Chapter 1, Book 2 of The Dreamer
Predatory Prey        by     dolphininthesky

***Note: This is a continuation of the first book of The Dreamer. That should be read first. ****

For the rest of my stories, click here /~dolphininthesky/

story code: mf, first

    He sat at the bar, in a corner of the crowded establishment known as Mahoney's. He was just another customer, nursing his beer alone. He wasn't bad looking, and he did not appear particularly seedy or disreputable. In fact, he was the regular man on the street. You could imagine him working in your office, or teaching at your school, or living in the house next door. But he had strange eyes that would have unsettled anyone who cared to look closely at him. They had a hard, flinty glint; a greedy, ravenous desire; a cold, menacing gleam. But few patrons gave him a second glance. Apart from the look in his eyes, he was just the ordinary man in the street. Unnoticed, they glittered as he casually and calculatively surveyed the other drinkers in the bustling Irish pub, searching hungrily for a particular type of person. This bar was strategically opened opposite a popular backpacker's inn and a steady stream of young, trendy travellers never failed to make their way here in the evenings. Among these, there was always the lone female traveler - the one who left her friends behind in the last city, or perhaps had dallied a bit longer in this city whilst her travelling companions had moved on. Young European college girls out to see the world. Petite Asians, barely out of their teens, travelling the West on a shoe-string budget. And the occasional runaway from home.

He had seen and met many such girls. Approaching them carefully. Slowly befriending them. Lulling them into a false sense of security. Luring them deeper and deeper. When the trap sprung, it was too late. He was cautious, often lying low for months at a time. He hopped from bar to bar, pub to pub, tavern to tavern randomly. He would let his prey go if there was even the slightest chance of things going wrong. And he did the job cleanly - no semen, no saliva, and usually, no body. Watching the crowd with a silent calm belied only by the intensity of his eyes - it was the intensity of a mousing cat watching a hole - he began to single out potential targets. His experienced eye could even tell which ones were the struggling wildcats, which ones would resign themselves to their fate and cry silently, which ones would give the strongest responses to pain. It wasn't just the sex he craved. He wanted the fear in their eyes. Their begging pleas. Their screams.

Tonight, he was lucky. The girl dropped into the seat next to him at the bar and ordered a drink. She was bone tired, as she had been out sight-seeing all day - the zoo and museum brochures and a street map sticking out of her jacket pocket told him that. She was gorgeous, even his jaded eye had to admit. She was young, barely in her twenties. Her hair was shimmering platinum, bordering on silver, and it cascaded down her slender  back, reaching her derriere. And what a work of art those gently swelling moons were. The roundness was soft and yielding, yet beneath the surface were supple and well toned muscles. Under her woolen sweater, her breasts jutted out coyly, pert and perfect; neither too large as to be wanton, nor were they too small to be found wanting in size. Her face was strikingly attractive. He was going to relish watching it distorted with fear and pain.

He struck up an idle conversation with her and found out she had a name as cute as her face - Lisette. As he turned on the charm, she gradually relaxed. And after a drink or two, her tongue loosened and she was soon telling him her life story - how she was fed up with college and was using her savings from years of babysitting and part-time clerical work to go traveling and was not expected home for another six months. How she had quarelled with her friend and traveling companion and had left that bitch fuming three cities away. And how her first day in this city had been a complete disaster because she was so bad at directions - it was her friend who usually handled that side of things. He made the appropriate sympathetic noises and he regaled her with stories of all the interesting places to visit in the city. The scenic spots, the shopping districts, the limestone caves just a little way outside the city, the beautiful lake and historic towns just a little to the south and so on. By nine pm, they were best of friends and he was her free-of-charge tour guide for the next couple of days. It was then, that he offered to take her to a scenic lookout on a hill just outside the city - Standard Hill, it was called. It had a beautiful view of the city skyline. It was best seen at night, when the skyscrapers and countless skyscrapers were all ablaze with lights and the surrounding suburbs were a carpet of twinkling jewels spread out around the city as far as the eye could see. Lisette was immediately eager to see it.

He told her to wait a bit whilst he went to get his car from the parking lot. She could come out five minutes later and he would be waiting for her across the street. He got up, paid the bill and made sure he was seen leaving alone. Five minutes later, the young girl left and was picked up by a car on the other side of the street. The beers had left her giddy headed and she laughed and giggled all the way. When they had ascended that winding road and reached the Standard Hill scenic lookout, she oohed and ahhed at the pretty scenery. To her delight, the man produced a pack of beer and the two of them drank as they enjoyed the view. She downed the beers without hesitation, and the pills he had slipped into the cans with it. After a while, he helped Lisette to her feet and took her down one of the dimly lit paths that criss-crossed the hill. He told her he knew a spot with an even better view. And it was well hidden and secluded, it was his own secret place, a place he had never shown anyone else before. She giggled and trustingly let him lead her onwards, her brain addled by alcohol and drugs.

Standard Hill was a sort botanical garden. It was one of the last green lungs of the city and the sprawling parklands were covered with dense foliage broken only by the garden paths and the little secluded clearings and leafy arbors. At this time of the night, the park was mostly deserted and they met no one as he led the the tottering girl to his little secret garden. Pushing through a thick bush and passing through a dense thicket, the two of them emerged in a small clearing some way off the main path. Bathed in the silvery light of the risen moon, it had an otherworldly beauty. It was a secret place - silent and away from the world. And it was true that the view was even better here, as it was further up the hill. Lisette's eyes widened at the quiet beauty of the place and she clapped her hands in glee, thanking him for bringing her there. He laughed in his heart at her wide-eyed innocence. She still had not caught on to his game.

At the end of the clearing was a sheer cliff wall that faced the city. And in that cliff, nature had eroded a small, shallow cave. Lisette followed as he led her inside, where it was dry and fairly clean; it looked like he came here often. Fumbling behind a rock, he produced a some candles, which he lighted and two cans of beer. Together, they sat down side by side. The candles made it all the more romantic. She giggled and turned away as he tried to kiss her, her hands pushing him away. So she's playing hard to get, he laughed to himself. He loved coy, teasing bitches. Breaking them was so satisfying. He caught her small hands with his own strong and powerful ones and leaned towards her. He pushed her to the rocky ground and pinned her hands over her head. Lisette giggled playfully, squirming underneath his body.

Suddenly, Lisette felt coarse, strong ropes binding her hands. She struggled instinctively but it was useless as he pinned her down with his weight. He finished tying the knots to restrain her hands. 'Kinky!' she murmured softly. He gave a low laugh. The little cunt still had not caught on! He loved the moment when uncertainty crossed their face and their eyes began to show fear as he became rougher and rougher. He wondered how far he could take it before her face crumpled when she realised that he was going to rape her. And kill her afterwards too. And if he was in the mood, rape her lifeless body again. He picked up a candle, the wax was already dripping down the sides. He brought it near her face. For starters, he was going to drip the hot wax onto the delicate skin on her neck. It would be the first of the unending terrors she would face tonight. A blunt knife, a corksrew and a collection of needles were the other toys he used and they lay hidden behind a rock. He brought them out and put them on the ground beside her where she could see them. His lips curled up in a sneer as he watched her expression in the flickering, rosy light.

Strange. Her large eyes were clear and unclouded by fear. She had a faint smile on her rosy lips. Almost as though she was amused. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled as the sneer froze on his face. A pounding headache blossomed without warning from the depths of his brain; it gripped and throttled him with vengeance. His eyes widened. And the world went black.


*************************************


    As the night progressed, the gibbous moon slowly rose in its celestial dance. In a deserted clearing, a steep cliff rose out of the ground and a dark cave was carved into the otherwise smooth cliff wall. The clear moonlight crossed the cave floor slowly, like silvery fingers creeping along inch by inch. As they progressed, they began to reveal a dark bundle crumpled on the rocky floor - a man's body. And crouched above it, was one hidden in the shadows. The man's breathing was shallow and laboured, his chest heaving as he struggled to inhale. The normal human eye would not have seen the myriad faintly glowing tendrils that waved and shook as they struggled to break free from the collapsed human heap. It would not have seen the ethereal tendrils flit and float away towards the shadow above the man, where they disappeared suddenly, swallowed up by the darkness.

But the observer of this scene did not have the normal human eye. The cave was suddenly darkened by a figure that appeared at the mouth. Framed by the moonlight, it was a slender silhouette, but undoubtedly a female one - the silvery light outlined the sides of her lush breasts in the narrow gap between her arms and her body. She moved, and the metallic clicking of of the hammer cocking broke the silence of the night. The shadow in the cave shifted, as though looking up, and for a brief moment, two eyes focused on the newcomer. They gleamed, red and predatory. But they were gone in a flash even as a thunderous roar reverberated through the little cave. The man's unconscious body jerked as heavy bullets bit into him, missing the shadow that had been there only a milisecond before. The figure standing at the cave mouth did not pause for an instant as she emptied her .500 Magnum into the close confines of the shallow cave. 

'That will be the last human you murder!' the figure whispered through gritted teeth as her fire-spitting gun swiftly tracked the flitting shadow. Just as the fifth and final round left the sleek ten-inch barrel, the shadow arrived at the cave mouth. A small hand, pale and fragile, shot out of the darkness as though stabbing at the female gunman. But she was not fooled by the apparently innocent and harmless hand. Those delicate, girlish fingers, tipped with carefully manicured nails, would have no trouble ripping the beating heart out of her chest cavity.

She leapt backwards like a lithe panther, narrowly escaping the counterattack. The tip of a nail barely grazed the front of her snug t-shirt. But even as she was leaping backwards, the spent handgun was already back in its holster and her arms were already drawing another weapon from the scabbard tied to her back. A rasping sound and four feet of cold steel shimmered in the air, darting forward to strike the hand that had attacked her. Her counterattack began even as she retreated. The blade sang through the air, missing its target as the hand withdrew as quickly as it had struck. Landing on her feet, she regarded the darkened cave mouth warily, keeping the sword between her and it. From within the cave, a voice came, 'Murder? I'm afraid you beat me to it. I wasn't quite finished with him when you filled him with lead...'

'Show yourself, vampyrr!' the figure outside the cave called out, sweat beading on her brow. Regret gnawed at her. She had not expected to miss and hit the victim instead of the vampyrr. The fact that all five shots had missed was even more stunning.

From the deep shadows, a young girl stepped out. Her face was flushed and lovely, full of the life it had just feasted on. 'Are you tonight's after dinner entertainment, huntress?' she asked. Her laughter was full of girlish mirth, like a tinkling bell. Her long hair glowed silver in the moonlight, shimmering as the night breeze fingered it playfully. The one who had shot at her, the one she called huntress, was an altogether different type of creature. Whilst the vampyrr was fair and petite, like a dainty blossom, the huntress was tall and well-built, with a proud, almost Amazonian figure. The vampyrr was fairly complected - almost a glowing white - and was beautiful in an almost ethereal way. Standing there in the moonlight, she looked like a nymph or apparition of the night. The huntress, in contrast, was dark haired and olive skinned, her features exotic. Recognition flashed across the huntress' dusky eyes as she regarded the beautiful young girl standing across her.

'Lisette Silfer!' she exclaimed in a low voice. She had stumbled across the foul vampyrie feeding and had not expected it to be one from the powerful vampyrric House Silfer. She knew their faces and names by heart, having studied the intelligence that had been gathered with the diligence of one who knew their life might well depend on that information. Her mind went to the second .500 Magnum revolver in the other holster. She had not drawn that as she had not expected all five rounds to miss - the youngest apprentice of the old Lord Silfer was much more dangerous and powerful compared to the usual vampyrie the huntress hunted. But at least the sound of the shots would quickly draw the other hunters here. She hoped she would survive that long.

Lisette Silfer replied mockingly, 'And you are Lara Croft, I presume?' A snug, grey T-shirt, shorts that clung to her (she wore them only because they did not restrict her motion in battle), a love for oversized handguns, not to mention a similar bust size - she was the fictional character in the flesh. To Lisette's further amusement, the huntress actually blushed. Which meant a loss of concentration.

The vampyrr suddenly seemed to blur. And then, the huntress realised Lisette was in front of her already. Her sword swung, hissing through the air. Few things in this world could stop a vampyrr. But then, there are few things that four feet of Damascus steel could not stop. It also explained the heavy calibre handguns, large game rifles and variety of shotguns hunters typically used. Anything with less stopping power would be like pelting peanuts at them. To her surprise, the vampyrr did not dodge. Instead, her left arm extended as though she intended to parry the sword with her bare hands. The huntress almost chuckled out loud - just let her try that!

As her sword connected with Lisette's bare hands, the huntress immediately realised that something was amiss. Her sword felt as though it had hit something soft, cottony, almost without form. It was like cutting snow. She saw the blade stop half an inch above the vampyrr's hand, unable to penetrate further even as she put all her strength into it. Stunned, she quickly attempted to retreat, but it was too late. The vampyrr's right hand had continued the attack even as her left hand blocked the sword. The huntress felt a cold breeze hit her chest as that dainty but ever so deadly hand arrived.

Just then, a shot rang out. The vampyrr was gone in an instant. To her left and right, she heard the sounds of the other seven hunters in her pack crash through the undergrowth and emerge in the clearing. One of them had fired on the vampyrr and saved her life. It fled towards the thicket behind her, attempting to escape as it saw that it was outnumbered by the arriving hunters. The huntress' instincts acted even before she was aware of it. Her hand dropped to her holster and her second gun slid out like a striking serpent. The fleeing figure stumbled for a moment as the shot rang out.

Lisette Silfer felt the bullet graze her shoulder. But her luck that night only worsened. As she fled into the thicket, a hunter suddenly emerged from the bushes right in front of her. One of the hunters in the pack had circled round to cut off her escape and she had run straight into him! The tall, well-built man leapt out, his right arm extended, palm opened and facing her. In the middle of his palm was a complex sigil tattooed or painted on. As his hand swung at her, the sigil on the palm distorted and blurred, the lines seemed to move - as though it were alive. Her hand extended reflexively to block and deflect the blow. Simultaneously she concentrated and she felt the energy flow out of her Source with practiced ease, flowing into her arm, escaping the surface of her hand and collecting there in a dense, near-solid layer. Even sharp steel could not break through the layer of energy collected about her hand, as evidenced by her earlier encounter with the huntress' sword.

But the moment her hand made contact with the hunter's palm, Lisette Silfer sensed immediately that something was wrong. Her protective layer of energy dissipated like mist and the force of the blow caught her off guard. She stumbled backwards but quickly steadied herself. Without pausing to think, she counterattacked but the hunter dodged it with ease. As he sidestepped her blow, she saw an opening. Hearing the other hunters quickly approaching behind her, she abandoned the hunter and fled, disappearing into the dense foliage. She ran like the wind, putting as much distance as she could between herself and the hunter pack. She could easily take on a hunter or two. But facing an entire pack was not something she relished. And that hunter she had exchanged blows with just before her escape frightened her. Why had her energy shield collapsed? As she thought, the dull ache in her shoulder called for her attention. She knew a bullet had scraped her as she was leaving. It was not a serious wound although she was bleeding profusely from the cut. Could the injury have caused her energy to fail her? It was the only explanation although it seemed an unlikely one.

She could not hear the hunters behind her. Casting her mind outwards, she tried to sense their positions. Hunters were for some reason immune to the mental manipulation that worked so well on normal humans - such as that sleazy rapist who had brought her to Standard Hill tonight. But she could still detect where their minds were, even if she could not penetrate the barrier that protected it. She had heard that the hunters called that protection their Blessing. She breathed a sigh of relief as she found them - they were a fair way behind. Suddenly, a splitting headache hit her. Lisette Silfer stumbled, and nearly fell. She reached out to a tree trunk to steady herself and as she did that, a pattern imprinted on the back of her hand caught her eye. Surprised, she looked at it closely.

It was the same pattern that had been on the palm of the hunter. Had the paint or whatever it was smeared off his hand onto hers during their brief struggle? She rubbed at it but it would not come off. Fear chilled her as she saw the lines on the strange and complex sigil move slightly but perceptibly. As the symbol writhed slowly on her hand she watched it with horror and fascination. What was this? She knew a bit about the strange ways of the hunters of the Fellowship - but this - was this sorcery? Her eyes blurred with tears as her headache intensified. She took a few more steps forward and sprawled on the ground, her knees failing her.

She panicked. She had to get up and get out of here! They would find her if they came this way. She willed herself to stand up. She was confused. Except for the minor wound on her shoulder, she had been alright until a minute ago. Her mind was red with pain as she stumbled forward, unable to think clearly, unable to see where she was going. All she knew was that she had to get away ! She staggered like a drunk, grasping at trees and low branches, trying to prevent herself from falling. Pain streaked up the hand that was marred by that hunter symbol, it shot up her spine and hit her brain with vengeance. She could barely hold a coherent thought in her mind. Her foot slipped as it stepped into air. The world spun and the last conscious thought she had was that she was rolling down a grassy slope.


*************************************


The huntress sagged with relief as the rest of the pack flooded into the clearing. She looked down involuntarily at where the vampyrr's hand had been aiming for. She almost expected to see a bloody, gaping hole; her chest torn open. If the shot from one of the arriving hunters had come half a second later, that would have been the case. The tip of its nail had scratched her shirt just before the vampyrr had been forced into retreat by the gunshot. The huntress' shirt was torn, and there was a faint trickle of blood from a minor scratch. She sighed in relief, her large breasts expanding as she did so.

She looked up and gave a nod of thanks to the hunter who had fired the shot that saved her life. He nodded, then blushed and averted his eyes - both her shirt and the sports bra that hugged her form  was torn and she revealed more skin in the vicinity of her chest than her usual utilitarian style of dressing did. The damaged bra struggled valiantly to contain her lushness. She blushed too and turned away to give chase to the fleeing vampyrr. As the group of eight hunters and huntresses, including herself, entered the thicket that the vampyrie had fled into, they saw a tall man waiting for them. As one, they respectfully touched their right hand to their chest in the hunter salute.

'She will not last long,' the tall man told them calmly, 'I have cast the Rune of Ruination on her. If we spread out and search in that direction, we'll find her body,'  One of the hunters gave a whoop and her spirits were lifted too as she heard that.

'You heard the Packleader. Let's go!' another said.

As she passed the Packleader, he said to her, 'Are you alright, Valkyrie?'

She nodded gratefully. He smiled, 'You did well. That was a Silfer wasn't it? She was using the Silfer energy glove.'

Valkyrie, the huntress, nodded, 'I think that was Lisette of House Silfer.' She understood now why her sword had been so easily blocked by the vampyrr's bare hands. She remembered that one of the techniques of the Silfers was the 'energy glove'. They were able to manipulate energy such that it wrapped itself like a layer of cloth around their hands, forming a dense, invisible, protective covering. It was one of many such 'tricks' vampyrie could do with energy. Each vampyrric House had special techniques that gave them an edge over other vampyrie - for they were not the most harmonious of societies and often jostled and fought for leadership over their peers - and these techniques were closely guarded secrets known only to members of their own House. The five Great Houses were perhaps the best known and were widely acknowledged as the leaders of the vampyrie kind. And House Silfer was one of the leading houses among the five.

The pack fanned out and began to search the wooded area methodically. They did not hurry - and with good reason. The Rune of Ruination was one of the most ancient and powerful weapons of the Fellowship, passed down through countless generations of hunters since the age of the First Men. When a vampyrr was struck by the Rune, it would slowly leach its way into them, dissipating the energy that filled these vampyrie and which was the source of their powers. Ultimately, the Rune would strip away every defense and work its way into their minds. Within the hour, they would become unconscious and within a day, the Rune would cause their minds to fragment and disintegrate - bit by bit they would lose their power of thought, their memories and in the painful end, their lives. It was also a very difficult weapon to master, and only the most powerful hunters were able to use it - someone like their Packleader.

They slowly - almost leisurely - searched the parklands for the vampyrr Lisette Silfer. If they found her too early, the Rune would not have had time to act and they would have to battle her. But if they found her after the Rune had done sufficient work, she would be as weak and powerless as a kitten. As she searched, Valkyrie started reloading her double Magnums. The small but intricately convoluted symbol painted on her right arm caught her eye as she slid new cartridges into the cylinders of her guns. It was different from the rune tattood on the Packleader's palm - much less powerful, but very useful all the same. In the old days, before the hunters had firearms like her pair of babies here - and she patted her large handguns with almost motherly fondness - they had fought the vampyrie with swords and hope. And the Runes.

Unlike the accursed, parasitic vampyrie who sucked energy from humans like leeches, the hunters drew energy from the bountiful wellsprings of great Nature herself. And it was the Runes that enabled them to do so. The strange but geometrically beautiful pattern on her arm enabled her to draw upon  natural energy to enhance the strength and speed of her arm movements. Similar sigils graced her thigh and various parts of her body, though they were mostly well concealed. It was a small rune, painted on her temple and hidden by her raven locks, that enabled her to 'see' the flows of energy and to distinguish vampyrie from humans - vampyrie literally glowed with power. The energy in vampyrie also had a distinct signature that marked it to be of human origin, vastly different from the natural energy that hunters could draw from their surroundings. The differences did not stop there. Whilst vampyrie stored the energy they stole from human victims within themselves, hunters drew energy as and when they needed it. They did not, and could not, keep it within their bodies for any amount of time.

She thought that perhaps this explained why vampyrie had much greater control over their energy compared to hunters. Of course the very basic nature of the energy the two sides used was completely different as well - the energy from human bodies versus the energy latent in the air, water and earth. She wondered at how the vampyrie were able to manipulate energy in so many amazing ways, such as using it to enhance their mind, giving them powers of mental control and telepathy; using it in energy attacks and for defense, like the energy glove Lisette had used earlier. Hunters, on the other hand, were limited to using the natural energy that they drew using the Runes to enhance their physical strength, speed and agility. The Rune of Ruination was one of few exceptions. These ancient runes the First Men had handed down to them were the one thing that gave a measure of balance to the age old struggle between the hunters of the Fellowship and the superhuman vampyrie. But even with the Runes, vampyrie were still so much more powerful. Thankfully, the hunters had the advantage of numbers. Such was the delicate balance of power that had been maintained for millenia between the Hunters of the Fellowship of Man and the vampyrric kind.
 
Suddenly, a shadow up ahead caught her eye, breaking her out of her reverie. She scolded herself for not concentrating on the job. Her father would have scolded her too, were he hunting with the pack as he usually did - he was still convalescing from his injuries a month earlier. Valkyrie steeled her nerves and drew her sword slowly. As she did so, her mind focused. Immediately, the runes on her arms and legs tingled and seemed to grow hotter. Strength surged into her veins, energizing her. The rune on her temple itched for a moment and her eyesight seemed to sharpen. The energy lines came into focus. She gritted her teeth as what she saw confirmed her suspicions. The figure ahead had an energy signature like an exploding magnesium flashbulb. It was a vampyrr, no doubt. But what galled her even more was the fact that beyond the bushes that the figure was hiding behind, there were two normal humans lying on the grass. From these two, energy tendrils streamed out towards the vampyrr. The whole pack was hunting for her and Lisette Silfer was here, busy feeding, with complete disregard for them! It was as though she dismissed them as a non-threat!

Valkyrie approached the shadow that was crouched in the bushes with cat-like stealth, her sword poised to strike. The figure did not notice her at all. Perhaps the Rune the Pakcleader had cast on her was beginning to dull her senses. It had probably dulled her mind too. Either that or she was mocking the Fellowship by stopping to leisurely feed on some humans whilst they chased her. That galled Valkyrie more than she wanted to admit. The fact that she had been bested earlier was a blow to her pride. And this seemingly mocking gesture was the last straw.

Contrary to popular myth, a stake through the heart was not strictly necessary. But for the poetic justice of it, she would stake this one with four feet of cold steel, classic Bram Stoker style. Standing several feet behind the vampyrr, the sword shot towards the vampyrr's back. The vampyrr stayed motionless still. Valkyrie rejoiced silently as her sword slid forward like viper going in for a swift, silent kill.


*************************************


David Turner lay back, stretched out lazily on the springy grass that lushly carpeted the gentle slope. Up here on Standard Hill, you could see the city laid out before you like a Google Earth map. At this time in the evening, he had a bird's eye-view of the city's six pm gridlock. He smiled to himself as he watched the distant, wispy cirrus clouds twist and deform as high altitude winds whipped them far above in the rose tinged evening sky. Hmm... that one was shaped rather like a dolphin, he thought idly to himself.

The rat-race, the rush hour - all that seemed so long ago, it was like a past life. In fact it had only been a month since he had quit his job with West, West and Eastman. Back then, lying on the grass on a weekday, watching the clouds slowly waltz by would have been quite unthinkable. But thanks to Mandy and his new-found skills, his fattened bank account could easily support him and his... his girls. He wasn't sure what he should call them. The strange, four-way relationship he had with Mandy, Julie and Becky seemed to bother them less than it did him.

Julie hadn't wanted to quit her job though. She liked to work. To achieve something with her own ability, her own skills. Which was one of the many qualities that made her more than just physically attractive, David felt. She was a strong, independent woman. Though she did have a submissive side buried somewhere inside, David thought to himself with a smile. He remembered his experiment some months earlier when he had deprived her of the big-O for days whilst he teased and tittilated her endlessly, driving her to distraction and drawing out her 'hidden depths' - a submissiveness to  domination that was quite out of character in the headstrong girl. The experiment had been for more productive purposes than that of course, and it had been a success. By holding off on her pleasure and allowing it to build, she had released a torrent of sexual energy far greater than that achieved by normal means.

It was this sexual energy that powered the abilities that had been awakened in David. He recalled with clarity that day some months ago when he had found himself inside Mandy's dream. He hadn't known her then and he had thought the dream was just that - a dream. When he discovered that he had actually been inside her mind, it had come as quite a shock. It was only several days and many tentative experiments later that the one who had awakened the potential in David introduced itself. Calling itself the Artifact, the ancient entity told David that it had survived millenia drifting from mind to mind in the depths of the sea. Entering David's mind entirely by accident, it set about reviving the Empire of old - that long forgotten Golden Age when the world had been united under the one Emperor, who ruled the people's of the earth with powers unrivalled since. The source of such power, and the foundation of that empire of antiquity had been the energies of the human body. Within each body, David learned, there existed a myriad of energies, each differing in type and function. They governed the functions of organs and biological systems and if any of these energies were out of balance, they could cause diseases and sicknesses of body and mind. Chief amongst these energies, was mental energy - the energy that illuminated the mind and gave humankind the faculties of thought, emotion, creativity that elevated them above the base animal nature.

Whilst a certain level of this mental energy existed within the normal human, increased levels were able to heighten the potential of the human mind, giving it abilities above and beyond what was possible previously. The powerhouse that stored this energy was the Source, which David had come to visualize as a ball of light and fire that he could sense hidden away deep in his mind. Under the Artifact's instruction, David learned to feed and expand his Source by absorbing certain types of energy. It was only the sexual energy of a female that was suitable for this. David learnt to draw the energy released from an aroused female and unite it with his own male sexual energy - the result was a harmonized hybrid energy superior to the other energy types within the human body. It was this result of mating male and female, light and dark, yin and yang that David filled his Source with. And as his store of energy increased, so did his abilities. At first, he had been unable to enter another mind without first sinking into a deep sleep himself. But as his power grew, he was soon able to do so even when he was awake - which made it a lot more convenient. At present, he could manipulate another person's emotions and plant suggestions in their minds. Whilst outright mind-control remained, at the moment anyway, in the realm of fiction, he'd had much success entering and manipulating the simpler minds of animals.

Expanding his Source was slow work. Whilst he had four willing females for that, each coupling with them only yielded a trickle of energy. He learnt that the orgasm of a virgin as she was deflowered yielded the largest release of energy, but how many virgins could he deflower? Of his four friends, only Mandy was still a virgin, and he liked her to remain that way for a little longer. He certainly couldn't go around taking every virgin female he laid eyes on, despite the Artifact egging him on to do just that. He already felt that he was shortchanging Mandy, Julie and Becky. He felt that he didn't deserve their affections. They gave themselves wholeheartedly to him, but he could only offer a third of his heart to each of the three.

But there was a workaround. The Artifact wasn't quite satisfied with it - its views were that the Emperor it had installed should have a harem of a thousand wives and ten thousand concubines. But it was the most practical method David could think of and his energy Source had increased by leaps and bounds since he had started. For that, he had his 'Generals' to thank. As 'Emperor', his 'Generals' had been faithfully adding to his strength through their regular 'conquests' and 'victories'. David chuckled ruefully. He still wasn't all that comfortable with the idea, but it was a compromise that worked. Ah, and here was one of his valiant generals now...

David could detect a familiar mind approching the spot where he lay. It was that of Ryan Phillips, the enemy of every girl's virginity. He, and those like him, preyed on the young and innocent, the inexperienced and the vulnerable. They broke hearts and hymens by the dozen and changed girlfriends the way people changed their clothes - discarding the soiled and used for fresher, newer ones. Ryan and his school friends literally competed in this cruel sport - the boy with the most virgins under his belt got the most boasting rights. But by keeping tabs on such as these, and turning up whenever they dated a new conquest, David could siphon off the virgin girl's energy as Ryan and his kind had their way with them.

In a regular scan of Ryan's mind earlier today, David had been alerted about tonight's 'entertainment'. Arriving early, he had gone to Ryan's favourite spot to wait. As he sensed Ryan and the pretty young thing he'd brought along approaching, he got up and found a convenient bush to settle down behind. The spot Ryan used regularly was relatively secluded, well-hidden from the main garden paths by a screen of trees and bushes. As the two teenagers entered the clearing, David couldn't help giving the girl an admiring look. Ryan always had impeccable taste in girls but this girl was hot, David thought even as his mind reached out and immersed itself in Ryan's. The sensations, thoughts, feelings - it hit David all at once. He was momentarily disoriented as he found himself looking out through Ryan's eyes. The girl looked back at him. Her eyes were startlingly blue.

Ryan looked at his companion. He had outdone himself this time, he told himself. She was a gem. Sweet sixteen, with a cute heart-shaped face and a perfect body to match, she was a dream. She was easily one of the top three girls he had ever dated - and he had dated quite a few (half the school was probably an exaggeration but it was at least in the same order of magnitude). A girl like her would probably have gone through a string of boyfriends by then, had the normal course of events had their way. But Innocence was brought up in a nunnery, educated in an all-girl's boarding school and had never even held a boy's hand. It hadn't been easy sneaking her out of the dormitory for their night trysts. And getting her to let him touch her was an even greater challenge. Actually getting into her panties was a near impossibility. But he rose to the challenge.

Ryan loved how she would shyly try to pull her hand away when he held it. And she shivered and blushed so easily when he just pecked her cheek. And when he tried to kiss those honeyed lips, she would turn beet-red and push him away. Oh, she wanted it - he could see that in her eyes - but she thought it was wrong before they got married. She actually thought he was going to marry her some day! That really cracked Ryan up. Bastard, David said. Ryan fidgeted uneasily when that word popped into his mind. It was strange, but these days, he got these really disconcerting thoughts all of a sudden. It usually happened when he was plotting to bed a girl with the intent to dump her afterwards. Ryan didn't have a conscience, or had suffocated it years ago, so the concept of a voice telling him not to do something heartless was a new one.  Sometimes, the voice took the form of old Grandma Phillips threatening him with a hickory switch. Now, that was very disturbing.

He shrugged the feeling away and casually draped an arm around sweet Innocence as they sat shoulder to shoulder on the soft, grassy cushion. She smiled when she saw him looking at her. He was stunned for a moment. Her smile was simple, honest and guileless. It disarmed him completely. For a moment, he looked away, a strange feeling inside; one he hadn't felt for years since his mom and dad disappeared, leaving him in his uncle's care. Ryan leaned over and kissed her softly, trying to distract himself from the strange thoughts and feelings he was having to night. As he nuzzled her cheeks, her nose, her soft lips, his hands rubbed her shoulders soothingly. She gave a soft sigh. His hands dropped lower and she sighed again, but this time from regret. Innocence tried to push his hands away.

'Ryan.... you know we can't..' she said reluctantly.

'Just a little touch? Be a sweetheart... ' he whispered into her ear, his breath caressing her sensitive lobes.

She shivered, her face heating up at the close proximity of their bodies. His fingers idly tracing her collarbone, poised to go south if she relented. And how she wanted, yearned to relent. To nod and say yes. She shook her head and said softly, 'No Ryan.... I.. I want to save myself for our marriage... don't you think that would be so much better?'

'It would be, sweetheart,' Ryan agreed. He didn't of course. But he knew every trick in the book girls used to put off sex. And he knew how to counter every one of them. He sighed deeply. 'I know it would be so much better that way. But.. you're just so beautiful, I can't resist it... How about just a little touch? I won't go further...'

Innocence blushed again, her heart beating faster. 'I... I really do want to let you... let you... but.. I'm just afraid I won't be able to stop once you start.' She lowered her head, not daring to look up at him.

'If we keep our clothes on, then we won't go too far, sweetheart,' Ryan said, nuzzling her hair. She shivered again as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. His index finger ran up her collarbone to her neck, stroking tenderly. She said hesitantly, 'You.. you promise we'll keep all our clothes on?'

It would be alright wouldn't it? If they kept their clothes on, they wouldn't go too far, she thought to herself. The way he kissed her and touched her neck and arms felt so good, even though it made her feel so guilty afterwards. She couldn't imagine what it would be like to let his hands slowly roam over her unspoiled body.

'Cross my heart and hope to die,' Ryan said before he stifled any further excuses she might have by capturing her lips with his. His large hands closed over her mounds, stroking them like one would stroke a frightened kitten. She was larger than he realised. She kept them well hidden under her clothes. Through the fabric of her blouse and bra, Ryan painstakingly sought out her nipples. His fingers lingered over them for a long time, awakening them, making them jut out, aching for his attention. His palms massaged and explored her fullness unhurriedly. In his hiding place, David nodded to himself. Ryan's methodology had improved a great deal since he first knew him. He used to be too impatient, caring only for his own pleasure. These days, he was beginning to take his time to savour her and to let her savour him.

Suddenly, Innocence felt his hands undoing the bra clasp behind her back through her blouse. 'Mmmfff...' her protest was muffled by his mouth. It was hard to say a thing when someone's tongue is tangled with yours. She felt her bra pushed up and his hands closed once more over the soft bunnies on her chest. This time, only the cotton fabric of her blouse lay between her lush swells and his knowing hands. Innocence's initial panic calmed as she thought to herself, it's okay, it's okay... I'm still dressed. We still have our clothes on, its alright isn't it... Ryan promised...

It was early autumn, and the cold weather hadn't quite set in, so her blouse wasn't all that thick. The sensations his hands gave her intensified without the bra getting in the way. Suddenly, he withdrew from her mouth. Looking straight at her, he continued to fondle her intimate area. She was too shy to look at him, so she cast her eyes downwards. But that meant looking at his hands lewdly groping her. She turned the colour of beet and looked up again. He was laughing.

'Look at me and tell me how it feels,' he said. He began rolling her pink caps between his fingers through the shirt. Her lips parted and a gasp escaped. Her eyes searched his face in confusion. How did he know how to do that?

'Like it?' he asked. She nodded almost imperceptibly. His hands changed their tactics and he asked her again. She was always too shy to give much of a reply, but the expression on her face, the quickening of her breath, and the throbbing of her heartbeat beneath his hands - they told him all he needed to know. Suddenly, Ryan's head dipped and he latched his mouth onto her left breast. As he ground her nips between upper and lower lip, his saliva made her cotton blouse slick and wet, making it stick to her.

'Oh!' she cried out involuntarily at the sudden, unexpected action. Her hands flew to his head. She didn't know what to do. She thought only babies suckled their mothers. What was Ryan doing? But, it felt soooo goooood.... she closed her eyes, her body slowly falling backwards till she lay on the grass, his rapacious mouth feeding on her bosom. His body half on top of her, pressing her down. Every muscle felt loosened and relaxed. She had a wicked thought - she imagined herself completely naked before him as he suckled her like an infant. Ohhh... she moaned, as guilt attacked her. How could she think such a thing. How could she let him do even this? Even though they were fully clothed, what they were doing wasn't right.... Her hands reached out, trembling, as she sought to disentangle herself from Ryan's indecent embrace.

Just as Innocence found the strength to push Ryan away, a sudden wave of pleasure engulfed her with no prior warning, sweeping away everything in a mighty tide - her thoughts, her will and the resolve she had only a moment ago. It turned out that Ryan's oral attentions to her lush breasts were really a cover for the main attack. Whilst he spoiled her young virginal breasts with the laving from his tongue bath, his hand had surreptitiously crept up her leg, stealing beyond her conservative, two-inches-below-the-knee hemline. In the face of his frontal attack, Innocence barely noticed his fingers as they brushed lightly against her milky thighs under her skirt. Just as she had found the determination to tell him they were going too far, his questing hands had found her well guarded maidenhood. It was veiled in white - the spotless, virginal white of her panties. Innocence nearly fainted when Ryan's finger lightly stroked the soft, white mound.

Her mind froze. The strong protest that she wanted to make was stuck in her throat.

He stroked it again, running over it as lightly as a flitting snowflake. The hands that should be giving him a stinging slap sank to her sides, weak and limp.

He stroked it once more, his finger delving deeper through the thin cotton this time. The fabric of her panties outlined the full, engorged lips hidden down there.

He stroked it a third time, gently patting her deliriously happy and swollen button through the fragile and delicate cloth. Her panties were virginal white no more. A faint stain, but a stain nevertheless, marred it, the symbol of Innocence lost.

She struggled to speak. Each time she found her words, his finger would lightly wipe it away with a gentle flick. The tips of his fingers found her little puffs, ridges, nubs and folds through the wet cotton, playfully stroking - unhurriedly, deliberately, knowledgeably. At last it occurred to her to try and close her legs.

'Don't.' He stilled her with a word. She writhed uneasily, in shame and pleasure, as her skirt was pulled further up. He admired her beautiful legs with his eyes and hands. Forsaking her moist heat for a moment, he began to caress and massage her legs, her thighs, reaching underneath to mold her tender bottom in his palms. Suddenly, he lowered his mouth to kiss her thighs. The intimacy of this gesture made Innocence shrink back.

'Trust me. We're still wearing all our clothes, right?' he said, looking up with a smile. She hesitated, then nodded. Oh, how sinful she felt with that one nod. She burned with shame at the way her skirt was lifted, her nakedness exposed - exposed not only to his eyes, but to his wicked hands, and that.... that mouth. She could feel his lips creeping downwards so slowly in a drawn-out journey, leaving trails of love bites on her thighs. She was so glad none of her skirts were any shorter than this one. What would the Mother Superior say if she saw the little tell-tale shapes that marked her from her knee to the junture of her thigh and her....

Oh! She bit her lower lip in anguish as Ryan's tongue flicked up and down the tender juncture between her leg and her....

'Uhh.....' a sound, strange to her own ears, escaped her. It sounded as though she was in pain. But it was not pain she felt. It was an indescribable ticklishness at once both dreadful and exquisite. Innocence felt a deep heat bubbling inside. She wanted to close her legs and rub them together to try and alleviate that itching. But his strong hands held them defenselessly apart, exposing her. His tongue began to lap at her most private area. Ryan could taste her sweet muskiness on the white cotton fabric. He lapped at the stain that was slowly spreading, mixing in his saliva with it. In response, her body  released greater amounts of fluid, as though in competition with his saliva. Very quickly, her crotch was sticky and soaked with the sweet and salty mixture. Her panties were heavy with fluid, and nearly transparent. It stuck to her, forming a perfect camel toe, molded to every contour, ridge and bump. Ryan paused to admire his work. He frowned, it still wasn't perfect - but he knew what to do. He pulled at her panties suddenly, stretching it taut and tight over her. True to his promise, Ryan kept all their clothes on - he did not even remove her panties. Instead, he bunched it up and pulled it to and fro, from side to side, tormenting her with the intense friction as it rubbed into her sensitized flesh.

'Nnnnnnnnhh....' she whimpered at the friction of the cloth on her flesh. Her panties, soaked and stretched, began to retreat naturally into the crack. Ryan's inquisitive tongue followed, its pink tip dusting the bits of her that the cloth uncovered as it retreated. He harrassed and harried her, making her squeal and yip as he tasted and sampled her spicy nectar. Seeing her clitoris proudly declaring its mistresses' arousal, Ryan pushed the panties aside and began to flick his tongue onto it. The reaction he got as he tenderized her tortured little pleasure nub with his pounding tongue was as shocking as it was delicious - Innocence was a squirter.

As the first orgasm of her sixteen years boiled over in a violent, bubbling frenzy, Innocence thrashed wildly as though she was having a fit and her little virginal love hole began to respond explosively,  flinging streams of sweet female ejaculate into Ryan's surprised mouth without warning. He gasped and choked as the hot liquid hit his throat. For a second, he thought she had peed into his mouth. Then the taste told him what it really was. Amazed and delighted, he affixed his mouth to her as he continued to lap and gulp hungrily.

Innocence sobbed as the alien and overpowering sensations wracked her body. Every nerve end on her body seemed exposed. She whispered to herself, 'Still dressed, it's ok... still dressed, it's ok...' But just as she thought it couldn't get any stronger, Ryan's finger began to slide inside her. Aided by copious sticky fluids, she felt her tightness open up like a flowering cherry blossom in spring. He began to saw in and out, his finger defying the oppressive pressure, heat and humidity as it drilled a hole into the deep founts of pleasure. His body slid up over hers until they were face to face.

Smiling devilishly, he asked her as he plunged and pulled his index in her pulsating orifice, 'Do you like the tongue or the finger better?' She looked at him, dazed, only semi-comprehension on her face as her mind remained clouded in a thick fog of pleasure. He kissed her tenderly and then suddenly, his strong hands turned her body, flipping her such that she lay on her tummy, her soft pert rear slightly raised.

'Wha...?' she gasped. In a daze, she let him do as he wished with her body. His finger plunged into her moistness from behind as he half lay on top of her, alternating between deep stabbing strokes and shallow dips. Sometimes it pumped into her so quickly she wanted to faint, and at other times, it would drive her crazy with anticipation as it lazily stroked in and out. Her moans filled the night air.

'You do like my finger inside you, don't you?' he whispered into her ear from behind her. Squashed under him, she was helpless as he assaulted her virgin hole.

'Hmmm? Answer me, sweetheart. Do you like me inside you?' he asked again.

'Uhh...... huhh....' she whispered between gasps.

'Is that a yes?' Ryan asked insistently as he suddenly inserted another finger. The stretching sensation made her eyes widen. 'Yessssss.....' she hissed from between clenched teeth as she tried to suppress a loud moan from escaping. She hung her head in shame at her admission. The foreign gasps and moans and whimpered pleadings sounded so wanton. And her body moved of its own accord. Welcoming him, encouraging him, responding to his touch. She moved like a harlot. She even felt like one. But, it felt so indescribably good, so beautifully good, at the same time. Her face burned red and her eyes stung from guilty tears.

Ryan laughed as he pumped two fingers in. 'Are you sure?' he asked, refusing to let her off just yet. She kept silent, refusing to give in. His fingers continued for a little while, every movement eliciting sparks of pleasure. But she stubbornly refused to answer. Suddenly, his fingers withdrew completely, leaving her empty. She waited.

'Are you sure you like me inside?' he asked again softly, his breath heating the back of her ear.

'Nggggggg....' she whimpered in despair. His absent fingers left a terrible void. She needed to be filled again. Desperately. With an urgency she had never felt before. It gnawed at her inner being. The night breeze caressed her upraised bum, tickling her needy slot. It made her sparse and downy pubic fur dance. 'Yess....' she whispered.

'Really?' he asked. She felt his finger, hot and large, stroking up and down her entrance, rubbing into the pearl that sat atop the maidenly gate. She pressed back into him invitingly. 'Yes... yes, Ryan,' she whined.

He laughed again, happily. She didn't know why he teased her so. But she didn't care as his fingers slid in again. Oh. Oh. Ohh. She didn't remember his fingers being this big. Was he putting in three digits? Her womanhood, primed and pumped, swallowed eagerly, expanding to accommodate Ryan. The stretching of her muscles felt good in an entirely new way. Her fingers were longer than they looked, she thought to herself, gasping for breath. It felt hot, meaty and it pulsed powerfully. His fingers seemed much better this time round.

'Do want me deep?' he asked her, his voice strained. He was still teasing her, but she didn't care at this point. 'Deep,' she pleaded. She wanted him to scratch that itch high up inside. It was like a nest of ants had found their way up the slippery highway, thousands of little legs walking around, tickling like crazy. She raised her hips a little without thinking, unconsciously assuming the mating posture of our female canine friends.

Ryan plunged in deep, tearing up the Innocence. And with it Purity and Chastity. Her superfluous panties was pushed to one side, where it continued to bite and pull into her delicates. The pain was a faint background fizzle compared to the grand fireworks of pleasure. Her body jerked. She bucked, her hips undulating as she pushed back into Ryan's 'finger'. Innocence was as her name implied. With her cloistered upbringing, she had little concept of the sexual act between male and female. Lying on her belly, with her haunches in the air, she was unable to see what Ryan was actually pumping into her. Although he was panting and moving his hips vigorously behind her, in her fuck-addled brain, Innocence had yet to put two and two together. Only much later would she realise that Ryan had asked her 'Do you like me inside you?', 'Are you sure you like me inside?' and 'Do want me deep?' He had conveniently dropped the word 'finger' early on, leaving her to blunder on with her own erroneous assumption.

About ten feet away from the passionate lovemaking, hidden behind a bush, David was finding it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. The primary reason for his presence was to harvest the explosion of energy derived from Innocence's virgin coupling. But from experience, he knew that Ryan sometimes suffered from 'overexcitement', leading to him finishing premature, leaving his partner unsated and unfinished. That would be terrible waste for David, as it would mean the powerful release of sexual energy that occurred when a virgin came during her deflowering would not happen at all. For this reason, David usually became a third participant to their activities. Within Ryan's mind, he could help control Ryan's arousal such that he could ensure Ryan's partner orgasmed before he did.

But his immersion into Ryan's mind also meant that he experienced the full range of sensations coming from Ryan's body. This included the punishing constriction that wrapped itself around Ryan's heated member like a G-clamp dripping hot oil. It included the sight of the flawless, white moons that quivered before him as Ryan banged Innocence from behind. It included the sight of her panties - still on - bunched to one side to make way for the veined, bulging tool that squelched in and out between the hugging pink petals. There was also the sight of her winking netherhole. His eyes moved along her shapely back - still clothed, though the shirt clung to her sweaty shoulders. His eyes traveled up to her slender neck, rising beautifully out of her collar, and to her tousled hair, which hung in soft, flaxen locks. Her faint gasps and helpless moans filled his ears.

Ryan leaned forward and kissed her back, running his hands over her shoulder blades. 'Is it good, sweetheart?'

Innocence nodded, 'Your finger..... finger.... put it deep...'

Ryan understood what she really wanted. He thrust as deep as he could, hard and fast, eliciting approving whimpers. But she did say she wanted his fingers too, so those were not idle either. He captured her prominently protruding clit and toyed with it, squeezing ever so gently. Innocence sobbed as he drove her over the edge for the second time tonight. But this one dwarfed the first in magnitude. It just built and built, peaking higher and higher. The waves that never ended pounded the shores of her mind.

David saw her sexual energy shoot out in a thousand directions, the pink wisp-like tendrils were intense, vivid and electric. Drawing them to himself hungrily, he deftly weaved them with his own male tendrils. He licked his lips unconsciously as the power entered his Source. The power and the glory came like a rushing wind. He felt his Source glowing incandescent as the energy streamed in. David felt his spirit soar as it overwhelmed him. Simultaneously and on another level, the part of his consciousness that was within Ryan's mind suddenly registered Ryan's impending orgasm. As Innocence came, her walls collapsed and crumpled around Ryan's thickness, pulling out thick ropes of seminal fluid that generously watered her secret garden. The effect of these sensations on David was to bring about his own uncontrollable orgasm.

Crouched in silence within the shadows, no observer could have guessed what was happening inside David's nearly motionless body. Only a slight quivering and the darkening spot on the front of his pants gave him away. The rush of power as his Source became drunk on energy, the sensations that poured in from his mental link with Ryan, the orgasm his own body was experiencing - these three events blasted through David all at once. It was only with great effort and the self-control that came from previous such experiences when he shadowed Ryan and others like him during their trysts, that David was able to stop himself from collapsing into a shuddering, orgasming heap.

Ryan's body jerked, his bottom clenching as he shot white fire into Innocence, scalding her lust-inflamed vaginal walls. 'Wha...what?' she asked, confused at the sudden hot liquid surging up her heated canal. She was not stupid, just woefully naive. What were those heated jets coating her insides? Could it be -? Realisation hit her - that was not his finger! They were actually.... actually... fornicating. But she was too far gone to stop now. She cried out in unbridled pleasure and overwhelming shame as Ryan's relentless pistoning action lifted her into the white, consuming flames of release.

Only after a long, sweet while, did the raging storm begin to subside in all three. Ryan lay with the sobbing Innocence, cradling her in his arms. He looked at her proudly. She had a well-fucked glow on her slick, sweaty body. Though still fully clothed, her clothes were disheveled and they stuck to her, transparent with wetness in many places. Her skirt was pulled up high above her waist, revealing his slowly shrinking member embedded inside her. Ryan withdrew slowly and it came out with a squelchy pop. He pulled her soiled, bunched panties over her sex, stemming the flux of murky, assorted liquids, sealing them inside her young womb. He gave the soiled fabric one last pat, making Innocence jump as a tingle shot through her. Ryan smiled as he thought that he would soon be taking her home to her dormitory at St. Mary's, the famous girl's boarding school and nunnery. It was Innocence who had secretly left earlier that evening, but it would be a little strumpet who returned.

*************************************


David rested behind the bush, eyes closed as he rested from his, mostly mental, exertions. There were still a few straggling tendrils of energy to be collected from Ryan and Innocence. Those two were quiet now and the little moonlit clearing was breathtakingly silent; only their own deep breaths and the lull of chirping crickets could be heard. Exhausted and concentrating inwardly on integrating the boiling energies he had absorbed into his Source, David almost didn't hear the tiny sound behind him. Certainly, a month earlier, he wouldn't have heard it. And if he had heard it, he would not have reacted in time. But a side-effect of the increase in his mental energies was an enhanced sense of hearing.

It was that nearly imperceptible sound of sharp steel cutting through air that alerted him. His body reacted before he did, twisting to the side in the nick of time as four feet of metal passed by within a hair's breadth of his chest. It didn't stop. Before he had time to recover his balance, the stabbing motion turned fluidly into a sideways swing that would have cleaved his upper body from his lower regions. David fell backwards, landing on the ground and rolling away quickly as the sword passed over him. He ended up an ungainly heap five feet away but he quickly sprang to his feet.

His attacker was a tall, dark haired woman in her early twenties. He opened his mouth to question why she had attacked him without reason but before he could say a word, she spoke angrily, 'Hmph! Another vampyrr!' The glow of energy about him was unmistakable to her - it marked anyone who absorbed the energy of other humans.

David blinked but before he could ask her what she meant, she charged him again. David had already seen that she knew what to do with that sword. As far as he knew, it was by blind luck that he'd survived those two near misses. David knew the limits of his own mental powers - he could plant suggestions and influence her emotions. At that point, neither option sounded promising. Furthermore, from the only three words she had spoken so far, she didn't sound entirely in her right mind, so reasoning with her might not be a good idea either. In the interest of living a long, healthy life, he turned tail and ran.

The huntress was quick to draw. She would not let this one escape her. His slower movements did not escape her notice; this one was almost sluggish in comparison to the lightning speeds of the one she had fought earlier that night. Ten inches of barrel gleamed in the moonlight. Just as her finger caressed the trigger, her sharp senses became aware of an object flying for her head.

'Shoo!' she heard someone say. She ducked even as she fired, the shot going astray. The object missed her. It had merely been a stick, half-heartedly thrown by Ryan, who thought he heard rustling coming from the foliage nearby. Not sure if it was a nocturnal animal or one of those pesky voyeurs, he'd thrown a branch in that direction, hoping to scare it off. The answering roar of gunfire nearly frightened him out of his wits. Of course, it wasn't aimed at him, but he didn't know that. Not bothering even to adjust their dishevelled clothing, Ryan and Innocence picked themselves up and ran helter-skelter in fear of whatever violent mobster, gang, triad or general psychopath was roaming the hill, ducking as they fled. Meanwhile, the huntress named Valkyrie cursed and ran in pursuit of David, who had already disappeared in that brief moment.



Author's note:
vampyrr - singular
vampyrie - plural
(But I get mixed up too!)