My Girlfriend is a Vampire Ch. 02

My brain filled with rage and my body throbbed with a riotous orchestra of pain. I wanted to kill the bitch who shot me, however I needed to get the damn spear out of my leg first. Until then, the pain was going to leave me damn near incapacitated.

I dropped the sword and grabbed one end of the stainless-steel projectile with both hands. I tried to yank the thing all the way out, however it was more difficult than I had thought it would be.

"Aaaaaaaaarrghhhhhhhh," I screamed as I pulled the thing out, causing the pain and the bleeding to become much worse in the process.

"Don't bother," the bird-woman said as I painfully tore the intrusive piece of metal out of my leg, "You're not going to be alive long enough for it to matter."

I looked up from my wounded leg and saw what she meant.

Apparently, she had rapidly loaded another spear into her projectile weapon, and it was now pointing at my head. If she squeezed the trigger, the spear would probably sink into my skull and shred my brain. I was strongly opposed to that happening, however, the enraged bird-woman didn't ask me for my opinion.

"Interloper," the bird woman spat as she glared at me, "this is where it ends." And as if to emphasize the point, a loud and ominous thunderclap sounded in the distance.

I wasn't quick enough to dodge her attack, not with her standing less than twelve feet away. And I didn't think there was any way for me to survive a direct shot to the skull with a mini-spear. I had a crazy hope that the distant thunderstorm would be attracted to her metal spear-gun and that it would be struck by lightning.

Yeah, that was a crazy hope.

"You killed my sisters," the bird-woman accused, "however, I'm more clever and cunning than they were. I was careful enough to plan ahead for every- "

That's as far as she got before she was run over by a battered Toyota pickup truck.

I was so focused on the speargun that I didn't even notice the pickup truck heading towards her. Of course, she was so focused she didn't notice the pickup truck either. It just accelerated swiftly and silently, and the front end of the truck smashed into her, driving her to the ground and breaking a multitude of bones in the process.

I couldn't believe my good luck. I had time to breathe a powerful sigh of relief and then the truck shifted into reverse and backed over the bird-lady's broken body.

There was a grinding of gears and then the truck drove forward, and I could hear the crunching sound of more bones breaking as the truck ran over the bird-woman again.

At that point, I was pretty certain that running over the bird-woman was no accident.

With all three bird-women dead, I felt certain that the danger over. I stood up and then the wings retracted into my upper-back. I didn't make a conscious decision for the wings to disappear like that. They seemed to have a mind of their own and they just disappeared when it was clear the danger was over.

"Hey," shouted a female voice from the driver's seat of the pickup truck, "Is she dead?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out that the occupant of the pickup truck was referring to the bird-creature that she had just run over. A quick examination revealed that the bird-woman's head was twisted at a very unnatural angle. I took that to mean that her neck was broken. Closer examination also revealed that she wasn't breathing and that there was a large pool of blood underneath her body.

"Looks dead to me," I responded.

I staggered over and got close enough to get a good look at the woman behind the wheel of the truck. She looked old enough to drive, but not old enough to drink yet. She had haunted, wary eyes and long hair that was too red to be natural. She was also skinny, filthy, trembling and tensed as if she was about to bolt and jump into the nearest hidey-hole.

I can't say as I blamed her. She was obviously the woman from underneath the car who had asked for my help.

"I saw what you did to those harpies," the overwrought woman said, "Are you some sort of warrior-angel or something?"

My first thought was that warrior angel sounded like a classification that might be used in some low-budget science fiction movie, however, I also realized that there was no easy way to classify what I really was, and I didn't really want to try and explain my true nature to someone I just met anyway.

So, I ended up replying, "Yeah, something like that."

"My name's Kelsey," the frightened woman said, introducing herself, "You need me to take you to a hospital?"

I staggered over to the truck and realized that all things considered, I felt pretty good. I was covered in blood, I had been stabbed and I had been shot, however, I recovered from all of that within a matter of seconds.

"My name's Hannah," I responded, "and I'm pretty resilient. I think I'll be okay without the hospital."

Just then the rain started to come down. It was just a little sprinkle at first, but within seconds it went from a light sprinkle to a heavy downpour.

"Get in," Kelsey shouted, "You just saved my life! It would be rude if I let you get soaked!"

My own car was parked nearby, but I didn't argue. I had a multitude of questions for Kelsey and if I were a passenger in her truck, it would make asking them convenient and easy.

Kelsey drove forward, and we left three dead bodies behind us in the parking lot. I didn't envy the police who found the bodies and were forced to decide what to do with them. Those creatures were so obviously not human, but it's not like the police could just ignore their corpses and pretend they didn't exist.

"Is there a place we can go," Kelsey asked, "someplace relatively safe?"

I decided to take Kelsey to my place. Both my church and my home were warded, and my wards would likely keep out anything hostile.

There were other gods in my pantheon who could work magic like a potter works clay; however, I was never very talented mystically. I mastered a few spells and rituals; however, I never reached the level of mastery of my peers.

Wards for instance, other members of my pantheon could put up powerful wards that would deal out lethal damage to anyone foolhardy enough to set foot in one of their fortresses, palaces or places of solitude.

The most I ever managed was a ward that would encourage potential intruders to go elsewhere.

I've used this type of ward for centuries. I don't have to sink a lot of power into it, and it's done an excellent job of keeping soldiers, mercenaries, inquisitors, slave-hunters and other hostile beings away from my door.

If a being with hostile intentions gets within fifty feet of my wards, they find themselves becoming easily distracted and confused. Their attention tends to get drawn away from my habitat. If they get within ten feet of my wards, they find themselves overcome with a feeling of unease and trepidation. These magical influences have spared hundreds of my homes from violent incursions in hundreds of cities.

And this ward has no effect on non-hostile beings, so I've never had to worry about hurting my friends or allies.

I told Kelsey to take us to my home, and I started to give her directions, so she could get us there.

"So, who the hell were those hawk-women?" I asked Kelsey, referring to the bird creatures that had almost killed me.

"Ordo sicariorum," Kelsey explained, "Some sort of ancient secret order of assassins. My mother knew they were coming for me and gave me a warning like minutes before they would've caught me. That was three days ago. I packed a bag, got in my truck and I've been running from them ever since."

"Ordo sicariorum," I said, repeating back the name. I'd heard of them of course. They've been around for centuries. They're basically killers for hire, however, they don't typically go after humans. They usually go after much bigger targets, trolls, vampires, werewolves and warlocks.

In the 1940's they nearly got wiped off the face of the map. They had taken a number of very dangerous contracts and a huge number of their operatives got killed. I assumed they might get more cautious after that but going after humans? That just didn't sound right.

I didn't mention any of this out loud, and instead asked, "How did your mother know that you were about to be attacked?"

"She's kinda psychic," Kelsey replied as she drove, "Sometimes she knows things are going to happen before they happen."

"She's precognitive?" I asked.

Kelsey glanced at me, rolled her eyes and said, "Yeah, I guess that's what you call it."

"Well, that's awesome," I said, "Did she buy stock in Pfizer before they put Viagra on the market? If I had known how much their stock price was going to go up, I would have sunk a ton of cash into Pfizer."

"It doesn't work like that," Kelsey said, "Her visions usually only give her a heads up about stuff that's going to happen in the next ten minutes or so. She's never been able to see far enough ahead to play the stock market."

"Oh," I said. Precognition sounded like a great ability at first, but once Kelsey told me how limited her mother's ability was, it put a damper on my enthusiasm. Seeing only a few minutes into the future wouldn't give anybody a huge advantage.

"Well, at least she was able to give you a warning that you were about to be attacked," I said.

"Just barely," Kelsey agreed.

"When we get to my place, you can call your mom and let her know that you're safe," I said, "If you've been on the run for three days, she's probably worried sick about you."

I have a single level home out behind my church. I had Kelsey park her truck in my garage and brought her inside the house.

"Can I use your shower before I call my mom?" Kelsey asked, "I've haven't had a shower in three days, and I'm kind of a mess. I'm kinda grossing myself out right now."

I directed Kelsey to my bathroom and showed her where to find towels, shampoo and bodywash and gave her some privacy.

After I got Kelsey settled in the shower I called Lara, hoping to pump her for information and advice. Lara dealt with supernatural beings all the time. She was near immortal and had a network of spies, specialists and corrupt government officials at her beck and call. If there was anybody in Chicago that could give me useful information on the Ordo sicariorum, it would be Lara.

When I called her number, I got a household functionary who informed me that Lara was not available, but if I left my name and phone number, she would call me back as soon as possible.

While I waited for a return call, I stripped my clothes off, held them in my hands and examined them closely. My clothes were covered in blood stains and there were huge holes in my pant leg from where I got shot.

My shirt was in even worse shape. There were holes in the shirt from where I got stabbed and even larger holes in the shirt from where wings had grown out of my back and torn through the fabric in the back. The shirt was absolutely shredded.

None of my clothes were salvageable. Even my shoes and panties were soaked in blood. Everything would have to go. I considered taking the all unsalvageable clothing outside and burning it, however the rain was coming down heavily at that point and it was far too wet to start a fire.

On the upside, I was completely healed from being stabbed and being shot. There wasn't even any scar tissue left. I had been shot in the leg, however the flesh where I'd been shot was smooth and unblemished. I'd been stabbed in the chest, however there wasn't even a hint of a scar anywhere on my chest.

I was becoming far more resilient.

I dumped my blood-soaked clothes in a paper sack and resolved to burn them later. Then I called Katherine. Katherine didn't have the resources that Lara had, however she was more than a century old and she knew something about the supernatural world. She might have some useful information.

After four rings, Katherine's answering machine picked up and instructed me to leave a message. I talked to Katherine's machine and explained that some really strange stuff had happened to me today, and I urged Katherine to call me back, so I could elaborate.

I had other friends in Chicago, however, they were all mortals with no connections to the world of the supernatural. I wasn't about to tell them about what had happened to Kelsey.

Having no bright ideas about what to do next, I went to my wet bar cabinet and fixed myself a Cuba Libre. It had been a stressful day and the drink would help me to calm my nerves. I had almost been killed by homicidal bird-women, I learned quite suddenly that I could grow wings out of my back, and I now had a teenage girl under my roof and under my protection. I needed to steady my nerves before I made any more decisions. The alcohol would help push me in that direction.

I was on my second drink when Kelsey padded barefoot out of the shower, with a towel wrapped around her torso.

The alcohol was just beginning to hit my bloodstream and taking me to that deep, calm, untroubled state that I was hoping for, when Kelsey silently walked over to me, smelling of coconut-scented shampoo, her hair still dripping wet and I realized just how attractive she was.

In her truck, I hadn't really thought of her as an attractive woman. In her truck, she mostly looked like a frightened animal, filthy, wide-eyed, trembling and ready to flee and a moment's notice. Fresh from the shower, she looked different. She had smooth, flawless skin, lush, kissable lips, high cheekbones, and oval-shaped face, rounded shoulders, long legs and a slender waist.

Wait. Did I say kissable lips? No matter where my eyes wandered, they always came back to her lips. Why was I doing that? I was already in a relationship with a White Court Vampire. Those creatures were sex on legs. With her in my life, you'd think that I wouldn't even be able to notice other women!

Kelsey looked me up and down with her soft, attentive eyes and said, "Is there a reason you're naked?"

I looked down as my naked body as if I had just noticed my unclothed state for the first time and then looked back up at Kelsey. I had lived alone for so long, I had grown accustomed to taking my clothes off whenever I felt like it, in any room of the house. I wasn't used to having guests.

"My clothes were all torn and covered in blood," I explained, "They're a lost cause. There's no point in hanging on to them anymore."

"Okay," Kelsey replied. She waited a few seconds and then she added, "Listen, if you want me, you can have me. You saved my life today, and if you wanted me, I would be totally okay with that."

Kelsey didn't come right out and explain what she meant by "have me", but it didn't take a genius to figure it out. She was naked except for a terrycloth towel wrapped around her torso and hips, and her body looked firm, lithe supple and inviting. She was willing, and I'd had so many women like her before, however I felt hesitant about having sex with her. I was utterly confused by my own hesitation. Lara and I didn't have a monogamous relationship. And Kelsey was nineteen years old, so she wasn't a child. So, why did I hesitate?

"We'll talk about that later," I said, "Right now, you need to call your mom and let her know that you're safe."

There was a phone in the kitchen. I showed Kelsey where it was and left her to her phone conversation. The longer she spoke with her mom, the more time I would have to examine my own thoughts and feelings.

I had a long history of bedding women from all walks of life. I'd bedded milkmaids, courtesans, nuns, barmaids, flight attendants, school teachers, aerobics instructors and even a duchess or two. I never hesitated to take any of them to my bed, however, when Kelsey offered herself up to me, I paused and had to think it over.

Why was I on the fence about this? She was an attractive woman and she seemed more than willing to fall into my arms.

I looked over at Kelsey and she was quite attractive. Now that she wasn't filthy and twitching with nervous energy, I could see that she was actually tall, lithe and athletic looking. She had a slender, youthful beauty that I normally found delectable. Why wasn't I jumping on her offer?

As Kelsey continued to speak with her mom, at some point she mentioned me and how I had saved her from three hostile pursuers and slain all three. Technically Kelsey had slain one of them herself, however, if Kelsey wanted to give me credit for dispatching them all, I wasn't going to refuse credit. I suddenly liked the idea of having a reputation for slaying hostile supernatural creatures.

"She wants to talk to you," Kelsey said suddenly and handed the phone over to me.

I was surprised at first, but it made sense. If my daughter had been in peril and then she had been saved by a complete stranger, I'd probably want to talk to that stranger as well. I took the phone's receiver and I held it up to my head.

"Hello?" I said, somewhat uncertain how to proceed. Despite my proclamation that I was the Guardian of Chicago, I had never done this sort of thing before. I didn't have a history of being the heroic type. I had spent centuries trying to blend in with the colorless masses and trying not to be noticed. Being a protector of the innocent was a new role for me.

"This is Mary Porter. I'm Kelsey's mother," said a female voice with a Southern drawl, "And I want to thank you for protecting my daughter. You don't know how much this means to me."

"Mary," I said hesitantly, "I don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll protect my daughter," the woman said emphatically, "She's the only family I've got. I never had any other children, and her father is a good for nothing jackass who died in prison."

"Protect you daughter?" I asked, "I thought I already did that."

"The Ordo sicariorum will send more people after her," Mary replied, "I've seen visions. They want her bad. I don't know why, but they're jonesing for her really bad. Somebody needs to protect her."

Suddenly I understood why I had an aversion to having sex with Kelsey. I had been cast into the role of Kelsey's protector. As long as Kelsey was under my protection, having sex with her would be a breach of etiquette.

"I'll protect her," I said to Mary, "You have my word on it."

As if to add dramatic effect to my words the storm picked up and there was a booming thunderclap. The lights flickered, and it seemed like the power was about to go out, however the flickering stopped, and the power stabilized.

"I have a good feeling about you," Mary confided in me, "I think my daughter is in good hands as long as she's with you."

Once I had assured Mary that I would keep her daughter safe, I handed the phone back to Kelsey and she continued to tell her mother about her perilous adventures in fleeing from the Ordo sicariorum.

I was about to head over to my bedroom and get dressed when I noticed a small bloodstain on the towel that Kelsey had wrapped around her torso. It was small, about the size of a silver dollar, however on a white towel, fresh bloodstains tend to jump out at you. A deep red stain on a field of pristine white is incongruous and has a way of drawing your eyes in to focus on the anomalous color.

As I stood and watched, the blood stain on the towel grew even larger.

I hadn't noticed any wounds on Kelsey when I first met her or brought her into my home, however, they could have been hidden. She had been fully and decently clothed when I first met her. Now she was wearing nothing but a towel.

I let Kelsey finish her phone call with her mother and then I pointed out the fact that she seemed to be wounded.

"Kelsey," I said, "did you get stabbed by one of those bird-women when I wasn't looking?"