She was standing next to the refrigerator where Kristoff had first rescued her when she had slipped holding a tray of horderves. Some how he had managed to catch her and set her on her feet while catching the tray, all without spilling a single shrimp.
Kristoff, her mystery man. Lean, tall, dark, a bit old fashioned. He was a reader of books a world class traveler, a bit of a mischievous boy and oh yes, a real, honest to goodness vampire.
Christine still blushed when she thought about her silly fake vampire teeth, the ones that got her into trouble when, by accident while making out with Kristoff, she had nipped him on the neck. Those damn fangs had been sharp and pierced his neck, blood everywhere. Christine recalled the taste as it had hit her tongue and then she had been sucking for all she was worth.
The beginning was an accident and Christine had tried all the next year to forget and make her marriage back into what it had started as 24 years earlier, when they had both been young and in love and their world was a realm of amazing possibilities. Time as they say marches on. Her husband wasn't interested in restarting their lives or exploring the possibilities or much of anything besides his internet games, his restored muscle cars, and beer. He certainly wasn't interested in her.
The following year at Halloween, Christine gave herself to Kristoff on purpose and left with him to begin a new life. They traveled (at night), explored while the regular world slept and he showed her the life of an immortal.
Kristoff never pushed, matter of fact he tried to discourage her. Even now it was her choice as he explained over and over, ad nauseum.
"The first time we share blood; it restores to the human a zest for life, heals their body, and brings a more youthful physical self. The second sharing adds life, clears the mind and allows the human to share in the powers of the vampire for a time. Most of us have had at one time or another, a companion. One with whom we had shared a second exchange. Most are willing to stop at that point, enjoying the extended life, the health, and companionship of the vampire with out going all the way and actually becoming one of the living dead."
Kristoff always looks half aware at this point in his little speech, as if his mind is a thousand years and thousands of miles away. Once he shakes his head as if he is pushing away a memory he continues. "The third exchange brings on what we call the little death, for the body goes through such a metamorphous that it seems to die and then once it begins to live again it is forever changed to vampire kind."
"Vampires are called immortal, in truth we are not. Exposed to direct sunlight, the virus that keeps us alive breaks down and begins to boil in our bloodstream, exposed to air it begins to burn. Thus the legends of vampire busting into flame. We can survive most any injury as we heal almost instantly. The only things I have found that will kill us, is to remove the head from the neck or completely destroy the heart. Leave even half the heart and we can heal. Thus it wasn't the wooden stake that did the job but the sheer size of it for it destroyed the heart completely."
Christine grinned at the reminder. Kristoff had dropped those wonderful tidbits for most of the last year. Just here and there, dropped into casual conversation, a year's college course on the care, feeding and lifestyle habits of the vampire.
She moved on through the house, searching here and there, picking up a few things she had wanted to keep from her life as a human. The old, real photographs of the kids as they grew up. Her mother's favorite vase, left to her in her mothers will. A small painting her husband had spent half a month's paycheck on way back when they first were married, just because she had admired it.
The rest of the things here didn't matter. They were just stuff. Her husband and his new bimbo of the month could have them. Oh yes, she heard about each and every new girlfriend from her daughters in her weekly conversations on the phone. It seemed as if her husband found his zest for life once she had moved on. Well good for him.
Christine retreated to her den. Here she packed all the items she had taken into an old backpack she had left in the closet. She looked around one last time and her eyes fell on the book by Robert A. Heinlien, Kristoff had been reading when first she found him in the den three years ago. It was one of her favorites, Glory Road. She removed it from the shelf and caught a gleam in the area behind the book. Reaching in she pulled out the pack of cigarettes and the note Kristoff had written that Halloween three years previous.
She smiled as she lit one of the remaining smokes, it was the one, old bad habit, she still retained from her life as a human, a cigarette once a day. Of course now she didn't need to worry about lung cancer or much of any diseases, germs don't affect the non living.
She had surrendered her life three weeks ago as she and Kristoff made love. He had been soft and sweet and slowly brought her body to such a trembling point of anticipation, caressing her body, doing little nips to the underside of her breasts, down her belly and driving his tongue into her swollen clit before sinking his fangs into her femoral artery. She remembered flashing over in orgasm just as he struck, and each suck, each pull of the blood from her seemed to bring her higher and higher. Then she collapsed and the world lost all light and color and Kristoff was dripping blood from his slashed wrist into her gaping mouth and her world exploded, first a burst of pain so intense, so agonizing it twisted her body and seemed to rip her insides apart.
Next was the warmth and ecstasy of the blood filling her mouth and she clamped on to his wrist sucking and lapping and she couldn't get her fill and then. She couldn't remember anything after that until she awoke three days later, ravenous and feral there was this girl and she was all over her and blood was soo sweet and she was soo hungry.
Christine remembered coming back to the knowledge of self and control of her body and mind, covered in blood. Kristoff had been there to explain how the first hours are all animal and hunger and survival need. He taught her how to hold her food with her mind and take just enough from several rather than killing. How to erase the feeding from the mind of the food and return them to their mundane lives none the wiser and unharmed.
