My Girlfriend is a Vampire Ch. 04

I wrapped my arms around Lara and kissed her deeply. I've had a lot of lovers over the centuries, and not all of them knew how to kiss. Mortal or immortal, some females just never acquire the knack. But Lara knew how to kiss.

Lara probed my mouth with her tongue and we both made soft moaning sounds as my body seemed to fill with electric sparks of sexual excitement. I've been warned hundreds of times about the dangers of having sex with a White Court vampire, but there's a potent dark sexual thrill that dwarfs all the risks. When Lara's hands were touching me, and her body pressed against mine, I was filled with more bliss than a human experiencing opium dreams.

My heart soared, and my loins throbbed as Lara knelt gracefully and peeled my panties from my hips and exposed the smooth flesh of my vulva. Lara looked up and gave me a seductive, smoldering look before she touched her tongue to the folds of my swollen labia.

At the mere touch of her tongue, a frisson of pleasure shuddered through me. I stood there panting, my eyes half-open, my heart racing and bursts of lust running through my body.

"Aahhhh," I gasped with mindless, wanton delight. You might think that after centuries of carnal experiences an immortal would get blasé about sex, however, that's not always the case. If you're with the right partner, sex can seem new and exciting no matter how many orgasms you've experienced in your lifetime. And Lara was the right partner for me. She transformed sex into something mysterious, forbidden and exciting all over again.

Lara's head remained between my thighs and her tongue did delicious things to the swollen folds of my pubic lips, sending waves of ecstasy pleasure out, permeating my entire body. My hips swayed, and I continued to gasp as pleasure built up inside of me.

Like a wave that builds in strength over a thousand miles of ocean, so build the strength of the orgasm deep within my loins. I made uncontrollable gyrations with my hips and inarticulate sounds deep within my throat as I felt libidinous spasms deep inside of me.

Lara would occasionally look up at me and favor me with an amused smile, possibly she was entertained by my squirming or my gasping explosions of lusty, inarticulate euphoria.

"Oh... oh... Oh, Lara... Oh, Aghhhhhh! Oooooohh!"

When I reached the climax, the throbbing, primal wanton, libidinous joy became so intense, my mind completely shut down. I was no longer a thinking, intelligent creature. I was a collection of happy nerve-endings, all flooded with an overabundance of carnal pleasure. I just closed my eyes, moaned and surrendered to the wealth of pleasurable sensations.

My mind had been swept away by the exquisite things that Lara had down to my body. When I was able to think once again, I was naked, panting and lying on the floor, barely able to move.

"Sweet, adorable, Hannah," Lara said as she smiled beatifically at my sweat-drenched, panting body, "No matter what alliances you make with Rochau, there are things I can do for you that he will never be able to."

I continued to pant and made a gesture to indicate I agreed with her. I'm not even sure why she felt the need to remind me. Lara's kind are superbeings who can cram more erotic bliss into five seconds of foreplay than most humans can manage in five hours of sex. There's simply no way I could ever forget the amazing things Lara can do for me.

_____________

"Kelsey," I called out when I got home, "I have good news!"

Part of me was angry at Kelsey for not sharing important information with me. If Kelsey had told me that she had some sort of supernatural tracking ability, I might not have been so worried about her. I might have hypothesized that people in the paranormal community would be far more interested in recruiting her than killing her.

During my absence, Kelsey had made herself at home. She was wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of my bootcut jeans. In addition to that, she was cuddling with a huge dog I'd never seen before. I wasn't an expert on dogs, but it looked like an East-European Shepherd to me. Although it was snowy-white from its nose, all the way to the tip of its tail and I'd never seen a pure-white East European Shepherd before.

"Where'd the dog come from?" I asked.

"It's not a dog," Katherine's voice replied from somewhere in the kitchen, "It's a laochra wolf."

"A what?"

Katherine walked out of the kitchen, trailed by an even larger quadruped. This one was built like the one that Kelsey was cuddling, only this one was pure-black.

"A laochra wolf," Katherine repeated, "a wolf that's been magically bonded to a wizard, witch or magic practitioner of some kind. They're stronger and more resilient than a regular wolf. They're also fanatically loyal and they'll defend the human that they're bonded to until either the human or the wolf is dead."

At the word "wolf" I felt my emotions churn. I like dogs. Dogs are companionable creatures who will lick your face, nuzzle up against you, play fetch and beg you for treats. Dogs are wonderful creatures. Wolves, on the other hand, are cunning predators, who will stalk you for miles, surround you, cut off any means of escape and then they'll maul you to death.

I don't like wolves. Just being near them set me on edge.

"And why are they in my house, Katherine?" I asked, "Before I left, did I give you permission to bring wolves into my home? I'm pretty fucking sure that I didn't."

Apparently, the black wolf didn't approve of my tone of voice. As I yelled at Katherine, he bent his ears back, turned his tail up and stared at me intently, with his eyes narrowed. Then a deep, menacing, rumbling growl erupted from the wolf's chest.

The growling wasn't just loud; it had a resonating quality that I could feel in my bones. Katherine looked down at the furry quadruped and her face just about went white.

"Teddy! No," Katherine admonished the wolf as she leaned over and touched the wolf between his shoulder blades, "Friend! Friend!"

The wolf seemed to take a few seconds to consider this.

He stopped growling, his ears relaxed, and he padded across the floor until he was uncomfortably close, For several seconds he sniffed me. Dogs and wolves make a lot of important decisions based on smell, so I decided to just stand there and try to smell as friendly as possible. If he bit me, things were going to get ugly.

In the end, the wolf didn't bite me. When he was finished sniffing me, he ended up licking my hand and padding back to Katherine. Apparently, I had passed some sort of test, and Teddy no longer considered me a threat.

And while Teddy sat companionably at Katherine's feet, Katherine said, "Look, you told me that assassins were out there, hunting down Kelsey. I thought it would be a good idea to have some sort of protection around the house. If assassins burst in here and tried to kill Kelsey, Edith and Teddy would have fought to protect her."

Any assassin dangerous and imposing enough to be recruited into the ordo sicariorum could probably neutralize Katherine's wolves with very little effort, but I didn't bother to mention that. If these wolves gave her peace of mind, I was in no rush to take that away from her.

Instead, I said, "On the subject of assassins, I have some good news."

Okay, I paused dramatically to get maximum effect. I waited until Kelsey, Katherine and both wolves had their eyes focused on me and everyone was eager to hear me elaborate on my cryptic comment.

"Well?" Kelsey demanded impatiently, "What is it?"

"The ordo sicariorum doesn't want to kill you," I said, "they never did. They just want to offer you a job."

"What?" Kelsey and Katherine both demanded simultaneously.

"Those bitches came at me with claws and swords and sharp, stabby things," Kelsey protested loudly, "That is not how human resource departments go about hiring someone!"

"You're right," I said to Kelsey, "Of course, a key phrase in your argument is human resources. Ordo sicariorum tends to operate outside of human society. They tend to be organized and operated by beings that you wouldn't likely consider to be human. Their organization is run by changelings, conjurers, ectomancers, wizards and the like. They don't tend to think and behave like humans do. They've got their own rules and societal norms."

"Why would they want her anyway?" Katherine asked, "Kelsey isn't an assassin."

No, she's not," I replied, "Kelsey is a tracker."

"What?"

"Kelsey neglected to mention that she has some really impressive paranormal abilities. She can locate anyone, just by thinking about them. She doesn't need blood, hair, or any genetic material to find them. She just has to concentrate on that person! Of course, the ordo sicariorum wants to have her on their payroll!"

"Kelsey," Katherine said, turning her attention to my teenage houseguest, "is this true?"

"It's not a big deal," Kelsey protested, "Most of the women in my family end up with some sort of paranormal ability! Don't get your panties in a bunch!" "Kelsey," Katherine said admonishingly, "do you have any idea how rare your ability is?"

Kelsey petted the fur on the back of Edith's neck and made a face. Her whole attitude was far too blasé. I had to remind myself that she was still just a teenager, and teenagers rarely understood how the world worked or where their priorities should be.

"It's just finding people," Kelsey protested, "It's not like I can set people on fire with my mind or turn lead to gold! It's not like I'm some sort of wizard!"

I rolled my eyes and Katherine gesticulated wildly with her hands and said, "Kelsey, I've known plenty of wizards in my time, and not one of them could do what you do! You're a prodigy!"

"It's true," I told Kelsey, "There are wizards would sacrifice their own children to be able to do what you do. And there are people like Rochau who will pay you a lot of money if you use your abilities to find the people they're looking for."

Much to my surprise, Kelsey didn't seem to be the least bit curious who Rochau was. She didn't ask about him at all. Instead, she just tilted her head to the side and asked, "How much money?"

Young, inexperienced, unsophisticated, but mercenary. It wasn't a great combination, but once I knew what buttons I needed to press, I was able to convince Kelsey to work for the ordo sicariorum and use her powers to help them find the targets they were looking for.

_______________

We met at McAnally's Pub. I didn't want Rochau in my home, and I didn't feel comfortable bringing Kelsey into the home of a white court vampire, so I decided that we could all meet in a neutral location. McAnally's was about the most neutral place in the entire city of Chicago.

Kelsey was like a little kid on her first visit to Disneyland. I had made the mistake of telling her that Mac's Pub was a gathering place for the paranormal beings of Chicago, and she stared at all of them with wide-eyed amazement.

"Who's that?" Kelsey asked, gesturing to a woman sitting at the bar.

"That's Jean," I replied, "She belongs to a local coven here in Chicago."

"Who's that?" she asked, gesturing to a woman wandering towards the back of the room.

"That's Keelin," I said, "She's an expatriate. She used to live in the Kingdom of Queen Titania, but she was kicked out, banished."

"And him?"

"That's Mac," I replied, "He's in charge here, so be nice to him."

"What is he?" Kelsey asked, "A genie? A leprechaun? A vampire?"

"Mac is inscrutable," I replied, "I've been coming here for years, and as near as I can tell, Mac is nothing more than an honest, hard-working, mild-mannered human."

"Seriously?" Kelsey asked, "He's just a normal guy? But all the patrons are freakish, X-Files kinda creatures."

"Don't call them freakish," I admonished Kelsey, "Most of Mac's patrons are good, trustworthy people. You shouldn't denigrate them by calling them freaks."

Kelsey's brow furrowed, and she seemed to consider this for a few seconds.

"What can I call them, then?" she finally asked.

"You can call them members of Chicago's paranormal community," I told her, "And try to be nice to them. These are your people now."

"What?" she exclaimed, "No, they're not!"

"Yeah, they kinda are," I corrected her, "Your ability to track people marks you as paranormal. And you live with me now, in the Logan Square section of Chicago. Therefore, you are now a member of Chicago's paranormal community."

"What?" Kelsey exclaimed, her face turning an interesting shade of red. I found it amusing. Kelsey had magical talent, it made her a part of the paranormal community. It was somewhat entertaining to see her try to deny her connection to her people.

Before I could make my reply, a large shadow loomed over our table. I looked up and saw the imposing figure of Brähmer, towering over Kelsey and me.

Brähmer was a massive, hulking creature with a neck as thick as my waist and shoulders as wide as most doorways. He was almost seven feet tall and had beady eyes that were partially obscured under his heavy brow. A deep, growling sound escaped from his throat as he looked down at Kelsey and me. Kelsey responded by letting out a panicky yelp.

"Ah, Kelsey," I said with a manic cheerfulness that I didn't feel, "allow me to introduce you to Brähmer. Brähmer is a mountain troll that wandered into the city and was hired by Theodore Rochau to act as his bodyguard.

The bulky, imposing-looking man didn't seem to appreciate my sense of humor. He glared at me with his beady, little eyes and drew back his lips into a snarl.

"Now, now, now, Ms. Higgins" came a familiar voice from somewhere nearby, "Antagonizing my other employees is hardly the most efficacious way of fitting in with my organization."

"Sorry, Rochau," I said as the dapper man appeared between two customers, "Brähmer here frightened our young Ms. Porter, and I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"He just loomed suddenly," Kelsey insisted, "like Godzilla suddenly rising up from the ocean without and then BOOM, suddenly he's stomping on cars and tearing down high-tension wires."

Rochau regarded Kelsey with an enigmatic look and replied, "I assure you Brähmer will not be stomping on any cars or tearing down any electrical wires. His main job is to appear large and intimidating and focus attention away from me."

"So, he's camouflage?" Kelsey inquired.

"Something like that," Rochau said, as he took a seat across from Kelsey, "I have many enemies, however, it's difficult for them to focus on me if they're worried about the possibility of Brähmer picking up an SUV with his bare hands and beating them to death with it."

"He's an attention-getter," Kelsey responded.

"Precisely, and the more attention people focus on him, the less attention they focus on me. It's largely about misdirection."

"In a crisis, could he beat someone to death with an SUV?"

"My, aren't you an inquisitive one?" Rochau replied, "Perhaps one day we shall find out."

Kelsey seemed to have run out of things to say, and Rochau just stared at her like a chess grandmaster, waiting for her to make her next move.

"Perhaps we should discuss what you want Kelsey to do," I suggested when the silence became too awkward and uncomfortable for me to bear. "By all means," Rochau agreed.

He pulled a black and white photo out of his pocket and said, "The gentleman in this photo is a serial killer. Normally he kills hitchhikers, migrant laborers or runaways, however, he recently graduated to killing FBI agents. I have a client who is very upset about that."

I studied the photo before passing it to Kelsey. The man in the photo had his back to the camera as he walked through a parking lot. He was slender, well-dressed and had a corporate-style haircut. There were no distinguishing marks or clues to hint at the man's identity.

"What's his name?" Kelsey inquired as she proceeded to stare at the photo.

"We're not certain," Rochau replied, "He killed two FBI agents in Birmingham, stole a car and disappeared. It seems that he left behind no fingerprints and no one got a good look at his face. It's as if he stealthily slipped into town, killed the two FBI agents and slipped out of town immediately after the deed was done."

"Very well organized for a serial killer," I said.

"Oh, some serial killers are quite well organized," Rochau informed me.

I waited for Rochau to elaborate on that cryptic remark, however, he remained annoying quiet. I was wondering how many serial killers he had known in his lifetime.

"What makes you think that he's a serial killer?" Kelsey asked as she looked at the photo, "Maybe he just had a grudge with those two FBI guys, and this is the first time he's ever killed anybody."

"It's the methodology of the kill," Rochau replied, "All murderers have their own style, their own unique way of doing things. The murder of those two FBI agents matches up with the methodology of one-hundred-fourteen other murders."

"One-hundred-fourteen?" Kelsey asked, "How can anybody commit that many murders and not get caught?"

"Not all of them were in Alabama," Rochau explained, "The murders were committed in six different states, police in one state tend to be focused on their own problems and not what's going on outside their own jurisdiction, also there's been a shocking lack of witnesses, fingerprints or other physical evidence to lead the police to the killer."

"Also, if his targets were usually runaways and migrant workers," I opined, "I doubt the police were all that motivated to apprehend the killer."

"Killing federal agents was certainly a game-changer," Rochau agreed, "If he had stuck with low-hanging fruit, he might have gotten away with his killing spree for another five or six decades."

A few curious patrons overheard our conversation about the serial killer and wandered closer in an attempt to eavesdrop. Brähmer noticed and glared ominously at them. They quickly retreated back to their own table.

"Our killer is a very transitory induvial," Rochau divulged to us, "He has left behind victims in Alabama, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi and South Carolina. There is no apparent pattern to his travels, so we've been unable to predict where he'll turn up next."

"That's why you want me," Kelsey offered.

"The FBI will use conventional methods to try to locate him, however, conventional methods are quite unhelpful when all you have is a vague description, no name, no fingerprints and no DNA."

"But Kelsey can find people just by thinking about them," I added, sounding overtly proud. I had only known Kelsey a short period of time, however, I was already thinking of her like a daughter or a wife, somebody that shared a powerful bond with me.

I don't know why I felt such a powerful connection to her. She was only human after all.

Rochau reached into an inside pocket in his blazer and pulled out a map of the United States. He had folded it in such a way that it only showed the states south of Virginia and east of Texas. He handed Kelsey the map and then handed her a pushpin.

"Can you pinpoint the city where our serial killer is currently residing?" Rochau asked.

Of course we all knew that Kelsey could do it. Kelsey's ability to find people was the reason that Rochau became interested in Kelsey in the first place. I watched as Kelsey's eyes became glazed over, she raised the pushpin up and then used it to stab the map.

"Okahumkee, Florida," I said as I stared at the spot where the pushpin had gone in.

"If you want me to narrow down his location any more than that," Kelsey said, "I'll have to go to Okahumkee."