AN: This story contains an explicit sex scene, vampires drinking blood from humans, drinking and cigarette use. Please do not read this story if you are under 18.

-Oh, and by the way, I just heard word from Takashi that the dress came in from Tokyo today, so while you’re downtown swing by Petrune and pick it up for me,- Erin read the glowing text as the train’s lights flickered to darkness for a brief moment, before statically flicking on again. Erin wasn’t sensitive to the lights but it certainly wasn’t helping. Well, a detour to the garment district wouldn’t exactly be that far out of her way...she supposed. Though rather just ride back to Manhattan Valley than dallying on picking up a dress in addition to the swing-by to NYU.

Sure, sure, sure, she internally rolled her eyes, bumping up the volume on her earbuds before stuffing the phone into her back jean pocket and tightly crossing her legs, squeezing in as a crush of people entered the train as the doors slid open to a mangled announcement from the conductor. A heavy scent of weed filled the train, and Erin tried not to be jealous. The evening was something of the opposite of relaxing.

It shouldn’t have been. She was coming up on an anniversary--three years, in fact. Of whatever this insane partnership was. She rolled her eyes again and reflexively checked the next stop scroller even though she knew there was only one more stop. One more stop.

“Second Ave and 20th,” the garbled speaker of the MTA spoke, and Erin stood quickly, joining the smaller crush of people leaving, all younger looking student types with dark circles beneath their eyes and slouched backpacks, jackets zipped tight and scarves thrown haphazardly around necks in the chill November air. Erin pulled out her phone.

-Just got off the train,- she texted. Her phone buzzed immediately.

-I’m in the lab, I’ll meet you on 17th,- she got back from Emmanuelle. She nodded, stuffing the phone back as the crush of students ascending out of the train carried her up the stairs, her boot landing in some kind of sticky residue in her distraction, revealing the significantly darker exterior of downtown, right within the NYU campus. Not as claustrophobic as Lower Manhattan, but definitely getting there. And yet, still a regular destination.

Erin hustled down the block as the Langone Hospital loomed large over the road, industrial in appearance but inside hiding a truly astounding number of facilities and clinical labs, one of which was her destination in this very moment.

She went around to the side of the building, and one of the staff entrances popped open, revealing the charming smile of Emmanuelle beneath a puff of afro, today collected into a red headscarf for research, a french graduate clinical researcher Erin had met several years prior in the circuit of medical-related queer graduate student circuit of New York. Yes it was smaller than she had thought. She and Emmanuelle had never dated, but they had hooked up a few times in bar bathrooms and post escapades back in the days when Erin had friends. Erin darted inside and unbuttoned her long wool coat to cool down from the hustled walk.

“Chéri,” Emmanuelle said, opening her arms and giving a quick kiss to Erin’s cheek. Erin returned the kiss. “Love, where have you been? We’ve been missing you for thirsty Thursdays, not even on the first of the month?”

“I know, Em,” Erin said as Emmanuelle led her to the elevator, selecting the 17th floor from the massive array of buttons. She turned, leaning against the wall. “Between research and Anya, I feel like my time is nonexistent these days.”

Erin felt a slight flush of heat rise in her cheeks as one of Emmanuelle’s eyebrows raised in judgment. “I am just saying, your mommy needs to give you a longer leash,” Emmanuelle said.

“I don’t know that I would use that word to describe Anya,” Erin said.

The elevator dinged and the two crossed into the bay. Emmanuelle began to count down her fingers as the doors slid shut. “She’s about fifteen years older than you. She’s old money rich. You moved in with her about two months after you met her, which is putting every u-hauling lesbian couple I know to shame. She gives you an allowance.”

“Listen, Em, would you say no?” Erin asked, crossing her arms in the elevator. If only Anya was only 15 years older than me.

“Hell no, I would take that deal and run,” Emmanuelle said, swiping her card into the doors of the upper lab levels and leading Erin down the hall, swiping a second time into the research lab. Down the rather cramped hallway, revealing a stand of computers before the larger dark interior, housing the three microscopes the lab used for blood sample analysis.

“Well then,” Erin said. “Nobody in today?”

“Nah, Scott’s down in autopsy, there was some cadaver that had medical permission he was interested in getting blood from, so that ate up today. But I know one of the neurology labs wants brain samples so who knows what’s going down. Charles is out today, he’s working from home doing image analysis, and Georgine is helping Scott. So just me today.” Emmanuelle popped open the first of three 4C refrigerators before the dark room, removing a clasped case. “Anyway, here are your samples.”

“You included the extra replicates for the first sample?” Erin asked. Em nodded.

“Good luck on your pilot, darling,” she said. “And dammit, get a drink with us! Get Anya to come hang out with all of us depressed twenty and thirty somethings, please. I know it's your anniversary, but we all want to celebrate with you. We’re going out to Crystals tonight for a little partir en piste with the crew if you’re feeling up to it.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Erin said, both feeling the slight rise of hope in her chest and the shuddering depth of knowing that possibility was futile. There was no way that was happening. Em shrugged.

“Can you show yourself out? I’ve got to get these samples disposed of, and I don’t want to be here until eight tonight.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Erin said. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve picked up samples from you.”

“I’ve got your number, chéri,” Em said with a wink as she pulled a lab coat around her and headed back into the dark room. “Love and kisses.”

Erin smiled and waved, before turning away, the refrigerated case clutched in her hand. Anya would be happy, even if these stayed in the fridge for longer than usual. The inside of her thigh tingled at the thought.

An hour and a half later and she stepped out of the MTA with a garment bag draped over her arm, the refrigerated case clutched in her palm, and a bluster of cold wind blowing up Central Park west, picking up the bottom of her wool coat gathered about her calves and giving it a swish. Erin pulled her hat more firmly over her ears and turned to hike up two blocks along 105th to Anya’s condo. Cars flew by, picking up the wind and throwing it through the garment bag. Couldn’t get inside faster in New York in November. Erin smiled at the thought of the warmth. Remembering in the old days when she would have to commute all the way out to Brooklyn at the end of the day.

She buzzed into the lobby and breezed to the elevator bay, excitement rising in her throat at the imminent arrival to the condo, the anxiety and drag of earlier evaporating from her mind. It belonged to Anya, but she happened to live in said cozy condo in Manhattan Valley. If that wasn’t bragging rights enough in the 2020’s. Her boot heels left soft thuds on the warm maroon carpet of the 6th floor. She wiped the sticky residue from the bottom of her boot and stepped inside.

“Erin, my darling, my love.” Anya’s rich, deep voice floated in from the kitchen. Erin’s nose caught the scent drifting from the kitchen, and her mouth immediately started to salivate. There was a smell of crab in the air, and crab usually meant activity. The lights in the apartment sharpened as her pupils contracted, and suddenly the colors of the apartment became bolder.

Anya stepped into the entry hall, wearing a sort of slinky black dress, hugging her body before flaring out into a loose skirt. Her toes had been painted a scintillating red and stood barefoot on the floor despite the chill. Her fantastically dark, thick, curly hair had been loosely piled atop her head in a semblance of a bun, a few strands of silver highlighting her slight older age, but rather than dulling the hair they seemed to brighten the dark brown.

Magnetically, Erin was pulled toward Anya, her dark red eyes flashing in the light of the hall, the slight crow’s feet at the corners brightening the warmth, her lips full, her teeth white. A smile crept over Anya as she held her arms out. Deep in the pit of Erin’s stomach, there awakened the pull and mesmer that Anya managed to excavate from within.

Erin dropped the garment bag and the refrigerated case to the floor and stepped into the arms of her lover, Anya’s strong arms wrapping around her as she pressed her lips to Erin’s, tasting faintly of iron, her tongue sliding between Erin’s lips. This only served to make Erin more hungry, more active, more enamored of Anya. She wrapped her legs about Anya’s waist (even still, now, Anya’s strength impressed her). Feeling her cold biceps wrap around her shoulders as Anya spun her into a circle before breaking her kiss, setting her down on the carpet.

“My, oh, my,” she whispered. Anya pulled away, leaving a dull throb of want in Erin’s stomach. Anya pressed her index finger to Erin’s nose. “Later, my lover,” she said. Erin immediately scrambled to grab the garment bag.

“Your dress,” she said, and proffered the case. “And your blood.”

Anya’s eyes flashed, and her dark tongue darted out to flick at her lip. “I’ll take the blood, darling. You can lay the dress on the bed. We’ll have to do a fashion show later.”

Erin smiled, pulling her boots off and shrugging her coat to the front room closet before stepping into the condo proper.

Though Anya gave off the air of elegance, the amount of clutter in the apartment was bordering between damn this woman has lived here forever to maybe she has a problem. Books had overwhelmed the shelves and had been stacked in piles in the spaces between. Old records were stuffed between books, and softly the sound of Kieth Jarrett floated in the background. Anya’s living room was still spacious, even if cluttered, and the wide window with its open curtains looked out over the northern sector of Central Park. The sixth floor didn’t give them a view of the city, but it was everything Erin could want and more. She followed the window to its end, and turned down the hall to the back area of the apartment. She stepped briefly into Anya’s (and most of the time, her) room, with its massive king bed and tumbling four poster drape. Right now Erin had the red bamboo sheets on the bed. She reflexively straightened out a wrinkle in the sheet before laying the garment bag at the foot of the bed. Erin turned, feeling her eyes dilate and her heartbeat increase as she focused in on the scent of crab. She felt herself pull back down the hall towards the island sectioning off Anya’s kitchen from the rest of the condo, and rested her elbows on the hard granite countertop. Anya shot her a smirk from where she watched the broiler within the oven through the window. Erin sidled around the counter, leaning against it.

“Whatcha making?” she said in a playful voice. She couldn’t help but be lifted up in the presence of Anya. All the muck of going downtown and work melted away nearly instantly. The bugs--er, crab, didn’t hurt either.

“Crab cakes,” Anya said, tapping the tips of her nails against the window of the oven. She turned to face Erin, and Erin felt another pang deep in her stomach as Anya put her hands over her biceps, squeezing her arms. “I want you ready for the next forty eight hours, my darling. We are going to celebrate.”

Erin felt her stomach soar, even though internally she knew the type of celebrations Anya had in mind would be somewhat hard on her body. “You know I am ready, Anya.”

Anya brought her hand up to Erin’s chin, placing her thumb against Erin’s bottom lip. “You may be ready mentally, but your mortal body needs help. But never fear. No need to eat crickets now. No roaches in sight. The finest bugs for you, on this night, my darling.”

Erin felt her throat begin to salivate again as the analogue kitchen timer went off on the counter. Anya smiled, and pulled out a tray from the broiler.

The mouthwatering smell of crab cakes filled the room, the tantalizing smell of the seasoned blue crab causing Erin to just about melt. Four cakes sat on the tray, and Erin slid two of them onto one of the fancy teal china plates. She grabbed a bottle of the real-deal Champagne that had been resting in the fridge and poured two servings into two crystal goblets. The two of them toasted, clinking the crystal together. Erin felt the carbonation tickle the back of her throat as she gazed at Anya, framed by the sparkling windows of the buildings of New York behind her.

Eating with Anya was always a bit funny; Anya did not eat. The crab was entirely for her. Anya would feed shortly. Instead she flipped the record as Erin took the first mouthwatering bite of cake, feeling the lump crab meat on her tongue with all its flavors, cushioned with bread crumb, paprika and dijon, spiced with Old Bay. As she swallowed the first bite, she felt her head drop back, eyes wide at the white ceiling above her as her body exploded.

For a millisecond, for but just a moment, Erin felt every single synapse within her nervous system fire, felt each sensation heightened to one hundred percent, felt a single heartbeat send blood coursing through each vein of her body. She breathed in, feeling each alveoli absorb oxygen from the air, felt as the oxygen was moved into each cell and transformed, the easy carbohydrates from the breadcrumbs interspersed between lump meet were quickly broken down to glucose, and glucose broken down, altogether forming an unbelievable surge of energy as each piece of biological machinery clicked into place.

She exhaled.

Her mind raced, a million miles an hour, but unlike the jitters of caffeine or the reliance of coke, she felt perfectly in control. Like she could run a marathon right now, and then publish three manuscripts, and then cook a duck.

Slowly she tilted her head back to vertical, and saw Anya with a slight smile on her face. Her red eyes glistened, and Erin could see the veins within them.

“You like them?” Anya asked.

Erin nodded. “Anya, I think you’ve outdone yourself again, love,” she said. “The spice blend is perfect. Jumbo, no?”

Anya nodded, and Erin took another bite. Each following bite was not as dramatic as the first, but she felt her body become a fine-tuned machine, capable of the level of energy Anya required, at least for a short time.

The crab cake was filling, each cake slightly less than sixteen ounces. Erin could feel herself getting full as she ate the last bite, the last of the breadcrumb dissolving into her mouth. Anya took a sip from her glass. “Both, please, darling. I need you at full strength.”

Erin nodded, taking another sip of the champagne. Anya leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on her lips, before stepping back as Erin ate, twirling her skirt ever so slightly to the gentle jazz piano sifting through the air. Erin knew that Anya could sense the energy pumping through her body. Rather, the blood. Anya’s maroon eyes glinted in the moody lighting of the apartment as she sipped on the champagne, dark and bloody. Her teeth, flashing from beneath her lip, were glinting white in the dimmer lighting.

Suddenly she was much closer. Erin swallowed, sitting up straighter for a moment, her heart pulsing. Anya could move like that; cross the room in almost no time. And those teeth, still gleaming. And her cheeks, high and dark. Her eyes, bloody and glinting. She smiled.

Erin felt a rush of goosebumps erupt down the backs of her biceps, exposed now the coat was gone. Even though the apartment was warm on her behalf, there was a chill as she felt Anya run her index finger along her jaw, resting beneath her chin as their eyes met.

“My darling,” Anya said, and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Erin’s chewing slowed as Anya leaned, her dark eyes filling Erin’s vision to the exclusion of all else. “Eat. I hunger too.”

Erin flicked her tongue against her lips and leaned forward, kissing Anya in response. “Sorry your food is so delicious, Anya,” she whispered. Anya’s thumb came forward to grip Erin’s chin slightly before releasing her. Erin swallowed. “You spoil me.”

Anya stretched like a cat, leaning forward in the island stool and letting her nails drag along Erin’s thighs down to her knees, sending tingles down her spine, as it always had any time her friends had pinched just above her knees when she was a kid. Erin ate another bite of crab. “I hope it won’t be the last delicious thing,” she said softly. Erin inhaled and felt a dusting of breadcrumb suck into her esophagus, clearing it with a rough cough and a drink of champagne.

“I don’t think so,” Erin said, eating another bite of cake, letting the crumb dissolve on her tongue, tasting the salty-ocean rich flavor of the crab spread across her tongue, the bites dwindling down, but the anticipation of what would follow growing thick enough to taste as well. She swallowed, dabbing her lip with the cloth napkin (cloth napkin!) Anya had set out for her. She had a sudden flash of memory of the paper towel falling on the floor some dank night early in her graduate degree, leaving her with eighteen squares for dinner and a roll that had disappeared beneath the table. With a quick shake of her head she was back in the present, in her condo, with her lover anxiously awaiting each breath inhaled spent one breath more apart.

There really were two bites of cake left, but Erin stuffed the last of it into her mouth, the cake spreading across her tongue in one last delicious mouthful. Erin saw Anya’s pupils dilate as she swallowed the final bite. Anya set down her glass of champagne, now empty.

Erin’s head jerked back as Anya was upon her, but now Erin could see the blur of her lover as she moved at speeds beyond normal human comprehension. The bicep muscles in her dark forearms flexed, and Erin felt herself ripped off her stool, toes barely dragging along the ground as Anya flung her down the hall, each of her hands gripped beneath Erin’s arms like a vice. Erin could handle her strength now.

She felt Anya fling her to the king sized bed, her eyes dark and hungry, the whiteness of her teeth bright in the dim light. Her back flung to the cloud-soft mattress, so rough that she bounced, momentarily airborne, before Anya could catch her and push her down by her shoulders before undoing the button of Erin’s pants, peeling them off her legs and flinging them to the floor. Anya’s fingers twisted into the front of Erin’s shirt and ripped it open with nary a glance, the buttons flying in all directions. Without a second thought, Anya’s nail sliced through the join of Erin’s bra.

“Sorry,” Anya barely managed to get out before her cool hands were on Erin’s waist, and her lover’s lips were kissing into the bottom of her ear. Erin could feel Anya’s pants, less for actual breathing and more for just want, against her ear. “I’ll buy you a new one, darling.”

Rather than answer, Erin’s strong hands came to Anya’s cheeks, pulling her face to her and devouring her lips, the faintest hint of heme along her mouth. Their tongues skated along each other, mouths open and hungry. Erin felt Anya yank her legs apart, pulling herself flush against Erin and grinding hard. Erin’s hand twisted against Anya’s hair, and she pushed Anya away for just a moment.

Normally, on any other night, Erin would have nowhere near the strength required to move Anya in a way she did not plan to be moved. Oh, Anya would let her push her to the bed to be topped, but it was all Anya’s design. But on a night like this, when Erin was operating at full power, she had the strength to match her lover.

If temporarily, but nonetheless.

Erin laughed as she felt that very strength course through her body, Anya’s eyes widening in glee as Erin tossed her against the bed. She reached down, wrapping her hands about Anya’s ass and lifting to let herself grind senselessly into Anya, for a semblance of satisfaction. She let out a shuddering moan as Anya’s hands flung to the sheets, then tore off the rest of Erin’s shirt. Anya pulled Erin up to straddle her lap, and Erin grabbed each strap of her dress to tear down her shoulders, the bust of her dress flipped down to reveal her breasts. Erin felt Anya pull her flush against her chest, and Erin threw her head back in pleasure as she felt Anya’s cool skin press against her own, keening loudly. The walls of this condo were quite thick, unlike her last apartment.

Anya bent her head and wrapped her lips about Erin’s nipple, sucking as if to devour her. Erin did not feel the skin break yet; Anya was saving that particular pleasure, though there were two small marks about each of her nipples. It wouldn’t have been the first time Anya drank her blood like that. But tonight...tonight Anya would want to do it a very particular way.

Erin felt tingles run down her spine at Anya’s ministrations, letting her fingers trail through Anya’s thick, black curls, tracing down the back of Anya’s ear. She felt Anya’s fingers slip beneath her the waistband of her underwear, her icy fingers raising the hairs at the small of her back.

“You’re gonna like what you feel,” Erin whispered to Anya as Anya’s fingers swirled against the soft skin just above her pussy.

“Mmm,” Anya said. “I could smell your arousal from the moment you walked through the door. I’m sure you can too, now.”

Erin’s voice caught in her throat as she felt Anya’s hand slip deeper between her legs, and felt Anya press two fingers between her dripping wet lips, slicking against her and sending a thrill of pleasure racing through her core. She felt herself clench.

Anya withdrew her fingers, slipping them between her lips, letting her dark tongue slide between them. Erin felt blood rush to her cheeks at the sight.

Unable to resist Anya, even without her mesmer, Erin pushed Anya to the bed and peeled her gown from her skin, revealing the absolutely nothing Anya wore underneath except her light brown skin and traces of her thick, black hair.

Anya smiled demurely, one of her hands palming the back of Erin’s head, tracing through her chin-length shaggy blonde hair. Erin smirked, grabbing Anya’s legs and pushing them open, sliding her palms along the underside of Anya’s thighs until she was able to help herself to two handfuls of Anya’s ass, the tips of her middle fingers tracing the edge of Anya’s own dripping wet lips. With just a small stretch, her right hand closed the distance, binding Anya’s leg against her as Erin slipped her middle finger inside Anya.

Anya let out a gasp of pleasure, her hands flinging out above her head, before sliding down, up and around Erin’s cheeks, closing the minute distance between their lips. Erin thrust deeper into her, feeling Anya’s tongue slide against her own, eyes lolled shut in pleasure.

Erin pulled herself away from Anya’s lips, quickly shifting her right hand directly between Anya’s legs and letting her index and middle finger sink slowly deeper and deeper into her lover, felt her grind against her hand just to feel another inch of pleasure. Though Anya’s skin was chill to the touch, it was only here that she felt the heat of her again. The little heat that did remain.

Watching Anya fall apart at her fingers, the older woman with a trace of silver through her black hair, elegant crows feet tracing the corners of her eyes, Erin felt a high run through her body, the high of Anya’s pleasure at her own touch. Watching her moan, whispering Erin’s name in pleasure...”Erin, yes...oh my Erin...yes darling!” Erin bent her head to take Anya’s breast in her own mouth, tongue pressed against her nipple, helping herself to Anya’s pleasure as she felt the tips of Anya’s fingers scrape through her scalp. She kneaded her left hand as she began to thrust her fingers in and out of Anya, till her mind ran blank with second hand pleasure.

Second hand turned to first as she felt Anya nudge her hand between her own legs, and she spread them without hesitation, looping her own leg to weave between Anya’s as Anya buried her fingers in Erin’s pussy to the knuckle.

This Erin had experienced countless times since she had begun seeing Anya, but this was always her favorite part when it happened; the two of them climbing higher off each other’s mutual pleasures, feeling both Anya inside of her, and herself inside Anya, bodies slicking against each other, thrusting with abandon. Anya’s knee came between Erin’s legs and Erin gladly let Anya use it to grind harder against Erin, her thumb pressing against Erin’s clit. Erin groaned in pleasure.

“Baby yes!” Anya let out as Erin thrust into Anya. She reached up, pulling Erin into her, lips meeting again, as Erin let her head fall against the pillow, wrapped up in and completely around Anya. She felt a surge of desire at the realization.

Anya’s fingers traced along the top of Erin’s cheek beneath her eye, and there was no mistaking the hunger in Anya’s eyes: it was time.

“Let me take it from here,” Erin whispered and slid herself down Anya’s body, leaving a trail of kisses that she was sure felt like fire to her lover. Anya’s fingers slid out of her and ran along her hips, tracing up her lower back, sending tingles as they came to rest behind her ear.

Erin let their gaze linger for a moment, revelling in the feeling of Anya’s body beneath hers, her cool skin, and that hypnotic gaze. She bent to kiss Anya’s nose, and felt Anya’s knee press between her legs. She smiled, lingering a moment longer, this time to intentionally tease Anya. She ground into Anya’s thigh, her arousal wet against Anya’s leg, and this time Anya let out the smallest of growls. Erin smiled, this time at her own satisfaction, and lifted herself off Anya to turn around.

Anya’s hands gripped around her thighs as she yanked Erin’s legs about her neck, plunging her mouth between them and Erin couldn’t contain the shout that ripped out of her throat at that feeling. Erin bent her head and sealed her mouth to Anya’s lips.

High on the bugs her lover had given her, the sensations of Anya’s tongue were dizzyingly heightened, and Erin’s body filled with pleasure, her center growing hot and tight as Anya slid her fingers deep inside of Erin. Erin hurried to mirror her, wrapped around each other, in each other, nearly as one being.

Erin’s muscles trembled almost as if in harmony to Anya’s touches, and her body was quickly approaching its limit as her lover pulled her strings taught. Erin’s tongue grew sloppy, her fingers thrusting without control, her mind approaching a static whiteout.

Her legs instinctively clamped about Anya’s head as her pleasure was wrung out of her, the wound cord suddenly exploding outward. And in that moment, she felt Anya’s fangs sink into her inner thigh as she began to feed.

In the white light that filled her eyes, she was suddenly the center of the universe. Her being in every atomic particle, every electron spinning haphazardly, every supernova star detonating, every lover climaxing at that very moment. She felt Anya’s own legs clench about her jaw as she too reached her climax.

She came back to her body atom by atom, cell by cell, feeling like her brain had been smeared on the ceiling above. She flopped off Anya rather unceremoniously, dead weight on the down comforter and Anya gently helped her to nestle to her shoulder. Her body erupted into oversensitive goosebumps at Anya’s touch, and Anya bent to pull the blanket over them.

Erin’s jaw worked for a few moments before she could speak again. “Wow.”

Anya glanced over at her, her eyes half lidded as she met Erin’s gaze. “How very eloquent,” Anya said with a slight smile.

“You love me,” Erin sang in a slight mock. “You want to kiss me, you want to hold me, you want to drink me...”

Anya met Erin’s lips with her own, shutting Erin up. Erin melted into her kiss, her body clay and ply beneath Anya’s hands.

“I love you, Anya,” Erin said when they broke apart. “I would do anything for you. I would kill anyone for you. I would die for you.” Anya’s crimson red eyes shone into her face, shiny and bright now that she had fed. Her world was filled with the tiny veins within her irises, fluorescent red with the energy of her own blood.

“My darling,” Anya said, and her eyes were alight in hunger. Erin lunged to serve her mistress.

Every time they did this, Anya would blow Erin’s brains open, and long for more. Erin’s body, hopped up on adrenaline, that poison that lined Anya’s lips that made it so delectable whenever she was drained, and the crab cake coursing through her blood, rose to Anya’s demands, and she fucked Anya senseless, the heat slowly returning to her core as Anya rode her face, drained her in all of her favorite places, her neck, her inner forearm, the base of her breast, as Erin fucked Anya from behind, from on top, from Anya riding her until her forearm grew numb and Erin watching all of the movements of her body with pleasure. Erin lost count of the celebrations. Three years, after all.

Anya threw back her head for the final time, Erin pinning her arms above her head with her legs wrapped around Erin’s waist. Her own fingers dripping with Erin’s wetness, Anya finally finished her for the second time, sliding down until her head nestled between Erin’s legs and wringing Erin’s body tightly against hers until Erin could coil no more and flew apart in a burst.

They lay more languidly in the bed this time, now the sheets entangled about them, Erin’s hair flung haphazardly across the pillow. Anya reached over to the dining room table and grabbed the champagne glasses.

“Three years, my darling,” Anya said, raising a toast.

“And but a moment to you,” Erin said, the wine’s flavor coating her tongue. “Here’s hoping it’s a good one.”

This time Anya placed a gentle kiss on Erin’s nose and sat back, sipping the champagne with a grin on her face, her hair spread over the pillow in all of its soft brown locks. Erin flipped to her back and gazed up at the ceiling, savoring the wine, her lover’s skin and the crab’s energy still coursing her veins. It wouldn’t fade for at least another day. And chances are Anya would want to go again after too long (even after all of that).

The numb pleasure of her mind’s eye drifting back and forth like a wave gently cascading onto the shoreline was broken briefly by the rather ugly sound of her phone buzzing against the wood of the nightstand. Erin grunted. “Forgot to turn on do not disturb.”

“Go on. Answer it,” Anya said, her red eyes glinting, and Erin felt compelled to check her phone. The home screen flickered to life, revealing a text from Emmanuel.

-I know you’re busy with Anya right now, but I just wanted to let you know after our talk today we’re headed over to Crystals. No presh, but would love to see you.- Erin’s eyes glazed over the phone as she processed the contents of the message.

“Oh, it’s just Em,” Erin brushed off, returning to nuzzle under Anya’s arm.

“What does she want?” Anya asked. Erin quivered slightly, the red eyes of Anya filling her vision.

“She wants to know if we want to go out with her. And our other friends,” Erin tried to keep her voice casual. As if there would be no reason for that to be considered. All she wanted to do was stay with her Anya.

“Where are they going?” Anya asked.

Erin tried to shift her gaze away from Anya and found she couldn’t. She swallowed. “A bar called Crystals. In the West Village.”

Anya held Erin’s gaze for a moment as Erin felt her tongue dry. Anya’s smile cracked open. “Oh, darling we should go! I would love to take you out with your friends to celebrate such an occasion as this!” She glanced at the clock by the nightstand and shrugged. “Really, it’s not even that late. Especially in New York, really things are just waking up right now. Oh, it’s been a moment since I’ve treated myself to a little venture in the evening.”

Erin swallowed again. “Of course, Anya. Would you like to wear the new dress?”

Anya grinned, her red eyes shining in the darkness. “Oh lovely lovely. I still owe you a fashion show,” she said, and emerged from the bed to slip on the dress.

Erin flopped back to the pillow, Anya’s mesmer fading as her head swam. She sighed deeply. Erin had taken Anya out before. Used to do it more. But the last time Anya and she had gone out, the night had ended poorly. Erin did not care to repeat the experience again, and since then they had avoided going out to late night extravaganzas. These days it was fancy dinners in the rooftop restaurants, strolls along the streets before the depths of the night really set in.

Anya became a bit wild late in the night. Erin hoped nothing would go wrong and it would be a smooth outing. Perhaps dancing and drinks for a few hours, and then they would take a car home and continue their weekend of indulgence. That was all it was going to be. Especially around her friends.

Erin felt the weight from her stomach drop out from her as Anya stepped out from behind the brocaded french screen dressed to the nines in a luxurious maroon velvet dress with a plunging backline and a high collar leaving her breasts covered, but little left to the imagination with the way the dress hugged her figure. She pulled on the matching opera gloves.

“Takeshi has done it again,” she said, smoothing the dress down her abdomen as if it didn’t already fit her like a glove. “I’ll put my face on. Wear something stylish. Like that leather racing jacket I got you.”

A few moments later Anya strode arm and arm with Erin as she once again found herself descending to the C. The dismal rain had stopped and replaced itself with a biting wind, Anya’s bare arms remained goosebump-free and smooth as ever.

As they boarded the C together (with her Mistress, highly unusual behavior), Erin reflected on what once had been a fairly regular part of her life. When she had first started graduate school and dating around the city, she quickly became involved with an ever-entwining group of women who dated each other, dated around, sometimes dated men, a coalescent molecule undergoing chemical reaction. Regardless, each month (and sometimes each week) they would haul themselves to a bar, usually in the West Village but sometimes in Brooklyn and get wasted on graduate school money and dance and dance and dance until most people had paired off and those who hadn’t got dollar slices and commemorated how bad the next morning was going to be. And invariably do it again the next month.

On every first Thursday.

Why Thursday, Erin thought to herself as Anya twisted toward her, letting her lips linger just behind Erin’s ear, shielded by the curtain of her long hair. Emmanuelle had texted her they were already at Crystal’s, halfway to toasted from the bottom-shelf vodka or tequila someone would buy to pregame with. Affording drinks in NYC on a graduate stipend? Well, these days that wasn’t something Erin had to worry about. Buzzy from the bubbly champagne, but nowhere near as trashed as she would get with her old friends.

Erin had slowly stopped coming out, trickling down to a few times a year until it had been a year and a half since she had joined along. This wasn’t uncommon, for people to float in and out, but herself, Emmanuelle, Carry and Mari had been something of the core crew. Seeing as she still saw Emmanuelle on the regular, she had gotten consistent badgering. Nevertheless, inevitability has a way to bring itself to an end rather abruptly, and the alarm was ringing for Erin. They had met Anya (though not all of them may remember well), but this would be the first time everyone would see her with Anya as a sort of known set.

“Our stop is next, Mistress,” Erin turned her face to Anya, who had been resisting another drain at her ear. Anya caught her lips in hers and they shared a kiss behind that curtain of long, curly black hair.

Anya flicked her hair back effortlessly, somehow managing to still look elegant on the train as they exited at the Stonewall stop. Erin blew a kiss toward the old bar as the wind picked them up and gently pushed them down 4th street as they made their way to the usual corner. Thursday evening at this hour the streets weren’t exactly busy, but when was New York ever truly still? Various people scuttled home after their closing shifts, a few youngsters hollering as they staggered down the street. Anya’s eyes lit up with an energy Erin didn’t see particularly often. She was glad for the extra strength of the crab cake from earlier as she held Anya tightly against her arm as they made their way to Crystals, the bay window a warm glow against the chill November night.

“Aneley Quixano,” the butch security woman in a thick black jacket read from Anya’s passport. “I like your name.”

Anya smiled, leaning forward toward her, and the security woman caught her mesmer. “I go by Anya, my dear,” she whispered, and the poor woman reached out to caress Anya’s jaw. Erin jerked her away, and the woman shook her head like a wet dog, blinking.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “You can go in.”

“Control yourself,” Erin whispered as they passed into the warmth of the bar. Erin scanned the crowd, thinner than it would have been on the weekend, but nevertheless still busy. She spied her friends in one of the cramped booths beyond the bar, and they made their way over, weaving through people beneath the warm yellow crystal lights for which the bar was named.

“Yes, Erin,” Anya said cheekily, one of her eyebrows smirking, and Erin sighed. “Drink?”

“Corona, please,” Erin said, before softening. Anya did look remarkably delectable in that bespoke dress. She watched her lover mesmer the bartender, a young hustler in her early twenties with an undercut, and the bartender immediately ignored the other two people here before them to be drawn to Anya almost magnetically. Erin’s arms crossed instinctively as Anya leaned in, head close to the other woman, lips moving with her order even though Erin couldn’t hear what she said. The other woman laughed, throwing her jaw back at whatever Anya said, and scrambled to get the drinks. Anya left a bill on the bar and turned back to Erin with the drinks, passing her the beer and a slice of lime.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” Anya said. “Don’t worry, Erin Field. You are special to me.” Erin felt her whole abdomen turn into a pool of hot liquid at Anya’s attention. The lime she was squeezing accidentally squirted across her face. Anya kissed her cheek. “Now show me your friends.”

Erin’s face turned a hot pink as she made her way to the booth, and in slow motion the old crew turned to face her, Emmanuelle lunging out of the seat in excitement, Carry’s mouth falling open at her presence. There were a number of other people she did not know...it looked as though Emmanuelle had brought another one of her insanely hot flings, a tall woman with light brown skin and a cropped curly black pompadour. Carry had brought a man with sandy blonde hair hanging in a curtain of bangs. There were two other girls that didn’t look obviously part of the group, perhaps her replacements?

Erin’s ears rang slightly as everyone congregated, milling about each other as the music shimmered in the background, the clinks of glass against each other as drinks were shared about. Anya and Em hit it off almost immediately, and Erin felt bad for Emmanuelle’s date. Carry and Mari kissed each of her cheeks nearly simultaneously, and from the swelling chatter Erin caught that the names of her replacements were Rose and Léana. At some point Anya decided to treat everyone to a round of shots, and Erin felt a shot glass placed in her hand. She threw it back without a second thought.

“Let’s dance!” Mari crowed, and Anya latched herself to Erin’s side as they milled towards the back room of Crystals, calling them, drawing into the void. Mari reached out to grab Rose and Léana and haul them back with the group. Emmanuelle linked arms with Erin on her other side, and Erin felt Anya’s hand drift slightly. She squeezed on the arm linked with Anya’s, and Anya’s hand drifted back to her waist. Anya flipped her hair, her eyes glinting in the darkness.

Well-inebriated enough, Erin felt old habits return as she began to warm up, flowing to the French house that Em always longed to dance to, her hips swaying gently, her body twisting. She met Anya’s eyes and they glinted again, as she swept forward to catch Erin’s waist and hand and swing her in a contained tango step for just a moment, felt her body press against her own, and felt a throb of hunger in her core even despite their activities from earlier. The dance floor was less crowded than the bar, and they spread out like particles dispersing, enough room for all, letting themselves get lost in the dance. Erin’s eyes flicked between everyone, Em and her date grinding against each other in the dark, Carry’s date spinning to the music, Rose, Léana and Mari dancing together as the uncoupled set.

Time passed as people convulsed and fissured to get more drinks, piss, chatter at the edges. Erin felt the drink bubble to her head in pleasure, but nowhere near as inebriated as the old days. Her head spun pleasantly as she and Anya danced. She caught the glance of Emmanuelle, no partner this time. Erin and Em spun closer together, and Em interjected. “May I dance?” she asked Anya, and Anya let Erin go, withdrawing to the wall as Em and Erin shared a moment.

“So glad you came, Cherie,” Em said, kissing her cheek once again. “And you brought Anya. What a treat!”

“She’s on her best behavior tonight,” Erin said. “I hope.” Em threw her head back and laughed. Erin caught the smell of vodka on her tongue. “Whose house did you come from, darling?”

“Rose hosted,” Em said. “Isn’t she a gem? Mari hooked up with her briefly, but they decided they would rather be friends. Lee started graduate school at NYU this semester, and we met at the hospital. I looked at that bitch and knew we needed to be friends.”

“She’s also French?” Erin asked, getting up to speed.

“Southerner, yes,” Em said. “From Montpellier.”

“Sans blague,” Erin said, and Em’s eyes flashed.

“Yes, it’s been a delight,” Emmanuelle said. “All the better because of you. Now, I need some air for une clope. Why don’t you locate your mistress, she may have disappeared for another drink.”

Erin looked around, and indeed, Anya had disappeared. Erin’s fingers came to pinch her nose and Em patted her on the shoulder. “I’ll be back before too long.”

Erin spun around, eyes flicking over the crowd that Anya had abandoned and nowhere in the corners could she see her. Erin poked her head out by the bar. No Anya.

Erin felt her body go into a panic. No Anya, and with the energy high on a night like this...she closed her eyes and breathed through her nose. Perhaps Anya had made an exit as well, though it wouldn’t be air she needed. Erin magnetically moved through the bar and emerged in the side door to the ally, ducking her head either way. Em seemed to have gone out the front, or maybe she paused for a piss first.

Movement caught Erin’s eye, and she saw a roach scramble away from the light coming from the door. With her heightened dexterity Erin lunged and caught the roach, quickly shoving it into her mouth and crunching down. She felt an immediate spurt of roach goop at the back of her throat. Gross, but an immediate surge of adrenaline coursed through her blood as she swallowed the wretched thing. She sniffed. Anya was close.

She stalked down the alley, moving close to the speed of Anya, and time around her slowed as she sped up. There, down there, was that a shape? Was that movement? Her lover, down here with a cigarette alone?

Erin’s heartbeat slowed, pulsing once, then twice as she came upon the true sight at the back of the ally. Anya had pushed Emmanuelle’s date against the wall, her head askew and up to the sky, mouth open and skin white, with Anya’s fangs sunk to the lips against her neck, messy, blood running down her breast.

Erin ripped Anya off the girl, and bent to catch her as she slumped forward from the wall. The girl’s eyes were open but still. Glassy. Her jaw hung loosely as the blood flowed from her neck, pooling to the gum-crusted ground. Erin knew she couldn’t hear the girl’s heart from here, but still, as if going through the motions, reached to feel her pulse.

Her neck was still. Her body was growing cold.

Erin pulled herself up to her full height, facing Anya, standing taller than Erin but still somehow shrunken in the night.

“I told you to control yourself, Aneley!” Erin’s hoarse whisper cut her throat open. “This is why I don’t take you out! Invariably I have to deal with a dead body!”

Anya leaned against the alley wall, her gaze askance, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet Erin’s eyes. “Go home, Anya. I have to deal with this now.”

Anya twisted away from her like a cat slinking away. Even though she was the mistress of their relationship, she had crossed the line into Erin’s territory, and Erin was in control.

“She was too sweet,” Anya said softly. “And I couldn’t drain Em.”

“Just go,” Erin said, avoiding Anya’s gaze, avoiding her mesmer that would make Erin feel like this was acceptable. “I’ll meet you at home. I’ll deal with it.” I always have to deal with it.

Anya’s heels clicked against the sidewalk. She swept her hair into a ponytail and tied it with her opera gloves. For a moment her silhouette lingered at the entrance of the ally, and with two strides she was out of sight.

Strength coursing through Erin’s veins, she flipped the girl to her back. There was a slight sigh of relief at seeing the stranger. If Anya had drained Em, things would have been much, much worse. “I don’t even know your name,” she said, closing the girl’s eyes. Em moved through girls pretty quickly, so Erin was hoping this would get forgotten amongst the night’s debauchery, and Em would move on now that this girl had ghosted her. If only Erin had more information about how they had been getting along before. If she was invested...

No, Erin thought. Please let it be a fling. It has to be.

She hoisted the girl’s arm around her neck as if to support her drunkenly walking home, and made her way down Perry street towards Pier 45. Hopefully this could be dealt with quickly. She ducked among some of the trees. No eyes were on her.

She slipped the knife she carried out of her pockets and disguised the bites by stabbing the knife through the original wound. Hopefully this would be autopsied as a deadly mugging and nothing would drag on in the investigation. She emptied the girls’ pockets, her wallet, keys, phone, earbuds. Pepper spray. She slipped all but the wallet into her jacket pocket and opened the trifold, slipping her ID out of the pocket.

“Adeline Blaise,” Erin’s lips moved silently. Her driver’s photo was much less put together, her tight black curls shorter with less volume than tonight’s look. Erin bent to pick up the body, tucking the wallet into her back pocket, and hoisted her over her shoulder.

“For all of the ten minutes we spoke tonight, Adeline, you were lovely,” Erin said as she began filling her pockets with rocks. “I hope you enjoyed Em’s company. She’s a wild lover, that one.” Luridly, the memory of the second time they had slept together flashed in her mind. Em was the first person she had ever been strapped by. She shook her head, the memory fading from her mind’s eye. “Au revoir.”

She pushed the body into the Hudson River and watched it sink beneath the cloudy, murky water of the river. The body quickly disappeared beneath the filth. Erin’s stomach sank as well. It had been a minute since she had had to dispose of one of Anya’s cast-offs, but she remembered the days in the beginning of the relationship when Anya would supplement Erin’s drains with people on the street.

That was the life she had taken on when she had agreed to live with Anya. Clean up after her when necessary. Be her blood bag whenever she was hungry. Provide her with food when Erin was too weak to supplement. Be the sparkling tchotchke on Anya’s arm.

She stood as Adeline’s body sank out of sight. Someone was bound to find it eventually, but this whole city was riddled with dead bodies hastily gotten rid of. There were far worse criminals than a Vampire who had lost control. Anya would be fine. Erin threw her phone to the pavement and stomped on it with her heel. The phone cracked immediately, and Erin threw the broken phone in the trash can on the edge of the pier.

Erin hightailed back to the West Village and boarded the uptown C, feeling a wave of deja vu from a mere few hours prior. She hugged her arms close to her and pulled her knees to her chest. The train was much less crowded at this hour.

A handful of minutes later and she once again ascended through the lobby of Anya’s building, once more passing into the hallway of Anya’s cozy Manhattan Village condo. Anya appeared at the end of the hallway again, and strode toward her.

“My Erin, my Erin, my Erin, what would I do without you?” Anya asked, her nose nuzzling into Erin’s neck. Erin’s arms encircled her waist, and Anya pulled back to gaze into her eyes. Once more, Erin’s field of view was filled with those wild, sparkling red eyes.

“My Anya,” she said, and her heart melted in her chest. Anya pulled her in for a kiss, her cool lips pressing against hers.

“Come,” Anya said. “Let’s get back to what we were doing before all that ruckus.” Anya laced her fingers through Erin’s hand, and Erin let herself be led back to bed.