeling I could muster. "Somehow, I feel very flattered Mike. Surely you've had offers."

"Yes, well, I wanted it to be something really special." He looked so hang dogged I had to smother a laugh. "I guess I blew it."

"What are you talking about? " I batted my eyes at him and he suddenly grinned. "The night's just begun."

I kissed him again. Then I slipped away from his mouth and began to kiss down his body. I enjoyed the muscles rippling under my lips as I teased his nipples. I worked down over his flat taut stomach to where I could inhale the mingled scents of our lovemaking. My body was between his outstretched legs and I placed a kiss on the end of his manhood.

A deep moan came from Mike and I saw his shaft was already trying to stir. I grinned up at him and then flicked my tongue back and forth over the head of his cock. More stirring rewarded me. I closed my lips over his shaft and slid them slowly down until I felt the swollen head lodge against the top of my throat. His cock was slick with a mixture of his cum and my own juices. It was delicious.

I held him there for a long minute. I began to suck him, gently at first, then increasing the suction of my mouth on him as my head began to rise and fall. I felt him grow incredibly hard. My lips worked up the length of his shaft until I held only the head in my mouth. I tickled the slit with my tongue, making him all but cry out.

In one swift motion I was up and straddling him. I lowered myself until I felt him against my open slit. I simply let my legs go slack and my pussy gobbled his stiff cock up. My weight pushed him deep inside my pussy. My ass landed right down on his legs and I began to rock back and forth.

Mike reached up and took my breasts in his hands. With incredible gentleness he rolled my nipples around and around with the palms of his hands. As I began to bounce faster and faster on his shaft, his hands moved down my sides until they firmly grasped my hips. He began to urge me on, his fingers gripping me and lifting and lowering me.

Suddenly he rolled sideways. Caught by surprise, I gave way. Then I was on my back and he was looming over me. His outstretched arms locked his body over mine and his hips began to piston up and down. Inexperienced though he was, he fell into a rhythm, his cock riding in and out of me. I thrashed under him. His stamina was incredible. He fucked me on and on, his muscular chest heaving and the sweat pouring off him to mingle with mine.

My body tensed and the first shocks ran through me. I called his name. The waves of an orgasm swept over me as he continued to ride me. His head dipped and his mouth locked onto mine. I wanted to scream in sheer pleasure but his mouth smothered my cries. Then he was shuddering with me and my pussy was filled with his cum.

We made love through the next night and day. As had happened before, I felt not the slightest need to feed, nor any desire to take his blood. At nightfall the second day I lay beside him and listened to his steady breathing. Once I knew he was deeply asleep I slid quietly from the bed and dressed. I caught up my belongings and stood there for long minutes looking at Mike's sleeping form.

I turned towards the peacefully slumbering body on the bed. I took two steps toward him, wanting desperately to touch him. But I knew I couldn't. I knew I had to go now. Hadn't I learned anything from Myron? If I was fated to again fall in love with a mortal, this time I could spare him the pain of waiting and loving until the inevitable parting came. And I could also spare myself.

I slipped out of the front door and straight into Pat.

"Leaving?" She looked at me and then at her son's apartment.

"Yes." I searched her face. She didn't seem upset, just a little sad. "Pat, I know why you have loved Mike all these years." I looked back for a moment. "I can't do it. I can't fall in love with Mikie. Even though, oh god, it would be so easy. You both raised a wonderful son. But I can't put either of us through what happens when an immortal and a human fall in love. It hurts too much."

Tears filled Pat's eyes and she kissed me. "I understand. I can't imagine going through a single day without Mike. I pray I'll never have to." She squeezed my hands. "I'll try to explain it to him somehow."

"You won't have to," came a soft male voice.

I stopped dead. My muscles tightened as I fought to keep from turning around.

"I understand, Bridget." Mikie continued. "But somehow I have a bit of faith that its not going to end like this. You go on. I'll be waiting." I heard the door close.

I embraced Pat once more and left, holding the tears back until I was well away. I drove to D.C. and met with Robert and his team. After a week's debriefing he was satisfied he had everything he needed to close the case. 

"What now Bridget? You going back to work for 'Rolling Stone'?"

"I don't know Robert. I'm still too tired to think straight." I hesitated. A thought had been working its way through my mind for days. "I think for starters, I want to go home."

My oldest friend and sometimes lover took my hand. "I think that's a good idea," he said gently. "I'll get you on the next available plane to Ireland."

Two days and an uneventful plane ride later, I left the hotel I was staying at and took my rental car down the winding lanes that led to my old village. All that remained was the church. And the graveyard. I parked the car and tossed the keys through the open window. I stopped by the church for a moment and then headed to the graveyard.




Bridget's Nights Ch. 10



I sat down between the graves of my parents. I touched the two headstones. I had them replaced every 50 years or so, using the proceeds from the trust fund I had set up to build the church. Everyone else had forgotten Michael and Mary O'Brien centuries before. I never would. 

There was a discreet cough. I wasn't surprised. I looked up at the old man, the angel, whatever he was.

"I see you got your cane back," I nodded at it as he limped up to me.

With a grunt he seated himself beside me. His eyes searched mine. "What are you doing here, Bridget?"

"I'm waiting for the sunrise." I answered him. "I'm just tired." I couldn't read his face, but I thought I could see sympathy flash through his eyes and it encouraged me. "I'm tired of watching every one else die around me. I'm tired of living for pleasure. I'm even tired of fighting for Mom and apple pie and my country. I've tried to do my best at some things and just enjoy the rest. Now, that's all I want, to rest."

"What about that young man you just met?"

"What about him? There's no future with him. He'll grow old and die and I'll still be here. Or I would be if I didn't see this sunrise." I pointed my chin towards the eastern sky. "Its beginning to lighten. I'd forgotten how beautiful it is to watch the sun come up."

He took my hand in his. "Well, if you've made up your mind. I'm not allowed to do anything about your situation myself. But perhaps someone else might." He paused. "Close your eyes for a moment." When I looked at him quizzically he added, "Please."

I shrugged and did what he asked. Images came and went. I guess it was my life and unlife flashing before me. So many faces, so many things I should have done, or shouldn't have done. So much time. It all made me dizzy. So dizzy...

Something was brushing over my face. I reached one hand up and tried to swat whatever it was away. As I did, I managed to open my eyes, squinting against the bright glare.

"Miss? Miss are you all right?" A soft Irish voice penetrated my mind.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you," I managed to answer as I pushed myself to my feet. A strong hand took my elbow to help me up, then steadied me. I covered my eyes with one hand against the sunlight on my face.

"Oh, my, GOD!" I all but screamed. It was daylight. I was standing with the full rays of the sun beating down on me. I frantically pressed my fingertips against my neck. I had a pulse! I was ALIVE!

My knees gave way and I was sitting down on the green sod again. 

"Are you sure you're alright Miss?"

I looked at the young man. He looked a bit like Seamus. Then another face came into my mind and I scrambled back to my feet. "I'm wonderful. Thank you so very much for your concern. But right now," I scanned the area and spotted my car parked by the church. "Right now I have to get back to America. Someone's waiting for me."

(The End)

***********************************************

(Epilogue)

Father John MacNeill wandered from the parsonage to the church. As he came in, he noticed an unfamiliar woman standing in the aisle. She was slight, with red hair and, he was willing to bet, green eyes.

"Good Day, Father," she greeted him. More than one accent seemed to float through her voice, but Father John could detect the faintest hint of an Irish one buried amongst them. "What an unusual place for a church. There's no village here."

"Ah, but there was one at one time. Would you like to hear the story?"

"Please."

Father John launched into the tale about a long ago village that had seen the daughter of the leading family somehow come back to grisly life after her murder. The terrifying apparition had been driven from the village but was rumored to reappear from time to time. The family had begun the building of the church, but it had stopped when the majority of the family died over the years and the last ones moved away.

"Amazingly though, about two hundred years ago, the local bishop received a large grant of money. Much was to be used for charity, but a sum was specified to complete this church and maintain it and this graveyard. For example the headstones of the family are replaced when they break or become disfigured."

He smiled. "Of course the story itself of the O'Brien maid is nothing but an old legend. Still, it is interesting. I often wonder what could have been behind it, and whatever happened to the woman, if she did indeed exist.

The woman looked at him "There's more to the story than what you know Father. Would you like to hear the rest of it?" Her eyes burned into his for a moment.

He stammered. "More? There's more?"

"Oh yes." The woman's expression softened. "Bridget was her name. Did you know that?" At the shake of his head she went on. "She wandered far from here. She traveled through Europe and even to Asia and Africa. She went to the New World. But she was always driven to return here, in hopes of finding what she had lost."

"She tried to somehow find atonement, as though she had done something terribly wrong that caused what happened to her. She finally realized that she hadn't. She grew. She managed to forgive her family. No matter how much it hurt when they rejected her, she came to understand it was a natural fear."

The woman walked back and forth. Father John's mouth grew dry as he realized she was avoiding the sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows. He inched back towards the altar.

"She finally accepted that she was what she was, but that at the same time she could be a good person. She worked for good although she was by no means any kind of saint. Then," the woman turned to face him again. A smile crossed her face as she saw he had moved away from her. "Then she had an opportunity the likes of which she never expected. She was brought into play in the struggle between good and evil. She triumphed in the small part she was allotted."

The woman stopped and sat down in the last pew. "She came back to Ireland, as she had before, tired and weary of heart. She met the one who had aided her last fight. Who he is, what he is named, is not important. Suffice it to say that she was granted her heart's desire. It may have been for her fight. It may have been for nothing she did, simply a gift of the infinite mercy from above." 

Father John, drawn in spite of himself, came to her. She looked at him. "Her heart beat again. More than that," she stood and he saw tears in her eyes. "She was allowed to find what she had lost before." Merry laughter floated through the doorway. A tall man strode through the door with three tumbling young children behind him. He stood in the square of bright sunlight and she went to him.

"Father John has been telling me the story of how this chapel came to be." The man's arm circled the woman's shoulders and she leaned against him. "Father, this is my husband, Michael Gibson, Jr. and our children, Michael, Linda, and Mary."

"Pleased to meet you Father," the man acknowledged in the soft voice of the American South. He turned his attention to the woman gathered in the circle of his arm. "This is as beautiful as you said it was. I'm glad we came, Bridget."

She stood on her tiptoes and kissed him on the cheek. She looked again around the chapel. "Might I be asking when Mass will be, Father?"

Father John smiled in understanding. "If you would like, right now." With the family following behind, he walked to the front of the little church and began.