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The Guardian was a nice little bar for a college town. Quiet, comfortable, more like a club than a meat market, and the proprietors didn't bring in bands, or start idiot promotions to get the college kids to come in.

The atmosphere in the place was simply comfortable, where students could meet, mix quietly, and talk about things rather than seeming to be constantly on the make.

As a result, the little bar attracted the best of the students of Ravencrest.

And I had become a regular there in the past few years.

In spite of the bloodlust I still tended to be prone to suffering, I liked the surroundings, and the company. If I wished to satisfy my other needs, I went to one of the rowdy bars in town.

Tonight I was comfortable in a pair of jeans, ballet shoes, and a simple white sweater. That the jeans displayed all my lower curves, while the sweater left little to the imagination regarding my upper half didn't matter. I simply looked to be 'one of the girls' as I was dressed at the moment and that suited what I wanted. Modern mores about how a girl could dress were so much easier to deal with than they had been when I became what I am.

Given my life and the places I'd been with the things I'd done up to being more or less stuck in Ravencrest, the ability to go to a nice quiet place was refreshing.

Until I heard what one of the young men in the place was telling his friends.

That got my undivided attention.

“They show up in personal accounts since back in the 15th century.” The fellow, nicely shaped, and really quite good looking — his pheromones nearly drove me crazy when I smelled them — young man told his small audience.

“The first account was in France, During the reign of Louis XIV.” He told his audience. “At first it was nothing really noticeable, just a mention of mysterious dark haired beauty charming the nobility.

“But a lady with the same description shows up in personal accounts of French nobles forty years later.”

“A daughter, or granddaughter?” One the girls in his audience offered.

“That's what I thought at first.” He admitted. “But then the same description of a beautiful, seductive lady appears a hundred years later. Then again in Paris at the time of the French Revolution and this is where things start to get interesting.”

“How so?” A pretty coed with hair nearly as bright as mine asked. “So far you have personal accounts of someone who seems to be the same woman and nothing else.

“And we all know that personal accounts of things tend to be inaccurate at best.”

“Because,” He smiled, “during the French Revolution, another lady joined her. One that is far easier to track because she was a redhead. And that one moved around with the original sister but left an even better trail in history through private accounts of the people who met her.”

“So now there are two of them.” The same girl shrugged. “What is your point here?”

“They stayed in France as the Revolution kept going.” He told them. “Then left when things settled down there and moved into Germany where Prussia was subduing, bullying, and enticing the separate German states into becoming one country. It was a bloody time in the history of Germany, and those two are mentioned in more than one personal account from notables of the day.

“Then the same pair of ladies showed up in Russia. Ten years later but their descriptions hadn't changed. They were still young, still very seductive, and still doing whatever it was they were doing.”

“After that they were in Albania, Serbia, Greece.” He added. “Always the same descriptions of them. Even after years had passed, they didn't change and were in places there was strife and lots of death. Then they went to South America — Bolivia, Columbia, all places where the break from the mother country was violent and bloody.

“Then they moved into the United States during the Civil War.” He told his audience.

“Then the third one in the group appeared.” He went on. “Following the battle at Gettysburg, accounts of the 'sisters' suddenly had a third member.”

“Which means?” The girl who had been questioning up to them asked.

“It means that these ladies are always in places full of strife and bloodshed. And every time a new one shows up is in one of those bloody, violent places. They are following unrest, violence, and death.”

“So what happened next?” The same girl asked.

“They were in Richmond, Atlanta, New Orleans right after the war. All places where people died and no one asked too many questions when that kind of thing happened.

“Then I lost them.”

“So where do you think they went, or did?” The girl asked.

“I think they went to ground.” He responded with a shrug. “They found somewhere to hide and stay out of sight.”

“Why would they do that?” The girl questioned. “They moved all the time and were always people that the locals seemed to accept. So why would they just vanish, and with that question, how do you think they did that and what do you think they were?”

“They are very smart.” He answered. “And they had to know they were leaving a trail if someone was persistent enough to follow it.

“As to what they were — are?” He let out a sigh. “I think they're vampires.”

He was right in a lot of things. Fortunately, no one took him seriously. We had gone to ground but not because of the tenuous trail we had left behind us. Wisteria had done something to anger someone who was more powerful than we were, and we were unable to go more than half a mile from the little town of Ravencrest. But she still wasn't telling what she'd done, and with the rather shaky relationship I had with my Maker at that point in time, I couldn't really press her for details.

But this boy had found us, and followed us through the years. He was dangerous to us even if no one believed what he was saying.

I would have killed him that night, but again, no one believed him and his sudden death would have drawn attention to the things he was saying.

So I did the next best thing.

I introduced myself to him.

I walked up to the table where he had been holding court and gave him a smile. “I'm sorry, I couldn't help but hear what you've been saying here. I'm interested.”

He looked up at me, and I exerted just a bit of the charisma and fascination males had for me and my kind with a little smile.

“Carmilla.” I offered while holding out a hand for him to hold, kiss, or ignore.

“Josh McEntire.” He answered while taking my offered had and smiling so hard I could tell what he was thinking without my ability to read people and their intentions coming into play.

He found me beautiful, and fascinating. Which given who and what I was, didn't surprise me at all. It's the ones who resist that are the real challenge, and yes, there are men who can and do resist the charms my kind have to work with.

But Josh was mine from that introduction.

“Would you like to know where those ladies went after you lost track of them?”

“You know where they went?” He questioned almost sceptically.

“Oh, yes.” I assured him, then gave him tidbits of information from the times we had left Richmond and moved north. “How did you find them? If you don't mind me asking.”

“I'm a history major.” Josh shrugged. “Actually, I'm working on my masters so I had find some obscure thing to impress my professors with.”

“So what led you to start following these women you've been talking about?

“I was digging through personal accounts of the times.” He told me. “And found some very vivid descriptions of first one lady then two, then three, that kept recurring as the years passed. The descriptions were too exact, too close, for me to think the people being described were different people from the previous accounts.”

“Which leads you to believe that they are... what? Vampires?”

“That is a stretch.” Josh admitted with a grin. “But there a few accounts of people seeing these ladies drinking blood from other people.”

“Maybe they just had a kink for blood?”

“I don't think so.” He answered. “The stories about them doing that are way too far apart in years, for it to be a simple fetish. I think I've found at least proof in print that vampires do exist.”

Oh yes, this one was dangerous. Then again, no one believed his theories. Still, I couldn't allow his speculations to get out into the general public. Either he needed to die, or be brought into the fold. With his obvious internet and search skills, getting him into the fold would be the better option. But I couldn't just do that.

Wisteria would simply kill him out of hand.

But I saw potential, and used that.

Because of that, my children were far more talented and capable than Wisteria's.

So I took a path that she would have condemned, and admittedly was dangerous.

“What would you say if I told you I could tell you what happened to those three once they left Richmond?” I asked while briefly touching his cheek with my finger tips.

“You're the redhead in those accounts, aren't you?” He was frighteningly perceptive.

“If I am?” I smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

He took a bit of time to recover from that because I'd given him, and taken, a good amount of tongue. “Then you are a monster.”

“A monster?” I laughed and did a slow turn in front of him. “Tell me, does THIS look like a monster to you?”

Oh, I'd managed to get out of my jeans and top by the time I asked that, and we were in a back room.

“Is this a monster?” I smiled while taking off my bra and shrugging out of my panties.

All he could do was gasp and shake his head.

Damn but he was GOOD in bed.

And that act put my seal on him. No matter what Wisteria, my maker might wish, Josh was mine to do with as I would. Even she couldn't dispute or preempt that.

“So.” I whispered into his ear once we'd finished fucking like rabbits. “Do you still want to know what happened with those three after Richmond?”

“You know I do.” He told me, trying to be academic. But I'd taken him into myself, and had tasted of his blood, so that demand was nothing I had to acknowledge. But he would be a real asset to our sisterhood, so I smiled at him, and nodded.

“Then I'm going to tell you a story here.” I ran a hand over his naked crotch and smiled. “But you really need to pay attention to the story.”

“You kind of make that,” he gasped, “hard to do, you know.”

“It is what I do, love.” I grinned at him and pulled my hand away from his very sensitive regions. “I make men love me.”

He had no response to that.

“What did you you do to me?” Joshephina, formerly Josheph wailed as she was watching the available food we had in postwar Atlanta.

“You know that, dearest.” I chided. “You've been as you are for months now. You have fed, so you know all too well what you are, and what I did was simply keeping you from dying.”

“So this is not some fevered dream?” She asked in that velvet voice that even got my juices flowing.

“No, dear.” I stroked a hand over her so delicate and beautiful cheek. “This is life for you now. Accept it or die.”

She accepted it. Though her stubborn wish to have female lovers was a bit of a problem for a few years. But I was patient and admittedly manipulated her into a position where she had no choice but take a man as a woman does.

The day after that she found me on a balcony, watching the activies in Postwar Richmond and had a very odd look on her face. “Carmilla?”

“Yes, dear?” I asked as I turned to look at her, in the obvious blush of discovery a young woman shows after her first sexual encounter with a man she likes.

“You were right.”

I simply raised an eyebrow and waited.

“Cyril was wonderful.” She slowly got out. I learned that this body is made to have a man make love to it, to me, and that the feelings — the feelings are as good or better than anything I've experienced before.”

“You are made for that.” I shrugged, then stopped her next question with a slightly raised hand. “No, I didn't do it to you. It's simple biology my dear. Male, female, and you are most assuredly female. It was only a matter of time until you realized that and actually let yourself enjoy time with a decent man.”

“And now that I've found that we're leaving.” She pouted.

“There will be others.” I smiled at her. “Besides, we three have outworn our welcome here. People are beginning to notice some of Wisteria's excesses, and our more careful feedings. It is simply time to move on.”

Then Wisteria led us to the damned backwater town of Ravencrest.

And somehow got us stuck there.

I was ushered into the office and smiled at the man who quickly stood and moved to greet me properly. “Miss DuLac, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Thank you.” I smiled and let him take my hand, even allowed the delicate little touch of his lips to its back before gently pulling it away from him. “I am honored and pleased that you are willing to take the time to greet me personally in this way.”

“I always try to meet our new teachers before they get embroiled in the curriculum.” Cyrus Edmond Vance gave me an oily smile and gestured to a plush chair situated to the side of his desk. “Classic Literature, is something I'm certain you are well suited to teaching.”

Meaning that he didn't believe that a mere woman could teach anything important, beyond passing along to other younger women and girls how to manage a household and raise the children their husbands got on them. But his attitude wasn't unusual for the times, and he was urbane, well spoken and not at all hard to look at.

He was a toad. With my ability to read people from gestures, facial expressions, scent, and a few other things, I could tell he was already plotting ways to get me into a much more intimate situation with him, then would simply discard me. The slimy bastard.

“Thank you Headmaster.” I smiled and his desires for me worked well enough with what I had planned anyway. Not that having a man, any man, thinking those kinds of things about me was unusual. I'd had princes, bankers, even churchmen taste of my charms and tasted them in return. “I trust my credentials are adequate then?”

“Very much so, Miss DuLac.” He nodded. “The college in Richmond sent a glowing letter of recommendation to my request. Several, in fact.”

“Good.” I gave him a smile calculated to slow down his upper head and get that lower one that can always be the downfall of even a good man thinking for him. “When do you wish for me to start?”

The tight, restrictive skirts of the time, the corset worn under everything, and the lace drowned blouse I was wearing actually helped display some of my physical charms as I negotiated carefully into the offered chair. Once there, I 'negligently' rearranged the lace running down the front of my blouse, pausing just long enough at my breasts to make sure he noticed them. Then I gave him an attentive look and simply sat there with my hands folded demurely in my lap.

“Would next week be a strain?” He asked and I could smell that my little display had done its job.

“Of course, that would be fine.” I almost purred in response. “We are well settled in here now, and I am anxious to get started.”

“Excellent.” Mr. Vance smiled in response and I was very amused at his surreptitious attempts to quell the lower response that I had deliberately incited.

“I am having a dinner for some of the staff here.” He told me. “Perhaps if you would accept my invitation you would have the chance to get better acquainted with other teachers here.”

“I would be delighted to come.” I gave him a smile that was both pleased and grateful.

“Tomorrow evening.” He told me, then gave me the address. “I can send a coach for you if you like.”

“That would be wonderful.” I answered, then stood up. “Until then, sir.”

“It has been a pleasure, miss.”

“All yours.” I thought while offering another winning smile. “But the pleasure will be all mine in times to come.”

“The man is thief.” Josephine told me as she handed me the sheaf of papers our current bank had sent regarding the accounts of Ravencrest Academy. “He has been taking money from not only the fees paid to attend, but from every donation people have made to the school.”

I read through the papers, spotted the tell tale signs, and nodded. “Yes, he's clever about it, but his office was just a bit to opulent for the Headmaster of a school that is obviously struggling.”

The use of banks, and the letters of credit they issued to large depositors had been something that I discovered many years ago. It was absurdly simple once considered. You found a decent firm of solicitors, had them approach the institution on behalf of a client, and deposited whatever sum you had available. One that was done, it was simple matter to move the rest of the monies to a new bank. That it had to be done through male solicitors was a bit annoying, but I made certain the Swiss firm that we used was paid well enough to insure that they would accept any orders from me regarding our finances. Carrying large amounts of cash, gold, or jewels, was not only a pain, it tended to single us out when that was not needed.

I'd decided to do things that way long before Josephine had joined us. Wisteria was far more 'into the moment' about things and refused to worry about finances beyond what she required at the time.

“So what are you going to do about this, since we are heavily invested in the Academy now? Josephine asked.

“I should just ruin the man.” I told her then let out a sigh. “But that would also ruin his family who have no conception of what he is really doing. Our bankers and solicitors could come in, ferret out all of his little schemes, and make them public. But I do not want to do things that way.”

“Exposing his activities so closely with the new, rather large donation, coupled with our appearance in town, could be awkward.” She nodded.

My daughter, I'd taught her well, not that she didn't have the intelligence or ambition to be more than just a pretty face on her own.

“So Headmaster Vance is going to suffer an unfortunate accident.”

“That would be better all around.” Josephine nodded. “But have you found a replacement for him yet?”

“Yes.”

“And who would that be?”

“Me.” I grinned and explained. “I have the credentials thanks to the glowing references I have from schools in Atlanta, New Orleans, and Richmond.

“Given all those, shouldn't you appear to be a bit — umm — older?”

“Easily explained when I tell people my grandmother still had her raven hair and an unlined face at the age of sixty.” I chuckled. We hadn't spent more than a few years in any of those cities, so the reason I still appeared so young would work.

“Well, you certainly don't act like a woman in her early twenties.” Josephina laughed.

“I've been a 'young woman in her twenties' for nearly a hundred years dear.”

“Now.” She launched into another topic, knowing that the difficulty with Cyrus Vance was solved. “I have located some suitable gentlemen for all of us to be seen with.”

My Josephine. Even more pragmatic about things than I was.

“Good.” I patted her shoulder then gave her porcelain cheek a little touch of my fingertips. “I will leave it to you to arrange the proper introductions.”

“Oh, that won't be at all difficult.” She laughed. “Eligible bachelors are falling over each other trying to get our attention. All we need do is host a soiree and we be able to pick and choose.”

The coach that Cyrus sent to fetch me was a bit of a surprise. It was unpretentious, and pulled by a pair of horses. With the proliferation of the new motorcars, I had entertained the idea that he would send one of those for me.

So he was being discrete.

That was not only interesting, but gave me what I needed to get rid of him.

He obviously did not wish for anyone to take undue note of my visit.

The coachman took my little smile as anticipation.

It was, but not in the way he thought.

I was a little sad that I would have to remove his memories of this night, since I did allow him to see a very beautiful woman being not only gracious, but friendly with him. I decided then and there to give him something he would remember, if only vaguely. I don't like stealing people's memories from them. At least not regarding the sexual encounters they had experienced.

The place I was taken was just as nondescript as the coach. A small cottage in the forest well away from town. Men of prominence in any community always seemed to have places like this for their dalliances. So much the better in my estimation.

No one would hear him scream, and this time I fully intended for one of my dalliances to scream. This man had seduced at least half the female teachers he lorded it over, and even some students. Now he was going to discover how one felt when a predator was after him.

And I had no intention of being kind with that lesson.

“Welcome, Miss DuLac.” He gave me a knowing smile as he answered the door himself.

“Oh, call me Carmilla.” I returned his smile and ran a fingernail along his cheek as I smiled while looking inside. No one else was there, and I widened my smile a bit. “I thought there were going to be others here?”

“Did you?” He asked and invited me in.

“Not really.” I shrugged while handing him my wrap. He took the delicate bit of silk and quite frankly gave what I was wearing a long, contemplative look.

I was wearing a dress in the somewhat old southern style. With the petticoats, and the almost shameful — in those times — display of the shadows between my breasts. “So what were your intentions for this meeting?”

“I see you already know that.” Cyrus grinned.

“Oh, indeed I did.” I leaned forward once the door was closed to give him a slow, but fairly chaste kiss. “Did I mistake your intent?

“Not at all, lovely lady.” He touched my breasts, and leaned forward for another kiss.

“Then I do believe we could do without dinner.” I leaned away from his face and gave him the smile that any woman gives a man she wants.

“We can have that later.” He answered while taking my hand and leading me inside.

“Oh, that is good.” I ran one hand over his cheek then down to his throat. “Do you wish to undress me, or have me do it for you?”

“Oh, do it for me.” He grinned.

I had disliked him before. But given the way he was watching me, I actually started to hate him. Not that I hadn't had other men say that to me. But those hadn't bothered to hide their dalliances, or try to show them as something they weren't. I was going make this man hurt. Physically mentally, and emotionally.

I will not describe what we did that night.

But in the end he was begging me to make it stop.

I took one last drink, broke his neck, and made it look as if he had fallen from the loft.

Then spent some time with the coachman, and made certain he would recall things as I wished.

Josh looked at me in disbelief, then fear filled his eyes, not to mention his scent. “That was you in that story. You killed that man just because he was in your way?”

“Oh there was more to it than that.” I assured him. “But you'll see that once you calm down and think about what I just told you. Believe me when I tell you that Cyrus Vance deserved all of what I gave him, and more.”

“But couldn't you have just — sent him away?”

“I could have.” I nodded and finished getting dressed as I watched him through lowered lashes. “But he would have just done the same things somewhere else.”

“So now what?” He couldn't look right at me and his terror was very obvious as he asked. “Are you going to kill me, too?

“Joshua, Joshua,” I shook my head and gave him a smile, “if I had decided you needed to die that would have happened already. I don't kill needlessly regardless of what you think just now.”

“So that only answers part of my question.” He was still terrified.

“Keep your head down, continue going to class, and say nothing of what you've heard or deduced so far.” I told him. “I can protect you, but only so far. If you go around proclaiming that there are vampires in Ravencrest you would constitute a danger that can't be ignored. Do as I ask and you should be fine.”

I didn't bother to tell him that he wouldn't say a word about what he'd learned because he was now firmly in my control. The poor boy was terrified enough and terrified tools tend to become rather useless quickly.

I had more than one option as far his usefulness went, and I would protect him. Wisteria had already killed one of mine and if I could do anything to prevent it, that wouldn't happen again.

Even up to killing the crazy bitch.

Which presented problems of it's own, but those I would work through soon enough.

“What happens if I don't do as you ask?” Josh asked with a trembling voice.

“Just do as I ask.” I told him and planted a sensuous kiss on his mouth. “And there will much more of that. Don't and — well, trust me, you don't really want to know what could happen.”

“No, I d-don't.” He stuttered.

“Poor boy.” I stroked his cheek and even though he flinched other parts of him reacted very positively. “Do as I tell you and you'll be fine. I'll be watching over you.”

He took the threat and promise as it was meant and simply nodded his head.

“Good.” I smiled and kissed him again. “I'll be seeing you.”

He wasn't all that sure whether to be terrified or anxious for that. I walked out the door and down the short hallway that led back to the Guardian's common room. I had an 'understanding' with the owner of the place. What I did in that back room was never questioned.

Of course, I owned the Guardian. So that was understandable. The visible owner was a front, well paid for the trouble, but he was a face for the public. It wouldn't do to be known as the owner of a bar when people tended to forget all about me every four or five years.

Another thing Wisteria managed that I would need to learn. While she simply absorbed the magic from the gifted ones she fed on, I preferred doing things the old fashioned way. By learning for myself. True, it was harder that way, but I really learned as opposed to Wisteria's tendency to forget things after awhile.

Once I was back in the pub proper, I took in the crowd, but two people in particular caught my attention. One was Wisteria's newest, who should have mine. The other was Charlotte. That one was a real piece of work and no one sane would go up against her without preparation.

So I used one of my abilities and shrouded myself to watch the pair.

Charlotte was doing her usual, trolling for a good fuck and a meal.

But 'Katie' was having problems, speaking with someone who wasn't there, and definitely having a problem with the usual feeding dance of our kind. Interesting. Kyle had thrown off Wisteria's spell once before and it was clear that Kylie, or whatever her name would be eventually, was still fighting the imposed personality of Katie. As she rushed, all right ran in near panic out one of the emergency exits, I stopped the alarm from going off and thoughtfully decided that I would wait for her when she returned to the House.

Whatever I saw then would dictate how the next proceedings would go.

“So how is our newest coming along?” I asked Josephine as I washed myself and got into a comfortable negligee and robe.

“Very well.” My oldest child grinned. “She is already showing a good deal of control over her hunger.”

“Very good.” I nodded. “In spite of her tenuous grasp of reality before her change, I am sure our little Pandora is going to become very important to us in the future. Keep watching her as closely as you have been for now, but otherwise give her the leeway to do as she wishes.”

“You know I will.”

“Still haven't lost that fascination for pretty girls, have you?” I teased.

“Never.” She assured me with a grin.

“If it helps,” I chuckled, “I have that weakness, too. Old habits do die very hard, don't they?”

“Yes they do, Mother.”

“Then protect your newest love as you have been.” I soberly told her. “Things are going to start getting ugly around here soon, I fear.”

“Wisteria never has been the forgiving kind.” Josephine nodded with a sigh. “And her — stability is fading.”

“I know.” I shook my head sadly. “She is close to becoming a danger for all of us.”

“What do you intend to do about that?”

“I don't know as of yet.” I shrugged. “For now, though, there is chink in her so carefully enforced armor.”

“Kyle, Katie, whoever that one is.” She nodded.

“Yes, Kyle has broken through our Queen's spell once already and is still fighting. I'll know more about that later this evening.”

“A weapon in her own circle.” Josephine nodded. “Do you think it will work?”

“Time will tell, but the Katie persona is flimsy, and Kyle is far stronger minded than Wisteria understands.”

“But will she side with us?”

“She should have been ours to start with.” I shrugged. “And if the Kyle part gains ascendency, she will be looking for allies against Wisteria.”

“Indeed.” Josephine shook her head. “This is a very dangerous game you're playing mother.”

“Our survival, her children and ours, depends on my winning that game.” I answered quietly.

I was waiting at the top of the stairs when she returned to the house. And I knew. Kyle had won for the moment. She hid her fear and uncertainty well and for some odd reason I was very proud of her for that.

“So you did it.” I told her as I glided down the stairs.

She first tried to deny that, then to play the ignorant pawn, but I was having none of that.

“Come.” I gestured at her. “We need to talk.”