certain the rest of the house was deep in sleep.
And then, just as he was about to give way to his exhaustion, the moon broke through the fog, painting the garden in silver and gray. He stood and walked toward the windows. As he did, he saw something move near the edge of the lawn. Some animal perhaps, or another intruder with less benign intent than his.
He pulled the doors open, stepped into the yard and started down the path.
The earth was soft beneath his feet, the night air chilly against the bare skin on his exposed arms and chest. He was close to the river when he saw the figure move again, this time downstream, near the thick hedge fence of a neighbor's property. He followed, wondering if he should call out or if he might only startle someone else with his foolishness.
As he watched the distant indistinct form, it seemed to wink out like a snuffled candle. Frightened now, he turned to rush back to the house and found himself face to face with his nightmare.
But she did not look so terrible now with those red lips and eyes so green that even the moonlight could not steal their color.
"Come," she whispered, and he followed her back to the water. They stopped on the edge, and she faced him and reached out her hand.
He did not know how it happened, but a touch of her hand removed the last pieces of clothing he wore. A quick, disdainful toss sent them into the river, where they floated into the current at its heart and flowed slowly downstream.
He paid them no mind. His eyes were trapped on hers, his body on the feather touch of hands—enticing, almost real.
Was this a dream?
These creatures were from the realm of dreams. How was he to know?
Then she kissed him, her lips soft but cold. Her body pressed against his, colder still, so cold it made him ache at his core. He felt no fear, only pity for this creature, and he would give whatever he could to help her.
Her hands continued the soft brushes against his skin. Each touch made him shiver, stole a bit more of his will. When they finally reached his crotch, it only took a quick brush against the tip of his penis to make him hard and ready.
She stepped back to undo the laces on the bodice of her gown, leaving him with a sense of loss that he was out of her arms.
Was this how Mina had felt when the other… ?
He looked past the vampire woman toward the house, and saw the huge black form of a wolf slink through the doors he had left open.
"Mina!" he screamed and tried to run past the woman.
She grabbed his arm but he continued an ineffective struggle, crying out her name again and again, "Mina! Mina!"
"Shhh, Jonathan. Hush. It's all right. I'm here."
The vampire woman released her hold as Mina tightened hers. He felt his wife's hair, soft against his face, scented with lavender water. "I'm such a bother," he whispered.
"I'm glad you were here so that I could help you," she whispered, her breath warm against his icy skin.
He expected her to push away from him, but she seemed as reluctant to leave as he was to let her go. Instead, she stretched out beside him, pulling a quilt around both of them and pressing close. "You're so cold," she said.
"It was the woman. That creature." He felt her shiver and tried to reassure her. "It was only a dream, but so vivid. When she touched me, she seemed to steal all the warmth from me. She was—"
Mina touched her finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's all right," she said.
Caught up in the dream and the passion it had aroused, he kissed her once, then again. She responded with a fervor he had rarely felt in her before, one she had probably learned from the master of this house. Did he care? Should he? She was here because he had been dreaming of another—fantastic, yes, but the creature's effect was no less real.
He moved back to give Mina room. As he did, he saw a flicker of light from the front hallway, the serving woman's white face. She retreated without a word.
She reminded him of where he was, and the
And then, just as he was about to give way to his exhaustion, the moon broke through the fog, painting the garden in silver and gray. He stood and walked toward the windows. As he did, he saw something move near the edge of the lawn. Some animal perhaps, or another intruder with less benign intent than his.
He pulled the doors open, stepped into the yard and started down the path.
The earth was soft beneath his feet, the night air chilly against the bare skin on his exposed arms and chest. He was close to the river when he saw the figure move again, this time downstream, near the thick hedge fence of a neighbor's property. He followed, wondering if he should call out or if he might only startle someone else with his foolishness.
As he watched the distant indistinct form, it seemed to wink out like a snuffled candle. Frightened now, he turned to rush back to the house and found himself face to face with his nightmare.
But she did not look so terrible now with those red lips and eyes so green that even the moonlight could not steal their color.
"Come," she whispered, and he followed her back to the water. They stopped on the edge, and she faced him and reached out her hand.
He did not know how it happened, but a touch of her hand removed the last pieces of clothing he wore. A quick, disdainful toss sent them into the river, where they floated into the current at its heart and flowed slowly downstream.
He paid them no mind. His eyes were trapped on hers, his body on the feather touch of hands—enticing, almost real.
Was this a dream?
These creatures were from the realm of dreams. How was he to know?
Then she kissed him, her lips soft but cold. Her body pressed against his, colder still, so cold it made him ache at his core. He felt no fear, only pity for this creature, and he would give whatever he could to help her.
Her hands continued the soft brushes against his skin. Each touch made him shiver, stole a bit more of his will. When they finally reached his crotch, it only took a quick brush against the tip of his penis to make him hard and ready.
She stepped back to undo the laces on the bodice of her gown, leaving him with a sense of loss that he was out of her arms.
Was this how Mina had felt when the other… ?
He looked past the vampire woman toward the house, and saw the huge black form of a wolf slink through the doors he had left open.
"Mina!" he screamed and tried to run past the woman.
She grabbed his arm but he continued an ineffective struggle, crying out her name again and again, "Mina! Mina!"
"Shhh, Jonathan. Hush. It's all right. I'm here."
The vampire woman released her hold as Mina tightened hers. He felt his wife's hair, soft against his face, scented with lavender water. "I'm such a bother," he whispered.
"I'm glad you were here so that I could help you," she whispered, her breath warm against his icy skin.
He expected her to push away from him, but she seemed as reluctant to leave as he was to let her go. Instead, she stretched out beside him, pulling a quilt around both of them and pressing close. "You're so cold," she said.
"It was the woman. That creature." He felt her shiver and tried to reassure her. "It was only a dream, but so vivid. When she touched me, she seemed to steal all the warmth from me. She was—"
Mina touched her finger to his lips, silencing him. "It's all right," she said.
Caught up in the dream and the passion it had aroused, he kissed her once, then again. She responded with a fervor he had rarely felt in her before, one she had probably learned from the master of this house. Did he care? Should he? She was here because he had been dreaming of another—fantastic, yes, but the creature's effect was no less real.
He moved back to give Mina room. As he did, he saw a flicker of light from the front hallway, the serving woman's white face. She retreated without a word.
She reminded him of where he was, and the
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