Part 02 - In The Still of the Night

Los Angeles, California USA

14 June 1956

Jesus, is there some kind of national uniform or something?

The drive-in restaurant looked like any other drive-in restaurant that I had come across on my drive from Detroit. It looked like a direct replica of one of them, though the exact one escaped me.

Is it the one in Toledo? I asked myself. Nah, the waitresses at that one weren’t wearing little hats like this place. How about St Louis? Nope… those waitresses weren’t on roller skates. Dallas? No, the girls working there wore glittery cowboy hats.

I wracked my brain while I should have been looking at the menu. Not only was I hungry after a long drive, but spots like that one were great places to start my search.

“What can I get you, Miss?” The waitress’ accent told me that, like so many others in L.A., she wasn’t a native.

"Uh," I said, scanning the menu displayed on big boards on the side of the drive-in's building, "I'll have a cheeseburger, fries, and a chocolate shake." I hadn't actually found what those items were called on the menu, I just knew that I hadn't found a drive-in that didn’t have those items yet on my journeys thus far.

“Okay, a cow tipper, fries, and a chocolate super sipper,” she rattled off as she scribbled my order down. “I’ll have that right out for you.” She gave me a wink and a smile as she shimmied away, fighting both the skates she wore as well as a stupidly tight skirt.

Was she flirting with me? I wondered, briefly admiring her well-rounded bottom as she walked away. It’d be nice to find a willing human woman for a change, after my recent lost year with Angelique.

1955 had been a blur, filled with productive days and sweaty nights, Angelique and I celebrating the elimination of another unrepentant human monster completely naked on most occasions. Vincent had been spending time with another, even more ancient vampire, trying to speed up his ability to walk in daylight without spontaneously smoking in the sun. That left it to me to provide companionship to what was probably the sexiest creature I had ever met.

Well, one of the sexiest, anyway. I had another, however unlikely, individual in mind for the top spot, but I shook the thought away. You haven’t seen her in over a decade, and besides you never actually slept with her so how do you know that she’s sexier than Angelique? I blabbered to myself. Angelique knew ways to pleasure a woman that were literally unheard of, so being able to excite me more than Angelique with a thought was a mean feat for anyone, especially someone who had never stimulated more than my brain.

Forget about her I admonished myself. You don’t even know if she’s still alive!

Besides, now that I was in LA I knew that I was more likely to find women who shared my ‘peculiar tastes’… as I called my attraction to my own gender… than I had in states like Texas or Nevada. While I knew that women such as myself probably existed in all places, as they had in all cultures during my unnaturally long life, I also knew that social convention kept such ideas far from the forefront of most women’s minds. Places where artists gathered… like the various film, TV, and music dream-lands known as the City of Angels… were more likely to have women who looked at social conventions and dared to ask ‘why?’.

Besides, pleasuring a woman who can actually get tired is sure to be less exhausting than a night with a vampire, who never sleeps! I added internally.

I decided that I was going to give the waitress my best smile and flash my baby blues at her. If there’s a sapphic sister somewhere in her, those usually do the trick!

I returned my attention to the reason I was in town. I opened the briefcase that traveled in the passenger seat next to me and pulled out a well-worn notebook. I thumbed through pages filled with sketches of arcane symbols and hastily scribbled text in multiple languages until I got to my investigation notes.

I bought this notebook fifty years ago I thought, and my notes on actual quests… my entire purpose in my unnaturally long life… take up about twenty percent of it!

It wasn’t that I was shirking my duties. I never took more than a year or two off after a major hunt. Since I usually spent my time in between quests researching strange, new-to-me magicks, I never really stopped working. There were a few, brief exceptions… I had shacked up with a few, precious loves over the centuries for a time here and there, and those times were spent living and loving and thinking of my mission as little as possible.

Those times always had to end, though. After all, I am eternal and they are not. When they began to notice that they were aging and I wasn’t, I knew it was time to go.

What was it Angelique said? I mused. She said that my times spent in a normal life served to remind me of why I did what I did… what I was fighting for.

So, in the end, even my brief times of normalcy served my greater mission and thus were a form of work. Great.

The gang that I was searching for this time was the kind of scum that I loved taking down. They specialized in bringing underage girls into the country, most often from Indochina. Once here they would be put to work, either in sweatshop factories or, more often, in brothels. I have nothing against adult, willing women choosing to work in the sex trade, I thought, but these girls are neither. I knew that I would relish seeing the shock on their faces when they realized that it was a woman who was going to kill them, as well as seeing the light fade from their eyes when I did so.

Such a job would leave me anxious for female company as none else could do, thus the importance of my flirting abilities.

I studied my notes carefully. After breaking up seven brothels across the country, all of which got underage girls from the gang I was hunting, I had finally scored big: the name of the front company that the gang did what little legitimate business that they did under. It was called ‘The Trump Card Modeling Agency’, and it was located in LA.

The phone book was a bust, I thought, they must have moved in the past year. Hell, they probably move every year… a sure sign of an upstanding business I mused sarcastically.

The waitress soon returned with my food, and I took the opportunity to ask a few questions.

“So, uh,” I started, eyeing her name tag, “Betty.” I flashed the aforementioned smile and eyes at her.

“Yes?” she replied with a smile.

Bingo! I thought. She’s definitely interested… that was more than a polite smile! I quickly got my mind in gear and out of the gutter… for now.

“Would you happen to know a joint called ‘Trump Card Modeling Agency’?” I asked her, my pencil at the ready.

“Trump Card?” she replied, shaking her head. “You don’t want to get messed up with them, honey.” She hung the tray with my food on my partially raised window. “Seriously, if you want some work, go see Virginia at the Housley Agency. They’re really on the level, no funny business.”

“I’m… not a model.” I said, smiling. “I’m a reporter. I’m doing a story exposing sleazy modeling scams, so I definitely want to look up Trump Card.”

I had taken on many disguises over the years, but posing as a reporter was my favorite by far! It sure beat ‘rich widow’ or ‘unmarried spinster’, my two easiest faces to present to the world. I could have entered into convenient marriages with willing men to make things easier, but I would rather pass as a homeless junkie before I’d lay with any man.

Things had opened up over the past couple of decades, however. While it still marked me as ‘odd’ or ‘suspicious’ to some, being a single woman with a job wasn’t so unheard of as to act as a hindrance to my quest. I looked young enough for many to write off my professional aspirations as youthful ignorance. She'll meet a nice fella and settle down someday they’d say, and I was content to let them have their delusions. It served my purpose.

“A reporter?” Betty said, her eyes wide. “Wow, that’s impressive. Who do you write for?”

“The Associated Press.” I replied. I wasn’t lying… I had a Were-cat friend who worked there, and he’d gotten me on the payroll. I mainly did field research for their established reporters, but I never told most people that part.

“And you wanna take Trump Card down?” she asked.

“That’s the idea.” I smiled again, and she smiled back. “Maybe we could talk about it more after you get off work?”

She smiled shyly. “I’m going to see my Mom tonight.” she said apologetically. “She’s in a nursing home, and tonight’s the only night I get off early enough to go see her. But I’m free tomorrow night.”

“Fantastic.” I said, smiling back.

She jotted a number down on my check. “That’s my phone number. Call me tomorrow.”

“I will.” I tore the number off of the bottom and put it into my pocket. “But I’m gonna need something to pass the time until then. Do you know where they’re located?”

“They set up somewhere by the docks three months ago, that’s all I got on that.” Betty shrugged.

“I’ll go for a little walk tomorrow, then.” I said.

“Yeah, tomorrow.” Betty looked concerned. “Don’t go down by the docks at night, it’s nowhere for a lady.”

“Of course.”

* * *

So, what I really meant was ‘Of course I’m going there at night. I have centuries of bad decisions to add this one to.’

I allowed myself a chuckle as I made my way down the deserted roads and pathways of the docks. I knew that there was sure to be somebody still at work in the buildings and holding warehouses that dotted the immediate landscape… no operation this big was ever entirely deserted… but I was confident that I would be able to find the information I needed to hunt the bastards down who ran Trump-Card and make them pay without too much interference.

In addition to my list of bad decisions, I also have a (much longer) list of glaringly inaccurate statements I have made or thought. That last one was quickly added to it when I realized that I wasn’t alone.

I stopped in a pool of shadow between streetlights and listened. Though I could hear no sign of the presence, I knew it was there. Centuries of wielding magickal powers had made me sensitive to the smallest change in the energy of a place, and I could feel that something had changed. Something… supernatural.

I pulled my go-to magickal weapon… a silver dagger covered in mystic symbols and sigils… from my shoulder bag and brandished it before me.

"Okay," I said forcefully, turning slowly, "I don't know who or what you are, but you either need to leave or show yourself." I paused, taking a deep breath. "I have no desire to fight you tonight… my quarrel is with humans.”

“It is you who needs to leave.” The voice seemed to come from everywhere. “I am here to serve out justice, and you are not guilty of the crime being punished here tonight.”

I know that voice! I thought, furiously searching my memory. I mean, it's been enhanced by magick, but at its core it's…

“Wait,” I said, lowering my dagger, “Stevie?”

“Sarah?” The voice was still enhanced, but the tone changed. “Sarah, is that you?”

Directly across from me, a familiar face emerged from the shadows. While she wore a modest blue dress that any 50’s housewife might own, it was still the same face, same wire-rimmed glasses, same long blonde hair…

The same jaw-dropping vision of beauty I met in Chicago thirty-five years ago.

I still couldn’t believe that I was crushing on a vampire! I mean, I had slept with vampires before, but this was more than just lust. Still, I couldn’t stop a smile from appearing on my face as she walked over and stood in front of me.

“So," I began, "What's a nice bloodsucker like you doing in a sleazy place like this?" I cringed at my clumsy wordplay, but Stevie didn't seem to mind.

“Probably the same thing as you,” she replied, “hunting lowlifes.”

“Trump-card Modeling Agency?” I asked, already guessing the answer.

Stevie's jaw dropped and her head tilted in disbelief. "You have got to be kidding me!”

“Not kidding in the slightest.”

“You too?”

“Who would have thought?”

We both had to laugh. While I wasn’t shocked to run into the crusading vampire again… Angelique and I had crossed paths on numerous occasions, hunting the same human monster… I was surprised to run into her that night. Surprised and delighted, probably more than I should have.

“So you’re looking good.” I said with too much emphasis. “I mean,” I stammered, trying desperately to recover and failing miserably, “Your get-up is more current than the last time we met.”

“Looking like an everyday housewife is useful.” she replied with a shrug. “If anyone asks questions, then I just say that my car has broken down and that I’m looking for a telephone.” She took a second to give me a quick once-over. “I have to say, what you’re wearing now is far more flattering than the boy’s clothes you had on last time.”

I was wearing a simple blue blouse and knee-length skirt, but all I could think was did she just check out my breasts? I think she checked out my breasts! I tried to not let my thoughts color my words as I answered her. “I’m posing as a lady reporter these days. That also explains a lot.”

“I’ll bet.” She smiled, and I melted a little bit more inside.

Get it together, Sarah! I admonished myself. You still have human slime to track down. You can fantasize about the undead June Cleaver here when your work is done!

“Have you found where they’re at down here yet?” I asked.

“Yeah, they’re right down that alley.” she said with a jerk of her head behind her. “I was about to break in when I felt you approaching.”

“Do you want to double-team them?” I said.

“Why,” she smiled, “I would be delighted!”

We started walking… slowly, probably slower than we should have… and kept up the conversation as we melted into the shadows.

“One thing you need to explain to me,” she said as we walked, “is how we met thirty-five years ago yet you don’t look like you’ve aged a year. Now I have an excuse,” she said, pointing to herself, “I’m a vampire. And you’re… ?”

“It’s complicated.” I said, casting my gaze down for a minute.

“So is learning to speak Japanese, but I managed.” Stevie’s matter-of-fact tone surprised me. It took me almost a century to master Chinese, I thought, and I lived there with Angelique for a decade about three hundred years ago, and she doesn’t strike me as that ancient!

“I don’t think we have enough time to go into it here. Honestly.” I raised my hands to deflect the retort I was sure to come. “It’s an intricate, very personal story… I want to do it justice. Just suffice it to say that I did a spell that went sideways. It gave me tremendous power but it also cursed me with immortality.”

“As a human.” It was a statement, not a question. One I couldn’t challenge.

“As a human.” I confirmed.

“Curious." She lifted her eyebrows but added a grin. "I accept your explanation… for now. But know this… “ She trailed off, her finger wagging playfully towards me.

“Know what?” My own grin returned.

“I will get this very personal story out of you someday.” she said. “Even if I have to seduce you and… “ She looked me up and down again, this time making no effort to hide her appraisal of my body. “… convince you to open up to me.” Her shy smile turned to a lusty grin, and I swallowed hard.

“It’s uh… a date.” I stammered as she walked slightly ahead of me. Smooth, Sarah, really smooth!

Stevie stopped in front of a door labeled “Trumpcard Modeling Agency” in plain black lettering.

“Ready?” she asked, looking back at me.

I walked up to the door and passed my hand over the lock. It snapped back with a satisfying click and I gently opened the door.

“Showtime!” I said, looking at her with a grin.

Stevie shrugged. “I was going to rip the doorknob off, but this works too.”

We made our way into the building, passing through the front reception area and into the hallway beyond. We walked to the first door we came across and I opened it as I had the front.

The room within was lined with filing cabinets, a lone wooden table with a single chair in the center.

“Bingo!” I said, rubbing my hands together.

“Do you think that these are all of their records?” Stevie asked, walking by the filing cabinets and running her hand along the top.

“I'm sure of it." I replied. "They want to keep things upfront here. That way, whatever poor gal they're employing as a secretary never has to go farther back than this room to file her paperwork."

“Because if she goes too far back, she might hear what’s happening to the poor girls they kidnap.” Stevie shook her head. “Lord in heaven, save us.”

“He has nothing to do with this.” I said, my voice cold. “Hail Morrigan, Goddess of my quest!”

We found what we were looking for: a locked cabinet, one that probably only the headmen in the gang possessed a key for. I opened it as easily as I had opened the doors, and we started going through its contents.

“Here’s a list of employees.” I said, holding it up to study.

“You can see in this low of light?” Stevie said. “I can, but again… vampire.”

“It’s a basic spell.” I shrugged and then returned to studying the list. “Looks like there’s four muscle guys, two organizers, one accounting firm, and two owners: Eric and Richard Head.”

“Old Dick has an unfortunate name.” Stevie said, grinning.

“You ain’t kidding!” I said, returning her grin. “We should be able to visit some of these guys tonight.”

“Yeah, and soon.” Stevie said, picking up another paper from the cabinet. “They’re bringing in a dozen new girls… tonight.”

She held the paper up and I snatched it out of her hand, scanning it quickly. “You’re right.” I said, nodding. I looked up where a clock hung on the wall. “It’s eleven now, and they’re due here at midnight.” I walked over to the chair and sat down. “I guess we wait… take them all down at once.”

Stevie walked over and hopped up on the table, sitting cross-legged. “Sounds like a plan!”

“What should we talk about?” I asked. I really wanted to make out with her in a sleazy motel somewhere, but I tried to stay focused.

“How about that complicated, personal story of yours?” she replied.

Well, that didn’t last! I thought. Mind right down into the gutter! “What if I wanted you to convince me?” I tried to give her my sexiest smile.

“I’m sure I have a lot of stories for me to, uh… “ She paused, looking me over again. “Encourage you to share.” She smiled back, and my body ached with need.

Down Sarah! I commanded myself. Focus on the story! It’ll kill your anxiousness!

“It started in the year of our lord Fifteen hundred and four, in Bristol, England.” I started, allowing just a bit of my old accent to come out. “I was the oldest of nine children, all daughters. My father owned one of the earliest printing press businesses in the region."

“Impressive.” Stevie commented.

“It is impressive for a man who taught himself to read." I said, nodding. "Anyway, that was during the time when England kept switching between being Catholic and Protestant. We were a Protestant family ourselves but stayed out of politics. We printed books for both sides."

“That’s amazingly egalitarian for the era.” Stevie said.

“Tell that to the mob who came for us in the middle of the night.” I deadpanned.

“Oh my Lord!!” Stevie said, her hand covering her mouth. “What happened?”

“They were a pro-Catholic group called ‘The Sons of the Blessed Virgin’.” I explained, my voice cold and almost monotone. “They were upset that we printed a Protestant pamphlet about avoiding idolatry. Seems like they took it as an attack on their veneration of the Virgin Mary.”

“But it was nothing of the sort?” Stevie guessed. She was wrong.

“Oh, it was entirely their intention.” I answered. “Remember, both sides can be real dicks! Well, they killed my mother and father, burned our shop down… which included our home since we lived upstairs… and left me and my sisters to starve.”

“How old were you?” she asked.

“The age you see me here: nineteen.” I said. “My youngest sister was two at the time. We wound up squatting in an abandoned barn in the countryside, stealing from fields and garbage to survive.”

“If I could go back in time,” Stevie said, her teeth clenched and her fangs showing, “I would make them all pay!”

“Oh, believe me, they paid!” I said, nodding. “But back to the story.”

“My apologies.” Stevie said, but I wove her apologies away.

“So, I’m trying to figure out what I’m gonna do, what with five kids, aged two to seventeen, no money, no way to make money… we were pretty much screwed.” I flipped a middle finger towards life. “So I looked through the one thing that I had managed to save before the shop was burned, and that was my Grandmother’s diary. I looked through it and found out about the turners.”

“Turners?” Stevie asked. “Never heard of them.”

“They’re a legendary race of magickal beings, very powerful, who wield their power by granting wishes.” I explained.

“Like the genie in ‘1001 Nights’?” Stevie looked to be ready to jump off the table in excitement.

“Kind of.” I replied. “Both Djinn and Leprechauns are rumored to be based on them. Anyway, I managed to summon one, and made my wish.”

“Which was?” she asked.

I took a big breath. “I asked for the power and ability to ‘right the wrongs around me’.”

The vampire scrunched her nose. “From what I know about magick, that was not good wording!”

“You ain’t kidding, buster!” I gave a sarcastic chuckle. “Anyway, I got my revenge on the mob that took everything away, and I used what I stole from them… and their church… to set my sisters up for life. And because of my startling lack of specificity, I am now condemned to walk the earth until all power imbalances are resolved… for all mankind.”

“Wow!” Stevie sighed. “Talk about a harsher fate than vampiric immortality!”

“And that’s why I don’t age.” I said. “From what I‘ve seen from humanity over the centuries, I’ll probably still be working on my mission until judgment day, whatever form that takes.”

“Oh!” Stevie exclaimed, reaching out to trace her fingers along my cheek. “How you have suffered!”

Her fingers were cool, but left trails of heat behind on my skin. I could feel energy passing between us, crackling like lightning in a summer storm.

I didn’t have a chance to answer before we felt it: a cloud of pain and misery coming our way.

“They’re coming early.” I said.

“So typical of men!” Stevie grunted, then grinned and gave me a wink. I winked in return.

I used my second sight to see what was happening outside of the records room while Stevie and I melted into the shadows. I could see the front door as if I were standing in front of it.

“The door’s opening now.” I said, my voice below a whisper. I knew that Stevie’s vampire hearing would have no problem hearing what I said.

I watched the front door to the building open, revealing a cruel-looking man in a polo shirt and dark slacks. His close-cropped hair looked transparent in the light from the streetlights behind him, and he scanned the room as he entered.

“Muscle guy’s in first.” I whispered. “Organizer number one’s behind him.” I continued as the group filed in.

What I saw next made my blood run cold but my temper to start heating up. A line of girls… children, no older than twelve… filed in behind the men. They looked to be Chinese, dressed in filthy rags and looking like they hadn’t had a decent meal since they sailed. I counted twelve in all, and they gathered in the front reception area as the rest of the men came in behind them. It looked like every one of the place’s employees… except for the accountant… was taking part in the ‘delivery’.

Of course everyone’s here I thought. One muscle guy in front, one in the back, and two on either side… all the better to corral the girls and keep any from running. The organizers and owners are there to keep an eye on everything, as well as extra hands.

"Everyone's here." My ghost of a whisper still sounded cold despite its low volume. "Four muscle goons, two managers, and a couple of weasels in cheap suits… they must be the owners."

I wanted Eric and Richard Head’s heads on a platter more than any of them. Now that I saw them… Eric, with his blonde hair and toothy sneer… and Dickie, dark-haired and looking like he needed to take a dump… I decided to skip the platter and chuck their heads into the ocean instead.

“Okay men,” one of the managers announced gruffly, “let’s get these broads downstairs and get ‘em prepped for delivery.”

The men in the room got the same sick grin on their faces, and I wanted to throw up. I knew what ‘prepping’ the girls meant.

“In case you’re wondering,” I whispered to Stevie, “they’re going to wash the girls and put them in new clothes. Oh, and they’re going to rape them while they do it.”

A low growl escaped Stevie’s lips, and I smiled for the first time since the goon squad showed up. They are not going to have a good time!

“Ready to end this?” I asked Stevie, and she reached out to squeeze my hand in response.

Showtime!

The door in the hallway beyond shattered as Stevie crashed through it. I was right behind, casting a sealing spell on the room and hallway. We wouldn’t want anyone to miss the fun! I thought.

“What the fuck?!?” shouted Eric.

The lead muscle goon, on the other hand, didn’t waste time shouting. He pulled a gun and opened fire in our direction. Stevie darted in front of me, allowing the bullets to slam into her chest. She was unfazed by them, the wounds closing as soon as they happened, as she slowly advanced on the lead goon.

“Ouch. Oh. Owie. Darn.” Stevie deadpanned as he fired his gun into her. It clicked empty, and she seized his gun hand, twisting it and hauling him up in the air. A sharp crack could be heard, signaling that the wrist was broken… the very one the goon was dangling from. His cries of pain snapped the others from their initial shock. Guns were drawn by everyone but the owners, who hid behind two of their armed goons.

“What the fuck is that?!?” Eric cried, pointing at Stevie. His question went unanswered as one of the managers stepped forward, gun steady.

“Put the guy down or we open fire!” he shouted.

“You know,” I said, unable to hide my grin, “if she can take six slugs in the chest and not even slow down, what makes you think that shooting her more is going to have any effect?”

“You’re right.” the manager guy said. He turned his gun towards me. “Put him down or I shoot your friend.”

Stevie looked concerned for a moment, but I waved her off. “You know, I really wouldn’t suggest that.” I said to the manager guy.

He responded by pulling the trigger.

Pow! Pow! Pow! The gunshots echoed off of the walls of the small room, sounding more like cannon fire than a handgun. The manager guy lowered his gun, his jaw hanging open.

“No fucking way.” he said, eyes wide.

The three bullets hung in the air in front of me, spinning like they were cruising along their intended path yet hovering in place. I raised my hand and smiled.

“My turn.” I said, and flicked the fingers of my raised hand.

The three bullets flew off in different directions, piercing the skulls of the three remaining armed goons and sending their lifeless bodies crashing to the floor with a thud.

Stevie locked her mouth onto the neck of the goon she held, piercing his artery and drinking deeply. He struggled, but to no effect, and soon was tossed to the floor dead.

“Now listen,” Richard said, holding his hands up, “I’m sure we can come to some kind of agreement here, let’s just… “

I was in no mood to hear him try to buy his survival. I gathered energy in my hands, formed it into a sharp spike, and projected it towards his mouth. It pierced him straight through, coming out of the back of his head. I pulled the energy back and his body slumped to the floor, his eyes forever frozen in shock. On his way down, he bumped a radio and ‘In The Still of the Night’ by the Five Satins started filling the room with an eerie wistfulness as the rest of it played out.

The two remaining managers and Eric, the surviving Head brother, then tried desperately to run. The windows and doors were all locked, however, and the glass couldn’t be broken, not even when one of the managers tried to shoot it. My sealing spell had them trapped.

Stevie turned and nodded towards the girls, who were crying in fear at what was going on around them. I quickly cast a shielding spell, making it impossible to continue to see what was happening.

“Okay girls,” I said in Mandarin, “Let’s go back here… we’re going to try and get you home.” I herded them from the room and down the hall. I could still hear what was going on, and the sound of screams and ripping flesh lasted an incredibly short time before all fell silent.

* * *

A couple of hours later I was sitting in my car with Stevie, talking about the night's events. She was wearing a somewhat more stylish dress, a loaner from my stuff, since what she was wearing before had been air-conditioned by bullet holes.

“So what happens to the children now?” Stevie asked.

“Sister Theresa and the order are going to try and get them back home.” I replied. I had made a quick call to a friend after I had gotten the girls calmed down, and she had the kinds of connections needed to try to return the kidnapped children to their families. Those who didn’t have family were to be raised by the order to adulthood, and then re-integrated into society.

“It’s odd that you’re friends with a Catholic order.” Stevie said.

“They’re… not Catholic nuns.” I said with a grin. “But they’re trustworthy.”

“Then why did they look like Catholic nuns?”

“It’s a long story.”

“That happens with you a lot.”

“Well, when you’ve been alive almost five hundred years, things get complicated.”

“I’ll bet.”

We fell silent for a moment, neither of us knowing what to say. Finally, I turned to look at her.

“So,” I said softly, “what do you want to do now?”

“There’s only one thing I can think of.” Stevie replied, leaning in.

Our lips met, and I felt like my soul was on fire. They were flames of passion, however, so the burn felt sweet and exhilarating. I leaned into the kiss, and Stevie put her hand on the back of my head as it grew hotter by the minute. I responded by probing her mouth with my tongue, bringing a deep moan from deep within her body.

The kiss seemed to last an eternity, yet it was over far too soon. We broke the kiss but stayed close, our foreheads touching as I gasped for breath.

“I like the way you think.” I said, grinning.

“I seem to remember promising you some, uh, convincing a little while ago.” Stevie replied, matching my grin. “It seems like you have a lot of long stories for me to… tease out of you.”

The lust I heard through her grin made me swallow hard. “Well then, let’s go back to my place.” I said.

I turned the key in the ignition and gunned the engine to life. Sarah, I thought, what the hell are you getting into?