Night Tales

"Hello, Seattle, Washington. Welcome to KBSU Nightline. I am Evie Peers and I will be your host for the next few hours, so kick back and relax and let the sound of my voice take away all your worries. The subject matter may cause a little sweat to pop out on your manly brow before the night is completed, but I promise that I will be right by your side the entire time."

Another exhilarating session of audience paranoia, Evie thought. Nevertheless, she enjoyed her job and would never think of trading it for any other type of work. This job provided the freedom she required in her lifestyle. And, truth to tell, she got off on freaking out the denizens of the Emerald City whenever she could.

Evie glanced at the huge clock on the wall, the six-inch hands beginning to move away from midnight. She nodded at the young man standing behind the control pane outside the booth. Looking no older than the university student he was, Scott had gotten the job of working the worst time slot for a pittance as experience to use towards his own degree in broadcasting. Knowing some of his classmates were listening to the show and were green with envy at his spending time with the beautiful radio star, he grinned at her and gave her the okay sign with his thumb and forefinger as he donned his head set.

"Well, my fellow night owls, it appears that the witching hours are upon us and I hope you are prepared in the advent that something foul is lured to your side during the airing of this show. Is that vial of blessed water sitting nearby? Your Rituale Romanum grasped tightly in hand?"

Humor was ripe in her voice, aware that more than one male listener would make something dirty out of her last sentence. She didn't bother to inform them that it was a Catholic ritual used to exorcise demons from a possessed human. 

She kept her voice soft and spoke with her mouth nearly pressing against the microphone, making it feel more intimate, forcing her avid listeners to tune out all extraneous sounds and focus on her silky words. She licked pink lips shining with a thin layer of clear gloss that accented their natural tint and fullness. Her smoky gray eyes, normally wide and curious, narrowed as she fit into the persona she wanted to depict to the night world. Although it was unlikely any of her fans would see her, she always wore sleek, feminine clothing to the radio station, another tactic to keep her mind on who she became during the hours when most people were asleep. Slender fingers, topped with long nails painted a shade of rose to match the knee-length dress she was wearing, fiddled with the pentagram hanging from her slender neck on a delicate chain. She crossed nylon-clad legs, kicked off her high heels and settled into the soft leather chair.

Ratings had gone sky high since Evie Peers had taken over the difficult time slot with her own brand of DJ'ing. The station manager had learned long ago to trust her instinct when it came to filling the dead hours with her unique subject matter, even going as far as shoving the ever-profiting spreadsheets under the owners' noses as proof that her unusual techniques were working for them.

"The shops are closed, the sidewalks are deserted," spoken in almost a sigh. "All the kids have been tucked into their little beds and most of our fellow Seattleites are sawing logs or enjoying a moment of sweet intimacy with their special honey. Even the homeless have abandoned the overpasses and burrowed into cozy niches to wait out the moist hours on this fog-enshrouded eve.

"What about the rest of us? The graveyard workers, the insomniacs and the innately restless. Those of us with too many burdens crushing our spirits to allow us to sink into oblivion. What do we do when the sun dips beyond the horizon and the nightlife begins to stalk our streets? Hopefully, the smart ones set their dial to this station!" She gave a husky laugh.

"If you are tuning into our show for the first time, welcome. I will be spending the next four juicy hours titillating your interest - in the supernatural, that is. Unlike other talk shows, KBSU tries to cater to the needs of the night people, so this next hour is your hour, Seattle. No music, no advertisements, just sixty straight minutes dedicated to tearing down old wives tales and offering sound advice on dealing with the unexplained or the mystical. Interrupted by only a brief pause between hourly segments to let our advertisers pay for this time with you, the next four hours, my fantastic listeners, will delve into the unknown and the downright bizarre. And, if we are really lucky, we might just leave here with a little more knowledge than we came in with."

She looked out the plate glass that extended most of the way across the small office. The brightly lit Space Needle seemed to be pointing up to the large, white ball hanging above the sleeping city.   

"I am being treated to a spectacular full moon outside my studio window, rising out of the fog that is covering our dusty city like a spectral blanket. Which reminds me, if you did not catch last month's discussion on the pros and cons of being a werewolf in today's society, I highly recommend remaining behind firmly bolted doors tonight. No sense tempting the hircine creatures that may roam our thoroughfares over the next three nights. However, if you do happen to see one ambling around in the murk, please give us a call or email us your story. Get a paper and pen, ‘cause you don't want to miss these numbers. " She quoted the phone number and email address twice, her sexy voice making it sound like a porn ad.    

"Alright, listeners. Shall we get down to business? With the bone-chilling haze swirling around our fair city and causing us to see things that really aren't there, perhaps we should start our fun-filled evening with a ghost story. It's the perfect night to hear a campfire tale, minus the warm fire to roast marshmallows over, of course. Who would like..."

Scott caught her attention by waving his arm. When she raised her head, he held up his index finger. She nodded her acknowledgement.

"Well, looks like we already have our first customer on line 1. Good evening, caller. What can we do for you on this deliciously fog-enshrouded night?"

"Hey, yeah. This is Curt. I listen to your show every night during my break at work. All the guys here think you're really hot and you have the sexiest voice ever!"

"Why, thank you, Curt," Evie rolled her eyes. Hardly a show went by that somebody didn't say that in one form or another. She hurried to direct him towards the point of the call. "And what is your question or story that you want to share with us tonight, Curt?"

"Yeah. So...It's kinda stupid." He sounded hesitant to speak so Evie hurried to prod him on before he could waste too much airtime.

"Go ahead, Curt, nobody is going to make fun of you here," she said gently. "Tell us what you have on your mind." She glanced over at the man sitting on the other side of the partition, his hand hovering over the switchboard. With a slight nod of her head, Scott would immediately cut the line, a tactic used whenever the occasional speaker turned a bit too lusty or aggressive to meet even her relaxed late night standards.

"Well, okay. See, a buddy of mine - I'm not gonna give you his name, ‘cause he'll be really pissed if I do! Anyway, he told me that he heard there were these guys that are trained to hunt down ghosts and stuff. And we thought that maybe you would know if that's true or not? ‘Cause, we might wanna join, if it is. It'd be like a Ghostbusters club or something! That'd be awesome, man!" She nodded to Scott and he flipped the switch before further comment could be added.

"Well, Curt. I, too, have heard some fascinating rumors along those lines. It's hard to imagine mere mortal men being educated to battle things from our worst nightmares while we sleep innocently in our homes. But then, many people don't believe that evil -pure evil that goes beyond child molesting and murder - exists in the first place. Haven't we all experienced that spine-tingling sensation after reading a Stephen King novel that makes us want to brace chairs in front of our closet doors and pull the covers over our heads so we won't see if the shadow on the wall moves?

"We dearly love our scary movies, don't we? The Freddy Kruegers, the vengeful spirits and killer trucks. Is it so hard to accept that those same villains and monsters might co-exist with humans in the real world? I, for one, would find it quite comforting to know that most of us will never encounter unspeakable horror because there are men out there patrolling our society to keep the malevolent population at bay."

Evie paused as an idea came to her.

"I'm going to pose a daring proposition, Seattle. I know this program attracts all types of people, all varieties of professions and walks of life. Is there anybody out there who actually deals with ridding the planet of nightmare monsters who is willing to call in and talk to me? Maybe answer some of our most dire questions. Or just to confirm that these, um, demon hunters, actually do exist? You don't have to give me your name, but, please, do call me.

"And no pranksters or whackos tonight or I'll set my personal goon squad on you," she warned with a low, pleasant growl. She could see Scott laughing out of the corner of her eye. "Meanwhile, why don't we take a couple more calls..." She noticed the blinking light on the console before Scott could bring it to her attention.

"Well, my esteemed listeners, you are very quick on the draw tonight, I must say. Maybe this is one of our legendary night warriors. Shall we see? Hello, this is Evie with KBSU Nightline. Who am I speaking with?"

"Well, this is the man of your dreams, Evie! Ask and you shall surely receive!" The cocky male voice sounded confidant and amused.

"Am I to presume you are one of the so-called hunters we have been hearing about?" The beat of her heart sped up just a notch.

"So-called in the flesh - er, voice."

Evie smiled. "And, just for convenience sake, do you have a name we can refer to you by?"

"Well, guess God has already been taken, so why don't you call me Bill."

"Okay, Bill," she laughed, unable to help the small wave of hilarity that hit her. This guy was definitely going to make for a great show. "First, why don't you tell the listeners what men like you call themselves?"

"Hunter will do, sweetheart. And, just for the record, it's not just men, there are more than a few women out there kickin' demon ass - Oh, am I allowed to say ass on the air?"

"Sure, why not. I do."

"How about bitch? Can I use that one? ‘Cause, in my profession, Evie, there's just times when a good sonofabitch comes in handy to break the tension. ‘Course I would never refer to you as a bitch, sweetheart. Unless that does it for you. Then, I'm on it like that." He snapped his fingers.

Evie could hear the teasing in his pleasant baritone voice and grinned, beginning to get a mental design of the speaker. She had been DJ'ing the midnight to four o'clock segment of KBSU for the past three years and had become an expert at reading people over the airwaves. His mode of flirtation put him into the player category, a hit with the ladies, glib with the pick up lines. In addition, probably an expert in bed. She would bet her last dollar on that one.

She glanced at Scott just as he made an exaggerated pout of disappointment, having zeroed in on the man's obvious preference for the female species. Having a gay assistant prevented a lot of on-the-job harassment and had provided her with more than a few humorous moments since he had signed on with her.

"Well, I do have my bitchy moments, Bill, but we'll save that story for another day. Speaking of your profession, can you tell us something that will make us believe you are, in fact, what you say you are? That you actually hunt the supernatural for a living?"

"Well, that's stretching it a bit. See, we don't actually get paid for sending demon spawn back to hell. It's more like...I guess it's like you get caught up in it somewhere along the way. Usually, because something friggin' bad happened and you were forced to believe in the things we hunt."

"Did you get into hunting because something bad happened?"

There was a lengthy pause and Evie wasn't sure if he would respond. Prepared for a dial tone suggesting he had hung up, Evie breathed a sigh of relief when he finally spoke.

"A family member was killed by a demon when I was small," the soft voice said. "We kind of took it personal and my family's been tracking it down ever since. We'll get the bastard, too! Believe it," the caller snarled. Then he gave a small, embarrassed chuckle. "Hey, sorry. Didn't mean to go all emo-Rambo on you. It's a sore subject," he added, his tone telling her it was off limits to further questioning.

"Then why don't we talk about something else? Like, what have you dealt with over the past years? Can you tell us about one of your hunts?"

"Gee, been on so many, hard to keep ‘em all separated." She knew by his tone that he was serious. "Guess that's why most hunters keep a record."

"A record? You mean like a diary of what you've hunted every day?"

"Yeah, only not so girlie sounding. My family, we keep a journal. Very manly. Leather bound and everything." He laughed and the sound sent a pleasurable shiver up her spine.

"So, can you tell us a little about your journal?"

"Well...My dad started it when I was a kid. It's like a reference, tells us what evil bastards he's hunted, the best ways to destroy it. Saved my bacon more than once."

"How do you destroy most of the supernatural things you encounter? Lop their heads off? Silver bullets?"

"Some things, like the werewolf you mentioned earlier, need a silver bullet to the heart. Others, like your garden-variety spirit, are repelled by salt. Being a symbol of purity, salt disperses them, scares them off until you can locate their bones and burn them. That usually sends their souls to wherever spirits are supposed to go after the body dies."

"So, there's a way to kill everything inhuman that you might encounter, is that right?"

"I guess so, although sometimes it takes massive hours of research to find that magic bullet. But, you have to know that not everything supernatural is evil," Bill added. "Somebody close to me once pointed that out. We don't waste it just ‘cause it's supernatural. If it's not killing or hurting people, we leave it alone. We, my family and I, figure there's enough true evil out there to keep us busy twenty-four seven without bothering with the milquetoast stuff. Although, there's plenty of hunters out there who disagree with that philosophy and destroy anything not human they come across, whether it deserves it or not."   

"You should write a book to inform people of what is really out there," Evie suggested. "Every chapter could be about a different hunt you went on. It could be like a how-to book, a Destroying Evil For Dummies manual aimed at the general population. I'm sure it would be an immediate best-seller, seeing that the paranormal is a big favorite nowadays. You could make a lot of money and never have to hunt again."

"See, right there, that's not what hunting is all about," the voice said calmly, yet giving her the impression that she had just been reprimanded. "It's got nothing to do with money. If it did, not too many of us would be out here getting our asses kicked by things you people don't even believe in, let me tell you, ‘cause the pay's shitty! It's all about saving people, keeping families out of harm's way, destroying the monsters under the bed and preventing mom's dying in the middle of the night..."

Bill stopped, as if he realized he was offering too much detail about a subject best left buried. "It's not about the money," he repeated firmly. "Course," he added, trying to lighten up the mood again, "if anybody out there has an offer for a book deal, I have a br...a geek relative that might be able to whip up something on his computer!"

There was a mumbled comment that sounded like "Bite me!" in the background, quickly followed by Bill's "Shh! I'm on the air, you moron! They'll hear you!"

"I take it you're not alone, Bill. Do you have a camera crew with you, like that TV show that investigates haunted houses?" Now Evie was even more intrigued.

"Nah, that's just my, um, research assistant, uh, Stanley. He takes care of most of the mind-numbing research we gotta do and helps keep my shit out of the fan, you might say."

"Welcome, Stanley. Do you have anything to say to us, tonight?"

"No, he doesn't," Bill said firmly. "Sides, this is my dime. He can make his own friggin phone call."

"So, this job you do, it involves a lot of research?"

"Man, I'll say," said the deep voice apparently belonging to Stanley. "Without the hundreds of hours of research I've put in, half these hunts wouldn't even have been possible!"

"Dude, what part of Sh! don't you understand? And get back on your own damn side of the car!" She was treated to a rich trill of laughter from the passenger seat and hoped her audience could hear it as well.

"You're driving while talking to me? I was wondering what that steady roar was. It must involve a lot of traveling, since I'm pretty sure the things you hunt don't come to you. Do you have a home base that you work out of?"

"Don't need one. Home, office, mobile babe magnet...my baby does it all." She heard a loud snort in the background. "I'm just stating the bald truth -"  Another snort. "Shut up! Oh, not you, Evie. Assistants can be such a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?" Evie automatically glanced at Scott, who was waiting with arms crossed and narrow-eyed scrutiny for her response to that last line.

"So, Bill," she wisely moved on. "We all grew up to stories about ghosts and vampires -"

"Ugh, vampires. Hate those things," Bill muttered.  

"- Maybe you could regale us with something we aren't as familiar with?"

"Yeah, sure. Let's see. Maybe a Wendigo. Now that's one fugly mother you don't ever want to mess with!"

                                                 SUSUSUSUSUSUSUSUSU

"So, there you have it, listeners. Straight from a hunter's mouth - the weird and unnatural truly does exist. And, isn't it good to know that we can sleep peacefully at night knowing that we have these night warriors covering our backs? Keeping us blissfully ignorant of what really happens out there while we are dreaming of sugarplums and revisiting idyllic vacations in the Bahamas.

"It's been great talking to you, Bill. Before I let you go, perhaps you can tell us how the average, untrained civilian can protect him or her self from forces beyond our comprehension? Should we arm ourselves with silver bullets and consecrated iron to prepare for the fight with whatever we might encounter in the dark?"

"No! Absolutely not! Hunters are trained to deal with these things, you're not and you're just going to get yourself killed. Or worse, you'll piss it off and make our job ten times harder! Sometimes the best weapon is doing nothing. If you load yourself up with shotguns and books on the occult, you might just attract the very thing you don't want to mess with. Demons especially seem to have radar when it comes to that sort of thing. The last thing you want to do is mark yourself as a potential threat."

Bill's voice had lost any sign of humor as he cautioned her listeners. "I'm not sayin' you can't be prepared with salt and holy water in the cupboards. But, if you see anything out of the ordinary, you run like hell! And I'm not talking about the average Casper here, sister. I'm talkin' throw-your-ass-against-the-wall black-eyed shadow creatures or things that look like your recently-buried Aunt Tilda. You see anything that doesn't belong in your safe little world, you get your ass indoors and you grab the biggest, sharpest knife you can find and you hold that mother in front of you while you speed-dial the cops on the phone and tell them something is after you."

"But, you said earlier that regular lead bullets don't stop most supernatural beings. What can the cops do if it's not human?"

"Well, nothing. But at least the human contact might keep you from totally freaking out. Plus, their arrival often chases them away. But, the last thing you want to do is try to fight it. Surest way to find yourself dead in the morning."

"Well, our time is sadly up for this hour. Thank you so much for your wealth of information, Bill. I hope you call me again some time in the near future."

"Oh, you can count on it, sweetheart. Next time I'm in the neighborhood, I'm all yours."

Evie was disappointed to hear the brief dial tone as the caller hung up and Scott cued in the advertisement. She would have a few minutes before she began the next round of calls, but nothing would compare to the highly interesting conversation she had just enjoyed with Bill, which she was sure was not his real name.  

 SUSUSUSUSUSUSUSUSU

Sam watched his older brother tuck his cell phone back into his pocket, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Dean! I can't believe you just told a complete stranger about our private life, screaming live from a major city. What if other hunters heard you and recognized your voice? We've already got more enemies than friends, Dean, and going on the air with what we do...Man, that's just asking for more trouble. You've never bothered to call in to other radio shows we've listened to."

"They were too boring to bother with."

"What is with you?"

 "What?" The elder Winchester gave his younger brother an annoyed look. "You sayin' we should just let people go on believing that there's nothing out there? That they aren't going to be demon treats if they don't play it safe? I just thought it would make people feel better to know that hunters are real. That they have somebody fighting for their side, that's all."

Sam stared him, not buying the concerned-hero speech for a second.

"Fine! I wanted to see if her voice was as sexy on the phone as it is on the radio. That sugary voice could turn a priest into a...Well, into me!" He grinned at his younger brother.

"Yeah, thought so. You're such a perve, Dean."

The older hunter shifted on the seat, irritated at being judged. "Like you didn't think she sounded like something you'd like to find under your covers?" He snorted.

 Sam grinned at his brother and shook his head. "Regardless, I'm not the one who practically told the state of Washington my name, rank and serial number. I'm surprised you didn't just give her your cell number over the air or arrange a secret meeting or something while you were blurting out our life history to the world."

"Yeah, well, shows you don't know everything about me." Actually, he had been trying to think of a way to do just that but had come up with a blank. He certainly wasn't going to tell his brother that. "Sides, she's probably a fat senior citizen with frizzy gray hair and wearing support hose. No way I'm spoiling the perfect image I have of a petite blond with legs that go clear up to her tight little ass."

"Whatever gets you through the day, dude," Sam replied with a shake of his shaggy head. He stretched his long legs out as best he could and slumped down in the seat. "I can't believe you told that one caller to go screw himself! Wonder if there's a time delay so they can bleep you out!" He closed his eyes and prepared to doze away the next few hours of the long drive.

"Yeah, well that moron deserved it. Who in hell thinks they're safe from demons just because they hang a crucifix on their wall? If it was that easy, we'd be livin' the high life in a hunter's retirement center!"

"I believe you already covered that on the air, Dean," Sam grumbled, losing interest in favor of a nap.

"Well, he deserves to be eaten, if you ask me." Seeing his brother trying to fall asleep, Dean resigned himself to his own thoughts.

"Ha!" Dean suddenly chortled, startling Sam into sitting back up to see what was wrong. "The goddess of the airwaves called us friggin' Night Warriors!" He smacked Sam on the arm. "Got a ring to it, doesn't it? Gonna have to get some business cards made up. Night Warriors. That's so cool, man."

Sam laughed and crossed his arms over his chest and settled back down in the seat. "So, Bill. Think we can go to our next job any time soon or are you planning on dawdling here a bit longer to watch the pretty sunrise?"

Instead of replying, Dean popped a cassette into the dash, the sound of loud rock music quickly drowning out the roar of the engine as the sleek black Impala raced down the road, the morning sun just beginning to break the darkness and tint the eastern sky pink.

SUSUSUSUSUSUSUSUSU

The slender brunette stepped out into the waning darkness and tugged her heavy coat tighter around her body as the chill air hit the exposed skin on her face and neck, the silky nylons below the hem of the coat offering no protection from the dampness.

She stopped and looked out at the waking city, the dense fog shielding the lights flicking on in the tall structures surrounding her, masking any sounds made by early risers. She loved the time before dawn, when stars were still twinkling in the sky and everything appeared calm and innocent. Some folks might have thought the surreal vapor twirling around her ankles was spooky, inducing thoughts of danger waiting to sneak up and send them into a nightmare world of pain and fear.

Evie, however, was too used to dealing with slash topics and creatures of the night to be scared of most things. Still, she glanced around the almost empty lot and hurried to her car, a midnight blue sedan with tinted windows parked beneath a streetlight. Long legs climbing in behind the wheel, her delicate fingers reached out to lock the door quickly behind her before she started the engine, laughing at her sudden case of jitters.

"Get a grip, Evie," she murmured, gunning the little sedan and zipping off towards the outskirts of the city, not concerned if she attracted unwanted attention by any cops that might be cruising the streets. After all, more than one law officer had already succumbed to her special brand of distraction.  

Daylight rapidly approaching in her rear view mirror, Evie parked in her reserved space in the underground garage and took the elevator up to her third floor condominium apartment. The night watchman greeted her at her door and gave her a small salute. "Morning, Miss Peers. That package you were waiting for was delivered a short time ago. I left it in your apartment for you."

"Thank you, Lester. You should get home, the sun's almost up." She dug in her purse and handed him a nice tip for his consideration.

"Yeah, it has been a long night, what with all the tedious boredom to fight off and everything." He chuckled. "Time to go home to the old lady and get some shut eye." He tipped his cap at her and took the elevator back down to the first floor, whistling some vaguely familiar tune from an old TV program.

What was that? The Adams Family? She shrugged and entered the gloom of her apartment, not bothering to switch on any lights as she made her way to her bedroom. 

She thought back to the earlier telephone conversation with the hunter, Bill. His husky, teasing voice still making her skin tingle in reminiscence. The man had claimed that he spent his life pursuing the supernatural, that he was a specialist in killing anything demonic. He, along with a multitude of others, was a slayer of urban legends. It would be interesting to see just how many hunters, practically urban legends themselves, were out there.

An idea rifted though her mind. She could develop a monthly episode interviewing hunters all over the country - if she could get them to call in, that is. She was sure they wouldn't all be like the charismatic young man that had entertained them over the airwaves tonight, but it would still make for a tremendous show.

His side kick, Stanley, with the deep voice and high laugh, surely he also must be a hunter? Bill sounded too heterosexual for the two men to be lovers. Still, this was Seattle. You had to have an open mind to live here amongst such a varied population of Goths, gays and straights. However, she would be very disappointed if that was the case.

Sitting on the edge of her bed after disrobing, she paused. I can't believe it's true, she mused. To find out hunters did exist was quite a shock. On top of that, like the proverbial salt in the wound, they were here, in her city. Not that she was sloppy to begin with, knowing her life was in the balance if she got careless and screwed up, but now she would have to be that much more cautious. A definite inconvenience.

Evie crawled under the sheet, enjoying how the satin felt against her naked skin. She rolled over and put her arm around the trembling man already lying in her bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his cheek to his neck, pausing to feel the rapid heartbeat at the base of his throat, excited to see how his bare chest heaved in panic.

The package, undoubtedly a Fed Ex driver or service man that would not show up at the rest of his schedule stops, was young, sturdily built and attractive. The service had done well for her this night, once again earning the extravagant monthly fee she paid them. She ran her hand up one muscled arm until she reached the cord binding his hands to the bed frame, feeling him quiver under her touch. He tried to speak through the tape across his mouth, his tearful, blue eyes expressing his horror at what might soon happen.

"Don't be afraid of me, sweetheart. I won't kill you. Not unless you make a fuss, that is. I promise you'll wake up later thinking this was all just a happy dream. Shh..."

She caressed his chest and ran her hand down his lean stomach, knowing his desire for her would soon be growing despite his current fear. She carefully pulled off the duct tape from his mouth and rose up on her elbow to capture his lips under her own. He tried not to comply but was soon kissing her back. She pulled away and he watched her closely, undoubtedly wondering what the crazy woman was going to do next. She noticed that his fists were no longer clenched as tightly.

"That's it, relax. Don't worry, I have something better planned for you, darling, than death." She leaned closer and stroked his warm neck with her tongue, tasting the salty skin created by his frightened struggles since he had woken up to find himself naked, tied up in a strange room. "But first..."

He struggled only a brief time once she bit into his throat, calming down as soon as the hormone released from her fangs flooded his system. Like an alcoholic, it still took a lot of willpower to control how much she drank and she forced herself to release him after only a few sips of the sustaining liquid. She would partake of a little more several times during the next few hours and was not in a hurry to get rid of her "guest."

She wished it was the hunter laying next to her in a quasi-drug-induced state. She imagined what he might look like, immediately picturing a handsome man in his prime, tall, broad shouldered, strong enough to give her a nice fight for her money.

He's probably a balding trucker verging into lumpy. She imagined his deep-voiced partner: also tall but gangly limbed with a large Adam's apple, horned rimmed glasses, a laptop glued to his skinny thighs, fingers tapping swiftly across the keyboard as they drove to their next case. With her luck, he'd be the good-looking one, too interested in books to be any fun.

She grinned at her own fancy, causing the man lying against her side to stare at the lovely woman, entranced. She bent down to lick the blood from the two tiny wounds in the man's neck and wondered if a hunter would taste different from the average human being. Would her natural abhorrence of his kind make his blood taste sweeter? Would she even get the chance to find out before he decapitated her? She felt her flesh tighten in trepidation, and then forced herself to stretch languidly and set her fears aside.

Really, she had nothing to worry about. She stayed out of the lime light; she doubted any of her callers knew what she really looked like and the few stalkers she had had over the years had inexplicably disappeared. If she did ever encounter the intriguing caller, she would easily be able to recognize him by his sexy voice, his teasing charm. She was confidant that she would know immediately that she was facing the young hunter.

What if she did meet him? Would he put her under the category of supernatural-but-not-evil? Even though she drank from humans to survive, it had been a very long time since her last kill. Or, would he terminate her based on the fact that she had killed in the past, case closed. Would she even be given the chance to explain that she had completely tuned her life around and was no longer a direct threat to his people?

Evie enjoyed moving amongst the living and had no desire to return to a life of hide and seek, not knowing where she would spend the night or where her next meal would come from. It was a lifestyle that demanded she seek the company of others like herself to ensure her safety. No, a nest life was not for her. She was quite content existing in her lovely apartment by herself. With an occasional guest.  

Her captive moaned and she looked puzzled for an instant, having forgotten about him for a few minutes in her distraction over the young demon hunter. She gave a delighted laugh and rolled on top of him, freeing his bound hands from the bedposts now that he was "tame," unresistive to whatever she wanted to do with him. Yes, she truly loved humans. For so many reasons. Their physical warmth, their sense of humor, their emotions - their life-giving blood. She snuggled up to the human creature and breathed in his intoxicating scent, a mixture of aftershave, shampoo, soap and his own individual male musk. He was pliant and willing as she began to explore his shape, his many textures, encouraging him to respond in kind.

Occasionally she longed for the old days, the thrill of the capture, the deep drink that also took their life breath. Back when she didn't have to worry so much about being caught feeding because their awareness of her species was absent. People were ignorant of what roamed the earth beside them during a time that lacked horror novels and movies. Security cameras did not exist. Of course, back then she would never have set her prize free after she was done with him. Times had changed and so had she, preferring to enjoy everything a man could provide her, not just a quick meal. 

Nevertheless, just once, she wished one of them would offer a little more resistance, even though she knew it was too risky to leave them unfettered if not under the influence of the vampire hormone. She could lose everything if it resulted in drawing the attention of the wrong people.

Perhaps, just for the fascinating young huntsman, she would find an isolated location where she wouldn't have to rely on her fang's chemicals to take the fight out of him. She could let him rage and rampage all he wanted, as long as she got what she wanted out of him in the end. Perhaps she would be able to get the other one, as well. Two for the price of one.

Her body tingled in anticipation. Her fangs descended at the thought of exploring those who tracked and destroyed her kind. She would have to find a way of making it happen.

Evie hoped Bill would call back again. Soon.

    The End