Content Warning: Adult language, Adult themes, Nudity, Sex, Plot

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Frankie ran.

 

He was behind her. She knew it. Somewhere in the dark, he was coming. 

 

She didn't know, honestly did not know, what would happen if he caught her. Would he kill her? Was she running from Death again? Or, would he do something worse? Something that would make her long for the Death she'd already escaped once. She didn't know. She just knew that he was dangerous. She just knew she could not let him he catch her.

 

So, she ran.

 

Somewhere in the dark, he followed.

 

 

She had to get somewhere. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where they couldn't follow her. 

 

Where? She couldn't go back. Even if they let her, that would be no better than getting caught. Someplace from before? But, she hadn't had a regular place then. Hadn't had people to look out for her. She had nowhere. Had no one. She was alone.

 

She all she could do was run, and hope. All she had left was hope.

 

That was when she heard the music. 

 

 

Jazz. A lone guitar, playing soothing, gentle jazz. Moving deftly from one classic song to another.

 

She saw him - a lean, young man playing guitar on the side porch of some ratty looking old house.

 

The fence around the side yard wasn't a barrier. The gate opened easily enough. She didn't even think as she ran through it.

 

"Please," she called out breathlessly. "Please help me!"

 

 

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"You sure you're OK?" Slim asked, settling the girl on the couch. "I could get you some water. Might even have a soda in the cooler. No beer, I'm afraid."

 

"No, thank you," the girl said. She still seemed pretty worked up, but a little calmer. 

 

"I'm Slim, by the way," Slim said.

 

"Frankie," the girl said, adding with a sigh, "It's really Frances, but everyone calls me Frankie."

 

"Mine's really Richard," Slim chuckled. "No one has ever called me that. Even my mama calls me Slim. So, nice to meet you, Frankie."

 

 

"Nice to meet you too, Slim," Frankie said with a little smile.

 

They sat together quietly for a moment.

 

"Are you going to ask?" Frankie said at last.

 

"Not my business, unless you want to share," Slim said. "If you need a place to chill for a bit, you're welcome to. If you need a place to crash, we've got an empty room. Probably need to move some boxes and find some blankets, but no one's using it otherwise. "

 

 

"I just need... a place to lay low for a little while," Frankie said. "I... I won't stay long."

 

"OK," Slim nodded. "Look, whatever trouble you're in... you know, cops or whatever... I'd just appreciate it you don't make trouble for me. Or Star. Especially not for Star. She's the other person staying here right now and she don't need any trouble." 

 

"I understand," Frankie said. "I really don't want to cause you any trouble. I just really need a place, just for a day or two, to figure things out."

 

 

"So, that's Star's room," Slim said, nodding toward the open doorway. "I really gotta get her a door. Anyway, the bathroom is the door at end of the hall. The water works... most of the time. There's even has some hot water if you want a shower. That door's me and this one would be you for as long as you need it."

 

"Are you sure you're OK with me staying?" Frankie asked.

 

"It's a place for people who need a place," Slim said simply. "If you don't need anything else, I'm going to crash. Just don't set the place on fire or anything, OK?"

 

"Right, no fires," Frankie chuckled.

 

 

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"She is inside," the woman's voice hissed like a whisper of a cruel wind over dead leaves. 

 

"No matter," the man said, his high, cold voice rich with the old music of the Creole. "She cannot escape me forever."

 

"We could take her now, my lord baron," the ghost whispered.

 

"No," the Baron replied. "There is a scent on the wind... something sweet and dangerous. We must prepare. There is no rush.  The girl will wait. We must consider my brother's elder children. And, of course, the apostate... "

 

 

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In another part of Willow Creek, the apostate vampire Xander Goth vigorously fucked his neighbor's wife.

 

"Oh fuck yes! Give it to me," Claire Archer moaned loudly as Xander thrust into her. "Give me that cock. It's so good."

 

Playfully, Xander slapped her big, soft ass, making the young wife gasp and squeal. She pushed back against him, her curvy body quivering, her dark chocolate-colored skin contrasting beautifully to his own sunless pallor.  

 

"You love that cock, don't you, you slut," Aiden Archer teased his wife.

 

It never ceased to amaze Xander. In public, Aiden was a wealthy and respected businessman, with a fabulous home and nice family, including a beautiful younger wife. In private, his neighbor liked nothing better than watching that young wife writhe, naked and sweating, with other men. 

 

 

"Yes, yes, I love Xander's cock," Claire grunted, looking over her shoulder at Xander. "You have such a great cock."

 

Smiling down at her, Xander chuckled softly. Gripping Claire's thicc waist, he continued pounding tirelessly into her hot, wet pussy. 

 

"Oh yes! Yes, yes..." Claire panted. "Just like that. Keep going. Don't... don't stop. Don't fucking stop."

 

"Give it to her," Aiden groaned.

 

"Yes... yes... I'm... I'm.... cumming!" Claire cried. 

 

As Claire's body jerked and spasmed under him, Xander drove himself into her and, at the same time, leaned down to press his lips against her neck. His long, sharp fangs grazed her skin, cutting just deep enough to draw blood. Even as he emptied himself into her, he took from her. Just a mouthful. Just what he needed. It took every ounce of his self control not to bite deeper. To take more. 

 

 

Later, dressed again, Xander smiled and said, "Thank you."

 

"It was absolutely my pleasure," Claire smiled back at him.

 

"You two are great, man," Aiden said sincerely.

 

"Well, thanks again for sharing, man," Xander said. "'til next time."

 

It was a strange little dance, Xander thought, but the Archers got what they wanted and he got what he needed. As ways to get fresh and willing blood went, it worked. It wasn't something he could do regularly, but it worked.

 

 

Outside, Xander breathed in deeply. The scents of Willow Creek's night drove back the lingering smell of sweat and sex and blood. Drove back the urge to go back inside, to throw Claire down and fuck her over and over, while drinking as deeply as he could. He felt like a hungry man, sitting at a feast and forcing himself to eat only a few small bites. 

 

Control, Xander reminded himself, breathing deeply again. This time, the night air brought him a new scent. The scent of old blood.

 

Looking up, Xander saw him, standing almost predictably at the gates of cemetery. Baron Samedi, the master of the graveyard. 

 

 

Crossing, Xander wondered if Baron Samedi really was, as some claimed, the inspiration of the voodoo loa of the same name, or if the Baron had taken the spirit's name and trappings for his own. It didn't matter, really. Samedi was a nearly three hundred year-old master vampire and a lord of the Dark Court.

 

"Xander, you are having a pleasant evening I see," Samedi smiled, his voice rich with the Creole accents of old Willow Creek.

 

"I am," Xander nodded. The old vampire had probably smelled the blood and sex on Xander from across the street. "To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" he added cautiously. Xander had enemies among the Court, but Samedi hadn't been one of them. 

 

 

"You have heard of the troubles facing the Court of late," Baron Samedi said simply. It wasn't a question. "My own dear brother, Baron Criminel, thinks this is the time to take my domains. He tries to subvert or destroy those of my blood. To bring my vassals to his side. Perhaps he has even approached you."

 

"I don't see why he'd bother," Xander said. "I'm an apostate and barely more than a fledgling. I'd bring nothing to his cause."

 

"No? You are a wealthy man. A respected man in the living world. That carries weight, even from an apostate and a fledgling," Baron Samedi said.

 

 

"I'm not helping him," Xander said plainly. He wasn't one to play word games and he certainly wouldn't try to with a vampire elder. "You could have driven me out, when I fell out of favor. Instead, you let me stay. I remember that. I'm still not swearing fealty to you, but I'm sure as hell not swearing to Criminel either."

 

"No, you are not," Baron Samedi nodded. A broad smile spread across his painted face, "In that case, I need a small favor from you, Xander Goth. Criminel is hunting my vassals, even down to my youngest fledgling. She fled into the night. I would look for her but, alas, I have more pressing concerns. Find my youngest child. Keep her safe and I will be in your debt, Xander Goth."

 

 

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The sun was rising.

 

Frankie stood on the front porch of the squat and watched the sky grow lighter. She'd always loved the sunrise. As a little girl, she remembered waking up early. The first one in the house. It would be quiet, before all the yelling started. Just her, in the quiet, listening to the birds and watching the sky grow light. Waiting for the sun to rise. 

 

She felt the sun now, prickling against her skin. It wasn't hot. Not really. It wasn't cold either. Something else. Something she didn't have words to describe. Something that was trying to pull her down. Toward Death.

 

Frustrated, she screamed at the rising sun. 

 

Screamed to show that she wasn't dead!