Tag: Elizabeth Banks

  • Afterglow – Part I

    Elizabeth woke up with a start. She snapped straight into a sitting position which caused the sheets to slide off those generous breasts and pool around her hips. The cool chill of the air immediately hardened her nipples and marked the moment she noticed her nudity.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    The memories of last night had dulled like they would for nightmares. Elizabeth ran a hand through her hair, fighting through the knots caused by cold sweats, tossing and turning. With every knot unravelled, she winced which further banished memories of that nightmare from her conscious mind.

    “A dream,” Elizabeth whispered.

    The sound of her voice was reassuring but her words rang with false hope. Surely, meeting a former lover who turned out to be a creature of the night was nothing more than a scene featured in a straight to video horror flick. The plot alone would rank amongst the worst in Victoria’s collection.

    The morning chill made her shiver, so she brought the duvet up to her chest. The warmth had yet to dissipate and for a moment she was at ease, scanning the room for anything out of place. Everything was exactly where it should be except for her clothes, an oddity, since they were neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

    “What?” Elizabeth asked herself.

    Elizabeth had always been a bit of a slob. It was her wife who kept order amongst Elizabeth’s chaos. At first, they had disagreements about their living arrangements but that soon passed when both seceded certain habits in the name of marital bliss. Hope began to swell from within that her wife was back, that is, until she looked into her overflowing closet and saw that Mary’s suitcases were still gone.

    “Mary is still on tour,” Elizabeth said under her breath.

    Sensing that her mind was playing tricks on her, Elizabeth closed her eyes. Paranoia took hold and every sound further fuelled her uncertainty. Fortunately, the fact that her tongue felt like the hair of a stray dog sleeping in a dumpster behind some seedy strip club, did much to bring her back to reality.

    “Oh right,” Elizabeth said just as her head began to throb.

    She must have had a lot more to drink than she believed, given how memories of that chat were a mangled mess. Elizabeth had more clarity when viewing an impressionist painting than she did from her own memories at the moment.

    The attempt to remember what happened only worsened the dull throbbing in her head. The young woman sighed and with one quick movement, cleared the sheets from her body. The cold air invariably made her shiver which motivated her to leap from the bed.

    “Cold!” Elizabeth yelped.

    She hurriedly made her way to the bathroom, passing by the darkened living room. The sun had not yet peeked over the cityscape, so only the dull orange street lights filtered through the windows.

    Without a thought, she sat down to pee and absentmindedly went for a drawer within arms reach to rummage for some acetaminophen. Elizabeth shook the bottle. No sound. Since it was empty, she did a thorough search until another bottle was found and this one was almost full.

    “Dammit!” Elizabeth muttered while she fussed with the child proof lid.

    Eventually, the cap popped off and flew through the air. Elizabeth made a note to fetch the cap later. With her head feeling as though it were in a vice, she popped three pills into her mouth and swallowed them dry. For once, she was thankful for not having a gag reflex.

    With relief delivered on both fronts, she left the bathroom, on the mend. Her eyes had adjusted to the reduced lighting, and she was able to traverse the obstacle course she called a living room.

    She was thirsty and wondered what there was in the fridge to quench it. Her sense of logic urged her to grab some orange juice to hydrate and provide her with a quick boost of energy. Then again, another equally powerful voice was tempting her to start this day with a shot of Jack.

    Alas, she never made it to the kitchen. Her peripheral vision caught something white against the dark pleather couch. Elizabeth stopped cold and turned to have a better look. From this vantage point, she perceived the outline of ten toes shared between two feet.

    Her breathing grew short and shallow while a growing sense of panic overtook her senses. Still, she remained fixated on those feet, committing every detail to memory, namely how they were smaller, narrower, and decidedly more feminine than expected.

    “Did I hook-up last night?” Elizabeth asked in a whisper.

    She looked down at her ring as guilt overshadowed her desire to panic. Determined to dispel any such thoughts, she approached the couch from behind and leaned over the top until more bare skin came into focus.

    Her anxiety increased with every inch uncovered, at least until she saw that the sleeper’s chest and midsection were covered with a leather bustier. Her eyes drifted down to her rather dark haired muff and further down to her silky smooth legs. Every visible part of the woman was feminine, sensual and nearly perfect.

    While the sight of that great figure evoked no memories, that all changed when she gazed down the woman’s slender neck and sharp facial features. In her current pose, she looked more like a nude rendition of sleeping beauty than her guardian angel from last night.

    Those suggestive lips brought to the forefront all the memories of what happened last night. The face before her dispelled any notion that this had been a nightmare. A shame, since nightmares were easier to deal with than memories of actual trauma.

    Elizabeth moved to the front of the couch and watched as Clara breathed lightly. Her breasts, trapped within the confines of her bustier, rose and contracted with every breath. For the life of her, she could not figure out how this woman was still asleep.

    The idea that a warrior such as this could ever be at peace made Elizabeth question several pre-existing notions. Clara ran down that man last night, then smacked around her vampire ex-girlfriend as though it were child’s play.

    The cool air made her skin prickle. Clara did not seem to be bothered at all, in fact, the warm pink flesh implied that she was quite cosy and warm on the couch.

    Envious, she reached down to shake her guest but confusion set in once her fingers ran over the soft texture of feathers. They were warm and airy just like her childhood pet parakeet’s feathers.

    “Feathers,” Elizabeth whispered.

    “Mmhmm,” Clara said before letting out a soft sigh.

    Elizabeth snapped her arm back, “You’re awake?”

    “Since you woke up,” Clara said calmly. “I figured that my greeting you would be more upsetting.”

    “Feathers?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara nodded and said, “Would you mind stepping back a foot or two?”

    Elizabeth was confused, but the smile on Clara’s face convinced her that the request was serious. When she complied, Clara sat up slowly while the sound of feathers rubbing against pleather filled the room. This time Elizabeth did not react when something brushed against her knees.

    “There,” Clara said. “I miss sleeping all cocooned in warm sheets, but my wings do keep me nice and toasty warm.”

    “Wings?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara nodded while shifting into a sitting position. Even with her legs crossed, the dark curls between remained visible. Elizabeth eventually noticed how the other kept a distance away from the back cushions, just like she did the night before.

    “Ab-so-lutely,” Clara said. “They are normally quiet spectacular, but when I fell to Earth, they turned invisible, fortunately.”

    Clara turned to her left, and fiddled with the base of the lamp until it lit up the room. This time, when she stretched, her wings cast a shadow onto the floor.

    “Neat! That will probably be real popular at parties,” Clara said with a chuckle.

    “No kidding,” Elizabeth said flatly as her eyes shifted back to the shadow between Clara’s legs.

    Clara quickly ascertained the amazon’s focal point and said, “Is that common now?”

    “Is what common?” Elizabeth replied, a bit confused.

    “Sorry. A crotch smooth as the day you were born?” Clara asked, smirking as she focused on Elizabeth’s hairless berry patch.

    Elizabeth’s face went bright red and she no longer felt the effects of the chilled morning air. Although, she did shift her legs to conceal obscure her light chocolate coloured flower.

    “That probably explains why those guys at the bar looked at me funny,” Clara mused.

    “Bar?” Elizabeth asked. She thought it best to not wait for an answer, so she replied, “It’s far more popular now, but some women do buck the trend.”

    Clara smiled and stood up. For the first time, Elizabeth noticed that her angel was not all that tall. Last night, she appeared to be about the same height or smidge taller. Now that Clara had lost a bit of her lustre, she noticed there was a nine inch difference between them.

    Clara clearly liked the view she had at eye level and said, “Are those common now too?”

    Elizabeth looked down at her breasts which easily filled a double-D cup and specifically focused on the areola that matched her berry patch. She then noticed the grin on Clara’s face which implied that the question was made in jest rather than as a serious inquiry. Still, she also sensed that Clara was genuinely impressed by their size, shape and firmness.

    “Well, I’m about the average these days,” Elizabeth replied, in awe of how forthcoming she was.

    Clara looked down at her girls and while partially concealed by the bustier, they were closer to a C cup. Elizabeth watched as her saviour smiled but was not a party to this inside joke.

    “I can still handle a sword though,” Clara said before looking to her left and out the window. “Sun is about to rise. We should get washed up and grab a bite to eat,” she continued after tossing a casual glance at Elizabeth’s ring finger.

    The tone of those words had a devastating effect on the tension, and rightfully so. Either way, Clara was right, it was time to get up and start their search.

    “Do you want to go first?” Clara asked.

    Elizabeth was about to ask something, but changed her mind and said, “You go first.”

    “Great,” Clara said. She took a few steps, stopped, then pivoted towards Elizabeth before asking, “Do you have a razor that I can use?”

    “What! Why?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara grinned, pointing towards her bush which put the problem on display, “A gal has to blend in, you know?”

    “Sure,” Elizabeth said, but immediately mulled over some random detail that she picked up from a late night documentary on the television. “Do you know what a safety razor is?”

    “Does it involve a leather strap and straight blade?” Clara asked.

    Elizabeth bit the bottom of her lip and said, “While I have a strap in my closet, I don’t use it for that… purpose.” Elizabeth sighed before adding, “Come on, you’ll need a towel, and scissors anyhow.”

    Clara nodded and unhooked the back of her bustier. If anything, this woman was not shy about showing off her figure. She then placed the bustier neatly atop her other items, which solved the mystery surrounding her own neatly stacked attire.

    “I guess it’s a bit of a jungle down there,” Clara said nonchalantly.

    Elizabeth was flushed, and uncomfortable but was pretty sure that Clara would not let this progress beyond the point of no return.

    “I’m spoken for,” Elizabeth whispered and for the first time in her life, was disappointed by those words.

    “Do you have a lot of shampoo?” Clara asked before falling behind to follow Elizabeth.

    “What—,” Elizabeth was about to ask, but once she felt the warm feathers run down her back, she got the clue.

    “There should be enough,” Elizabeth said keeping eyes focused on the bathroom door.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Triple, Venti, Soy, No Foam Latte – Part IV

    Once they stepped inside, Clara’s smile grew into a full on shit-eating grin. This was exactly the kind of diversion she had been looking for and she enjoyed not being compelled to go anywhere. She made sure to enjoy every moment of it.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    “Wow!” Clara said excitedly after taking in a deep breath. “That smell.”

    Clara spotted someone leaving the counter carrying a tall concoction of crushed ice, caramel, chocolate, and whipped cream in hand. Her grin faded, replaced by a look of utter confusion.

    “That’s coffee now?” Clara asked.

    Elizabeth laughed. At first, she found the familiarity of this scene and her companion’s response unnatural. Once her eyes settled on her saviour’s face, she figured that the other was playing up that new kid act. Still, she played along, curious to see how far this might go.

    Clara continued to wade deeper into the shop, approaching the menu boards. From the look of things, the menu options were cryptic, something many regulars took for granted. To ease things along, Elizabeth walked up to the counter just in time to watch a clerk look up from the register.

    “Can I take your order?” the clerk asked.

    Elizabeth wanted to make it interesting, so she decided to spice things up by saying, “Triple Venti Soy No Foam Latte.”

    The look on Clara’s face was priceless, which only served to lighten Elizabeth’s mood. Concurrently, the look of boredom on the clerk’s face was immediately replaced by glowing embers in those dark eyes. Clearly, she was not amused.

    “To think, you were not able to understand me five minutes ago,” Clara said with a sigh.

    Unfortunately, Elizabeth’s order did little to demonstrate how the English language actually evolved. While much of the base was the same, coffee, or at least how to order it, changed a lot over the years.

    Clara smiled and asked, “Any specials tonight?”

    Elizabeth noticed that Clara’s smile had a disarming effect on the clerk. To be fair, tight leather that propped up her bust accompanied by a flirtatious smile would easily disarm most.

    The clerk smiled right back before replying, “Pumpkin spiced lattès are popular this time of year.”

    Clara turned to look at Elizabeth. The latter immediately understood how that sentence could confuse the uninitiated.

    “They add the spices used to make a pumpkin pie to your drink. It livens things up,” Elizabeth said.

    “Oh!” Clara exclaimed. “That’s the bee’s knees!”

    “What size?” the clerk asked after giving Clara an odd look.

    “Ummm,” Clara said.

    Elizabeth decided to further pester this clerk, “Venti, three shot, blonde, five pump, no fat, pumpkin spice, topped with whipped cream.”

    This time, the clerk was ready, but as judged by her woeful sigh, she was looking forward to the end of her shift. Clara, on the other hand, was nearly drooling, her mind struggling to follow along. It might have been better had she just taken in the experience.

    “Really? I’ve come across incantations to summon demons that were less cryptic,” Clara added matter-of-factly.

    Elizabeth shrugged before replying, “We could have used the app, but this was more fun.”

    “App? Never mind,” Clara said.

    “Will that be all?” the clerk asked.

    “Yes,” Elizabeth said.

    Elizabeth then pointed her phone towards a glowing red light. The light shimmered in various shades of red followed by an electronic chime. The tally on the register then dropped to zero.

    “I’m so out of the loop,” Clara mumbled.

    They walked down to another spot at the counter and waited patiently while their drinks were prepared. Clara seemed surprised at how fast these drinks were being made. The last time she ordered coffee, the server had been busy flirting with any betty who crossed his path. Although, she had to expect some changes since dancing the Charleston with Elizabeth’s potential great-grandfather.

    With drinks in hand, Elizabeth winked, grabbed both drinks, and then proceeded to an isolated counter. There she affixed lids, grabbed a few napkins, and found a table.

    “Here,” Elizabeth said after sliding over Clara’s drink.

    Clara looked at her confection dubiously. She took in the aroma of the drink, then removed the stopper from her lid. The aromas invaded her senses. Clara sighed contentedly and took a sip, putting a large smile to her face.

    “Nummy,” Clara said before taking a few more sips for good measure.

    Elizabeth did the sam. The familiar bitterness of her drink further served to calm her nerves. The fact that this woman was not concerned about what lurked outside did much to set her mind at ease.

    “Have you been able to piece together what happened?” Clara asked.

    “Not really,” Elizabeth said. “Could you?”

    Clara shrugged before removing the lid from her drink. With a lone finger, she scooped up a bit of the whipped cream, eyed it mischievously, and licked it up with her tongue. Elizabeth could not help but shiver at the visual.

    “The brunette was one of them,” Clara said. “We call them vampires.”

    “Like Bram Stoker’s Dracula?” Elizabeth spat out.

    Clara nodded, “Where do you think he got the idea?”

    At this point, Elizabeth was far too rundown to be surprised by any of this. The drink’s caffeine content was sure to provide a boost of energy but that took time. The hours spent watching horror movies late at night with Victoria before exam week taught her that life could be a harsh mistress. These events simply raised the bar, by a lot.

    “How did you know?” Elizabeth asked.

    “We crossed paths before,” Clara replied. “Although I now see their rotting souls superimposed over their physical selves.”

    “How?” Elizabeth asked.

    “Comes with the job,” Clara replied, avoiding any telltale detail that could lead to a panic.

    “Why were they after me?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara shrugged, sipped her drink, and enjoyed the radiating heat emanating from her belly.

    “You tell me?” Clara queried.

    Elizabeth tried to think about what happened and what may have triggered this encounter. Nothing came to mind, or at least nothing that seemed relevant. One question did pop into her mind and only Clara could answer.

    “How did you know where to find me?” Elizabeth asked, now somewhat alarmed.

    “Faith,” Clara said.

    “Faith?” Elizabeth repeated.

    “Yes,” Clara said. “It guided me to a truck, which in turn led me straight to you.”

    Elizabeth’s beliefs were mixed like her heritage. Her father was superstitious but had no defined religious affiliation. Her mother was a Christian who dragged her to church a few times but that quickly fell by the wayside. Until now, she had not considered that major religions might actually have some truth behind all of that doctrine. Never would she think it possible for them to have a legitimate reason for being beyond the indoctrination of their flock.

    Clara sensed there were a lot of questions that would need answers, so she pushed on with her own, “Why were they after you?”

    “I dunno,” Elizabeth said. “They just came out of nowhere.”

    “So, you’ve done nothing to deserve their attention?” Clara asked, while suspecting this was not a random incident.

    “I was just heading home after having lunch with a friend,” Elizabeth countered.

    Clara trusted her instincts and kept probing. Evelyn would not dare risk this level of exposure without a good reason.

    “What do you do for a living?” Clara asked.

    “Social worker,” Elizabeth said with pride. “I work with runaways and exploited children.”

    “Would any of your clients warrant that level of response?” Clara asked bluntly to force the other to consider every aspect of the situation.

    “Well… No,” Elizabeth replied.

    “So, it’s not your job… not your eating habits… think Lizzie! Is there a hatchet hidden under your bed that I should know about?” Clara pressed.

    “A hatchet?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara did not reply. Instead, she hummed a tune that reminded Elizabeth of a folk song. The reference was pretty dated, although recently revived when they released a television series based on the incident.

    Elizabeth’s eyes glowed once she realised that Clara had been toying with a variant of her name to play on that theme. This woman may talk as though starred in an early silver screen movie, but she clearly had an abundance of wit and intelligence.

    Why would Evelyn be after her? They only dated during college and she showed little interest in her friends. In fact, she always had an excuse to leave when an acquaintance showed up.

    She doubted it was related to her job; the children she interacted with were not well-known, wealthy, or prodigies. Runaways tended to get in trouble with the law and sometimes involved criminal elements, but from the supernatural?

    “Did anyone pass away recently?” Clara asked.

    “How do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.

    Clara leaned over the table which gave Elizabeth an eyeful of cleavage. Her steel-grey eyes were locked on hers and, for a moment, Elizabeth wondered if she was being judged.

    “You are not thinking outside the box,” Clara said in a near-whisper. “You obviously knew Evelyn and your mind is clouded by your past… interactions. That’s not who or what she really is.”

    Clara took a sip of her drink and pulled back, intent on letting Elizabeth stew for a bit. Was Elizabeth unconsciously masking the truth? Or was she simply oblivious to it?

    “Again,” Clara said. “Did anyone you know die recently?”

    “Just… just some private investigator that I hired,” Elizabeth said.

    “Just?” Clara prodded.

    “Well… I hired him to look into the disappearance of a friend,” Elizabeth answered.

    “Go on,” Clara said, sending they were on the right track. “How did he die?”

    “Why the sudden—,” Elizabeth started before realising where this was headed. “Police say anti-tank mines went off when he started his car.”

    “That’s not a mundane occurrence around here, I gather?” Clara asked.

    Elizabeth was sipping her drink when the picture came into focus. She spat out the contents of her drink and guffawed.

    “No!” Elizabeth answered.

    When she saw the smirk on Clara’s lips, Elizabeth realised that she had been played.

    “Oh, you’re good,” Elizabeth said.

    “Great-grannies always know best,” Clara said nonchalantly. “Do you know if he was working other cases? Or just yours?”

    “Nothing that deserves this level of response,” Elizabeth said.

    “You think? Or are you certain?” Clara asked.

    “What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked in return.

    “Elizabeth, you need to think big,” Clara said. “We all have instincts, so you just need to trust yours and stop looking at my cleavage.”

    The second statement made her cheeks feel warm. Pretty soon her entire face would flush with blood and all of those telltale signs of embarrassment would be on display, her face flashing like a glitzy billboard of guilt.

    “Victoria?” Elizabeth absentmindedly asked.

    “Your friend?” Clara asked.

    “Wha—Oh! Yes,” Elizabeth answered.

    Elizabeth described the whole story related to Victoria, namely how she vanished after the funeral and left few traces of her whereabouts.

    Clara listened to every word, only breaking her focus every so often to have a sip. Elizabeth talked so much that their drinks went cold before the full story was given.

    “We should take a look at her place,” Clara said then looked around to discover the staff were busy cleaning up for the night. “Think we should call it a night?”

    “What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.

    “You are running on fumes,” Clara said. “So you need time to recover. I can sleep on the couch or even the floor. Assuming you don’t mind…”

    Elizabeth was both anxious about the imposition and relieved that Clara would stay nearby. However, the conflicting emotions caused her head to swirl. Given the fatigue, her mind was too numbed to adequately deal with it.

    Clara got up and grabbed Elizabeth before she passed out, finding it helpful that she was stronger than the average gal. Her new friend was tall, an amazon, easily towering over Clara, and that would have made it difficult to keep her steady under normal circumstances.

    After a few minutes of rifling through the chaos in Elizabeth’s purse, Clara found exactly what she needed, a home address, and with some luck, enough mad money for a cab.

    “Berries,” Clara said. “Now it’s time to get me a dimbox.”

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Friends and Foreplay – Part IV

    Upon leaving the restaurant, Elizabeth noticed that the sun had set. She cursed these short days, since fall would give way to another dreaded winter, and she shivered when a cold stiff breeze ran across her back. Nonetheless, she soldiered on towards the nearest subway station.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    She was frustrated, and who could blame her? Why did no one care? Or even show concern? Was it because she was a social worker? Or had she been a better friend than the rest? It was not like Victoria bothered to send her a message, call, or even mail a postcard to explain her absence. Why even bother when the authorities were unconcerned—

    “Lizzy!” Elizabeth heard from behind.

    When she turned, Elizabeth was faced with the most coincidental of apparitions. This girl had not changed a bit; she was the very same firecracker she dated back in college.

    “Firecracker!” Elizabeth exclaimed before falling into a deep hug.

    That girl felt the same—heck she even smelled just like she remembered her. Their reunion brought a whole slew of good memories to the forefront of her mind.

    “So where’s your father?” Elizabeth asked, remembering the rather serious man she came across while fooling around at this girl’s place.

    Evelyn beamed her trademark smile and said, “Oh, he’s right behind you…”

    Evelyn may have been smiling, but Elizabeth could read between the lines. A sense of dread creeped up from the tips of her toes to the back of her neck, every hair on her body stand out.

    She felt cold and numb, unable to think nor act, even while a tiny voice in her head begged for her to do something… anything! In that moment, Elizabeth was very much like a lamb looking up with big slotted eyes to its executioners.

    “What the f—” Elizabeth said.

    The movement had been so fast that Elizabeth’s eyes nearly missed the change. Evelyn turned to look down at the intersection that ran perpendicular to this road and, just as quickly, shifted her gaze back to Elizabeth. This time, the smile was completely gone. Instead, her mouth hung down limply and her eyes were wide. The shock written on Evelyn’s face was enough for her to risk taking a look, but there was no time.

    Just as she began to move, the sound of a speeding vehicle passed from her left ear and transitioned to her right. While the sound of the engine was intense, it was a gust of wind that followed which sent her into a tailspin.

    Elizabeth’s knees gave out on instinct, just like her arms reached out to protect her face. But before she was able to react, she heard things that would never fade from memory.

    It was hard to describe at first since the entire affair had taken no more than a fraction of a second. Yet her mind clearly registered the sound of metal grinding against brick. That soon changed once the individual materials reached their breaking point.

    Elizabeth picked up the sound of bolts shearing, as well as metal twisting and buckling from the strain. She heard plastic crack, bricks explode, and glass shatter into a thousand pieces, the latter producing a dizzying stereophonic effect. None of this helped to calm her down.

    Elizabeth was not sure if this was real or imagined, especially when she heard something akin to bones being ground into dust. That was the sound that would haunt her in life, an irony, since that was the moment her life had been spared. The crash was finished before Elizabeth reached the ground. Her body shook from the shock and it would take days for her mind to come to terms with what happened.

    “You!” Evelyn shrieked.

    Elizabeth cracked open her eyes and her vision was left blurred from squeezing them shut so tight. Still, she made out that Evelyn was no longer facing her. Confusion ruled over all of her senses because her mind had yet to catch up with what was going on.

    There was a woman to Elizabeth’s left dressed in black leather and holding onto a car door. It was obvious the effects of the door’s weight had no bearing on how she handled herself, something Elizabeth, despite her confusion, found odd.

    She had dark hair, neatly trimmed into a bob, which imbued a boyish look. Between the sharp features of her face, that impish smile, and the shapely body that glistened in black leather, Elizabeth involuntarily let out a soft gasp.

    “Did I miss anything?” Clara quipped.

    Before Elizabeth could say a word, an object streaked before her eyes, heading towards this new arrival. She had seen this type of effect before, but until now, only in photography, specifically long exposure shots captured in low light. Clara’s response was just as fast and the door resounded like a gong before Elizabeth made out the return volley. That sound was soon followed by the sound of someone getting a serious case of road rash.

    Done with her makeshift shield, Clara left the cratered car door in the middle of the intersection. She then removed her coat to unfurl her wings, their movement only perceptible in the shadows.

    To get under her opponent’s skin, Clara asked out loud, “Is this your idea of foreplay, Evelyn?”

    Evelyn lifted herself up from the pavement, her head facing the new arrival. Meanwhile, Elizabeth remained where she was—in awe.

    Evelyn giggled, the musical tones in her voice somehow managing to entice the onlooker, even after a case of attempted murder.

    “What’s wrong with me?” Elizabeth whispered.

    Despite the intoxicating effect she had on Elizabeth, the new arrival remained unmoved.

    Once Evelyn regained her footing, she brushed off any filth from her clothes and said, “You look great for someone of your advanced years. So what’s your secret?”

    Evelyn’s face may have been adorned with a smile, but it was strained to the point of making her lips turn white. Elizabeth cringed. This was the first time she had ever seen that girl lose her composure. Until now, she had always been the perfect fusion of happy-go-lucky and spunky.

    “Death becomes me,” Clara replied.

    “Oh? Not likely with that pulse,” Evelyn said.

    “Like you have a leg to stand on,” Clara countered. “I never knew your kind could fake a pulse… at least, until I met you.”

    Evelyn cocked a brow before she fell into an elaborate and theatrical bow. Even with visible tears in her dress, she exuded an elegance that was hard to achieve.

    “We all have our quirks,” Evelyn said. “My quirks allow me to hide amongst the sheep.”

    The firecracker began a slow and deliberate walk towards Clara. The purposefully elongated gait of her walk forced her hips to sway alluringly, just like a pendulum.

    Clara did not seem to be bothered, nor was she threatened. While Elizabeth could see two pistols bulging from her waist, the woman made no attempt to draw either weapon.

    “There is one big difference between us now,” Clara said to change the subject.

    “Oh?” Evelyn asked.

    Clara nodded before saying, “I shuffled off my mortal coil to get where I am, while yours was forfeit to cling onto this life.”

    “Like that thing ever did me any good,” Evelyn said with disdain dripping from every word.

    While Evelyn continued her advance, Elizabeth spotted a gouge on the back of her left calf. While her alluring sway did much to distract, it also contributed greatly to aggravating the wound. Was Evelyn even alive? There should have been blood gushing from that. Still, it must have taken a great deal of willpower to ignore the pain of tearing flesh from muscle. Evelyn carried on as though it was nothing, but Clara knew better since the face could only hide so much.

    “Is this because her beau helped to cushion my truck’s stop?” Clara wondered.

    Clara watched as the dark haired vixen approached. When they first met, nearly a century ago, she could barely resist Evelyn’s charms. Now she saw the truth behind that thin layer of flesh, the one that so easily disarmed her victims.

    Sooner or later you’d see me as the monster I really am,” Evelyn once told her, and that line had been dead on.

    Clara never noticed before how the remnant of her soul clung to the stunning beauty’s flesh. She could see how damage had accumulated through centuries of wrongdoing, some acts so heinous they were considered war crimes.

    “Here be monsters,” Clara muttered.

    From Evelyn’s point of view, there was only opportunity. She had no reason to believe that her ulterior motives were revealed or oblivious. Some powerful creatures had tried, and failed, to read her.

    “I’ve been thinking,” Evelyn said.

    By that point, Evelyn was a few steps away from Clara and hung back her hand for a moment. This sleight of hand allowed her to conceal her nails transforming into a series of elongated obsidian claws. Elizabeth could see the transformation in all its detail, but could not vocalise a warning.

    “That’s a first,” Clara countered.

    Clara was ready though. Evelyn pounced the moment the words were spoken. Although her movements were accelerated, to Clara, it appeared as a normal attack.

    She could have dodged the attack and prolonged this conflict needlessly. Unfortunately, the woman she saved was no longer the only bystander. A crowd had formed around the wreck and mobile phones were pointed in their direction.

    “Gabriel is so not going to like this,” Clara said, but at this speed the words sounded like a cricket’s chirp.

    Clara had the choice to absorb the blow or attack with intent of disabling her foe. There were risks and rewards to either choice, but both failed to account for a debut incurred long ago.

    Instead, she grabbed Evelyn’s hand by the wrist and absorbed her opponent’s momentum. For a moment, the women were locked in place. Anyone new to the scene would assume this had all been a part of a choreographed dance performance.

    Evelyn tried to counter, but Clara’s grip was strong making her the lesser in this situation. For nearly four centuries, she had hunted with impunity, overpowering her prey at will, and the change in balance left her noticeably unsettled.

    For Elizabeth, this initial interaction between the two had been completely missed. In one moment, Evelyn had been preparing for an attack and in a blink of an eye, Clara was holding Evelyn by the wrist. She saw how Evelyn struggled to gain the upper hand, but that soon became the least of her worries.

    Around the contact point, Evelyn’s arms began to smoke. A strong noxious smell of charred flesh wafted through the area, and despite centuries of self-control, Evelyn was unable to contain the pain.

    Arrêtez! Je vous en supplie!” Evelyn exclaimed while trying to pull away.

    Clara released her grip the moment the other conceded. There was no need to worsen the damage, not unless she was forced to. Evelyn had failed to grasp what her opponent was. As a hunter, her faith could have led to an aversion, or even mild injury, for newly turned vampires. As an angel? Her faith was a thousand times stronger and came with effects to match.

    Et pourquoi, ma belle?” Evelyn asked, having reverted to her native tongue as her mind struggled to come to terms with the pain.

    The hunter had been a witness to such behaviour before. People had a tendency to revert to their mother tongue during moments of great passion or pain. Clara knew that Evelyn was, for the first time in centuries, vulnerable, and that could sour the situation. So that meant the next few moments were crucial to de-escalate matters.

    To confuse anyone listening in on their conversation, Clara replied in Latin, “You would have preferred death?”

    Clara assumed that the imp knew the language. While it was no more than a guess, it quickly turned out to be correct.

    “No one from your order has ever shown us mercy,” Evelyn replied in a rusty Latin.

    “None of your kind has ever shown us any leniency,” Clara said. “Until I crossed your path.”

    Perhaps it was Clara’s smile that convinced the other there were no ulterior motives. It could have been a long buried memory that resurfaced, one related to a chat they shared long ago. No matter, in that moment, Evelyn realised that Clara was holding herself accountable to a promise made long ago.

    Clara reached into her pants pocket and pulled out the absconded phone. Without a second thought, she tossed it over to Evelyn.

    “Here,” Clara said. “Program in what I need to contact you later.”

    Evelyn compiled and tossed the phone back. Elizabeth sensed a change, that Evelyn’s attitude had shifted, and found it eerie. For the life of her, she had no clue what was going on.

    “It appears as though I owe you one?” Evelyn confirmed.

    Without a word, Evelyn was gone, leaving behind a momentary blur in the background that the eye barely registered. Elizabeth shrieked when the truck moved a foot but, when she turned to investigate, there was no sign of her firecracker, nor signs of the man who posed as Evelyn’s father.

    “Are you okay?” Clara said to Elizabeth as she picked up her discarded coat.

    “Define okay,” Elizabeth said.

    With sirens calling out in the distance, Clara approached the other and chuckled. When someone was exposed to the truth at this age, the shock was sometimes too great for their minds to handle.

    Clara reached out with her hand and said, “Come on, let’s go find someplace quiet.”

    Elizabeth hesitated. Normally, she considered herself to be strong and assertive. One had to be when dealing with her type of cases, not to mention the requirement for professionalism, even if her heart was breaking. Still, this was a different matter entirely. No training in the world could have prepared her for this type of event. Nonetheless, this woman did save her life. So, despite the uncertainty, she took hold of the outreached hand.

    Clara grabbed the hand firmly and sent Elizabeth crashing into her chest. With a firm grip, she wrapped her leather coat around the traumatised woman and held on tight.

    “Sometimes it’s best not to let someone in on the plan,” Clara said in a whisper.

    Just as Elizabeth’s mind began to register those words, she heard something that could only be described as a bird of prey taking flight. That had been enough to distract her from thinking about the fact they were airborne, flying over the buildings and away from prying eyes. All of that, would have been a bit much to take in at first.

    On the road’s surface, Clara’s wing were outlined perfectly. That detail would only be noticed on video since bystanders were too busy looking up at the sky.

    “Gabriel is going to be pissed,” Clara said.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


  • Friends and Foreplay – Part III

    Elizabeth sat comfortably at a corner booth, and looked over the expansive park just outside. In the distance, high-rises poked out from above the treeline. There was all sorts of activity going on in between: people jogging, buskers performing, muggers doing their dastardly deeds, and those who spent their days feeding the pigeons. In the background, she heard quiet lounge music and the chitter chatter of people busy with their meals.

    The Van Helsing Resurgence by Evelyn Chartres

    What a shame that she could not order just yet, since she was famished. Elizabeth looked down at her phone and saw that it had been a half-an-hour since her arrival. Unfortunately, Anne would be a while yet before making an entrance. To kill time, she enjoyed the view, thought about her never-ending caseload, and eyed the phone for notifications. This was nothing out of the ordinary when dealing with Anne, but she nonetheless resented that woman for making her wait.

    It had been years since Elizabeth last visited this particular restaurant, and truth be told, it was too rich for her blood. Her career as a social worker, one spent dealing with runaways and abused children, did not grant her a membership to the one-percent club. Places like this trendy restaurant, with its breathtaking view, were nothing more than an indulgence. It was unfortunate that to get Anne’s attention, she needed an appropriate venue to lure her in. That, and pick up the tab.

    After an additional thirty minutes and three visits from the waiter, Elizabeth lost patience and ordered a dry martini to go with her chicken Caesar salad. She reasoned that Anne could order once she arrived, whenever that happened to be.

    As fate would have it, just as she handed back her menu, a tall rotund brunette came through the front door dressed in designer clothing. Clearly, that dress had to be couture, because it did a wonderful job of drawing the eyes away from certain attributes while focusing them elsewhere, in this case, that rather generous cleavage.

    Elizabeth, in contrast, was a graceful and a modern woman, at least when judged by her haircut and mixed-race facial features. She had once been described as striking, a flawless beauty despite that slight scar just above her left eyebrow. While nearly invisible to most, it was a constant reminder about children and the dangerous games they played.

    Anne looked around the restaurant until she caught a glimpse of Elizabeth waving. She then flashed a fake smile before sauntering towards the corner booth.

    “Lizzy!” Anne exclaimed.

    Anne reached out for Elizabeth who got up in time to hug. Despite Anne wearing heels, Elizabeth towered over her friend, even in flats.

    “Anne! Always a pleasure. Was it a busy day at the courts?” Elizabeth asked.

    This would give Anne the chance to come up with an excuse for being over an hour late. Elizabeth often wondered why she did not set appointments with Anne an hour earlier. That way, Anne would be on time, or at least from Elizabeth’s perspective.

    “You know how it is,” Anne said in reply while perusing the menu nonchalantly. “What are today’s specials?”

    Anne used that question as a way to change the subject. She also noted that her friend had ordered without her, a trend she found disturbing.

    “I can’t, for the life of me, remember what the waiter said,” Elizabeth replied thinking that the lunch specials were no longer being offered, seeing how they ended at two. “I just ordered a salad and a drink.”

    Hopefully, Anne would get the hint that this was not a sky’s the limit type of outing, Though she feared there might be some sort of penance to be paid for ordering early.

    Fortunately, the waiter showed up just in time to break up the conversation. Elizabeth took in a quick sip of her drink and enjoyed how the alcohol burned the tip of her tongue. It had been a while since she last indulged in a stiff drink, and she would need a few more before this day was done.

    Nonetheless, she watched with interest as Anne ordered a soup and sandwich special, along with a cosmopolitan. That choice had been appreciated, since it softened the blow to her pocketbook.

    “Is that a ring on your finger?” Anne asked, noting the simple white-gold band.

    Elizabeth smiled warmly and blushed before replying, “Yes. I got married a few months ago.” Her smile grew exponentially before she continued, “I married a lovely singer-songwriter named Mary Scott. We met a few years back at one of her concerts.”

    In fact, this was something that Anne should have known. Had she bothered to look at Elizabeth’s Bealzabook profile.

    Elizabeth digressed and added, “She’s on a country-wide tour, so we’ve not seen much of each other lately.”

    “Hmmmmm,” Anne replied, the look on her face, making it clear that she was bored. “Sorry to hear… So why did you want to see me today?”

    Quick and to the point. A refreshing change for her friend, but where did that come from? Throughout college, Elizabeth had never known that woman to be straightforward on anything.

    Elizabeth began to question if Anne’s discomfort had something to do with her choice of spouse? Or was it the level of commitment and dedication shown for another? She had one sure-fire way to find out, so her eyes dropped down a few degrees and focused on Anne’s ample bust.

    “When was the last time you remember seeing Victoria?” Elizabeth asked, all the while keeping an eye out for any telltale signs of discomfort.

    True to form, Anne shifted slightly to avoid the gaze and uttered a befuddled response, “Not sure. I think it may have been a few weeks before the funeral.”

    That question caught Anne off guard almost as much as Elizabeth leering. Why was she being asked such a question? Unable to ask without appearing insensitive, she tossed the ball back to the other’s court.

    “You?” Anne asked.

    “I was at the funeral. Do you remember how dreary it was that day? I don’t think anyone managed to exchange more than a couple of words with her. A handful of us were there for support, but she wasn’t really there,” Elizabeth said. “You know?”

    Elizabeth paused to take another sip of her drink. She then looked towards the kitchen and wondered why their food was taking so long. After all, salad and cold chicken did not require a great deal of preparation.

    “No one has seen hide nor hair of her since…” Elizabeth trailed off.

    “No one has seen her since the funeral?” Anne asked with a hint of shock in her voice. “Wasn’t that last year?”

    “Actually, it was two years ago. Shortly after the funeral, she moved out of the estate, quit her job, and then—poof!” Elizabeth said.

    Since Elizabeth worked primarily with children who had a habit of running away, those actions showed up as red flags. Of course, one had to wonder what Victoria was running from.

    “No updates on Bealzabook, her name isn’t listed in the phone book, her mobile was disconnected, and no one I know has seen her in years,” Elizabeth said.

    “Really?” Anne asked.

    The waiter brought Anne’s drink, who then gulped half of it down as a diversion.

    “So why tell me all of this?” Anne asked.

    Elizabeth sighed seeing as this would end up being another dead-end. Either way, she asked, “You’ve known her much longer than anyone else. I met her in college where we shared a few electives. That led to us teaming up for projects, and she ended up dragging me to those horror movie marathons. Still, you must know something? You’ve known her since high school.”

    Anne sensed where this was heading and hated being lured here for this. Had it really been that long since she had last seen Victoria? While they were not the best of friends, the two had followed each other through the academy, college, and law school. She even took advantage of the vacuum Victoria left by quitting her law firm, even though several clients subsequently changed firms once they got their corrected bills.

    To avoid the subject further, she deflected once more by asking something in return, “Perhaps she found herself a man?”

    Elizabeth scoffed at the idea. Anne was lucky that her friend had not been sipping her drink in that moment.

    “You remember what happened with Marcus back in college? I doubt she ever really recovered from that,” Elizabeth said. She then cocked her head and asked in return, “Weren’t you and Marcus an item?”

    Anne turned white as a sheet and failed to reply. Elizabeth knew that Anne had been instrumental in getting Marcus away from Victoria, although that was not necessarily a herculean feat. Marcus was known for his fetishes throughout college, and since Victoria was not putting out, the rest was history. Anne was a woman who squirted on command, the least risqué of skills in her sexual repertoire, and that got his attention. In the end, it was a choice between gaining access to a family fortune in the distant future, or a quick lay. Funny how that choice seemed so simple in retrospect.

    However, Elizabeth was not aware that Anne and Marcus were still a thing, available on speed-dial day or night, with no strings attached. Fortunately, Victoria never learned of the true reason of their breakup, but the way that man left her certainly merited him a special place in hell. Elizabeth had been the one left holding the pieces and spent more than her fair share of time watching horror movies with the devastated woman. Thankfully, the tapes had worn out, which granted her a merciful reprieve.

    They ate in silence once the food arrived. Elizabeth was not yet done with this conversation, but felt that Anne needed to regain her composure. She kept busy by thinking back to her college days, specifically, when her interests in men came to an end and she realised how thankful she was for not ending up with her own version of Marcus. Sure, men were fine but none ever left her feeling satiated.

    It was nothing more than a stroke of luck that she met her true calling for partners. Youthful, and full of spirit, a firecracker really, she had piercing green eyes and a smile that entranced. These were all traits typically found in a freshman art student. She was the reason Elizabeth liked women, along with a renewed appreciation for the arts.

    Elizabeth had fond memories of that relationship, including one that involved a lot of paint, long rolls of paper, and their naked bodies. That summer had passed by like a dream and she often wondered what ever happened to her.

    Oddly enough, the musical tones in Mary’s voice had the same intoxicating effects on her. While a coincidence, it created an immediate bond with Mary, a secret that Elizabeth would take to her grave.

    “So, I hired a private investigator,” Elizabeth said.

    She was about finished eating the last leaf of the salad. In some cultures, it was seen as a sign of respect to leave something on the plate, and she began to wonder if Anne had ever heard of that particular custom.

    Anne put down her fork and sighed, All the while trying to come up with an excuse that would get her out of this. Unfortunately, nothing she thought of, would let her off the hook, or at least not without painting her as some sort of monster.

    “Why are you so worried about her anyway? People like her don’t just disappear, you know? The media would be in a frenzy if she did,” Anne said.

    “I thought of that. Still it doesn’t make sense that she would just drop.” Elizabeth said after she polished off her drink.

    As though reading her mind, the waiter brought in a fresh martini.

    “I asked the foundation looking after her parent’s affairs about her, but they refused to tell me anything. Mind you, this company is renowned for protecting the privacy of their clients,” Elizabeth said.

    Before Anne could reply, Elizabeth added more to the narrative, “I came across a car salesman at a local bar. He kept on bitching about some frost queen that almost got him fired. So I flirted a bit, and he confessed that Victoria bought a car! That one nearly blew my mind.”

    “No doubt,” Anne said nonchalantly, but she did agree in retrospect.

    “Even that was over a year ago. So when I asked the PI, he looked into the matter and found out that her car was registered to the foundation. The address also matched the one for their corporate headquarters,” Elizabeth said.

    Elizabeth began to question why she even bothered to tell Anne any of this. Could this woman to be more self-absorbed? Nonetheless, she carried on because it felt more like a confession at this point.

    “That, in itself, is not out of the ordinary for those who are well off,” Elizabeth said. After a brief pause, she added, “Eventually, he managed to break into the foundation’s computer system and found the address for a unit along the park. When I visited, the place looked deserted, but there was a pungent odour coming from a broken window.”

    Elizabeth was parched, so she finished half the glass and noted that Anne had made no progress on hers.

    “I tried to tell the doorman, but he insisted everything was fine and not to worry. That’s the most tight-lipped bastard I ever met… then I read the newspaper.”

    “News?” Anne asked, this time appearing to be genuinely interested, but Elizabeth found it difficult to be certain.

    Elizabeth nodded and said. “Remember a few weeks back, some news about a car bombing in a parking garage near here?”

    “That was him?” Anne asked loud enough for most of the restaurant to overhear. Then she covered her mouth, calmed down, and spoke in a hushed voice, “I thought they said it was a gas leak?”

    “One of the investigators on the case is a big fan of my wife’s music. So he let me in on some of the details,” Elizabeth said.

    To fuck with Anne! Elizabeth began to stare at her cleavage and this time with far less discretion. In itself, that was not a difficult task, since the woman was facing forward.

    “To his knowledge, Russian anti-tank mines and ruptured gas mains are not normal occurrences in this city,” Elizabeth added.

    This time, Anne said nothing, nor did she move to avert Elizabeth’s gaze. The social worker grinned, finished off her drink, and set the glass down loudly on the table. To watch Anne jump. For a moment, they laughed, but it was obvious that their nerves were frayed.

    In trying to calm her nerves, Anne said, “You can’t be serious!”

    “Ah, but I am,” Elizabeth replied. “Two days ago, that doorman went missing,” she added realising how ridiculous this all sounded.

    Anne’s eyes grew wide before she stuttered, “Really?”

    She then looked at her own phone and triggered an app that made the phone vibrate.

    “Oh look at the time!” Anne exclaimed while she got up and smiled meekly. “I have a very important appointment with a client. It’s been a pleasure. So, next time lunch is on me?”

    Of course, Elizabeth knew this was nothing more than an excuse. Should she expect any different from Anne? Truth be told, this had been the fourth friend she sought in as many weeks. Every time she was met with the same detached attitude, and nonchalance, always coming up empty handed.

    “With friends like you, why would Victoria need any enemies?” Elizabeth shouted as Anne left the restaurant.

    Frustrated, the social worker ordered another drink, and dropped her card on the table to pay her tab. With no desire to see the tally, she told the server to add up the gratuity himself. That way, she could avoid seeing the damage until her credit card statement arrived. Bored, she went back to people-watching and nursed her drink.

    Disclaimer: This chapter is currently in development. There are likely typos, errors, omissions, inconsistencies and so forth. Please do not treat this as a polished and completed work!


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