©Diana Lee

It was fully dark when Ryan and Carissa left the house, but it was still too early to hunt. Ryan was dressed all in black, but not in the usual clothing she wore. Instead, she had dressed as a mate from a ship might dress to better fit in with the crowds of sailors who overflowed the taverns and pubs. The dress that Carissa wore was none that her mother had ordered for her. It was scandalously short and very low cut. The fabric was a bit flashy, and Carissa realized that she could be mistaken for a streetwalker in the dress. When she had modeled the dress for Ryan she had not protested, but had asked rather archly if she was to be the bait that night. Ryan had only smiled and kissed her roughly.

The first tavern they had stopped in was full of smoke and laughter and warmth. Carissa was fascinated. No woman of her class would ever go to such a place. Indeed, no respectable woman of any class would. There were women in the tavern, nearly all dressed more or less like Carissa, but mostly the place was filled with men drinking and flirting. Ryan kept a proprietary arm around Carissa, and some of the girls looked at her with envy that she should have snagged someone who was obviously an officer.

It was Carissa's first taste of beer, and she rather liked it. She also liked the informality of the place. She knew enough not to talk much, for her propriety of speech would give her away, but Ryan spoke in accents and words that Carissa could barely understand. Mostly she smiled a lot and kept her comments to one or two words. In time, she would pick up the inflections and dialects, but for now she just observed.

Ryan seemed to know the names of many of the ships in port and who sailed them. She traded gossip with the sailors, but what information she was after, Carissa could not guess. While they were in with crowds of people sharing the warmth and noise, Carissa's hunger lay in abeyance. But once they left the light, she began to feel its incessant call. She willed herself to breathe deeply, to stroll along slowly with Ryan. They began to walk the less frequented streets, making their way to the docks. Once, Carissa felt ghostly fingers at her pocket, and Ryan turned to growl at a street urchin who was trying to rob them. The boy ran off with an impudent laugh, and Ryan chuckled softly. But Carissa felt a tug to chase after him, to run him down and corner him helplessly and feed. She had to stop and control the trembling in her legs as the urge to hunt all but overwhelmed her. Ryan stood quietly next to her, allowing her to take control of her own instincts.

"I did not realize it would be like this," Carissa whispered.

"We are predators, my dear. We feel not only the hunger for blood, but the hunger for the chase as well."

"I could never understand why so many of our friends loved fox hunting. I loved riding Nightshade in the hunt, but I never wanted to catch the poor fox or felt any thrill in chasing it. I suppose I understand now."

"No, this is not the same at all. Twenty or thirty hunters, not to mention hounds, chasing a single fox, is no hunt." There was scorn in Ryan's voice. "Hunting any animal is nothing like this, for they do not share what makes humans the most dangerous prey of all."

"Intelligence?"

"I was thinking more of cruelty, my dear. The cunning fox can out smart the hunters. Only humans can turn the hunt around, and make us the prey of their pettiness, their self-righteousness."

"But vampires are stronger, have more powers then humans. Surely, a vampire must win any struggle?"

"What ever gave you that idea? True, I am physically stronger than any one, or two, or perhaps three men, but I could not withstand a mob, and you are still as weak as you were before the change. A vampire's physical strength is an outgrowth of her strength of will. Learning to focus that will, to overcome the hunger in order to work your will, that takes great practice. Not all those who are made survive long after their change. Many die within the first year or two. Which is all to the good, or the hunters might outnumber the prey one day."

They had reached a deserted area near the docks. Great warehouses lined the streets, and this time of night all was in darkness. Ryan drew Carissa deep into the shadows. They crept along the side of one large building. Near the front, Carissa could make out the prow of a ship. The warehouse abutted directly to the dock for ease of loading and unloading. The night was fairly clear, and Carissa could hear the sea lapping against the pilings. She could also hear the sound of a man muttering softly to himself. She began to feel the power thrumming along her nerves and the heat of his blood calling her.

They stopped at the edge of the building. Carissa only had eyes for her prey. He was a large man, armed with a wooden billet. He was there to guard the goods that were still stacked on the pier. She started forward, but Ryan held her back, searching the night to see if the guard had a companion. She could feel Carissa trembling with eagerness, but she held tight to the inexperienced hunter until she was sure there was no one else nearby.

"Listen, my Dove. He is much stronger then you, and though he could not kill you with that piece of wood, he could hurt you badly." Ryan's whisper was so soft in her ear that even with her heightened senses Carissa had to strain to hear her. "You cannot overpower him, nor do you have enough skill to mesmerize him. I could help you again, and if you wish me to I will, but you must learn to do this yourself. In any case, I will be close by to help, if you should need it."

"How?" Carissa whispered with almost no sound.

"You are beautiful, my dear. Let that be your weapon. It is a formidable one."

Carissa started to protest, but Ryan gave her a little push towards the guard. Carissa felt something pressed into her hand, but when she looked over her shoulder Ryan was gone. She cursed softly to herself, and then saw that the guard had heard some noise. He had risen alertly, and was holding the billet ready in his hand.

Before the man could call the alarm, Carissa stepped boldly out of the shadows. She let her shawl slip down her shoulders, and the infant moon picked up the white mounds of her breasts as they crested over her dress. She looked quickly at the silver gleam in her hand, and smiled when she saw it was a flask. Now she felt the thrill of the hunt, and all other thoughts left her mind. This was her prey alone, and it would be her skill that took him. She sauntered forward confidently, feeling her skirt swirl about her calves as she moved her hips in the rhythm of her stride.

"Hey sweet thing, what are you doing down here?" The man called out softly.

"I got lonely," Carissa pouted. She came closer until she stood warmed by the soft light of the man's lantern. It gave her white skin a soft golden glow and glinted sparks from her amber eyes. She stopped so the man could get a good look at her.

"Yer all alone?" the man asked suspiciously. He was smart enough to realize that she might be a decoy for some thieves.

"Unfortunately," Carissa sighed. "He drank too much and passed out, leaving me all alone. And I don't want to be alone tonight."

The guard cleared his throat as she came closer. He was staring at her breasts, licking his lips unconsciously. "Wait here," he ordered.

Carissa watched while he lifted his lantern and searched the shadows. She was confident Ryan would not be detected. Part of her wanted to jump snarling on the man's back and take him just like that, but she knew she was not strong enough. Besides, he would bellow with alarm, and there were probably other men sleeping on the ship or in the warehouse. She watched him search, and she realized he was too tall for her to reach his neck if he stood. She looked around and found a pile of sacking next to the door of the warehouse. She moved to the sacks and spread them into a nest. Then she settled down on them, letting her skirt ride up above her knees. When the guard returned, she waved him over.

The guard satisfied himself that there was no gang of thugs waiting to jump him while the streetwalker distracted him. But he was still confused. Women of her quality didn't usually work the docks. He could see she was unmarked by the pox and so young that her flesh was firm and pliant. He licked his lips again as he looked down at her. She held up the flask to show him and then waved him closer.

"Is it silver?" he asked.

Carissa shrugged, "I think so."

"You steal it?"

Carissa laughed. "Just borrowed it. He'd had more then enough to drink, and he won't miss it till morning. Want some?"

The guard sat down next to Carissa and took the flask from her. It was filled with fine brandy, not the cheap rum he was used to, and he smacked his lips with appreciation. "How much?"

Carissa turned and posed for him, her breasts straining against the fabric. She shrugged, and her sleeve slid down to reveal a white shoulder. "How much am I worth to you?"

The guard wiped his lips. He could not afford such a whore, and he knew that. But he also knew she must know it. Perhaps she just wanted a real man after the rich drunks who were probably her usual customers. He reached in his pocket and found a silver coin, taking it out and offering it to her. He was relieved to see her smile and pocket it. She hadn't been insulted. Good.

"Finish the brandy," Carissa suggested.

He smiled at her, almost shyly, and took a long pull at the flask. Then he lay back next to her running one hand up her leg. In a moment, he would discover that Carissa wore nothing under her skirts. She leaned up on her elbow and pushed him down flat. When she bent to kiss his neck, he chuckled. "Eager for it, aren't you?" he whispered.

Carissa bit his neck, feeling the blood well into her mouth. He uttered one gasp of surprise, and then lay still moaning softly as she fed. The hunger had her now. All that mattered was the taste and scent of blood. She let it fill her completely, her eyes filled with the vision of red that was the blood still swirling in his veins. She felt heat building along her limbs, and the excitement of her victory over this man combined with her hunger to drive her to the heights of intoxication. Time stopped still while she fed, and her whole world contracted to a red haze of heat and power and blood.

Carissa could see the difference in color now. The red was not so bright, and the heat of the man was cooling. She heard Ryan calling her name, and she snarled. This was her prey, her victim. She had taken him all by herself. She would not give any part of him to another. When she turned to face Ryan, the light of combat was in her eyes. She jumped up into a crouch, and it was the stance of one predator protecting its prey from another. For long moments, she was filled with such rage that it swamped even her hunger. But Ryan just sat there squatting on her heels, making no move at all.

At last Carissa closed her eyes. She got up abruptly and stalked off into the night. Ryan stopped only to take back her flask, and then she followed Carissa to the far side of the pier. Carissa stood looking down into the water, her hands clenched at her sides. "If I could vomit, I would." Carissa's voice was tight with self-disgust.

"Why? You succeeded admirably. You even stopped before you took too much. He will wake whole and well in a few hours."

"I let him touch me! I let a man...." Carissa's voice was soft but full of intensity. "He even paid me! And Ryan, I enjoyed it. I loved feeling that power over him. You know... you know I don't feel that way about men. But I let him..."

"Carissa, why do you think any woman becomes a streetwalker? Do you think she does it because she likes to lay with men?"

"I... "

"I know, gently brought up women aren't even supposed to know there are such women, or if there are, they are all wicked. Tell, me, did the women in the tavern seem wicked to you?"

"No...."

"Well, then, why do they do it?"

"I suppose... I suppose they have to, to eat."

"Exactly. Some of them have children to support and no other way to feed them. Even if they do like men, I doubt very much they enjoy lying with most of their customers, but they have no choice. Society gives them none."

"So now I am a whore?" Carissa asked deliberately using the harshest word she knew.

"You do what you must to survive. Frankly, I would rather be a whore then a hypocrite like your father who earns his money from the labor of children. At least whores give honest pleasure for the money they receive. To me, that is a great deal more honorable then being a procurer like your father."

"But I didn't exactly live up to my side of the bargain Ryan." Carissa held out the coin the guard had given her. "I should give it back, since I did not give him what he paid for."

Ryan smiled. "He valued you highly. That is half a week's wages for a man like that." Carissa gasped. "I don't think he will rue his bargain in the morning, my Dove. He won't remember exactly what happened. He will remember a beautiful woman who came to him, and the wonderful pleasure that followed."

"Pleasure?"

"Don't you find it pleasurable when I take you my dear?"

"Yes... but I thought.... I mean you make love to me when you..."

Ryan smiled. "Oh yes, there are other kinds of pleasure as well. But that is in part because I bring you out of the pleasure spell feeding itself brings. Some vampires do take their victims in terror and pain. They like the taste of the blood better that way. Myself, I find it rather bitter. Carissa, I don't know how the magic works, but I do know that as long as the victim is not killed, all the wounds inflicted heal, usually before morning. It is part of the same mechanism. When we take blood, we give something; I've heard it likened to opium. It gives great pleasure to the victim. Your guard will wake up happy. You have not cheated him."

"I guess I really didn't understand what I was asking for, Ryan. I though... I thought once I learned how to control my feeding, it would not matter. I could live this way, and still be myself."

"I can physically overpower my victims, or I can control them with the strength of my will. Is that really better then seducing them?"

"You... you did seduce me."

"Yes, and I enjoyed it enormously. Carissa, as you become stronger, you will be able to choose how you take your victim, but make no mistake: you will always be the predator, and they the prey. There are no moral grays to that distinction."

"Unless the prey comes willingly, like I did."

"Ahhh, but there are those who would count that the greatest crime of all: that I seduced a young, innocent girl into my licentious ways. Many, your parents included, would think this a worse crime then if I had raped you and killed you. At least then your soul would have remained innocent. Tell, me, do you feel I have cheated you? That I have taken something precious from you?"

"No. From the first time I met you, before you ever touched me, I felt something. And, when you made love to me that first night, I wanted it as much as you did."

"Well, you are honest at least, my Dove. Tonight, that man wanted you. Never mind that you did not, would never, want him in the same way. You gave him something he will cherish: a memory of something that really did not happen, but still a precious memory for him. And if you took something he did not bargain for, well, that is the nature of our existence. Some would call it evil. But it just is."

Carissa nodded. "It will be getting light in a couple of hours. We should go back to the house. Unless you need to hunt, Ryan?"

"Tomorrow night."

Ryan put her arm around Carissa and began leading her home. She was pleased with her little pet. She had done well that night. That she felt horror at what she had done was not a bad thing, for it was the ones who took with no shame at all that became the true monsters. There had to be a balance in the mind. For Ryan, it was pragmatism that dictated how and whom she fed on; or at least that is how she rationalized it. For CarissaÉ well, Ryan would just have to watch her grow and change. It would make for an interesting diversion. After so many years, life did have a lot of sameness to it, and it was that, more then anything, that could drive a vampire to carelessness. Carissa would be very diverting. And then, when she was ready, when she was strong enough, then Ryan would see if she had forged the instrument of her revenge.