Authors: Diane Whiteside
I was really glad then for the sergeant’s insistence on having a good looking cruiser. All those wax jobs that I’d cursed at sure came in handy when a bad boy is pumping your body across the hood…
I woke up the next morning, naked as a jay bird in the back seat of my cruiser. I had bruises all over me, plus scratches and bites. It looked like I’d gone five rounds with the champion and the ache between my legs confirmed his prowess. I pulled my uniform on and headed home for a quick shower and change before going on duty again.
The worst bite, on my neck over my jugular, healed within two days so no one at the station ever noticed anything.
The hardest part to explain was why my handcuffs had to be replaced. I’d found them in pieces next to the cruiser and well, I couldn’t tell the sergeant what had been going on before that bad boy snapped them, could I?
And I thanked my guardian angel that I never had to discuss this night with my sergeant. He’d have fired me for sure if he knew just what went on that night…
* * * * *
Steve sat still, watching Ethan sleep. Her neck itched and she rubbed it reflexively.
Her finger came away with a drop of blood.
Ethan’s chest slowly rose. And fell.
She smiled, the contented smirk of a tabby cat eyeing a fresh saucer of milk as the sky darkened outside.
A Tale Of Don Rafael Perez
April 5th:
I got the job at the raptor center, thank God. Not many good jobs for wildlife veterinarians around, let alone one that combines research and veterinary medicine with owls. Start date: June 5th.
There’s sure a lot of stuff to get done first though. Just packing my books will take a long time.
I’ve always dreamed of working with raptors, especially owls. It’s so incredible that I’m going to be paid to do so.
The other big dream is to marry and have children.
I want to get started on marriage and a family right away, now that I’ve got a regular job. My biological clock is ticking and I’d like to bear children while my fertility is still good. But I need to find someone who’ll be a good father—caring, committed, around all the time. A steady job would help, just to show that he’s reliable.
But mostly, I want a man who’d do anything for his kids. Not someone who’d dump his heroin addict of a girlfriend and let his child grow up in orphanages. My children are going to grow up in a solid family with both parents around, not the way I did.
The real question is how to find the right man. I’ve never dated much and I don’t know any men that I’d like to have children by. Maybe I should check into dating services down there. They should at least be able to help find men who’d be good fathers. They’re probably the best bet for finding someone. I just wonder if I’ve got the nerve to go out with the men they suggest.
May 31st:
San Tomas, Texas: It’s a very small town (500 people maybe) and I’ve got a little house on the outskirts with an acre of land. It’s the most space I’ve had in my life, except when doing fieldwork. The landlord says there’s some good jogging routes so my daily five miles should be very pleasant. My old pickup fits in just fine, as do my T-shirts, jeans and boots. It’s only 20 minutes to the rescue center so I’ll drop in there tomorrow. I should be unpacked by then anyway.
Have to review my notes about who’s who at the center, including what they look like. It’s been months since I was there and I need to greet them right.
June 1st (afternoon):
I stopped by the rescue center, which was having an open house. Folks were just as nice as when I interviewed and seemed genuinely glad to see me.
They showed me my office: Grania O’Malley, M.S., D.V.M., Ph.D. is the name on the door.
I nearly cried when I saw that. Sister Mary Catherine always said my name would be written like that one day. I wish she was still alive to see it.
We went through the rest of the facility, which is much the same as when I interviewed. It’s quieter though, even with the visitors, since it’s not hatching season with lots of fledglings to nurse. They’ve got a few interesting cases in the clinic though, as well as some new equipment.
I spoke to one of the visitors, Caleb Jones, who’s a geologist working locally and a really nice guy. We chatted for a few minutes about our specialties, the local ecosystem, higher education we’d suffered through, and other standard academic social topics, while watching his boss talk to Bob, the center’s director.
Caleb introduced me to his boss, Rafael Perez, when the man joined us after Bob was called away. I became tongue-tied and stammered “Señor Perez” like an adolescent schoolgirl. I even blushed. Silly behavior for me since I’ve never behaved like that around a man, even when I was a teenager. But I swear I went weak in the knees when I saw him walk up to us, gliding like the mountain lion I saw once in Utah. Crazy reaction to someone that I mostly watched and only said those two words to.
Maybe it’s because he’s such a big man that I barely come up to his shoulder, when I’m used to looking most men in the eye. If I socialized more, I’d probably have a better idea of how to cope with such a masculine presence.
But he was polite to me, no more, before he left. Linda, the receptionist, said that he watched me as much as I watched him. But I didn’t see any signs of that so she was probably teasing.
Bob wouldn’t let me start yet and Linda finally shooed me off. He promised they’d call if they needed me so I gave her my pager and cell phone numbers.
Now I’ve got a weekend free for the first time in how long? Years, anyway. Maybe I’ll try to spot some owls and get started on my research down here.
I studied the map and then drove the center’s boundaries. It’s completely within a public park whose big lake was very busy, even allowing for the Memorial Day holiday week.
There was plenty of beer in sight but no cops visible. Linda said they don’t usually have any problems with drunks, but they’re 5 miles from the lake anyway.
The center itself is towards one edge of the park, which borders on some private land owned by a trust. It’s rough terrain so it’s never been farmed or ranched; the ecosystem is still virgin. Bob wants to do research there, of course, but can’t get permission. The trust hasn’t said yes, but hasn’t said no either. Linda said they’re hoping to coax the trust’s administrator into agreeing.
June 1st (evening):
I spent some time studying the recommendations from the dating services and watching the videos, carefully noting which men sounded like the best fathers. There’s a wide variety of men represented but that’s not surprising. I hadn’t really specified much except parental qualities.
Then I went out with my night vision goggles and camera to do some owl watching. It was much easier to be around owls than all those men talking about what they wanted in a relationship. I had plenty of good sightings, which I recorded in my logbook.
It’s the events after that, which confuse me. But I’m just going to record all the facts, while I still remember them. I can analyze them later, after time gives me some perspective.
I gradually worked my way towards the lake. It was fairly quiet by then since most of the people had gone to bed. I could see a lightning storm light up the sky miles away but it was just hot and humid where I was. I could hear the small animals start moving around. The mesquite smell was quite distinct and I tried not to get too many twigs caught in my hair.
I finally found myself sitting still at the edge of a thicket, watching a horned owl that was a really magnificent male. I slowed my breathing, using some yoga exercises, and let myself blend into the scene.
I heard two people coming; well, actually I heard the woman first. She was loud, with a voice that combined the worst of Brooklyn and Texas. The man kept kissing her, which shut her up some. But then he’d do something else that freed up her mouth and she’d start letting loose with that voice. She had a really filthy mouth, talking about what she wanted from him. But it sounded as if he was carrying through on her requests.
I stayed still since I didn’t have an easy way to get out of there unnoticed.
They stopped in the clearing next to my thicket. I could see them easily. I probably didn’t need my night-vision goggles, given the moonlight. But with the goggles, I could see every detail. (I must remember to thank Bob for getting me military goggles, especially this brand-new prototype.)
The woman was blonde, with breasts that came from a catalog, not genetics.
The man was big, two meters tall, muscular, black hair and dark eyes, strong profile; I’ll remember that face forever. He looked like a fighter, nothing like a wimp.
It was Rafael Perez, the man I’d just met at the center.
He kissed her and kneaded those breasts through her T-shirt. She moaned some and clutched at him, definitely enjoying herself. Pretty soon he had his hand down her shorts and she started humping his hand ferociously. He quickly pulled her shorts and T-shirt off. Then his hands really became busy. Mercifully, his mouth stayed over hers and kept her fairly quiet, except for grunts and such.
He eased her down on the ground, with her legs spread. His hand kept working her, masturbating her until she started coming in a series of waves. I’m sure she was having multiple orgasms.
I couldn’t stop watching; I was frozen in place.
Then his mouth left hers, setting her free to start screeching again, and he bit her on the neck. It wasn’t a nice little nip either but a deep puncture.
I choked.
He stopped for just an instant while his eyes searched the clearing. I went as still as I could, trying to make myself invisible. A little voice whispered in my head, “G
o away
.” I ignored the voice; I couldn’t leave without making noise to get out of the thicket. The little voice kept urging me to leave but I stayed where I was. I started to get a headache behind my eyes as the voice got louder, until it almost reached a shout. Still, I didn’t panic and run but remained in the thicket.
He evidently didn’t see me because his attention finally went back to her.
He started sucking her. I could see his fangs penetrate her flesh and his cheeks hollow as he drank her blood. He didn’t take much though, probably a little less than a pint.
His fangs were at least three centimeters long. The only thing I could think of was that he was a vampire. But I couldn’t believe that. Vampires are creatures of myth and legend, studied by social scientists. They’re not observed, while feeding, by a veterinarian.
I was shocked. I’ve seen predators take their prey before, at even closer range than this, but an attack on a human female was new to me.
I was scared to death. I started wondering what I should do. Should I try to stop him? How?
But all the time, I could hear that screech of hers, carrying on like he was God’s gift to women. So I stayed frozen, telling myself that I must be mistaken, that she wasn’t being hurt.
She caressed his head when he stopped drinking. He began to lick her shoulder and she just kept petting him, talking about how good he was in little gasps. When she’d recovered herself and her voice was back to its usual volume, he helped her to get dressed.
I could see a few drops of blood on her neck, just above her jugular.
They walked back towards the lake together, arm in arm. I followed them cautiously, as quietly as I could, which is very quiet indeed given my years of fieldwork. He was supporting her at first but gradually she started walking more and more on her own. She talked about shopping and chocolate, telling him that he was better than either.
They split up when they got in sight of the lake. She kissed him on the cheek and headed towards the lake alone, singing a pop song.
He watched her go while I kept an eye on him. When she was out of sight, he stretched his arms and legs, then his back. He looked almost like a bird preening on its nest. He was graceful too, which is hard to believe of someone that muscular.
Suddenly he shimmered. I blinked in surprise. When I focused again, a very big horned owl was taking off from where the man had been standing. (I know that owl wasn’t there before. I have no explanation for this; I’m just recording what I saw.)