Scare Tactics II

Professor Scott stepped through the door of the chemistry building and looked out onto the rain-slicked steps and street beyond. A light drizzle coated the cars in the parking lot and made the stone steps and walkway glow in the reflected light of the street lamps. A pale, thin, November moon peeked through murky clouds silhouetting the finger like projections of naked tree limbs. There were no sounds but dripping water and the faint swishing of cars on the main street. The area was deserted except for Gregor, who slipped the raincoat from over his arm and slung it around him, more to ward off the chill than to protect him from the rain. He loved the rain. For some reason, the rain soothed him making him feel more human than usual.

The soft intake of breath behind Gregor alerted him. He turned, finding her quickly. She was standing pressed up against the stone building in the shadows, almost completely hidden. ‘Still,’ he told himself, ‘I should have known she was there. I must be getting old.’ He realized then that he couldn’t smell her even though she was close enough that he should. She stepped away from the wall coming forward out of the shadows and it was immediately apparent how he’d been fooled. He recognized her. She was a student from his late afternoon class. Her name was Ailsa and she looked nothing like the prim and proper young woman he’d grown used to seeing in the back row. There was no mistaking what she was. He had seen them before, even brushed past one in the dark once, but they were rare and had never troubled him. His mind raced recalling what he’d read about them, then discarded it. She was obviously not limited by the sun as he’d heard, so probably most of what he knew was myth.

She paused, letting him get a good look at her. Her hair fell long and luxuriously to her waist. She wore black leather pants that were spotted with tiny droplets of rain. A damp T-shirt clung to her body and was covered by a leather coat that swung just past her knees. Her skin glowed glistening white, made whiter by the clothing she wore. Brilliant red lips stretched over the sharpest teeth he’d ever seen. “Professor Scott,” she exhaled deep and throaty, “what a pleasant surprise.” The voice bridged the distance between them like a pair of invisible arms that wrapped around him and tried to pull him closer to her. Her eyes glittered malevolently and her intent was clear. For a second, he was terrified.

Gregor took a step backward even as his natural self-confidence and reason returned. He considered her and his options while he pasted a return smile on his features. “What brings you out so late on a rainy evening Ailsa?”

She shrugged. “I was hungry. I thought I’d get something to eat, but then it started to rain so I ducked in here under the eaves.” She emphasized the point by brushing some of the droplets from her pants and coat.

He watched her closely and detected no duplicity. ‘She’s telling the truth,’ he thought. ‘It’s just a chance meeting. She doesn’t know. She can’t know,’ he realized. He was very careful and seldom allowed himself to lose control. At fifty, the call of the night was much less insistent and the deli around the corner much more convenient. It had been months since his last foray and unlike her, he showed no outward signs of his condition. She couldn’t have been stalking him. He would have known. ‘At least she won’t get an easy meal,’ he thought to himself. “Well, let me feed you. My treat, of course.” He paused. “There’s a deli around the corner that will still be open.” He said it gallantly with a wave of his hand, knowing the phrasing would unsettle her.

Her smile faded and was replaced by serious contemplation. She sidestepped, the action of a predator sizing up its prey. He turned his back to the steps so he could continue to watch her. “I’m not much for deli food,” she returned continuing to circle him. He followed her taking the opportunity to move away from the steps and place the wall at his back.

“How about the French restaurant up the street? They have an excellent steak tartar. Barring that I’m sure I can improvise a stake to the heart.”

She stopped, her face changing to a frightening grimace. “You know.”

“I know,” he confirmed.

“It won’t help you.” She gathered herself and flew at him slamming his body hard against the wall. His head snapped back and impacted the stone with a sharp crack. She moved fast and her strength was surprising. He could feel her little hands tearing at the collar of his coat and shirt. He reached up, gripped her upper arms and, spinning them both out from the wall, flung her off him with all the energy he possessed. She sailed backwards her eyes rounding in surprise as she crashed into the stone railing that guarded two sides of the porch, and sat down hard on the concrete. Lifting her head, she looked at Gregor, her confusion apparent.

Gregor rubbed the back of his head and felt the sticky warmth of blood already congealing. He waited, facing her, knowing she would try again. She couldn’t afford not to, now she knew he was aware of her secret. He didn’t wait long. She rose quickly, sending him a cautious glance. Moving slowly toward him she extended her hand. Her voice rolled out like a siren song. “You have uncommon strength Professor. Did I hurt you? Come closer. Let me help you.”

Gregor laughed. “Your voice has no effect on me Ailsa. But if you’d like more of the same, feel free to try again.” He smiled as Ailsa gritted her teeth in frustration. The next second she shot forward, just a blur that his mind could barely follow. She collided against him with such force that he was literally lifted off his feet and thrown to the floor. She fell with him, her weight forcing the breath from his body. She caught his shoulders and pounded his head against the cement, twice. He reached around her back and tangled one fist in her hair. As she bent her head to his throat scratching it with her teeth, he yanked hard on the hair, forcing her head back. He didn’t know if she could feel pain, but he hoped so. Pulling harder until her back arched, he slipped his other hand between them. He wrapped it around her throat, knowing it wouldn’t kill her if he closed the airway off. Pushing and squeezing at the same time, he lifted her. She struggled furiously, slicing at his face with nails that suddenly seemed a foot long. He continued to force her upward away from his throat, until, with a groan, he threw her sideways onto the concrete. Rolling over and pinning her to the ground, he looked down into her eyes and saw fear. Bloody tears formed behind her lashes and began to slide down the side of her face. “So you can feel pain,” he said hoarsely.

Ailsa drew a tortured breath past the hand that still clutched her throat. “What are you?” she gasped out.

Gregor relaxed, letting his body soften and reform. Shock was written in every line of Ailsa’s face, as she watched the startlingly rapid transformation of his features. He halted the process halfway, while he still had the power of speech. “Do you see?” he snarled. She nodded. “I can kill you easily,” he growled deliberately showing his gleaming fangs.

Ailsa stared straight into his face and smiled. It was self-assured, full of amusement, and completely changed her appearance. It was so compelling, he forgot she’d attacked him, that she was his enemy, forgot everything but how beautiful she was. Then she dissolved from under him. One moment he was staring at her and the next she was gone. Only a light mist, wrapping itself around him and slipping away across the porch then down the steps, remained. He sat up and looked around feeling dazed.

The mist coalesced at the bottom of the steps, shimmering in the reflected light. He watched in astonishment as Ailsa formed and became solid. “Professor,” she called up to him, “you astound me. I thought creatures like you were merely folktales.” She gave him a stunning smile. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not that easily dispatched.”

Gregor smiled too, feeling his body go back to normal. “I’m not disappointed. I’m impressed.” He suddenly felt like hunting. Looking at her standing there, a number of interesting possibilities passed through his mind. He stood and crept down the steps, wanting to see if she would run from him, all the while hoping she wouldn’t. She didn’t. He stopped on the last step and held out a hand. “I’ve worked up an appetite and I see that you’re a woman of many talents. Perhaps we can work together. Learn to share.”

Ailsa studied him a long moment, considering, and then solemnly took the offered hand. “I agree. It should be interesting.” The next instant, she’d released him and was twitching off down the sidewalk. He went after her, content to stay behind. “I get to pick the first target,” she called over her shoulder.

Gregor laughed. “Feel free, as long as I get the first bite.”