DISCLAIMER: Blade: The Series and its characters are the property of Spike TV, New Line Cinema and Marvel Comics . No infringement intended.
WARNING: Slight bloodplay and bondage (it's Krista/Chase, that's half the fun!).
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The five years since the fall of the House of Chthon hadn't slowed Blade down a step. In point of fact, ever since he'd gotten back from his training exodus with Master Wu, he'd become even more proficient in the use of his sword and body as dual weapons. It more than made up for the loss of his eye, the reminder covered by a black leather eyepatch with lockpicks built into the inside.
For her part, Krista had become remarkably proficient in the little time she had been involved in their fight.. Although the bounty placed on her head by the now long-dead Marcus had rendered her into too much of a celebrity to retry the lightning-in-a-bottle undercover strategy, her marksmanship made her the most trusted weapon in Blade's arsenal. Ever since she'd gotten used to the weight of silver-core bullets, she'd re-perfected her sniper skills and was now able to hit a suckhead at three miles' distance. That was her job now.
She was perched atop a billboard, picking off any who fled from the vampire safehouse Blade was clearing out. He didn't trust her for up close and personal fighting yet. The scars from where Lord Calos had whipped her hadn't healed yet, despite the new serum she was using. Gave her more time to practice with her own sword. Things came in handy, despite the way she had dismissed them as obsolete when she'd first met Blade.
Krista heard two clicks on her headset, Blade's signal for all clear. She took the opportunity to reload her rifle and relaxed a little. Hard part was over. She switched off the infrared on her scope and stared at the safehouse as the door was thrown open. The woman behind it almost made Krista pull the trigger.
Blade had finally caught up with Chase.
Blade didn't stop for chitchat. Just threw the manacled Chase into the backseat of his Dodge Charger and drove off into the night. Krista had to hoof it back to their own safehouse, jumping from rooftop to rooftop like she was goddamn Batman or something. Shen was already waiting for her when she got there. The years had prematurely aged him. His new goatee was speckled with white and the lines of his face had set into a tenacious, bulldog pattern.
"Why didn't you tell me you had a lead on Her?" Krista asked. It was never "Chase," always "Her" or "the Bitch" or "That vampire."
"Because he didn't want you seeing red. We agreed that if you knew about Chase, you'd insist on charging in there regardless of the risks."
"Like we do every other day?"
"For every other vampire. Chase isn't every other vampire."
Krista rolled her eyes. "You think I can't handle her?"
"I think you don't want to."
Krista frowned. How far away was Chase? Thirty feet? Twenty feet? Ten feet? The next room? And yet the Bitch was still making her blood boil. "I have to talk to her."
"Be my guest." Blade stepped out of the retrofitted decompression chamber which served as their prison cell. So it was the next room. His knuckles were red before he wiped them off with a greasy rag. "I can't get anything out of her."
Krista nodded. Thought about it. Picked up a smooth silver stake and walked towards the chamber.
Blade grabbed her arm. "Make sure you're doing it for the right reasons."
Krista stared at him. The smooth black expanse of his eyepatch blurring the canvas of his face. It was widely held that they were lovers among the hunter community, who were widely wrong. Especially Hannibal, who joked about "those two crazy kids" at every opportunity. Still, they had gotten closer in the past few years and could read each other like a book.
"I am," she said, and went in, closing the reinforced door behind her.
Chase hadn't aged a day. Krista didn't know why she had expected her to. Maybe she was just in love with the Australian ending up as a sort of vampiric Miss Havisham. Maybe the alternative was that she was Miss Havisham. Maybe she should stop reading Dickens.
"Well, Krista. I meant to call," Chase said, mock-innocently. Krista didn't think she could pull off actual innocence.
Blade was not a subtle man. A blood bruise was spreading across the side of Chase's chin and her lip was bloodied. Krista felt the sudden, irrational, and ultimately familiar urge to wipe the blood away, to do something to ease Chase. Chase read the desire on her like words off a page. She laughed, a frightful thing.
"Same old Krista. Always wanting what you can't have."
Krista frowned and held up her right hand. The stake shined in the dull light.
"That for me, love? You shouldn't have."
"You're afraid," Krista said confidently.
"Of you? Never."
It was a mix of insult and endearment, and thus utterly Chase. Krista fought to keep her hand from faltering. So many nights, dreaming of her revenge and now all she wanted was for things to go back to the way they had been.
"I " Krista's face hardened and her resolve set. "I need to know where the nest is. I know you're working gun-for-hire now. Morocco, Algeria, Ireland damnit, Chase, why'd you have to come back to the States?"
It was the first time Krista had said her name since the night Chase had run off, three years ago. She remembered the night like it was yesterday, even through the haze of the weeks following the departure. For once, Blade had respected her feelings and not subjected her to a barrage of questions. It was obvious what had happened. Krista had gotten too close and it had cost her.
"Always thought you were coming after me. Thought I'd make it easier for you." Chase looked up at Krista, meeting her eyes. "Come on, Krista. Finish it."
Krista could recite the places by heart. In her sleep. "Darfur. Chad. Wakanda. Madagascar. New Zealand. Australia. Colombia. Cuba. Scattered sightings around Europe."
"You have been a busy little beaver." Chase smirked. "Even I can't remember being to all those places."
"You were looking for something?"
"Just going where the wind blew me. Though visiting the old homestead was fun. Turns out you can go home again, but home has moved on without you. Drawbacks of immortality."
"That why you didn't come back?"
"To the cause? Or to you?"
Krista felt her lip quiver. She slammed the stake down in Chase's thigh, smiling a little and wincing a little as the meat of Chase's leg flamed red and atomized. She pulled the stake out before the effect could spread too wide. Chase hadn't cried out, but it was obviously an effort. She hissed breath in and out, the color having left her face.
"You think I won't kill you?" Krista asked, wiping the ash off the blade.
"If you had wanted to kill me, you would've done it a long time ago." Chase gulped. "Guess you had other plans."
"Plans I thought we shared. You helped us. Holden. Mathis. Bluthal. Bayldon. The entire House of Falsworth, for God's sake. You racked up quite a body count for our side. We... racked up quite a body count. Left a lot of ashes on the floor," Krista added, quickly covering.
"It wasn't just business!" Krista insisted, straddling Chase's lap. The proximity made both of them uncomfortable and something else, that heady feeling run taut through the room, intensified. "If it was just business, we wouldn't have--"
"You thought I was in love with you?" Chase bit her lower lip to keep from giggling. "The only reason I joined your team because it was convenient to my needs."
"And fucking me? What was that?"
"That was fucking you, darling. I enjoyed it for what it was, but you got hung up on it like a virgin on prom night. Not my fault you didn't know going in what I was."
"I thought you had changed," Krista said softly.
"When you've been around for as long as I have, you don't change anymore." There was a touch of wistfulness in her voice. Krista thought it meant that Chase wished she could change, but Krista couldn't be sure.
"Can't teach an old bitch new tricks, huh?"
Chase spread her legs slightly, despite the pain that must've come from moving her wounded thigh. Krista held the stake over the intended invitation.
"You'd probably enjoy that, wouldn't you? Pleasure, pain, it's all the same to you. You live too long. You're dead to the world around you."
"You really should stop talking to yourself. Nasty habit."
Krista shoved the stake into Chase's mouth. The tip scraped against the back of the blonde's throat.
"I'm nothing like you."
Chase leaned her head forward, forcing the stake deeper into her mouth. In a moment, it would pierce the flesh. Krista pulled the stake away, saliva dripping off it, and Chase laughed uproariously.
"I know why you left," Krista said, shutting Chase up. "You were afraid of me."
"Please. Just because you threw me down the stairs once doesn't mean I couldn't take you in a--"
"Not like that." Krista leaned forward predatorily, nose to nose with Chase. "Talk all you want about how ruthless you are, but how the hell does it serve your needs to piss off both the vampires and the vampire hunters. No, you had a pretty sweet deal. Then you ditched us so, what, you could wander across the world in hellholes you would've have used to touch with a ten mile pole? Something's up."
For once, Chase remained resolutely silent.
"What was it, Chase? Did I make you feel something you hadn't felt before? Maybe you were just worried about when the hammer would drop, so you decided to end things on your terms. Because you couldn't stand being out of control, even in love. Am I getting warm?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Chase snapped. "You kept the bed nice and toasty. That was it."
"Did it hurt? Being away from me, I mean. That's why you came back, isn't it? That's why there are all those messages on my answering machine. Called and then hung up, like a nervous schoolgirl."
"Shut up!" Chase snarled.
"Can't live with me, can't live without me. All because you had a good thing and you screwed it up. So I wonder who you hate more, me or yourself."
Chase charged forward, biting into Krista's face and ripping away a chunk of her cheek. Krista smiled, the gesture pulling the exposed muscles taut, and backed away. She held up a hand to her face to stem the bleeding. Blood trickled out between her fingers and more than anything Chase wanted... wanted to...
"Do I taste like you remember, 'darling'?"
To Krista's great amusement, Chase spat out her pound of flesh. Krista walked out, leaving Chase alone with her tears and the taste of Krista still lingering on her lips.
A dose of her serum and a night's rest had mostly restored Krista's cheek, leaving only a craggy patch of scar tissue. She wore it proudly. Scars were the only badges of honor that hunters allowed themselves. When she came back the next morning, Shen looked at her with concern, Blade with the usual stoicism.
"Did you feed her through the night?" Krista asked.
"Yeah, we threw in a virgin in a nightgown around nineish, hope you don't mind," Shen said sarcastically.
"You're sure you can break her?" Blade said. "No problems remaining emotionally detached?"
Krista smiled, nearly cracking the scab. "I've already broken her. She thinks I'm still the same old Krista she knew and fucked. She doesn't know the half of it. I can play her like a violin. Just watch."
The allergic reaction to silver had burnt deep into Chase's leg. Krista even caught a glimpse of bone as she bandaged the wound, wrapping linen soaked in balm around Chase's thigh. She was half-kneeling between Chase's legs and therefore expecting Chase, who was seated in a wooden chair with her hands cuffed behind her back, to try something. But all Chase did was lean her head forward and rest it on Krista's shoulder.
"Get off me," Krista said, not sure if she meant it. Hoping she did.
Chase bared her fangs perilously close to Krista's ear. The memories of Chase gnawing on her sweetly dragged at Krista like an undertow. "You don't mean that."
Krista jerked her head back, leaving Chase hanging. The Australian's blonde hair, dirty and matted from her captivity, fell forward over her face. Chase spoke through it, a siren song.
"You know what I want. I can smell it on you. C'mon. Just a taste. To whet my appetite." Chase threw her hair back and gave Krista a beauty queen smile. "I'll be a good little girl, promise."
Krista stood back up, towering over the sitting Chase. Chase stared at her breasts, which she was now almost at eye level with, watching eagerly as Krista pulled out the blood bag from her jacket. She stared at it, transfixed. B Negative, hard to find, with a tang to it. Chase let the scent of it waft over her, right through the plastic bag it was held captive in.
"Where's the nest?" Krista asked, squeezing the blood bag regularly, making it pump as if it were a human heart.
Chase rubbed her thighs together involuntarily. "If I tell you, they'll kill me."
"And Blade won't."
"You won't." A moment passed as they both acknowledged it. "Guess that's something. The nest's at 31st and Riverline. But they won't be there."
"Where will they be?"
"Let me taste it," Chase demanded petulantly. "You promised."
Chase watched as Krista sliced open the blood bag with a fingernail, a wide smile running across her face. She nearly kicked her heels in excitement. Krista walked towards Chase, letting the scent of the blood drive the other woman into a frenzy. Each footstep reverberated through the chamber like bells in a cathedral. Chase managed to pull her eyesight away from the bag and look up into Krista's eyes. Uncompromising, stoic. Krista lurched forward, resting one knee on the chair between Chase's legs, her kneecap an inch from Chase's pussy. Chase resisted the urge to jerk her hips forward into the almost-contact.
Krista held the bag up in both hands, cut turned up, and Chase didn't waste any time. She dove into it, blood spurting over both of them. Krista winced as flecks of plasma smirched her face. Chase's throat gulped repeatedly, a rhythm to it that Krista enjoyed watching. Chase's feeding was always a fucking sight to behold. Whatever she ate, she enjoyed it so thoroughly that it was irresistibly vivacious. Finally, Chase exhausted the ready supply of blood. She licked the bag clean, not stopping even when it had fallen out of Krista's hands and she was licking Krista's palms, sucking on her fingers, Krista lost in the sensation before the ex-Marine pulled her hands away and wiped them on her pants.
Chase's face was red with blood, smudged on her nose and chin like grease on a mechanic. "More more "
Krista grabbed Chase's face, pulling her eyelids open with her thumbs, forcing the blonde to look at her. "Where are they going to be?"
Chase licked her lips. "You had your fingers up your cunt last night," Chase said, already sounding more confident now that she had fresh blood in her. "I could taste it under your fingernails. Thinking of me?"
Krista pulled her jacket open, revealing her tightly clinging shirt and another bag of blood held over her heart. "Where?"
"A raid on an apartment complex, Lakeside Way. They'll cordon it off, start on the ground floors and work their way up. I've seen them do it. Brutal and inefficient, but effective. Now give me some."
Feeling in a generous mood, Krista drew out the blood bag.
"Not that. I've had my fill. Something sweeter."
Krista endearingly wiped the blood from Chase's nose. "If I thought for one second you really wanted to, and this wasn't just another power play "
She walked off, unable to finish the sentence.
"You're welcome!" Chase shouted after her.
The attack on the nest went well, all things considered. Blade and Krista stopped the Lakeside Way raid while Shen planted explosives in the nest. The fighting was rough and tumble for a bit, but they got through, Blade with his katana, Krista with an M-16 rifle and enough bullets to close out a silver mine. Although a few civilians had been fed upon, there were no permanent injuries.
All thanks to Chase.
Krista turned that thought over in her mind. No matter which direction it was facing, it didn't make sense. Chase as an ally hadn't made sense even when they were lovers, it made less sense now. Like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole, Krista had plumbed new depths of ludicrousness.
What to do with her now, though? Couldn't just kill Chase could they? Couldn't set her free, definitely. But they couldn't imprison and feed her indefinitely. And they couldn't trust her again, now after her first betrayal.
"Chase will have more information," Blade said. "Ever since Chthon went down, she's worked for all the major vampire houses. That's information we can't ignore. Keep pumping her. She keeps producing intel, she keeps getting fed. Simple as that."
"And when she runs out of intel?" Krista had to ask.
Blade looked at her, almost offended. "We'll burn that bridge when we come to it. If you want to think of it this way, Chase has that long to get her act together. I buy that she'll go on the serum willingly, I'll give her the same deal you got."
"Shen's not going to like it." It had been five years since Chase had tortured him, but Shen had a long memory. You don't forget things like that.
"Shen'll grin and bear it. Just like you. Talk to Chase again. I don't care what you have to do, but bring me something useful. I want a new target before they realize they're compromised."
Chase watched, her hands still securely fastened behind her back, as Krista dragged a bathtub into the cell.
"I'm going to get sores," Chase complained. "Don't bitches get to go for walks? I'll even wear a leash..."
"Maybe some other time." Krista closed the door behind her and ran her hand through the surface of the water. "Still like your baths hot enough to cook lobsters in?"
"I still prefer them with company." Chase smiled recklessly.
"Sorry, I take showers nowadays."
"Yeah, I'll bet you do. Trouble with showers is, you never can be sure you get clean in all those nice little nooks and crannies where all the fun stuff goes on."
Krista brandished a knife. Switchblade. Chase remembered giving it to the brunette for her birthday. Seemed like the kind of thing a Marine would like. The metal wasn't silver, but it would still hurt like hell. Face emotionless, Krista moved the point of the blade under Chase's necklace and pulled it up to the light.
"You still wear that old thing?"
"It goes with my eyes."
"I gave it to you, remember? To replace Marcus's."
"Oh, did you now? Didn't recall."
Instead of ripping the necklace away, Krista moved the knife down, cutting through the wool of Chase's tight sweater. Once it had been severed from end to end, she pushed the remainder down Chase's arms, leaving the sweater still attached in the back.
"What's the occasion?" Chase asked, nodding towards the tub. "Running low on bubble bath and decided to favor me with the last eeks?"
"Your stench was beginning to offend me."
"Oooh. Assertive, aren't we?" Chase clapped her hands. Since they were behind her back, some of the effect was lost. "So, how was the slaughter?"
Chase noticed something behind her hair. Come to think of it, it wasn't like Krista to let her hair hang down in front of her face like a Japanese ghosty girl. "What's that on your face?"
Self-consciously, Krista turned the unblemished side of her face towards Chase. "A scratch. Nothing more."
"Let me see," Chase insisted.
"Don't feign concern." Krista cut off the back of Chase's sweater and threw it aside, leaving Chase in a blouse. "It's tacky."
An idea struck Chase. "Let me see and you get one free question."
Krista pulled back. On the one hand, Chase's concern was an obvious ploy. It was pathetic, really. Thinking she could just show Krista some attention and everything could go back to normal. But on the other hand, Chase's strange sense of honor wouldn't let her back out on the promise she had just made. And Krista couldn't pass up a chance at blowing past all the wheedling and threatening to get one, clear answer.
Turning her face upwards to the light, Krista pulled back her hair. The cut was still held together by surgical wire, uglier and meaner than the now healed wound that Chase had inflicted on Krista's cheek. It ran from temple to jawline; an inch to the right and it would've taken an eye with it.
Chase gasped, out loud, not one of her mocking ones, but almost sub-vocal. Krista didn't know why. Probably because the bitch regretted not being able to do it herself, she reasoned.
"I got sloppy. That's all there is to it."
Chase's lip twitched in sympathy. She moved her head forward, resting her forehead against Krista's. "He made you feel it, didn't he? Bastard. I hope he died screaming."
Krista smiled despite herself. Same old Chase. "He did."
Like a child who had just been told their bedtime story had a happy ending, Chase's dark mood instantly fled. She inquired, in a chipper voice, "Hurts?"
"Only like hell," Krista said, equally jovial. As always, Chase's larger-than-life moods were infectious.
"Here," Chase said, baring her throat.
"What are you doing?"
"I know you don't imbibe, so take some of my blood. Freely offered."
Krista caught a glimpse of her reflection in the knife blade. She began efficiently sawing through the front of Chase's blouse. "No. I won't."
Chase grunted derisively. Krista couldn't look her in the eyes. "So it's good enough to feed me with, but not good enough to take yourself. You are a natural born martyr, Krista. It must not bother you, killing other vampires."
Krista sliced through the blouse's hemline. She opened it up and pushed it down Chase's arms to pool around her manacled wrists. Chase's bra-covered breasts were flush from her recent feeding, still defying gravity with nary a trace of sag. She could be a college freshman. Do one of those "Never Been Kissed" things, if it weren't for the age in her eyes and the insanity.
"I'm not a vampire," Krista said patiently. "I'm a human with a a condition." She looked up at Chase angrily. Anger was good. Anger could be a shield. "A condition your boss fucking gave me!"
Chase tilted her head back and laughed. "Oh, that is rich! A human when was the last time you got a tan, Kristy? Going on six years now. The first decade's the hardest."
"This one of your warped bonding attempts?" Krista said, tired of it all. Same old Chase, again.
"No, this is reality. You kill vampires. For fun. Have you ever considered how sociopathic that is? You are a vampire! You know that they have thoughts, feelings, emotions, memories, lovers, friends "
"And so do the people they kill." Krista cut through Chase's bra in one clean stroke.
"You have to break eggs to make omelets. So what if you sacrifice a few quarter-lives to make a full one? Most people never really live anyway. Didn't you see Braveheart?" Chase noticed that Krista was hesitating, the knife still hovering in the air between him. "That as deep as you're going to go? C'mon, have yourself some fun. It'll all grow back anyway next time you feed me."
Krista retracted the blade and shoved it into her pocket, then went to work undoing Chase's belt buckle, determined for neither of them to enjoy it.
"Us elite," Chase said, encompassing both of them in the description. "We only hunt for the occasional pleasure, the rest we get from the farms and blood banks. The others, those street scum vampires you love to thresh by the dozens, are just addicts. You don't see anyone going around putting stakes in Robert Downey Jr.'s heart, do you?"
Krista yanked the belt from its loops and threw it away. "Get to the point, would you please?"
Chase held still as Krista tugged her pants down. "I just want you to admit that killing vampires is just as insane as feeding on people. Except feeding is a biological necessity " The pants came down her thighs. Chase gave Krista a little shimmy as they did. "And, of course, I don't act all holier-than-thou about it."
"You want me to admit that what I do is fucked up? Fine. It's fucked up." Chase lifted her feet so Krista could take the pants all the way off. "But if you hadn't killed my brother, I wouldn't be doing this."
"So it's all my fault then." Chase shut her legs, complicating the task as Krista tried to pull her panties off. "I suppose I'm also the one who sent your brother into the lion's den as a spy."
"Blade did what he had to. We all do."
"Well, I'll give the B-man this much. He comes by his hatred honestly. Tries to get rid of self-loathing by killing the things that remind him of himself. Pathological, really. Guy needs a Dr. Phil intervention. Shen, him I can understand. Dead sister or something, right? I don't begrudge him his vendetta."
Exasperated, Krista took out the knife and cut Chase's panties clean off, nicking her hips in the process. "What do you know about vendettas? You don't know what motivates them. It's pain. Real, human pain. You don't know anything about that."
"Pain." Chase felt blood trickle down the sides of her legs as Krista hauled her to her feet. "Like when you threw me down a flight of stairs, that kind of pain?"
"No, like when you snuck away like a thief in the night." Krista shoved Chase into the tub. "You didn't even say goodbye, you fucking whore!"
Chase surfaced, wet hair plastered down her scalp. "Oh, when are you going to get over that?"
"When I get an explanation!"
"Here's one: I was bored of you. Your constant, insipid whining. Your vainglorious posturing over how 'human' you were, how so very moral and goody two-shoes you were for not drinking blood. How you looked down on me even while I helped you fulfill those urges you don't even like to admit you had. I needed to feel flesh under my teeth again before I began living some half-life, like you do. I left because I stopped loving you and started resenting you for what you had reduced me to. I don't know what a vendetta is? I know what it is to hate. And despite the barnyard noises you used to make with Marcus, it's not at all like love!"
Hissing, Krista bit down on Chase's neck. Chase felt the familiar, but long-absent feeling of being fed upon. She moaned and arched into the contact, not opening her eyes until Krista pulled away, horrified. Chase glanced sidelong at Krista with slanted eyes. The brunette was frantically wiping at her mouth with her sleeve.
"Been a while, hasn't it? Does Blade know you have a taste for human blood?"
Krista frowned. Then she picked up a washcloth and dunked it in the water repeatedly before wringing it out.
"Don't forget to wash behind my ears," Chase mocked, happy at Krista's temporary demotion to washing duty.
"That's not where you're dirty."
Krista moved the washcloth between Chase's legs, rubbing with slow and consistent motions. Chase struggled to keep a poker face on as Krista, smirking, pressed harder. A brief wince caught Krista's eye; the brunette had entered Chase for a short moment.
"That does absolutely nothing for me," Chase bluffed.
Krista rubbed faster.
"I know it doesn't No flesh rending, no blood pouring. That's your problem, Chase, you never had any appreciation for the delicacies of love-making "
With her other hand, Krista rubbed soap over Chase's breasts, working up a thick lather. Chase could feel the Dove inscription on the bar of soap as it ran over her nipples. She gritted her teeth.
"Just wham, bam, thank you ma'am with you," Krista continued. "Never the slow heat, burning within your breast. Making you yearn, making you wet, making you need."
"Sending mixed signals, aren't we?" Chase said. The blood dripping from where Krista had bit her had reached the water. It expanded into a spreading puddle of bloody water. "I thought you weren't interested in renewing old relationships."
"I'm not," Krista said, rubbing faster and faster. "I just want to fuck you " she pushed all of her fingers inside Chase, watching the blonde break with a scream, "over."
Krista ducked Chase under the water, holding her under for a minute before pulling her back up.
"There. You're clean. Why don't you soak a little while and think about your future?"
The washcloth drifted to the surface as Krista left. Even after Chase managed to wriggle her cuffed hands in front of her, she still couldn't masturbate to a satisfying climax.
It was alright. She would make Krista pay for it next time.
It was three days before Chase saw Krista again. Chase was dressed in a simple white nightgown with shoulder straps that clicked together so that no one had to take off her cuffs to dress or undress her. One of the new ones, Oats, brought her food, run-offs from a butcher shop primarily. It gave her sustenance, but no satisfaction. They were saving Krista for that.
Oats himself was a peculiar case. Chase remembered seeing him back when she was part of the squad, a traumatized orphan whose family had been killed by vampire mobsters. Blade had taken Oats under his protection and Chase could recall exchanging maybe half a dozen words with the frightened, fragile lad. Now he was a teenager, hard and cold as all the rest of them, if not as scarred. He didn't make any show of recognizing her and she of him.
"Blade-in-training?" she sniped at him once, and he backhanded her for her troubles. After that, she kept her mouth shut when he fed her. But she remembered his older, leaner face. He had made the list.
Three days passed and Krista finally stopped by again, healed and happy on serum. Chase smirked at her.
"Paying me another house call? How thoughtful of you. Any juicy gossip to share?"
Krista was all-business. "The House of Oravon. You used to do dirty work for them." She opened her coat. The blood bag was hanging from the usual place. "Tell us the particulars and "
"I'm all full up on blood, for the moment. Wouldn't want to stuff myself. I might wind up dragging some thunder thighs around, like you. Don't trouble yourself, I've always thought that fat-bottomed girls make the rocking world go 'round."
"A Queen reference?" Krista asked, amused and not afraid to show it.
"I gave David Bowie a blowjob in the seventies."
"I'm so happy for you."
"It tasted like a rainbow in my mouth."
"The House of Oravon, Chase," Krista said tolerantly. Their time apart had mellowed her out. They were settling back into familiar roles. Flirt, fight, fuck. It made Krista vulnerable.
"Ancient vampires from deepest, darkest Africa," Chase said. Her voice was neutral, a tour-guide's cheerful monotone. "Unlike most houses, they haven't had many internal coups, so the original founders are still around for the most part. Millennia-old. They're widely seen as the voice of reason in any vampire dispute, staying neutral and low-key. Slaying those suckheads would be a feather in any cap."
"So why did they hire you?"
Chase smiled widely. It was so good to have power, fleeting as it was. "Uh-uh-uh. You can't get something for nothing, Krista. Haven't I taught you that yet?"
Crossing her arms, Krista fixed Chase with her best glower. "You promised me a free question."
"And I told you why I left," Chase said with a bop of her head. "So it looks like we're back to square one."
Krista paced in front of Chase, wondering how someone chained to a chair could be so difficult. "What do you want, Chase?"
"Seems you're always asking that. What do I want? I want to finish what we started in that bathtub. A taste of that sweet cherry pie." She popped her lips. "Finger-lickin' good."
"Not going to happen."
"Alright then, compromise." Chase looked Krista up and down. "Just show me a peek."
"I've shown you mine, now you owe me a sight of yours. I'm itching to find out if you're racked up any new scars since you've been away."
Krista scowled for a moment, then took off her longcoat. Her bare arms had picked up a bit more definition than Chase remembered. "You're obsessed with scar tissue, you know that?"
"Less talk, more strip."
Krista half-smiled, half-scowled, ended up looking like she smelled a fart. She reached for the bottom of her T-shirt.
"No, no, no. God, you're a silly bitch. Turn around, then take the shirt off. Slowly."
Krista turned around and began to tug her shirt over her head, not sure if it was better or worse not being able to see Chase seeing her. Chase's eyes on her were almost a physical thing, running over every inch of her back that was exposed. Every inch.
"No bra, Krista? Naughty girl. Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Then there was a hitch in Chase's voice as she saw the crosshatching where the cat o' nine-tails had cut into Krista's upper back. "Who did that?"
"Lord Calos," Krista answered over her shoulder, not quite looking at Chase but not quite looking away either. Chase had never had the world's best poker face and her concern was written all over that expressive face of hers. It made Krista uncomfortable.
"I met him once. Wanker. Want to boil him in his own fat later?"
Krista turned around, cupping her breasts in her hands. She didn't feel exposed. She felt powerful. Chase wanted her. Chase wanting Krista gave Krista leverage. It was simple math.
"I think that counts as a peek. The House of Oravon."
Chase rocked back in her seat, disappointed. "They hired me to kill someone."
The blonde vampire was a million miles away, her eyes running over Krista's nude torso like she wanted to memorize it. "Lord Kasar. I blew up his apartment with him inside, then I personally put a silver bullet through his eye. So that's one vampire you can scratch off your list."
"Why did they want Kasar dead?" Krista persisted, happy that Chase couldn't see her nipples. The attention being lavished on her body was provoking a reaction.
"They didn't tell me. That's the whole point of bringing in a ringer to do these kinds of jobs. But I suppose it was because of the information he was leaking to the House of Cerebus."
"And what information would that be?"
"That's the kind of thing that's dangerous to know. All I know is that he had the information locked away in a safety deposit box. I took the key and I left. Done deal."
"And where is the key?" Krista was growing impatient with continuing to have to prod Chase along.
"That's another question entirely, isn't it? I think you've going to have to give me another peek."
Krista put her hands at her sides. "Happy?"
"Not yet." Chase leered at her. "I want you to touch yourself. And I want you to pretend it's me touching you."
Krista shook her head. "You're being ridiculous."
"Well, you could always try torturing me. That worked so well last time."
"You expect me to apologize?"
Chase smiled. "No. I would've done the exact same thing. And not so long ago, that thought would've bothered you."
Krista closed her eyes and tried to remember how Chase had made love to her. It always started at the face. Chase was big into faces. Krista put one hand at her mouth, fingers splayed across her cheek, and moved her head to one side, showing off the grateful contours of her neck. Chase nodded approvingly. Krista ran the same hand down her neck and along her shoulder, then across her breasts. With a sudden violence, she dug her fingernails into her breast, then released it. It jiggled a bit and Chase leaned forward in her chair.
"That's good, that's " Chase gulped. "Your pants. Take them off."
Krista leaned over to push her pants down.
"No!" Krista looked up, into Chase's eyes. "Take them off for me."
Krista walked towards Chase, her trousers riding low on her waist. She stopped a foot from Chase's body. "Why don't you do it for me?"
Chase caught on immediately. She leaned forward, bit into Krista's waistline, and began to draw it down. She did it slowly, savoring the proximity. Krista's panties were an inch away and she could smell the other woman's arousal. At this range, it was as heady as any alcohol. Chase turned her head to the side so that she rubbed her cheek against Krista's groin as she passed. She couldn't get the pants down all the way, of course, but she got it down far enough that gravity took over. Krista was left standing in her panties. Determined to win their game of one-upmanship, she straddled Chase's lap and undid one of the shoulder straps on the nightgown.
"Where's the key?"
Chase leaned forward once more, resting her hand on Krista's cleavage. "I want you to embrace me. Like you would a lover in a private moment. Just like we used to do in the warm of night, if you remember."
"This is above and beyond the call."
"My last request," Chase said, letting the double meaning echo.
Krista wrapped her arms around Chase's body, letting the fingers of one hand tangle in Chase's hair. Chase smiled as she felt the familiar strength of Krista's fingers on her scalp. They even massaged her, just as tenderly as they once had. She closed her eyes and breathed in Krista's scent, blood and cum and everything that could ever tempt her, wrapped up in that tall Amazon body.
"You're worth selling a soul for, Krista," she said.
"The key," Krista said after a long pause.
"In my flat. A safe behind the painting of the little girl and the monkey. The combination is 34-56-89. One more thing. I want you to be the one to retrieve it. Personal favor."
Krista nodded. "I will."
In another time, in another place, Chase would've said that Krista could stop holding her at any time. But she didn't, because they both knew it and neither of them cared.
"This doesn't change anything," Krista said much later, as she dressed.
"Of course it doesn't. How can you fall in love with me when you've loved me all this time?"
Blade insisted on Oats going with her. Smart decision, really. She let him drive to Chase's apartment. The address was written on the swipe card Chase had kept in her pocket. Hopefully the landlord hadn't foreclosed yet. Oats kept quiet, his teenage sullenness sparing her an attempt at conversation. For a while, at least.
"You and Chase used to fuck?" he said, like she was supposed to be impressed at the profanity.
"Nothing personal, but I think we should torture everything she knows out of her, then kill her." Oats made a right turn. "That is our endgame on this, right? She dies."
"Of course. Why?"
"Because after you talk to her, I see you acting like you used to when the two of you were together. Smiling when you think you're alone and shit."
"I'm remembering an old Simpsons episode. That Homer is crazy."
"Yeah, whatever. I'm just saying that "
"I get what you're saying. Why don't you wait in the car?"
Hope: The landlord hasn't rented out the apartment yet. Krista got in easy. The apartment itself was tragic, in way. Krista had seen Chase's apartment at Marcus' tower. Everything was just so, a kind of feng shui at work. Meticulously arranged, like the room was a bonsai tree or something. Here, the apartment was rented out with the room and it didn't fit Chase at all. Krista could picture how Chase would live here. She would stagger in just ahead of the dawn, sleep all day, then go out all night.
"Found anything yet?" Oats asked.
Krista didn't jump. She just turned around slowly, simmering, about to come to a boil. Oats stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Thought I told you to wait in the car."
"Blade told me not to let you out of my sight."
"Wait outside," Krista said, slamming the door in his face. He didn't have the swipe card and no way was he going to attract the attention of breaking the door down. She could feel his frustration right through the door. Heh.
The safe was right where Chase had said it was. Krista paused a moment before opening. It wouldn't be un-Chase for Chase to be lying. There could be a bomb in there or some other booby trap.
No. Chase wouldn't do that to her. Chase liked to play by her own rules, but she played fair by her own rules. And she hated it when people blew up, especially her.
Krista pulled the safe door open. It creaked a little and Krista saw that it hadn't been put there by any neat home improvement. Chase had just shoved the safe into the wall until it could be hidden behind the painting. Typical Chase. Inside was, as promised, the key. It was small and oblique with a number on it, 951. Perfect.
There was one other thing in the safe, shoved far in the back. An envelope. Thick, fat, stuffed with wads of something. Krista reached it and pulled it out. There was nothing written on it, but a thin layer of dust had landed over it. She opened it.
Then she understood everything.
Krista and Chase had been together for seven months. Neither of them had expected it to last that long, but when you're hunted for sport on the island estate of an insane big-game hunter, you form pretty long-lasting bonds. Their apartment was cramped and small; Blade didn't even like the idea of them being off the "reservation." But for Krista, it was important. Privacy. A vestige of a normal life, despite the fact that they had to install special shutters over the windows. And Chase. Chase was not normal. Or alive.
They ordered Chinese that evening.
"This tastes like shit," Chase said, eating out of a small paper carton.
"It's kung pao chicken."
"Kung pao chicken tastes like shit," Chase answered readily.
Krista was sitting in front of the TV, watching an old movie. Black and white. She wondered if Chase had been at the premiere. She could've been. But she didn't seem like the cinema type.
"You used to eat people who eat kung pao chicken," Krista said tonelessly.
"That would explain why their blood tasted like shit." Chase got up from where she had been sitting and sauntered over to Krista, lying down on top of her. The easy chair shifted to accommodate their weight, growing a foot-rest and leaning back.
"I was trying to watch a show," Krista said.
"And now you can watch me," Chase said, pulling Krista's hand to the zipper on her vest. She forced Krista to pull the zipper down. The skin underneath was perfect, eternally young and unblemished. "Wouldn't you prefer watching me?"
"Hmm no." Krista sat up so that the easy chair returned to its upright position, toppling Chase to the ground. "I wanna see how this ends."
"Alright." Chase sat back on the floor. Grabbed Krista's foot and stripped it of its flip-flop. Kissed the top of the foot. Sucked on a big toe. "You watch, and I'll entertain myself."
Krista shoved Chase away with her other foot. "Go make some popcorn and we can watch it together."
So, fifteen minutes later they were sitting together on the couch. Chase had shoved the furniture into the right places. Krista ate popcorn, the bowl balanced on one thigh while Chase rested her head on the other. With one hand, Krista shoveled popcorn into her mouth. With the other, she petted Chase's hair. It felt smooth and silky under her touch, like a Persian cat. And, almost like a cat, Chase sunk her teeth gently into Krista's denim-clad leg. Krista ignored her, running a finger over the blonde's earlobe. The movie ended and no sooner had the credits started to run than Chase pounced. Popcorn flew everywhere, unpopped kernels clattering to the floor, the bowl turning orbits as it settled. Krista didn't know what to think as Chase pulled her into the bedroom.
"This is our place!" she said. "You're going to have to pick that stuff up."
"I'll vacuum it in the morning."
"Use the broom, kernels are hard on the vacuum."
Chase threw Krista down on the bed and grinded against the bedpost, launching herself into an impromptu striptease. "Yes, mom. Ready to get Oedipal?"
Krista was very ready.
Chase's tongue inside her was the very best sort of agony. If she had been able to look down, Krista would've been able to see Chase perched at her groin like a great cat about to leap, hands spreading Krista's thighs open, mouth buried between them. Like a washcloth full of water, Krista let Chase's touch wring her out, drive her upward and onward, faster, harder, deeper, until every last bit of fluid had been drained from her.
She collapsed to the mattress, the high past, her breathing catching up with her. Chase stood, her wet lips gleaming in the moonlight that filtered through the open windows. Her body disappeared into the darkness as she went about closing those windows, replacing the transparent glass with dense wooden shutters and darker curtains.
Krista sat up in bed, heart beating, skin sweaty. She felt alive again. Well, technically she was always alive and even when she was alive she hadn't felt alive, but this was nostalgia. She felt like how alive should feel. She looked at Chase, white linen undergarments and blonde highlights glowing practically. Chase looked back, eyes as dark as the rest of her body. Shuffling, a desk drawer being opened and closed.
"Hold that pose," Chase's voice said, floating out of the blackness.
There was a bright flash and Krista squinted, a breath too late. The picture developed. Krista, propped up on one elbow, sheets covering her upper body up to the armpits, looking into camera with love and devotion Chase had never thought would be directed her way. Click. Flash. Another picture. Another. Krista giggled and Chase giggled too, moving closer, taking more and more pictures as she wrestled the sheets away from Krista and then joined her under them, the camera sporadically flashing as they joined, each to the other, pictures captured of a breast, a knee, an elbow, a kiss.
Love: A photographical study.
Krista stared at the photos. The entire history of their relationship, captured. She hadn't remembered Chase taking so many pictures. It must've started shortly after she had joined up with Blade, because there was Krista in a contemplative moment, alone in the Arizona headquarters. And there was Krista practicing against Blade, kendo sticks a blur. And there was the picture Shen had taken, with an embarrassed but happy-for-Krista look on his face, as Chase hugged Krista on the Eiffel Tower.
She shoved the pictures back in the envelope and put it into her jacket pocket. Unlocked the door and walked back into the hallway. Oats put away his Motorola, God knows who he'd been texting, and looked at her.
"We've got what we came for," Krista said, holding up the key.
"Everything where I said it would be?" Chase said. Krista looked at her, the nightgown clinging to her body. It had been so easy. So easy to forget that once a traitor, always a traitor. A manipulator. Whatever they had felt once, Krista refused to have it sullied by letting Chase use the memory to weasel her way out of justice.
Krista held up the photos. "This what you wanted me to find? You had to have known I would find them."
Chase looked downcast. "I was kinda hoping you would just pass it by. It's easy to miss if you don't know what you're looking for."
Krista slapped her. Hard. Chase looked up at her, hurt, maybe. Krista slapped her again, the back of her head, reddening her cheek. Chase brought her head down, submissive. Krista tugged it back up by the hair and slapped her with the envelope, once, twice, a third time. No tears sprang to Chase's eyes and that wasn't fair, now was it?
"You fucking gutter trash," Krista said. She threw the envelope down on the chair that she had been sitting in, picked up a photo at random. Self-portrait: Chase with one arm around Krista's neck, the other holding out the camera. Close-range, off-angle. Cute.
Krista took a lighter out of her pocket. Chase watched impassively. Cheeks bruised. Watched as Krista started a flame and held it up to the photograph. Then she planted her feet on the floor and charged forward, dragging the heavy metal chair behind her. She hit Krista like a linebacker and the two women went down. Krista's head thudded against the floor and she felt dizzy before Chase's face swam into focus, looking down at her from on high.
"You silly little bitch," Chase said in that flawless accent before kissing her, hard enough to bruise like all their contact was. Fangs clanging against her teeth, tongue exploring, eyes wide open and staring into her soul. Like a wolf's, maybe, looking for fear. Krista kissed back, even harder, feeling Chase give and yield under her lips. Eyes shut. Damn, it felt good.
Then Blade and Shen and Oats were pouring into the room like a Chinese fire drill, dragging Chase off her. Blade was holding his sword to Chase's throat and the world was a discordant symphony and
"No!" Krista shouted.
The sword paused, edge flush against Chase's skin.
"We need her," Krista explained, holding up the key.
Chase smiled up at Blade, all innocence. "I made Kasar change the registry before I ended him. So if you want what's in the box, you need me. And you need me to go make the pick-up." Her smile moved to encompass Krista. "You're going to need one hell of a long leash, dear."
The plan was quite simple. Oats and Blade would cover the bank, front and back, while Chase and Krista were inside. Shen would be their driver. It only hit one snag at the planning phase: Chase had nothing to wear to the bank except a nightgown.
"What did you do with the clothes I was wearing when I came in here?" Chase asked.
"Burned," Krista answered.
"And in my apartment?"
"Given to the homeless."
"That was a cunning stunt," Chase complimented. "So, are we going shopping?"
"God, no. You're just getting some of my old clothes."
"Oh, joy. Krista, dear, did it occur to you that I have a girlishly petite figure while you are a, how shall I put this so as not to offend, a Sasquatch?"
"If you like, I could just march you in there dressed in sackcloth."
"Sorry, but I think redemption is more your fashion victimization."
"Obviously. Come on, let's find something for you to wear."
Chase emerged from the closet five minutes later dressed in the baggiest pants she could find, a button-down jersey that hung past her waist, a leather belt with an oversized Longhorns buckle, a pair of gargantuan sunglasses, and a skull cap. She looked like Flava Flav as reincarnated as a bleached blonde.
"You're actually wearing that into a bank," Krista said, arms crossed, gun dangling from one hand.
"Fo shizzle mah nizzle," Chase answered.
"You know you're white."
"You always said I had a black heart."
"I mean, seriously, you haven't seen the sun in a century. Literally. That's how white you are."
"Don't hate the playa, hate the game."
"Are you trying to be annoying?"
Chase said nothing. Just smiled as a devious idea came to her.
The bank was, thankfully, having a slow day. Chase and Krista walked in. Krista kept her hand on the syringe of PSTO in her pocket. Worst came to worst, she could put Chase into a walking coma for a week.
"Alright, here's our cover," Chase said. "I'm a famous rap star and you're my white ho."
"I don't think so."
"Don't make me bust you my pimp-hand on you."
"When we get back to the hide-out, I'm going to cut your blood rations in half if you don't shut up."
"Is Chase gonna have to smack a bitch?" the blonde asked as Krista abruptly dragged her towards a teller.
"Excuse me, ma'am," Krista said. "My friend here recently suffered a severe head trauma and we would like to withdraw a safety deposit box to pay for her treatment."
"I'm her special friend," Chase drawled, propping her chin up on Krista's shoulder. Then she leaned forward into the cashier's face, dragging Krista's body down with her. "We have sex," she whispered.
The cashier brought up her list of safety deposit boxes. "Name please?"
"Lesbian sex," Chase clarified.
Krista stomped on her toes.
"Sorry. Chase 'Lesbian Sex'," she winked at Krista, "Josephine."
"Alright, I'll access your box in just a moment."
"That's what she said."
"Very serious head trauma," Krista said. "You can actually see a dent if you look closely."
"Yes, here it is, deposit 303. And you have your key?"
Chase held it up.
"Right. That will be all for you?"
"Could I also withdraw some cash? I want Kristy here to do the cucumber trick, but apparently they charge a different hourly rate for that. Can you imagine? It's not like they charge extra for zucchini and that's practically the same thing!"
"This chunk of lead just landed square on her head," Krista said. "This big, honest injun."
"My parents are Native American, ma'am," the cashier said.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry, you look normal I mean white I mean, you don't look "
"You can do better," the cashier said sotto voce to Chase.
"Don't I know it."
"That's it?" Krista said as soon as she saw what was inside the safety deposit box. "Mushrooms?"
"Maybe the House of Oravon wanted something to put on their pizza," Chase mused, looking to pop one into her mouth. Krista snatched it away from her.
"Shen'll do an analysis. There must be something unique about these fungi."
"I don't suppose we can stop off for someone to eat ahead of time."
"Start walking, Chase."
"So, do I get a reward?"
Krista looked back from handing Shen the mushrooms. "Reward?"
Chase shrugged. "I didn't misbehave, did I? I think that should fetch me a boon."
Krista slammed the car door. "I know I'm going to regret this, but what do you want, Chase?"
Krista blacked out a second after Chase headbutted her, dimly aware of Chase swirling her around for use as a human shield.
"Tell your boys no fireworks, Shen," Chase growled as she manhandled Krista towards the subway. "You ash me, I'll snap her neck before the wind gets me. C'mon, Kristy. We've got a train to catch."
The subway platform was mostly abandoned. The evening train had just left and there just the usual subway creeps hanging about. Other then that, Chase and Krista had the room all to themselves.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Krista said, becoming aware of Chase's arm wrapped around her neck in a classic chokehold. "I'm a vampire. I don't need to breathe!"
"Much," Chase corrected, giving Krista a squeeze. "Believe it or not, I didn't want things to develop this way."
"Really? How'd you think they were going to go?"
"I was hoping you could help me. That's why I came back. I was going to call you before tall, dark, and dark put a stun round in me." Chase wrestled Krista up to the tunnel.
"Believe me or not. All I need to know is one thing. Come with me?"
"Eat shit and die."
Chase threw Krista across the tunnel, rolling her like a bowling ball so she only briefly came in contact with the third rail. It was long enough. The shock frazzled her nerves, made her blood boil and her hair stand on end. If she'd been alive, it would've stopped her heart. As it was, it only made her mad. Ignoring the smoke rolling off her, Krista raised and spotted Chase. The blonde was running down the tunnel. Krista followed her on wobbly legs. Chase wouldn't get away. Not again.
The maintenance tunnel was dimly lit. It took Krista a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness. Chase wasn't expecting her to have the fortitude to get up right away from a shock like that. That meant she had the advantage. Silently, Krista crept forward. Chase was at the other end of the corridor, pounding on a padlocked door. The lock stubbornly refused to die no matter how much she kicked it. Finally, one of her heels broke on the doorknob and Chase broke down, screaming as she rammed into the door shoulder-first. It buckled, but held.
Krista continued her silent approach. She could hear Chase now, faint curses coming from under her breath as she jiggled the handle, trying to break it off.
"Fucking Krista, doesn't know the first thing about no gratitude, not a bit needs to get laid like a cat needs milk, the bitch." And then she was sobbing, thick dollops of tears that ran down her cheeks and sparkled on her neck. Renewed, she threshed the door again, the wood denting this time.
"Chase," Krista said gently, reaching out one hand.
Chase turned, saw the hand extended towards her. Her eyes darted frantically between the hand as it cupped her face and Krista's eyes, warm liquid pools of light. Before she had a chance to say anything, Krista rocked her head to the side with a haymaker. Chase folded to the floor.
Chase awakened. She was still in the maintenance tunnel. Seated now on the concrete floor, her hands bound behind her. Behind and above her, leashing her to a vertical pipe. Krista crouched opposite her, holding a cell-phone to her ear.
"No, I lost track of her. I'm gonna run down a few more leads. No, I'm sure you can handle the mushrooms without me. Tell Shen not to wait up. Bye."
She hung up and replaced the phone in her pocket.
"You just lied to Blade," Chase realized.
"Of course. I don't want any interruptions." Krista's smile had an edge to it. Chase smiled back, weakly, but her discomfort just made Krista's smile widen. Krista reached forward and unbuttoned the top button on Chase's shirt.
"What are you doing?" Chase asked, perplexed.
Krista's smile showed teeth. "What do I want, Chase?"
Chase swallowed. Hard. Krista unbuttoned the next button. There were twelve of them, all lined up in a pretty row, and Krista had unbuttoned two. That left ten. Chase gulped again.
"Why should I care what you want? You're not in charge here."
Krista reached out and twined a lock of Chase's hair around her finger, letting it unspool in front of Chase's face. Chase blew it out of her eyes.
"I'm going to fuck you soon," Krista said. "You have a problem with that?"
"No," Chase breathed.
"Good. But before we get to that." Third button. "I would like to know why you left."
"I answered that."
"Why are you back in the country?"
"I needed your help. I thought I did, at any rate. Maybe I was just horny."
"What did you need my help for?"
Chase just smiled enigmatically. Krista smiled back and ripped her shirt open. Buttons flew everywhere.
"You don't have to answer now," Krista said as she ran her hand between the folds of the open shirt. "You're going to have plenty of time to explain things to me." Her hand reached the belt buckle and tore it away. "In vivid " The belt followed. "Graphic." Chase's fly was undone. "Detail."
Two fingers plunged between Chase's legs. Chase gave a jolt, her breasts bobbing from the motion.
"Because I'm the only one who can give you what you need."
She bit into one of Chase's exposed breasts. The combination of pain and pleasure drives Chase to the fastest orgasm she'd ever had. Her mouth lolled open and her head wagged back and forth as she absorbed it. Krista withdrew her fingers and offered them up to Chase, who gluttonously licked them clean.
"Now then, Chase I want you to do me a favor." Krista stood and stripped her pants away, lowering her pussy into the blonde's face. "A very close, very personal favor."
Chase looked at Krista's pussy. It, at least, was just as she'd remembered it, only shaved recently. Must be near the end of the mouth.
"Are you going to pee on me?" Chase asked.
"Lick," Krista commanded.
More than anything, Chase wanted not to. Because as good as Krista tasted, control tasted better. Control and making Krista beg for it and yearn and yield and bend and sometimes break. And Krista had had the power in their relationship for too long. And now, now she had more power than ever, Chase was completely at her mercy. Which, of course, made Chase hotter than she could ever remember being.
It was the scent. Wafting off Krista's pussy. Filling the air. Teasing her. It soaked in her pores and lurked in her nostrils. Krista. She had to have it and Krista was offering it to her, freely. All she had to do was lean forward and
"Oooh," Krista moaned, a sly smile filling her lips. She hadn't stopped smiling since she'd handcuffed Chase to the pipe. "I see you haven't lost a step in your old age."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Krista said, arching her hips forward, trapping Chase's head between the pipe and the inevitable. She needn't have bothered. Chase went deeper, the scent filling her mouth, making her eyes water and her ears burn. It was right under her tongue. She needed it. She had to have it. It was hers.
"Oh, fuck, Chase." Krista yanked on Chase's hair, hard, almost hard enough to yank it out of her scalp. "Fuck, this feels good. Fuck, you should learn how to eat yourself out, this feels so good."
Chase began to pull back to issue a reply, but Krista just drove her hips forward again, banging the back of Chase's head against the pipe. Chase couldn't breathe, didn't need to breathe as she extended her tongue as far as she could and felt her way through Krista's inner folds. There, right where she'd left it. Krista's clit, needlessly unused for so long. Chase trapped it between her teeth and tugged it in either direction, enjoying the short, sharp gasps of breath that Krista now subsided on. The nouveau nosferatu always forgot they didn't need to breathe at times like this. It was so endearing.
"Good girl," Krista panted, petting Chase's hair. "Good, slutty girl "
She pumped her hips again, deliberately banging Chase's head against the pipe. Chase shot a look upwards and Krista laughed, her speech degenerating into a series of guttural barks as Chase explored her, fangs cool against her sensitive flesh, tongue hot and everywhere. Krista's teeth closed together, gritted, her face contorted, her tips flopped, her hair swung, and finally her mouth open and she screamed out her pleasure, hips convulsing, driving Chase's head right through the flimsy metal. Chase had no time to process the pipe's destruction before Krista pulled her all the way down in a lying position and straddled her. Sweaty, gleaming, a goddess. She zipped up her pants, left the belt undone in her hurry to kiss Chase and taste herself on the blonde's lips.
"Let me go, Krista," Chase said. "I'll be good, I promise."
"Implying that if I keep you, you'll be bad?" Krista's smile never left her face. Eyes heavy, the shock and the sex taking their toll, she curled up against Chase's prone body. "That suits me. In fact, that suits me just fine."
Chase nodded, waiting until Krista was fast asleep, their semi-naked bodies intertwined, the scent now on Chase's skin, just like old times. Once Krista was truly unconscious, Chase slipped her cuffs through the break in the pipe and went to work looking for Krista's keys.
Krista woke up to see Chase standing over her. The handcuffs were off. Chase was free.
"You stayed," Krista said.
"Of course. I had to see the look on your face."
"What look on my face?"
"The one where I do this."
Chase drove the syringe of PSTO into Krista's thigh, enjoying every second of the stricken look on Krista's face as she pressed down the plunger.
"Now we're really going to have some fun," Chase smirked as Krista's world turned to black.
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