Six hundred years can be a Pain in the neck

 And then she came to me and whispered 'Dear child,'

 'If you love me, please, oh dear, don't cry.'

–The Rolling Stones - Sympathy For The Devil (1968)

 For centuries vampires have lived among humankind, feeding off their energy to survive, hidden away from society's view in secret covens and clans. In recent years, these creatures have become bolder and less secretive, revealing themselves to humans and even joining forces with them to fight a common enemy. Some claim this has led to a resurgence of old vampiric beliefs, superstitions, and myths. Others believe it marks a new age in which mankind faces its greatest threat since the dawn of civilization itself.

Jack woke up lying on his back on the cold wooden deck staring up at the night sky. He groaned involuntarily as he realized his head throbbed horribly and his stomach churned, reminding him of the beating he suffered earlier. Looking around he noticed he was alone on the beach, the waves lapping rhythmically against the shoreline.

At least he doesn't suffer any longer, he thought. At least the witch is gone, and hopefully forever. He wondered whether the Coppers were also gone. Perhaps she sent them away when she heard he was coming, or perhaps they left without saying goodbye. Either way, he decided to leave them be.

Something warm touched his forehead and he flinched away instinctively, expecting the worst. Instead, he discovered that it was only a small piece of cloth wrapped tightly around his head to protect his wounds from drying out during daylight hours. It smelled strongly of herbs and spices, giving his senses a soothing aroma rather than a pungent odor. After removing it, he inspected his injuries carefully but couldn't see anything except for dried blood. No broken bones, thankfully.

Wincing at the burning sensation of his cuts, he cleaned himself thoroughly and dressed in clean clothes from his satchel. Then he packed everything else into his bag and headed towards the edge of town. Although he had no idea where he was going or what direction to travel in, he figured he might stumble upon someone eventually who could point him in the right direction. Even if he didn't, he planned to walk until sunrise, which should give him plenty of time to get home safely.

"You're lucky, Mr. Price, you did very well last night."

Jack stopped abruptly as a young girl approached him from behind, startling him. He turned to face her, smiling broadly despite his exhaustion. Her hair shone brightly under the moonlight, reflecting silver strands within the rays of light piercing the darkness. A large pair of round blue eyes stared directly into his as she spoke, "My father tells me I'm supposed to greet everyone who stays at our motel. And I am glad you are safe. My family and I wish you luck."

He nodded politely, "Thank you, I appreciate it. Though I must admit I've already forgotten your names." she smiled widely and replied, "Don't worry about that, it happens often enough. Just call me Nora; most people do anyway."

Jack took a step closer and extended his hand, shaking hers enthusiastically, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss…Nora?"

"That's right," she answered proudly. "Though I think my friends call me Nora or Kitten sometimes. But you can always refer to me as Ms. Dawn if you prefer."

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, "I'll try not to embarrass myself too badly, but you never know…"

She giggled and playfully punched him on the shoulder, "Well I hope you enjoy your visit here in our quaint seaside village. Now hurry inside before it gets too late." With that, she turned and ran back toward the hotel entrance laughing happily as if he had said something funny.

As Jack continued walking northward, heading deeper into town instead of leaving via the main road running parallel to the coastline, he began to wonder why anyone would choose to live in such a remote location. The whole place seemed deserted aside from a few scattered buildings and houses, none of which looked occupied. What sort of business could possibly thrive here?

After several minutes of wandering aimlessly through the streets of the seemingly abandoned community, he finally caught sight of a barber shop located near one of the side streets. Stepping inside, he asked the man sitting at the front counter where he might find the nearest bus station and learned that the closest public transportation service was operated by Greyhound Lines out of New York City. Apparently, the local government paid for buses to transport tourists to the area once per week so that they could experience the scenic coastal views, but it was still months before the next scheduled departure date.

By the time he returned to the motel room, the moon was high overhead in the clear summer skies. He collapsed gratefully onto the bed after taking off his shoes and socks, feeling exhausted beyond measure. As he lay there listening to the sound of waves breaking on the shore below, he recalled the events of the previous evening.

When he regained consciousness, Nora had been standing beside him holding a damp towel to his brow, wiping away the dried blood. He had no recollection whatsoever of how he got here, nor did he remember being attacked by a witch, but apparently that's exactly what happened.

A wave of nausea washed over him as his mind flashed back to the taste of her blood and the feel of her soft skin sliding across his lips as he drank deeply from her veins. He shivered uncontrollably as memories of her naked form assaulted his senses. The image of her pale breasts and the slender figure remained vividly etched in his memory, making it impossible to forget those curves and contours.

Noticing that he was awake, Nora stepped forward and knelt beside the bed, placing a cool wet washcloth over his eyes and cheek. She used gentle fingers to massage the muscles deep beneath his eyelids as she spoke softly, "How are you feeling now?"

Her touch caused him to shudder violently as images flooded his brain of the things she made him do to her while he drained her life essence.

"…you needn't concern yourself with it anymore, Mr. Price."

With her assistance, he managed to sit upright and remove the blindfold from his eyes. Through blurred vision, he saw her kneeling on the floor facing him wearing a simple black dress, her long red hair tied loosely behind her head. She held a glass filled with blood in each hand. One contained ice cubes floating, another had a slice of lemon garnished with salt. He accepted the first and downed it quickly, savoring every drop of the warm liquid.

Then he took a sip of the second concoction, watching her reaction intently. There was no expression of disgust or revulsion on her pretty face, just an expectant look that told him he had done well.

Now that he understood the source of her power, he wondered how many other men she fed upon like this—how far does the addiction go? Or maybe he shouldn't question it, after all, she saved his life. Maybe she feeds because she enjoys it, and likes the company. He felt compelled to ask but feared the answer, deciding instead to change subjects.

"...so tell me, Nora," he said slowly, testing out the unfamiliar moniker she called herself, "why did you save me?"

His voice sounded weak and raspy to his own ears. Nora laughed lightly, "Why do you care? You seem to act quite differently than you did yesterday."

Without thinking about it, he raised his arm defensively as if she was preparing to strike him. Before he could move, however, Nora grabbed both of his hands gently and pressed them firmly against the mattress above his head, pinning him down completely. Despite his efforts to free himself, he found that her strength overpowered him easily. Soon enough, he relaxed slightly knowing that she wasn't planning to hurt him physically.

Instead, she leaned close to whisper in his ear, "We will talk later tonight when we return to your room, Mr. Price. If you behave yourself, I promise that I won't make you drink too much." With that, she stood up gracefully and walked out of the room without further comment.

Jack watched her leave and tried unsuccessfully to calm his nerves. Was she telling the truth or playing some kind of sick game with him? How much of her words meant anything given that she probably killed dozens of people to feed upon their energy? Did she really want him to stay alive, or did she merely intend to use him for her own purposes? These questions swirled endlessly through his mind as sleep overcame him.

Sometime later, Jack awoke to the smell of coffee brewing somewhere nearby. He opened his eyes and glanced around the darkened bedroom to discover that the curtains had been drawn closed to block out the sunlight streaming through the windows. His heart skipped a beat as he remembered the events of the previous night and then jumped again when he spotted the pile of clothing neatly folded on the chair opposite him. Upon inspection, he realized they belonged to Nora and recognized the scent of perfume lingering in the air. He suddenly became aware of the aches and pains throughout his body, especially the ones in his neck and shoulders. They reminded him of the beating he received from the witch, but he knew better than to dwell on thoughts of revenge.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot straight between his shoulder blades causing him to gasp loudly, momentarily distracting him from whatever it was he was doing. Opening his eyes wide, he scanned the room frantically trying to locate the cause of his discomfort. When his gaze fell on Nora, he realized she had pinned him down atop the bed using only her legs, straddling his lower torso.

What in God's name is she doing? he wondered nervously. Is she mad at me for drinking her blood and wants to kill me now that I've woken up? He struggled against her grip but failed miserably since he couldn't even lift his arms from the position they were bound at.

But then she moved ever so slowly, lowering herself until she rested fully on top of him. Feeling the warmth emanating from her smooth thighs pressing against his chest, Jack thought briefly of sex with her and immediately regretted having these sorts of thoughts about someone who has clearly demonstrated the ability to drain a person dry without hesitation or remorse. In fact, it seemed as though she enjoyed it more than he did!

Before either of them could say anything, Nora placed a finger on his lips silencing any protests. Gazing lovingly into his eyes, she kissed him passionately on the forehead before whispering sweetly into his ear, "I don't plan to harm you, Jack Price, not yet anyway."

Jack blinked rapidly as he fought to understand what she had said. It was difficult to concentrate due to the overwhelming feelings coursing through his nervous system. Intense emotions surged within him: fear, excitement, desire, lust—he didn't know which way was up. All he wanted to do was scream bloody murder, but he bit his lip hard to keep quiet. Instead, he decided to focus solely on her beautiful features. She smelled divine; clean and fresh with hints of flowers mixed with the aroma of her shampoo. Her skin was flawless and smooth, almost glowing under the dim lighting. He could see the faint outline of her nipples through her thin silk blouse and imagined how they would feel underneath his fingertips. Then there was the small patch of dark hair between her legs, enticing him to imagine her pink flesh wrapped tightly around his penis, gripping him desperately as he plunged inside of her.

He strained to hear her voice again and barely managed to catch the last part of what she said. "…not yet anyway."

He stared at her blankly as she removed her mouth from his ear and smiled seductively, "Oh, I'm sorry Mr. Price. Do forgive my poor choice of language."

"Mr. Price?"

She nodded emphatically, "Yes, Mr. Price, or would you prefer Jack?"

Relief swept over him as he breathed a sigh of relief, realizing that he hadn't offended her. Still smiling broadly, she added, "And you may continue calling me 'Ms. Dawn' if you prefer, but I'd rather be addressed as Nora."

He nodded his agreement and replied, "Okay Nora."

She chuckled and stroked his chin tenderly with her thumb, tracing the line of stubble that had formed overnight. Looking past his shoulder toward the door leading outside, she whispered quietly in his ear, "You must excuse us, Jack. We have work to attend to today."

Ignoring his protestations, she rose swiftly from the bed and disappeared into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Moments later, she emerged carrying a tray laden with clothing that was clean and neatly pressed. After setting everything down on the table beside the bed, she turned to him and handed him two sets of clothes.

"…we're going shopping!"

As he dressed hastily, he noticed that he wore nothing but business attire. Although it fits perfectly, it struck him as odd since he had slept in it. By the time he finished dressing, Nora appeared once again wearing a matching Blue suit jacket, black heels, and a plain grey Skirt. She looked stunning in spite of the attire, reminding him of the young girl he met earlier in the day. Now that she was clad in professional attire, he began to wonder whether he should call her Ms. Dawn or simply Nora. Whatever her preference, he promised himself silently that he wouldn't forget her real name. He also vowed not to repeat the mistake of confusing one vampire for another. For now, however, he chose to address her as Nora.

After breakfast, they drove to a large department store where Nora purchased several bedding items suitable for daytime activities along with various toiletries and personal items. While waiting patiently for her purchases to arrive, they browsed through racks and shelves of clothing, shoes, cosmetics, and jewelry. As usual, she preferred to shop alone and never asked for help despite his offers. Once his selections arrived by elevator, Nora insisted that he wait outside the changing rooms for her privacy, although he suspected she planned something else entirely.

Once she returned to the fitting area, she changed into a short-sleeved white cotton sundress and sandals. The outfit consisted of a fitted bodice and full skirt that ended below midthigh, giving her the appearance of being taller than her actual five feet four inches. A few minutes later, she exited the changing room looking radiant and ready for a stroll down Broadway Street in New York.

They spent hours wandering aimlessly among shops selling high fashion goods such as designer jeans and casual wear, expensive purses, fashionable hats and scarves, and gourmet food products from around the world. Occasionally, they stopped off at a café or bar for a light snack and beverage. At length, they settled on a bench near the fountain in Central Park to rest before returning to the hotel. During their brief respite, he discovered that Nora liked to play games during lunch breaks, including cards, chess, checkers, backgammon, and dominoes. But mostly, she played solitaire on an ancient laptop computer that she brought with her wherever she went. She explained to him that it helped pass the time while traveling. He soon learned that she used it whenever boredom threatened to overcome her, usually late at night when everyone else was asleep.

During their walk home, Nora told him about her family and childhood, explaining why she left school early. He listened intently and shared some of his experiences growing up, particularly those related to his father. Though he wished otherwise, she refused to discuss vampires, demons, witches, or necromancers. He guessed that she believed most supernatural beings are evil, but he hoped that someday she might reveal more information about her kind.

When they reached the lobby of the Hotel Pennsylvania, Jack offered to escort her upstairs to his penthouse suite, but she declined to say it wasn't necessary. Relieved by her response, he followed closely behind as they entered the revolving doors and headed towards the elevators. There, she paused abruptly to look up at him and smile softly, "Thank you for saving my life last night."

He shrugged casually in reply, "It was no problem."

Nora shook her head as if to disagree, "No, I mean… thank you for fighting alongside me to protect me from the witch. You saved me from certain doom."

His eyebrows raised inquisitively, wondering just exactly what manner of creature she had become involved with. Without thinking, he blurted out, "Are you sure you weren't imagining things, Nora? Perhaps you mistook a reflection for reality."

Her expression clouded instantly and she glared at him fiercely, "Don't patronize me, Mr. Price. Don't treat me like some sort of idiot, because I assure you that I am quite capable of distinguishing fantasy from reality. And besides…" She took hold of his arm gently and continued in a softer tone, "…you saw it too."

Jack felt goose bumps rise on his skin as the hairs on the back of his neck stood erect upon hearing the words, "You saw it," repeated three times. What does she want from me? Why won't she tell me who she really is? Where did she come from? Does she know more than she admits? Or is this all in my imagination after consuming her blood? Questions swirled through his mind as he tried unsuccessfully to conceal the intense curiosity he was feeling.

Trying to ignore the unusual sensations surging throughout his body, he attempted to change the subject by asking, "How old are you, Nora?"

Stroking his forearm tenderly with her fingertips, she answered, "Six hundred years."