Chapter 16

Eliza tried to slam the library doors as she closed them.  Even with her strength, two twelve foot, oak doors do not slam well.  She did break a nail in the attempt and that soured her mood even more.  She was mad, so mad she didn't' know what to do.  She'd managed to hide it all night long and now she felt like screaming She walked down the library steps muttering under her breath.  "He's got a lot of nerve.  Treats me like a piece of furniture for two weeks, ignores me on our days off and tonight comes in smelling like perfume.  Does he think I'm stupid?  I've got eyes and I can see."  She grinned an evil fang filled grin.  "He might not have eyes it he keeps this up.  I just might scratch them our for him . . .  Serve the bastard right. . ."

The bars would be open for another two hours.  She headed towards Greg's but hesitated.  She wasn't sure she should do that.  She and Jerry had this sort of thing going and she realized it was dangerous as hell for both of them.  Besides, she really didn't want to deal with anyone being nice tonight.  She sighed and headed for another dive she'd seen, Blood Bristo, maybe that would suit her mood.

Entering the "Bristo," her eyes quickly adjusted.  It smelled like a bar, it looked like a bar and . . . "You want a drink, miss, or are you just judging the decor?"  She sighed.  So smooth!

"Plum Brandy," she ordered walking towards the back of the bar.  It had more booths that Greg's and it looked like two girls were working the Johns.  "Just what I need," she figured.  "Oh, well, there's a chance the booze will be good."  She clearly heard a little voice snicker, "Yea, right!"  She took a seat in a back booth and waited.

"Miss, I don't serve the booths.  You get your drinks at the bar."

"Ok, coming," she called, standing up.  She handed him a bill and waited for change.  He returned with her change.

"You want to work the Johns, here, don't cause any trouble and we'll get along just fine.  Screw up and I'll have the cops haul you away so quick you won't know what hit you.  I don't want nothing from you except no trouble, ok?"

Eliza started to tell him what an idiot he was but then, why bother?  "I'm not causing any trouble," she answered.  On the way back to the booth she took a sip of the brandy.  She lifted an eyebrow.  "Hey," she called to the bartender.  He turned and glared at her.  She lifted the drink.  "This isn't bad."  That actually almost got a smile from him.  He made a waving motion with his hand and turned to his chores and she sat in the dark and thought black thoughts.

She was well into her third brandy and the bar would be closing soon.  She had a decent buzz going and did feel less inclined to kill someone.  Finally, the disturbance in one the booths finally attracted her attention.  "Look, I told you that you're not coming to my place and I'm not going to your place.  We are not happening.  You go that??

Then a masculine voice spoke: "I've been buying you drinks for two hours and you've been sucking them up.  Now, we are happening!"  Eliza hear a sound of metal on metal and finally got curious enough to look at what was going on.

"Oh!  Oh shit . . ." she hear the woman say.

"Shut up and lets go. We'll go to my place," he leered.   Eliza caught the glimpse of the knife the man was holding and could see the fear on the woman's face.

"Ok, mister, I'm coming.  Just don't cut me."  She shook her head and Eliza could hear her choke back a sob.  I don't want to be cut again.  I'm coming."  Eliza felt a surge of fury pass through her.  Another man messing with another woman.  She gritted her teeth and stood.  The bar was closing and no one payed any attention as the three of them left the bar.

"I've changed my mind.  Take me to your place," the man said.  He was holding her arm and forcing her to move.  Eliza dropped back and followed them.  She was no more than a shadow, flitting from one dark spot to another.  They finally came to an apartment building and the man and woman stopped at the entrance.  An argument ensued, voices were quickly raised and the man backhanded the woman across the face, knocking her back against the building, and with a quick movement, slashed with the knife, a diagonal downwards slash.

Eliza rushed at the man and hit him with her two outstretched fists, knocking him down, several feet from his original location.  He rolled and bounced back to his feet.  He looked confused but ready to fight.  He saw Eliza and moved in, holding the knife low and leading.  She backed away from the threatening blade.  She wasn't sure how much damage a knife could do to her and she didn't have time to find out.  She bared her fangs threw up her cape and hissed!  His eyes widened and stopped in his tracks.  A brief moments hesitation and he turned and ran like the devil was after him.  It wasn't.  Eliza had turned to the woman, who was leaning against the wall holding her hands over her left breast, blood seeping between her fingers.  She looked at Eliza, wide eyed, "I'm cut.  I'm bleeding."

She sagged and Eliza put her arms around her.  "We'll get you to your apartment and take care of you.  You don't worry now."  Eliza projected calm and confidence and it helped.  She was able to get the injured woman's apartment number and get her home.  Eliza helped her to her couch, ran into the bathroom and got a towel to hold against the wound.  She realized that the woman was going into shock and wasn't sure of what to do.  She must had a first aid course sometime but she couldn't remember anything to do.

"It hurts.  I can't take it.  It hurts."  Eliza looked at her, gazed into her eyes and felt her pain, felt her fear, and knew she was dying.  Locking her gaze, she extended her fangs, leaned forward and gently pierced her neck.  Almost instantly Eliza could feel her relax.  The anaesthetic of the union was working it's magic.  She could feel the pain drain out of her.  She could taste the sweetness of her.  The woman put her arms around Eliza and held her tight.  "Mmm," she said.  "So good."  Carefully, Eliza sat, holding the young woman enthralled.  She removed the towel and carefully unbuttoned her blouse.

"Oh!" she involuntarily exclaimed.  The blood was still flowing and Eliza gave into the instinct and lowered her mouth to the wound and drank.  Time passed and the flow of blood decreased.  The woman seemed to be unconscious, which was probably could considering the extent of the knife wound.  Eliza took her blouse off, closed her eyes and tore her own breast with her claws.  She lowered her body over the unconscious woman and allow the blood to drip over her wound.  Lowering her body, she pressed herself against the wounded lady.

Eliza had never been breast to breast with a woman before and it was soft and warm.  She felt her fangs extend and she carefully suckled from her neck again.  Eliza felt the tension go out of the woman and she relaxed herself.  She kissed a few drops of blood from the neck, and not fully in control, drifted into sleep.

It felt so good.  She loved being held this way.  Naked skin to naked skin.  The soft hand stroking her back hesitated. "Umpf!" Eliza heard and her eyes flew open.  "Where the heck am I?" was her first thought.

"Excuse me," me she heard a small voice say.

"Huh?" she intelligently responded.

"Could you get up, please. I'm having trouble breathing."

Eliza jerked to full consciousness and the prior night came rushing back to her.  She sat up as asked and looked down at the woman lying on the couch.  Eliza put her hand on her cheek.  "Are you ok?"

The woman raised herself to a semi-sitting position by leaning on the arm of the sofa.  She looked down at her bare torso and touched her breast.  She looked up at Eliza.  "I'm not cut.  Am I dead?  What did you do?  Why  is your shirt off?  Did we have sex? Who are you?  What's going on?"

“Whoa slow down, slow down.  One question at a time.  The cut was little more than a scratch.  No you aren’t dead.  The cut nicked a vein a little and it bled a lot.  But the cut wasn’t that bad.  I didn’t do anything really, except clean you up.  My shirt is off because I got some blood on it and washed it in your bathroom.  No we didn’t have sex and my name is Eliza.  I’m a librarian.  Eliza Radu to be exact.  I brought you inside after that guy tried to hurt you.  I just cleaned you up and you went to sleep.  I must have fallen asleep too.”

“Do you know who that dude was?  I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Oh gees, I’m sorry, my name is Vicki, but they call me Angel,” she replied.

“Ok, which do you prefer,” Eliza asked.

“Well, when I’m working, I’m Angel, but this is my place, so call me Vicki.”

“Who was that guy, Vicki?  He sure seemed bent on hurting you.  I followed you two from the bar, and when he tried to slash you, I hit him with a board I found in the street.”

Quick thinking kept her from telling Vicki/Angel what had really happened.  She didn’t think anyone would mind a little white lie.  The truth might cause problems.  “Of course it would cause problems,” Eliza thought.

“He took off running like a bat out of hell and I doubt he’s stopped yet.  My main thought, was to make sure you weren’t badly hurt, though” she explained to Vicki.

Vicki stretched, feeling better and more rested than she had in a long time.  “What time is it?” she asked.

Looking at her watch, Eliza saw that it was about 10 a.m.  Oh man, she’d have to go out in the daylight.  She wasn’t sure she had her sunglasses with her, but the cape had a deep hood that should almost cover her face.  Going into the bathroom, she donned her shirt and grabbed her cape.

“As long as you are alright, Vicki, I’ll be on my way.  I have a lot to do today, before I go to work.”

With that said, a dark shadow passed over Eliza’s face.  She remembered again John’s treatment of her and it made her angry all over.  “Thoughtless man, did he really think I wouldn’t know something was going on?” she thought.

Smiling at Vicki, she made her way to the door, saying that she hoped everything would be ok.  If she had a problem with that guy again, contact the police.

With a smile that already said she’d never do that, Vicki replied that she would, but that the police wouldn’t believe a “working girl.”  “Thank you for your help, Eliza, I do appreciate it. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.”

“Glad I could help, Vicki, see you soon.”

Eliza made her way back towards the bar and then toward home.

Entering her own building, Eliza went into her apartment, she hung her cape up and picked up Toby, who as always, ran to greet her when she came home.  Opening his food, she placed it on the floor and then went into her own bathroom and prepared herself for bed.  So very tired, from the fight with the man, the daylight, and the general tension of the night.  She fell into a deep dreamless sleep, remembering the sweet taste of Vicki's blood and their warm bodies pressed together.

Opening her eyes, wide awake, she lay there thinking about John.  Was he losing interest in her, did he have someone else, was he . . .?  What the hell was he doing?  Knowing she was getting angry again, she could feel the fangs coming down.  Maybe it was time to give John a little lesson.  "You don’t lead me on and then drop me flat."

Dressing for work, Eliza took extra pains to look nice.  Black skirt, mini of course.  Not too short though.  Red satiny blouse with a high close neckline.  Perfect frame for her long black hair and pale skin.  Although she had a slight flush from the activities  of last night.

Arriving a few minutes early, she watched the door for John to arrive.

Hearing his jaunty walk and whistling as he came down the corridor alerted her before he actually came in the door.  Looking up, she saw him trying to smooth out a slight stain on his shirt collar.  Hmmmm, lipstick.  Growling softly, her eyes flashing, Eliza was hard put to control herself.

John smiled at Eliza, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek.  Moving so quickly that John didn’t notice she had, he kissed the air instead of her cheek.

Chuckling to herself, she gave him a cool smile and walked to her desk, pulling printouts towards her.  Burying herself in her work, she ignored him completely.  Answering if necessary and pretending not to hear at other times.  The old cold shoulder.  She grinned.  She was almost enjoying this!

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