Mark sipped his rum and thought about Eliza.  Now there was a strange one.  Strange, but as sexy and hot as he'd ever encountered.  Smiling, he thought of their evening together.  She'd really scared the crap out of him at first but then common sense prevailed.  He'd seen some of the goth set with the cosmetic fangs before and thought such act out wannabes were sick in the head.  He grinned; sick or not she'd given him the best night of his life.  She'd been very sweet and tender.  Oh, a wild cat in the sack and there did seem to be pieces of the evening missing, but that brandy she'd shared with him was enough to do that.  He wondered how such a tiny lady could hold so much of that stuff.  She had been drinking at least two to his one, and if she’d felt the way he felt the next day, she couldn't have made it to work for a week!

"Hey, big boy.  Is there room for one more?"  

The hot breath in his ear make him jump, spilling much of his drink.  He spun around in the booth to see a smiling Eliza standing behind him. "How the hell did you get behind me," he blurted.  I've been staring at the door, sort of hoping you'd show!"

Eliza smiled an enigmatic smile and with a wistful look said, "I guess no one wants my company tonight."  She started to walk on by him.  

"Oh," Mark grunted, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the booth with him.  She landed on his lap, head toward the wall, giggling.  She'd reached up and locked her hands behind his head, supporting her weight.  

"I guess maybe you don't mind if I sit here," she said with a sweet smile.

Mark looked at the sexy lady on his lap and in his arms and marveled at how tiny she was.  Impulsively, he leaned forward and kissed her.  A kiss she enthusiastically returned.  Breaking the kiss, she was the first to speak.  "That was nice, now buy me some brandy, ok"

Mark chuckled.  "Anything for you sweet thing."  He helped her up and get situated on the inside of the booth.  He held up two fingers indicating he wanted two drinks.  A little bit of pantomime and he'd communicated he wanted two brandies.  They obviously knew Eliza well enough to know what she wanted.  Her looked at her and felt at a loss for words.  What do you say to a beautiful woman that you done so much with?  He was at as loss for words.  Fortunately, the drinks were delivered and the ritual of paying and tipping bought him time.  

Taking a sip of his drink, he looked at her.  "You are more beautiful than I remembered, if that's possible," he said.  

She smiled and he could swear she actually blushed.  She was almost impossible to figure out.  She could have been any sex crazed, drugged up goth chick but she was so tiny and so sweet.  He remembered how easily she forced him to his back on the bed.  He remembered the lust in her eyes and how her long black hair framed her pale face.  Ok, maybe she was sex crazed but there was no sign of drugs.  

"You're looking pretty good yourself," she rejoined.  "I hope you aren't waiting for anyone."  

He was surprised to actually feel his heart pound.  She was direct and to the point.  Every man would like to look at a beautiful woman and think that she want's him.  He looked at her and thought in awe, "She really does want me."  He took a deep breath.  "Would it sound too silly if I said that I was waiting for you?"  He shook his head.  "Oh, that sounded stupid," he told himself.  "She's going to scream, 'You're a jerk!" and leave."

She giggled.  "It would sound silly, but just silly enough to work.  I like the idea of someone waiting for me."

"Eliza," he said, proving he remembered her name, "any man who isn't waiting for you just hasn't met you."

She giggled again.  "Now, Mark, don't over do it!"  She put her hand on his knee, taking all of the sting out of her gentle rebuke.  

She took a sip of her drink and arching her back, shrugged the cape off.  Mark, again, felt his heart pound as he watched her.  The move was so graceful and so sexy that he thought, "She must have practiced that move.  And I'm sure glad she did."  Actually, she had practiced the move and could tell by his face that it had just the effect she wanted it to have.

The band was mellow, the brandy was good, they laughed and giggled.  Their conversation was often suggestive and they exchanged looks and touches that heightened the sexual tensions and awareness between them.  The band went on break and the faint echoes of a midnight bell could be heard in the relative silence.  Eliza looked at him and he wondered if his toes were really curling or if it just felt that way.  "You know what I want to do?" she asked in a sultry voice.

"You want to go to my apartment and make wild passionate love," he blurted out. "Oh, damn!  I didn't really say that," he chided himself instantly.

Eliza reversed her prior motion with the cape, producing a similar effect in him, leaned forward and whispered, "Yes, let's go."  He felt a piercing pain in his ear lobe, felt hot breath on his cheek, a soft brush across his lap that electrified him.  She smiled sweetly at him and made shooing motions at him with her hands.  "Come on.  Get it in gear.   Let's go!"  She gave him a wicked grin.

By reflex, he looked, half expecting to see fangs but all he saw was ruby red lips in a pale face.  He leaned forward and brushed her lips with his.  So soft!  So warm!  "Ok," he said sliding out of the booth and standing. "Off we go."

Walking into the night, he had his arm around her shoulder and her arm was about his waist.  A tall, well dressed man approached them in a manner to prevent them from passing him on the side walk.  Eliza's danger instincts came alert and she realized this was trouble.  The man approached and spoke to Mark.  "Please excuse me a moment, sir, but I need to have a conversation with the little lady, here."  Mark instantly bristled but before he could say anything, she jerked him backwards with surprising strength.

She smiled innocently at him.  "You wait.  It'll only be a moment, ok?"  He was confused and not sure what was going on but he nodded assent.  After all, she didn't seem disturbed.  

The man put his arm about her shoulders and spoke in a low voice as they walked.  "I've seen you around and now you and the gent are going for play time and what you don't realize is that I don't allow independents on this street."  The were passing an alley and with a surprisingly quick and smooth move, he directed her into the alley.  Eliza was so shocked that she was at total loss for words.  He pushed her back against the brick wall.  "You are not a tourist, you're street.  I can smell street and you're not working without protection and I'm your protection."  

He grabbed her by the throat and drew his hand back to slap her.  Eliza's reflexes finally kicked in.  She reached up and with an iron grip, twisted the hand from her neck.  The vicious slap at her face was redirected and he realized that concrete alley was rushing at his face.  He felt her soft breasts on his arm and then a sharp yank on his left arm caused him to twist and land with a lung emptying thud on the hard alley.  He looked up and saw her draw her left hand back.  A knee landed in his low groin and an iron hard palm slammed just beneath his sternum, into his solar plexus, driving all the air from his lungs.  He curled into a fetal ball, aware of only pain and the desire to breath.  He wasn't even aware of the kick that split the side of his face open and saw only blackness.

Stepping out of the alley, she brushed her cape off.  "What some people will do for a buck," she quipped.  "I thought pan handling was illegal in this city."  

Mark came over to her.  "A pan handler at this time of night?"  He looked around. Where is he?"  

"Oh, I think I wasn't too nice!  I may have offended him, and he stormed out the other end of the alley.  Good riddance, I'd say."  

"Damn! Eliza.  You should have better sense than to go into an alley with a bum.  What's wrong with you?"  Eliza shrugged and grinned.  "I'm going to have to spank you for being so silly," 

Eliza poked him in the ribs with a surprisingly firm elbow, "Promise?"

Mark could only stare at her.  He found it hard to believe, that sitting in the middle of his bed, was one of the most beautiful, naked, sexy ladies he'd ever imagined.  She threw her head back to swallow the last of the brandy in the glass and sight of her taut breasts was enough to kill for!  He allowed his gaze to wander over her body and he loved every bit of her.  Other than her jet black hair, she hadn't a single hair on her body he could see.  

He'd carefully explored her body, earlier as they made love the first time.  Her skin was silk smooth everywhere.  There was no hint of stubble or razor burn anywhere on her body.  He knew.  He was sure.  He had checked.  Oh, how he had checked and Eliza's writhing, moans and squeaks were an indication of how much she'd enjoyed the search.  He rolled over and put his head in her lap.  Her bare thighs were soft and warm and very exciting.  She held the brandy bottle over his mouth, and by putting her thumb over the mouth of the bottle, allowed it dribble into his mouth.  

Getting a wicked grin on her face, she slowly move the bottle down his body, allowing drops of cold brandy to trickle onto his chest, his stomach, a little down each thigh.  He gasped as the cold liquid hit him and he could feel his body respond.  He looked at her wondering what she was going to do next and saw her kneel and cover him.  She carefully licked the brandy from his chest allowing a delightful view of her breasts.  He jumped as he felt a sharp pinch and could only moan as she sucked and licked the brandy she'd dribbled on his body clean.

He kissed her thigh and marveled at how soft it was.  An almost irresistible urge came over him and he bit her.  He bit her harder than he meant to and the salty taste of blood filled his mouth.  Immediate concern took him and he started to apologize when his eyes widened with multiple sensations he didn't know how to describe.  She'd pressed her slightly bloody leg to his mouth and a sharp but delicious pain spread though his body.  She was doing unimaginable things to him with her mouth and hands that were redefining his concept of pleasure.  

His head spun from the brandy and what she was doing to him.  His head spun as the taste of her blood filled his mouth.  His head spun as the taste of her body filled his being.  He heard someone moaning, he heard someone screaming.  He wasn't sure but it could have been him, or maybe it was her.  

Mark groaned.  His head hurt.  Something rough was pressing into his cheek and something smelled funny.  It was far too bright but he couldn't quite understand what was wrong.  Finally managing to open one eye and carefully focusing revealed a carpet.  The carpet in his living room.  The light was the sun streaming into his window.  The funny smell was a brandy soaked sock that he was lying on.  What had he done last night?

Memory of Eliza came rushing back to him.  Flashes of her, with long fangs and covered in blood, jumped into his mind.  A flash of her tenderly kissing him and pressing close to him filled his mind.  He tried to sit up but only made it half way. "Oh, I may never drink again," he thought.  "How can she take that stuff?"  

He finally managed to get to his feet, weaving unsteadily, he looked around his living room..  Yes, she was gone.  He was quite the neat freak but the apartment looked like a cyclone had gone through.  "How can such a little girl do so much damage," he wondered.  Staggering to the bed room he sat heavily on the bed.  He lay back and considered the strange being that had entered his life.

As he lay there, he wondered why he felt so weak.  It wasn’t just from the brandy they’d consumed, although there had been a lot.  It was more than a hangover.  He felt totally weakened. It seemed to him, that this happened each time they were together.  Smiling to himself, well grimacing was more like it, he guessed this was the price to pay for loving, “hey where did that come from”, a................vampire.  

“Geez my wits must be more addled than I thought,” he said to himself.  “Love and vampire in the same breath? I must be going crazy,” he thought aloud.  “There are no such things as vampires.  You’ve been through this already Mark, snap out of it.” He didn’t really believe in vampires but what other explanation could there be?  He had a flash of her with fangs fully deployed slowly moving toward his neck.  He remembered the pain that wasn’t pain and then the glorious feelings she inspired.  If she was a vampire, still not believing those things existed, then he didn’t think they were so bad.

He slowly drifted into sleep.  As he slept, the wounds at his throat healed. By the time he awoke, they’d be gone.  What he didn’t realize and wouldn’t for a while, was that he would sleep around the clock.  He’d given her more sustenance this time than the time before.  He would sleep to rejuvenate his body and rebuild his blood supply.  He needed the sleep.  If anyone had seen him now, they would have commented on how pale he looked. Sleep and rest would cure that though.

While he slept, he dreamed.  On awakening, he wouldn’t remember them, but they were kind of frightening while he dreamed them.  Odd, frightening and he wasn’t a person that was easily scared.  Tossing and turning, he threw the covers off and then had to drag them back on as his body grew cold.  He almost seemed as if he were fighting a fever.  Sweat dripping off him, he awoke and staggered to the bathroom.  Blearily he looked at himself in the mirror and was shocked at what he saw.  He looked horrible.  Washing his face in cool water, he staggered back to his bedroom and fell across the bed, only to fall into another nightmare, as sleep washed over him.

Sometime later he awoke, sun streaming in his window, feeling like death warmed over.  As he made his way out of the bedroom, he stumbled over the mess left from last night.  After showering and shaving, he felt much better, not quite so much like something the cat dragged in.  His weakness seemed to have disappeared and his skin was it’s normal healthy color.  He actually felt quite good.

Moving back to his bedroom, he shrank from the rank smell of dried sweat.  He leaned over and stripped the bed of the bedclothes, rolling them into a ball and tossing them by the door.  After remaking the bed and straightening the room, he made his way to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.  Looking at the living room, he still couldn’t believe the mess they’d made last night.  Cleaning that up took a little longer.  When he was finished, the coffee was done and he made his way to his front door to pick up the newspaper to read while he drank his morning coffee.

He was surprised to find two newspapers laying in front of his door.  “That’s strange,”  he thought. “Now why would there be two papers?  Oh that must be someone else’s that was dropped here by mistake.” He bent down and picked them up and went back inside his apartment.

As he shook the papers open, they fell from his hands to the floor.  No mistake, they were for two different days.  His hands shook as he reached down to pick them up again.  Yesterday’s paper and the one for today.  “But....yesterday Eliza was here, wasn’t she,” he asked himself.  Putting on the radio, he heard the date and time and knew for a fact, he’d lost a whole day.

Throwing the paper down, the one on the top had headlines that screamed, "Prominent Business Man Murdered in Bed!" was revealed.