The metal of the drink cooler was cold against my back. Reflections of flashing police lights flashed all around me. I laid my head back and closed my eyes for a moment, listening to the rush of police officers out in the parking lot.
I took a drag from my cigarette. I could feel a trickle of blood running down my chest and into my cleavage.
The weight of the .44 magnum Ruger Super Blackhawk was familiar in my hand, but heavier somehow than it had been before. I pulled back the hammer. The click of the cylinders turning seemed loud as thunder.
I risked a glance over the top of the cooler, the glass crunching under my feet as loud as an avalanche.
Only four; I have to hurry.
I took a final drag from my cigarette, then flicked it away, trying to center myself for what I knew was coming.
How did I get here?
That made me smile a little.
How did I get here?

***

My mother was dead for three days before I even knew she was gone. It wasn’t like she was mother of the year or anything, anyway. Whore. Junkie. Dealer. Dead.

My dad? Who knows.

I was sixteen years old when it happened. I wasn’t an innocent. Not by any means. We moved around a lot, so I had few friends. I don’t think I had the capacity to make friends, not then. We were in Tennessee at the time, living in a trailer outside Memphis. I didn’t go to school any more. My Mom didn’t ask and I didn’t tell.

I had always been different. Plain and simple. Since I was a little kid, I’d been different. It really bothered my mother. I didn’t act like other little boys. I didn’t like playing the games with the other boys, didn’t really like trucks, or farm toys. I was more interested in Barbie’s or playing dress up with the little girls in the trailer park. I don’t really remember it well. I just always seemed to know that I didn’t want to grow up to be a man. I wanted to grow up and be a woman. Like my mother. God, how I wish I had striven for more than that.

***

“We know you’re in there. Put down your weapons and come out with your hands up.” The amplified voice from the police cruiser echoed through the shot out windows of the Big Star.
I took a deep breath, the cool air stinging my broken tooth, aggravating my busted lip. I shifted my weight to the balls of my feet, wishing that I’d worn my cowboy boots instead of these damned sandals.
I had to make a break for it soon or this would all be over. All for nothing. I’m not finished yet. I didn’t want to hurt them. I just didn’t have a choice. I still had work to do.

I moved into a crouch, staying low behind the RC Cola cooler. I could just barely see around the edge of the cooler and lights from the police cruiser were blinding. Running around back might be an easier way out but it would be covered too, then I’d be trapped. My car was out there, beyond those cruisers. Freedom was through the fire.

Time seemed to slow down, like it always did, as I rose into a crouch. my weapon swung smoothly up in a two handed grip. Blue lights flashed on the nickel as I acquired my first target.
Line up the front sight. Squeeze the trigger, I thought as the weapon bucked in my hand. Thunder echoed through the store front as the .44 magnum discharged. For a moment, the muzzle flash of the weapon was brighter than the lights of the police cruiser. I didn’t wait to see if the bullet found its target before I dove to the ground, sliding on the biting, cutting glass.

The police opened fire on my position. The popping reports of their .40 cal Glocks sounded like popcorn after the crash of the .44. I slid a few feet on the tile, then rolled up into a crouch to find another target. For a moment I was dazzled, spots in front of the eyes bad, but I quickly found another target and fired. Squeeze, I thought, don’t jerk the trigger. I ducked away as soon as the jarring recoil passed through my arms. Another fusilade of fire from the police. Less this time than before, though. I was sure of it.

I threw myself onto my back to avoid their fire and again felt the bite of the safety glass on my skin. I rolled over and low crawled back to my starting position before popping up. There was no target this time. I scanned for a second, but couldn’t sight any of the police. Yeah, I looked too long, cause then the cops started shooting. A line of pain etched itself across my right shoulder as a .40 caliber hollow point grazed me. It felt like I’d been hit by a burning baseball bat.
I grunted with pain and dropped to the ground. I risked a quick glance at my shoulder, and boy was there a lot of blood, but there was nothing I could do about that right now. So, I pulled my back up pistol from the small of my back. My vision was tightening from adrenaline, and blood loss. My motor skills degraded. Luckily the Glock 18 was hot and ready to roll. I’d always been good at thinking ahead.
I stood up and let a burst of covering fire go with the Glock. I could hear the ringing impacts of the bullets on the cop cars as I sprinted for the doors. The fire from the police didn’t come for a second or so, they were supressed, but I knew it wouldn’t last. I fired off another burst for good measure just before exiting the store.

I had to get out of those spotlights. I couldn’t see for shit, and for the cops it was like shooting fish in a barrel. Fire started following me. Another round grazed my left thigh, which made me stumble and fall. The concrete tore into my shoulder as I tried to roll with it, coming up in a crouch behind a concrete trash container.

I didn’t have time to catch my breath because heavier caliber rounds punched right through the thin concrete. They’d gotten the AR out of the trunk. “Dammnit!” I yelled, as I winced and tried to will myself into becoming a smaller target. A tear ran down my cheek as I moved to the side the cover and hefted the .44 to fire back. The pain was worse than anything I’d ever experienced. I could see a cop behind the rear of the car now using the trunk as cover, steadying his AR15 as he fired at me. I fired. It was a good shot, but the recoil threw my left hand aside and I was unable to follow up. The cop was down, but probably only for a second. The round had gone through the trunk of the car and hit him in the chest where his armor would stop the already degraded energy.

The last cop returned fire now. The fire from one pistol seemed insignificant somehow after the torrent of fire I’d already been through, but one was enough. A hollow point tore through my right calf and dropped me like a bag of rocks. I screamed in pain and anger as I huddled down behind one of those concrete trash cans. For a moment there, I was totally defeated. How fitting that I should die on the ground next to a trash can. And, I have fucking bubble gum in my hair.
The shooting stopped. The Cop was moving forward, pistol at the ready. He thought he had me. He almost did. I raised the Glock with my left hand and fired. I just pulled back the trigger and let the remaining 10 rounds go. The cop danced a tarantella on the pavement before he went down in a heap.

Then it was silent except the ringing in my ears, I didn’t have time to put in hearing protection before it all went south. The pain was excruciating, my calf felt like it was on fire. But I had to go on, there was more work do to. I got to my feet, screaming with pain as I tried to put weight on my right leg. I was moving now, limping across the parking lot. No one was shooting at me. There were sirens in the distance, getting closer by the second.

I opened the car door and threw my pistols on the seat. Screaming in agony, I lifted my right leg up to put it in the car. There was so much blood. So tired. I slammed the door, then rooted around in the open bag on the seat and pulled out a black leather belt. I wrapped the belt around my leg and pulled it as tight as she could, crying out in pain through gritted teeth as I fastened it into a tourniquet.

Keys. Ignition. Drive. The Camaro came to life. I turned on the lights and tore out of the parking lot. I could barely see. My vision was blurring, black fuzz at the corner of my vision. I drove one handed, rumaging through my bag again. There. Got it. I pulled the lollipop out of the bag, struggled for a moment with the plastic, eventually tearing it with my teeth, then thrust it into my mouth.”¨The Fentanyl lollipop worked quickly. A cool wave seemed to run through my body, the pain of my wounds became distant, like they belonged to someone else. I said a quick prayer of thanks that I’d taken the damn things with me this time. I had a hard time keeping drugs like that around, too much of a recreational temptation.

I turned her attention back to the road. I could definitely hear sirens now, so I turned off the main street into a neighborhood. I made a few turns at random then parallel parked on a residential street. It would take them a few minutes to find me here, but knew I didn’t have time to rest. The Fentanyl was cutting out the pain but it was making it hard to think.
I fumbled in the tight pockets of my daisy dukes and pulled out my cell phone. Under the haze of the synthetic morphine it struck me as funny that Hello Kitty had blood on her. My fingers felt huge as I tried to manipulate the touch screen, but I was able to make a call. Ringing.

“Hello.” A voice answered. I could hear tension in the voice. A bit of anger.

“I’m compromised.” I said through gritted teeth. “Wounded. Bad”

“Shit.” The voice said. “Did you get the target?”

“No.” I said, barely suppressing a sob. “No. Need help. Now”

“Ok. Can you get to the safe house?” The voice said calmly.

I laid my head back on the seat and closed my eyes. The cherry of the lollipop thick in my mouth. I wanted to go to sleep. “Yes.” I said finally. The sound of sirens was unmistakable now.
“Good. We’ll have a med team waiting.” The voice said.

I hung up the phone; then threw it into the bag on the floor board of the car. I tossed the .44 into my purse then got out of the car. The weight on my leg caused a ripple of pain to cut through the morphine, but I fought my way through it. I reached in through the open window and grabbed the fishing line clipped to the door, then attached it to the pin of the thermite grenade taped under the seat and limped away from the car, pushing the button on the key fob to roll up the window.

It took me a minute to break into the 2003 Ford F150 and hotwire it. The drugs, and blood loss were making me slow. I drove off slowly, trying to keep calm as the sirens got ever closer.

***
I remember it all clearly. My mother had been gone for a few days on “Business”, which meant she was in the city working on a deal. We’d been clashing a lot lately, so I’d been not at all unhappy for her to be gone. There was plenty of food in the house, that I’d bought, and all my mom’s clothes, which I was wearing all the time. That was the main reason she was mad at me, because I was wearing her clothes. She’d caught me a few weeks ago and had gotten really mad. The black eye was just about gone by then though. Something to remember her by.

I’d been doing it for years at that point, living as a girl for at least four. When I was a little kid, sometimes we’d get girls clothes in the hand me down bags, or the stuff she would steal from the donation boxes around town. I’d always kept some of them, and wore them when mom was away. Sometimes when she was around. When I was little, she just thought it was funny and would put my hair in a pony tail and put some make up on me. I’d prance around in front of her friends. To me it was heaven, to them it was a joke.

I realized when I was about twelve that I would hit puberty soon, and that would change the way I looked. That was something I didn’t want. I didn’t want to be a guy, some skinny ass, gangly white trash-fucker with a big Adam’s apple and a five o’clock shadow. I wanted to be Jessica Simpson (before she got fat), I wanted to be Carrie Underwood. I wanted to be pretty.

I was already kind of tall by then, and knew that soon I would start to change. I stole a cell phone, one of those Android jobs because I knew a guy who could crack it, so I could get on the Internet. I’d heard you could find just about anything on there, and I wanted a solution. I found it a few days later. Birth control pills. Sure, it wasn’t recommended, but it apparently would work. I had to set about finding some, and fast.

That was the problem. My mom didn’t take em, it’s a wonder she didn’t have five more kids, but I suspect morning after pills were liberally used in my household. I didn’t have any money, and my mom kept all her roll stashed well away. My salvation, so to speak, came from a guy named Brent, and a girl named Anna.

Brent was a young guy, tall, kinda goofy looking, with a buck teeth and wide set eyes. I had noticed that he looked at me a lot. Not in the normal way either. He looked at me like he wanted something from me. I wasn’t naive enough to not understand what he wanted. Brent hung around the trailer a lot. He bought weed off my mom, and other stuff, harder stuff.

One afternoon, Brent was at the trailer. I have no idea where my mom was, but she’d left me alone with that slack jawed weirdo. I remember being really nervous as I pulled my long blonde hair up into pigtails and put on some shiny cherry lip gloss. I slipped into a pair of panties I’d stolen from the Dollar General store, and a pair of really tight jeans that I’d cut off into immodest daisy dukes. I put on a faded tee shirt that said “Wildcats Cheerleader” on the front that I’d stolen out of one of the donation bags. The shirt was too small, and really tight, so I tied it up like a halter top, displaying my tanned, tight belly.

I walked right into the living room, looking for all the world like the little white trash princess I knew I really was. The look in Brent’s dull eyes told me everything I needed to know. I asked him for a cigarette, and he gave it to me. He even lit it for me. I could see his hand shaking with anticipation as I leaned in to accept the light. I took a practiced drag, then smiled at him. Hook. Line. Sinker.

I laid out what I wanted from him. It was simple enough. I’m bit ashamed I gave it to him so easy. I wanted a carton of Marboro Silver, and a dime bag of weed. I knew I could trade the dime bag for birth control pills. The cigarettes were for me.

I still remember the slightly sour smell of his pubic hair as I pulled his cock out of his levis. But I fulfilled my side of the bargain and gave him head. I didn’t know what I was doing, but it didn’t seem to matter. The asshole grabbled my head and pushed me down on his cock as he came. It was gross. I gagged and almost ralphed. It tasted bitter and awful. But it was done. I would be lying if I said I didn’t get an erection while I did it.
He lived up to his side of the deal and returned half an hour later with a carton of smokes and a dime bag. Then he slapped me and called me a little slut. But he gave me the goods and despite the bad taste in my mouth, and the stinging of my cheek, I was happy. Like I said before, not an innocent by far.

Anna went to the free clinic and got me three months of birth control pills for the dime bag. She didn’t ask any questions, it was an easy transaction. Putting that first blue pill in my mouth, I knew I’d finally taken a step in the direction I wanted to go. Look out world, here comes Summer!

I kept up the birth control pills for about a year. They were doing their job, but it wasn’t the best solution. The doses were low. They weren’t feminizing me the way I wanted. They were staving off male puberty, and my butt had rounded out nicely, but my breasts weren’t growing at all.

I’d researched on the internet and found a laundry list of do it yourself hormone treatments. Brent, who for a blow had continued our deal on a regular basis, weekly by that point, couldn’t help me with that. Sure, he kept me in cigarettes, and the dime bag of weed I could quickly convert to cash for a shopping trip, but It wasn’t going to get me the hormones that I needed.

Enter, Doctor Fred. My mom made deals all over the place. Once a week, she’d go into Memphis and meet with a doctor in a shabby office building off Union. She took me there a couple of times. I waited in the dirty little waiting room, under the watchful eye of the bitchy receptionist while my mom had her appintment. she’d come out with her lipstick smeared, her purse a little lighter, and we’d leave with a few dozen scrips for oxy. It was one of those times that I noticed the way Dr. Fred looked at me. By this time, I was 5’8” tall, a bit shorter than my mom. I had shining blonde hair that fell down my back, a button nose, a spattering of freckles, and huge blue eyes. I didn’t try dressing like a girl, I wore shorts, and tee shirts mostly. But I didn’t have to try hard. The birth control pills were filling me out like a mostly flat chested 13 year old girl. My mom either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. Dr. Fred liked what he saw. What I wasn’t sure of, was whether he knew I was actually a boy or not. Or whether it mattered.

It took me a few weeks to get a plan together, and to work up the courage to do it. I knew that my neighbors were out of town, down at the lake fishing, or at deer camp, I’m not sure which. They left their car, an old, run down pontiac sunfire, parked out side their trailer. I also knew it was unlocked. I had no idea how to hotwire a car, but I did know how to open the window of a trailer. I had the keys in hand in fifteen minutes and was sitting behind the wheel of the car.
I had driven a few times. Little joy rides here and there in my mom’s car, but the thought of driving into Memphis was scary. But even then, I was a very mission oriented girl. So, I put the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway.
I made it to the parking lot of that shabby little office. No worse for wear, but scared shitless. I didn’t know how to drive, but the fuckers on the Memphis roads didn’t even seem to be as skilled as me. I nervously smoked a cigarette, trying to calm my nerves and steel me for what I had to do.

Nervous is an understatement. I knew I could play Brent. He was easy. He also didn’t want more than a blow job, or if he did, he hadn’t been brave enough to ask. I looked down at my phone, making sure the charge was good. Hoping I’d be able to carry this off, then I got out of the car. I was wearing my super short shorts, I red halter top I’d stolen from my moms drawer, and a pair of four inch wedge sandals I’d bought with my weekly “allowance” from Brent. My hair was pulled into a red headband, and a new pair of red dangly earrings hung from the still sore holes in my ear lobed. I made one last check in the mirror, then started walking for the building.

It was close to five o’clock. I knew the office would be closing soon, just like I’d planned. I waited out in the hallway, looking for all the world like a trashy 13 year old girl, wearing too much make up, and clothes that were way too old for her. The bitchy receptionist exited the office first. I turned my back to her, hoping she wouldn’t recognize me as I smoked a cigarette in the hallway by the elevator. Dr. Fred came out of hte office a few seconds later. I dropped the cigarette in the sand filled ashtray and rushed over towards him, my heels clacking loudly on the grubby tile.

Just like with Brent, I knew I had him as soon as I saw the look in his eyes.

“Dr. Fred. Can I talk to you?” I said, my voice a little rough with fear. I could feel my knees shaking.

“Summer?” He looked around. “Where is your mother?””¨I shrugged. “I dunno. I need to talk to you.” I said, my voice a little surer.

He looked at me for a long moment. I could see the battle going on behind his eyes. He licked his lips. “Sure. Come on in.” He opened the door, then looked both ways down the hall to be sure no one saw.
I smiled, then walked inside. The office looked even more shabby with only sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting horizontal lines across the cheap couch and even cheaper artwork hanging on the wall.
“Come on back to my office.” He said, locking the door behind him. He led me back through the reception area and down a short hallway, past the exam room, to a crowded, messy office. There was a nice desk, with pictures of his family on it, an overstuffed leather couch, and a lot of paper. A nice laptop sat on the desk. The room smelled faintly of cigar smoke, and I noticed a ionizing air purifier in the corner. “What can I do for you?” He said, perching on the side of the desk. “Is everything ok?”

I set my purse down on the couch, then laid my phone on top of it, angled towards the doctor. I hoped that I pressed the record button, but couldn’t look down to check. “I need you to write me a prescription.” I said, as calmly as I could.
He smiled. “A prescription?” He said, indulgently. “What sort of prescription?”

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the rumpled, folded paper I had printed with the regimen of hormones I wanted. I looked down at my pink painted nails and noticed that my hand was shaking as I handed the paper to him.
He looked it over, then looked up at me. He had a puzzled look on his face. I smiled weakly at him.

“These are female hormones, and testosterone blockers.” He said flatly. “What do you need these fo....” He trailed off. I could see the light go on behind his eyes. He looked me up and down. “I can’t prescribe these meds to you, Summer.”
I swallowed hard, then stood up. With the heels I was a bit taller than him. I walked over towards him, putting on the most pitiful, pouty face I could. “I need them Doctor. I need to be a girl.” I said quietly.

He was tensed up, like a man waiting to be struck. I fought the urge to smile, then put my hands on his shoulders. “I can make it worth your while.” I whispered, then looked into his eyes. It was the first time I’d seen that look. Lust. Guilt. Shame. It wouldn’t be the last.

I could feel the fight come out of his shoulders, the tension release under my hands, then he kissed me. It was a rough kiss. His stubble was scratchy. His breath worse than mine. I had him now.”¨I won’t pretend it was romantic. I wont pretend it was pleasant. But, Doctor Fred took my cherry right there over the desk. I cried out in pain as he thrust into me, pushing my hard little cock against the hard wood of the desk edge. I also won’t lie and say I didn’t cum.
Afterwards. Sore. Tired. Degraded. I pulled up my panties and shorts, then sat down on the couch. I lit a cigarette with shaking hands. Doctor Fred didn’t say a word. He walked behind the desk and started writing. I couldn’t help but smile.
I put the phone back in my purse and waited for him to finish. He handed me the handful of scrips, but didn’t let go. I leaned in and kissed him, then he released them.”¨“Come back next month for more.” He said, matter of factly. I nodded. “Go ahead and leave, I’m going to straighten up in here.”

I smiled then quickly left, hearing the door to the office lock behind me as I hurried down the hallway. I could feel something seeping out of my very sore ass as I got on the elevator. But I had them. I had the prescription.
The drive home was worse. It was dark. It was scary. I put a huge dent in the front fender as I bounced off a parked car. But, I made it and put the car back in front of the neighbors house. I snuck back inside and put the keys back where I’d found them. I was back in my room and nobody was the wiser. Once I got in my room, I watched the video of Doctor Fred plowing me on the desk. It was a bit sexy watching me there, crying out as he thrust into me roughly again and again. His rough treatment left me very sore, and I’m sure I walked funny for about a week after our first encounter. But I had the evidence. I had him by the balls.

Brent picked up the presctiptions for me. It just took a little sweet talking to add it to our deal. The new hormones were great. They worked much better than the birth control pills. Brent, the dummy, had no idea what he was picking up for me.

The changes didn’t start right away, but when they did they were very noticable. I started female puberty with a vengeance. I was almost fourteen then. Eighth grade was almost over and I was no longer able to hide the changes that were coming over me. To be fair, a lot of people at my school thought I was a girl anyway. I never said different, and I sure looked the part.

But it got out that I was male, and everyone in school found out about it in a couple of days. The last few weeks of school were hell. I sported new injuries every day. Split lip, black eye. A cut on my eyebrow that would scar. A guy on the school bus, egged on by a few of his cronies, made me give him head, all the while whispering what a faggot I was in my ear while he pushed down and made me gag on his cock.

I was supposed to start high school the next year, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to. I hated them all. I didn’t want anything to do with it.

I kept going to see Doctor Fred. I figured out a better way to get into town, catching a ride with Brent. He’d take me for a blow job, then wait around for me. Sometimes he’d take me to get ice cream.
With Doctor Fred it was the same every time. Go in. Fuck. Get prescription. leave. Simple. I also have to say that the sex got better after the first time. Fred, the old pervert, knew what he was doing. Yeah, I was so starved for attention and human contact that I actually started enjoying our visits. I upped the ante on him and gave him a blow for an Oxy prescription. He went along with it, just another stroke of the pen for him. The Oxy would bring me good money. I might even be able to buy a cheap car.

I do have to give old Fred a little credit. After the first few months, he had started doing bloodwork on me, and referred me to an endocrinologist friend to have me checked out. Good thing too, because the levels of hormones, and androgen blockers I was on would have been pretty damaging in the long term. My liver had been damaged a bit, but luckily, youth won out on that one and it healed after my hormones were controlled.
Brent would take me to the Walgreens and pick up the prescriptions. Then, we would go buy ice cream, or get a burger, then head back home. I really don’t think Brent knew what the prescriptions were for. I do know that he appreciated my budding breasts, which had grown into an A cup.

Right before I was supposed to go back to school, things blew up with Mom. She must have been having a lucid day, because she looked at me and realized that somehow her 14 year old son had morphed into a 14 year old daughter, complete with breasts and growing hips. It was quite a throw down.

Long story short. I got beat up. Mom hit Brent in the head with a bat, sending him to the hospital. Mom stormed away.

After that, she grudgingly accepted me as her daughter. Thanks to my name being the most androgynous ever, Sandy Summer Day, there was no name change to worry about. Summer was a girl’s name. I don’t know what she was thinking when she named me. Yeah I do. She was blown on Oxy after having me in the back bedroom of a duplex in Birmingham Alabama that didn’t even belong to her. She wasn’t thinking at all.

Here’s where I’m lucky. I started transitioning really young. I was twelve when I took my first wobbly steps towards womanhood. I started basically living as a girl then. I started hormones, and medical transition so early that I never went through male puberty (thank God for that). I passed then, I pass now. It’s my own big mouth that has gotten me in most of the trouble in my life.

I enrolled myself in another school. I saw on TV when you had to register and went down there myself, in the cheap ass Honda I’d bought with the money I made off the oxy prescriptions Dr. Fred wrote me. I could forge my mother’s signature as well as my own so I signed all the papers I downloaded off the internet. I carefully smudged the writing on my birth certificate so the M was really faint, hoping they wouldn’t notice. They didn’t, or didn’t say anything anyway. I was in. Summer was just a new girl in the freshman class.

I actually liked school. The classes anyway. I made a few friends, sort of. More associates, or acquaintances really. But I hung around with a few girls at school. I sold them weed, or the occasional pill. I never touched the stuff myself. Well, I’d smoke weed occasionally with Brent, but never the hard stuff. I parked my car a few blocks from school and walked the rest of the way. didn’t have a license or anything and didn’t want to get caught driving on school property.
I got expelled midway through my 10th grade year. This bitch named Lori Worth, worthless is more like it, had a hate on for me since I’d shown up at school. Don’t know why really. She was a bit chunky, but had a cute face. She was also a grade A bitch. She burst in on me in the bathroom and noticed that I had additional equipment. A fight ensued. She had a busted nose. I had my walking papers from school.

I lazed around the house for the rest of the year. My mom had no idea I’d been expelled. She was really fucked up most of the time, and when she wasn’t, I made myself scarce. It was a life.

When I found out my mother had been killed, I didn’t know what to feel. Brent had come over to the house to give me the bad news. I cried a little bit, then rode Brent hard on the sofa. It was the only time I ever fucked him. It was a going away present, I guess, a way to deal with grief.

After Brent left, I laid on the couch and finally had a good cry. My mother was gone. Shot dead in a hotel parking lot in Memphis. I would never see her again. I was alone. I laid there in the dark and smoked a whole pack of cigarettes, washing it down with a bottle of Jack Daniels my mother had kept in the cabinet over the sink for when “guests” would come over.

I didn’t wake up until the next evening. I felt like shit, and looked like it, too. I had to make a plan. It would only take a little while for social services to track me down, then who knows what would have happened. That evening, I sat on the swing in the yard and watched storm clouds roil overhead, creating a plan. Plotting my next move.

I tore the trailer apart until I found it. My mom’s roll. $25,000 dollars. Guaranteed not hers. Probably what got her killed. My inheritance. The money, all small bills, went into a pink gym bag with a cartoon rabbit on it, followed by all my mothers jewelry, 100 Oxy pills and a large pistol I found in her lingerie drawer. Then I started packing, shoving all the clothes I could into a number of suit cases. It took me three trips to get the car loaded. I took one look back at the trailer where I’d spent the last few years, wondering strangely, if I would one day look back on this place fondly. As the place where it all started.

“Probably not.” I said out loud, then flicked my cigarette into the open door. The gasoline I’d sloshed all over the living room ignited with a loud whoosh. I watched it burn for a couple of minutes before I climbed in the old Honda and drove away.

***
I woke up. I didn’t now where I was and I was totally about to panic. I couldn’t remember how I’d gotten here or why it felt like my leg was on fire. A beeping sound echoed in the small room, growing faster as I looked around. Something was tangled on my arm. It was an IV. The beep is a heart monitor. Hospital.

No. Not a hospital. The tiny room was dark. And swaying. Boat. Safe. I laid her head back on the pillow. A previously unnoticed pain in my shoulder announced itself with a vengeance. I whimpered softly, then shut my eyes. Think.
It started coming back. Blown mission. Cops. Shootout. But I still had no idea where I was or how I’d gotten there. I clinched my eyes shut tighter, pinching away the tears that where forming. I began to whisper, “Avé Mará­a, grá¡tia pléna, Dá³minus técum. Benedá­cta tu in muliéribus, et benedá­ctus fráºctus véntris táºi, Iésus...”

The door opened, cutting me off. A man stooped down into the cabin. I could only see the silhouette of him against the night beyond the hatch, but I recognized his hulking form. “Father.” I said. The tears, which I’d held back began to flow, rushing over my eyelids. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

He sat down next to the bed, then put his hand over mine. His hand was calloused. Strong. “Shhhh.” He said. Then put his rosary to his lips and kissed it. He made the sign of the cross over me, then held out the rosary for me to kiss.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. Lord you know all things. You know that I love you. My last confession was three days ago. I have stolen. I thought indecent thoughts. I killed at least one innocent man and...” I choked up, clenching me eyes shut to try and stop the flow of tears. “...at least wounded three others. I committed impure acts. and....” I gulped, then opened her eyes and looked at him. “I suffered a vampire to live.” A sob broke over my whole body. Father O’Shea took my hand and held it tightly. “I am sorry for these and all my sins.” I sobbed through the act of contrition, then looked into the priest’s eyes.

He whispered my penance. Always the same. Go forth and return the dead to their grave.

“God the father of mercies, though death and resurrection of his Son, has brought forgiveness of sin in the world. Through the ministry of the church, I grant you pardon and absolution for your sin in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” He placed leaned in and kissed me on the forehead.

“I’m so sorry.” she said. “I almost had him. And Vic...” I burst into tears, unable to contain the sorrow that was bubbling up inside me. Sobs wracked my whole body, causing intense, unbearable pain in all my wounds.
“Shhh. I know dear. I know.” He turned and adjusted something on the IV hanger. “Sleep now. You need to rest.”

I drifted off to sleep, comforted by his strong firm hand as he watched over me.

***

”¨I left the trailer and drove into Memphis. I was 16 now, but didn’t have a driver’s license. I’ve still never had one of those, not a real one anyway. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do, not at that point anyway, but I had plenty of cash, drugs and jewelry to sell. I had a big breakfast at the Waffle House on the edge of town. Ummm, waffles.

It was fall in Memphis. Not cold enough to wear a coat, but verging on too cold for shorts. I still remember the smell of that morning, the way the sun looked as it shone through the clouds. It was, in a way, like being born anew.

I didn’t know Memphis very well. To be honest, I’d only really seen the seediest parts of town. So, I picked up a Memphis Flyer and started trying to find a place to live. In my sixteen year old brain, I’d figured it would be easy. It wasn’t. No one wanted to rent to a kid. If I put my make-up and dressed up, I could pass for 17, maybe 18 on a good day, but without any ID, getting a legit apartment was a nonstarter.

So, I got a room in an extended stay hotel. It was nice enough, much nicer than the trailers I’d grown up in, and they took cash. Once I had my stuff stashed in the room, I was able to go through all the clothes and figure out what I had. My mom’s clothes were nice. A bit trashy, but hey better than what I was used to.

The pistol was something of a mystery. I’d never seen it before, but it didn’t look new. It was a Ruger Super Blackhawk, .44 magnum. Wooden grips. Nickel Plate. Very nice gun, but heavy as all get out. At the time, I could hardly imagine firing such a weapon and couldn’t conceive of anything it couldn’t put down. God, I was naive.

I laid around the hotel for a few days, laying low I suppose, before I got antsy. There was a whole city out there to explore and I wanted to see it all. It was weird being the new girl in town. I didn’t know anyone, and no one knew me. There was the slim chance of running into someone I’d known in my past life, but that was a long way from my mind at the time. What was on my mind was that I had a clean slate, a tabula rosa. I was a woman here, not a guy, not a transexual. A woman. Or so I thought. The fact that I looked the part, and thought the part, got me into trouble with people if they found out the truth, and was too stupid to know better.

I shopped. I ate at restaurants. I went to see movies. It was nice. Normal, almost. But I did find that now, that I was free, something was missing. It took a while before I figured out what that was. It was purpose.
I was also lonely. Loneliness and lack of purpose do not combine well. Doubly so in my case.

Two weeks before my 17th birthday, I got my first Tattoo, a spray of stars on my left shoulder. I hit it off with the guy from the tattoo shop, he didn’t know I was underage, much less a transexual. Naive, I guess. I got a brutal beating when he found out from a supposed friend who I’d told my story to. It was weeks before all the bruises faded. Plus I couldn’t show my face around there any more.

Unfortunately for me, I decided to self medicate for the pain with some of the Oxy and got myself a pretty harsh habit. It started a spiral that blew through all of my money and put me into some bad situations for the next year. I honestly don’t know what happened for most of my 17th year. Some things stick out, like the tops of skyscrapers in a foggy city. My first real date. Learning to hot wire a car. Stripping at an underground night club. Helping rob a pharmacy. Like I said. Bad year.

It was a couple of weeks after my 18th birthday that I had, what they call in recovery circles, a moment of clarity. I was fucking up, and fucking up bad. I needed to break my addiction to pain killers and do something with my life. I had woken up on the floor of a shabby squat. My ass was sore from being abused by at least two, maybe more, of the guys sprawled around the room. I was hungry. I was tired. I was burning out. I knew at that moment that if I didn’t leave, I was going to die in a place like this. Just another fucked up junkie. A statistic.

So, I did what I had to. I got up. Got dressed. Stole everything I could fit in my purse and snuck out of there. I Made a call to the only person I knew I could trust. Simple old Brent.

I called him from a pay phone. I’d lost my cell phone at some point. Couldn’t afford to pay for it anymore anyway. He picked me up and took me to his trailer. I have to give it to him, he didn’t even ask for sex. I guess he was more decent than I thought.

Brent did what I asked. He tied me to the bed and took care of me while I detoxed. It was awful. I thought I was going to die right there staring at his stupid Nascar memorabilia. But I didn’t. I made it. I came back. It was funny. My mind was clear for the first time in so long. It was strange.

I took a long shower and felt like I was washing away the last year. I stayed in there a long time, till the hot water ran out. Then got out and took a look at myself in the mirror. I was terribly skinny, down to 95 lbs. I know that doesn’t sound light, but I’m five feet ten inches tall. Skinny, with a capital fucking S. My breasts, which had come in to a very large A, had faded to almost nothing. My hair looked brittle. My face was so thin. I looked awful. Both arms were covered in full sleeve tattoos now. Most of them were good, though some would need to be covered. Thank God I didn’t get any tattoos on my face one fucked up night.

It took a month for me to get myself back into a semblance of health. Brent was great, letting me stay at his place. I still owe him for that.

***
”¨I woke with a start. I looked around the room, surprised that I was no longer on the boat. I was in a room that looked, for all the world like a real hospital room. Clean white walls. Hospital bed. IV rig. No television though, just a crucifix on the wall. Not a hospital. I was at the Monastery. I didn’t hurt as bad as she had the day I’d woken up on the boat, but there was still a dull, throbbing, ache in my shoulder. My leg just itched like crazy. I would have killed for a pain killer, but knew that wouldn’t end well. I remembered the fantastic touch of the Fentynol from the lollipop, longing for it again. Instead, I closed my eyes and tried to clear my mind. I was stronger than that now.

My eyes popped open as the door opened. My body tensed, ready to move, which sent hot flashes of pain through my wounded limbs. I winced.

“Whoa, Summer. It’s ok.” The man said as he walked into the room. He was wearing blue scrubs and carrying a clip board. “I’m Doctor Black. I’ve been taking care of you.””¨He stopped at the foot of her bed and looked her over. “Good to see you awake.”

I tried a smile, but it felt brittle. Strained. “Thanks, doc. Good to be awake.”

“Thanks be to God.” He said with a smile, then moved to my bedside. “I’m gonna check your dressings.”

I studied him as he looked her over. Good looking guy. Probably a monk. Too bad. “So what’s the verdict?” I said quietly.

“Well, the bullet in your calf went through and through. But, it did a lot of damage to the muscle. The one in the shoulder was a five five six. Lucky for you, it didn’t hit bone. Clean entry and exit. But once again, bad muscle damage. You’ll be out of bandages soon enough, but it’s going to take months of physical therapy to get you back in the field. Sorry.” He said with a small smile as he checked my vitals.

“Ugggg. “ I said, closing my eyes tight. “I hate being in the hospital.”

Doctor Black laughed. “Who doesn’t.” He made a note in my record. “Well, see you this afternoon. IF you feel any discomfort that you can’t handle, call for a nurse.”

“Thanks, doc.” I said quietly. Then I was alone.

I looked over at the bedside table. There was a pitcher of water, with a glass poured for her, and an unopened electronic cigarette. I smiled and made a mental note to thank Father O’Shea next time I saw him.

The Doc was right. It took months for me to be given a clean bill of health and to be put back into operation. And it was a shitty three months, let me tell you. Besides the relentless physical therapy, physical training, and range time, I had to deal with the isolation of the monastery.

I am a bit of a freak. Not because I’m transgendered, the only ones who knew that were the Doctors and the Father, but because of who I am. I’m a tattooed, redneck party girl. In a monastery. Nuff said. The men of the Ordo Lux Aeterna just didn’t know how to deal with me. No one was ever mean to me, not to my face anyway, but they kept me at arms length. Treated me with respect. Like a weapon. Dangerous in every possible way.

I was sitting on a bench by the lake, trying to cool off after a run but the Louisiana afternoon was not cooperating. Father O’Shea quietly walked up behind me. I smiled at the water and took a drag off my cigarette.
“Heard you coming a mile off Father. You’re slipping.” I said, not taking her eyes off the lake.

He laughed. “Yes. Carrying a bit more bulk than I used to. Harder to move silently.” He sat down next to me on the bench. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. Physically. Mentally? Spiritually? All fucked up.” I said bluntly.

“I know.” He said softly. “It is hard to be a soldier in the service of the Church Militant, Summer. I know.”

I turned and looked at him. The look on his face told her everything. He did know. These were not platitudes heaped on her by someone who had never “seen the elephant”. Father O’Shea had been in this very place.
“How do I get through it?” I said after a long moment. “I loved him.” I whispered.

He shrugged. “Pray. Meditate. Pray for Vic’s soul. But, never forget the sacrifice of the men, the police, who thought they were doing good works. Pray that they may be in heaven and understanding of your duty. “ He paused, then looked into her eyes. “Serve.”

I looked back at the water, then took a final drag from my cigarette before flicking it in the lake. I took a deep breath and nodded. “Ok. So does this mean I’m cleared for service.?”

He looked at her for a few seconds then nodded his head. “Yes. It does. Briefing is at 1700. Confession and Eucharist following.”

I nodded again, then turned my gaze back to the water, trying to lose myself in the sunlight on the water.

At five o’clock on the dot, I walked into the briefing room. It was a small chapel, a holy place for a holy mission. I was wearing black yoga pants, a black tee shirt, and trainers. No need to dress up for this church service. I took a seat on the front pew and waited for the briefing to begin.

The briefers were all monks, save Father O’Shea. They took their seats on the opposite pew to await their turn. Father O’Shea walked to the front of the dais. “In Nomine patre, et fili, et spiritus sancti.” He said, crossing himself, as did everyone else, including me. He gave an invocation, but I wasn’t listening. I always sort of blanked out before a briefing.”¨The briefing lasted almost an hour. There was a lot of data. Pictures. Handouts. Powerpoint (bleh). But the gist of it was simple. A Vampire, Uri Andreov, was in New Orleans. The Vampire I’d been hunting in Memphis. And the Ordo knew where he was. The rest of the team was in place, surveilling, gathering intel. Waiting on me. Waiting for the last member of the team to get in place before things got loud.

I did confession. Impure thoughts and deeds. Hell, I’ve been cooped up here, what else was there to do?.

I took the Eucharist then headed back to my cell to get packed and change for her trip. I put on a pair of daisy dukes, a bright red halter top that really showed my assets, and a pair of 4 inch cork heel wedges. I fixed my hair and put on my make-up, topping it off with ruby red lipstick to match my top. I was back.

I’d just gotten up to put the last of my belongings in the bag when there was a knock at the door. “Enter.” I called out.

The door opened. A young monk, Brother Thomas, was standing at the threshold of my room. He didn’t seem to want to enter. A woman in a monastery was a strange thing indeed.
“Can I help you, Brother?” I said, looking over my shoulder. I couldn’t help but throw in a little butt wiggle. Let him confess some impure thoughts later.

“Umm. Yes. Here are the keys to your car. Your case is in the trunk. And here is your phone and your identity.” He held out the manilla envelope, still not entering the room.
I walked over and took it from him with a smile. “Thanks, Brother. God be with you.”

He blushed. “And with you.” then he turned and walked hurriedly down the corridor.

I smiled as I took inventory of the envelope. Louisiana Driver’s license. Community college ID. Various reward and business cards. I was now Zoya Polachev, 24, student at Delgado community college. Cool, she thought, I get to be a year younger and a Russian college girl to boot.

I stopped in my tracks when I saw the car. I was grinning like a little girl on Christmas morning as I walked up to that car. It was a 1968 Dodge Charger. A huge beast of flat black paint and shining chrome. I’ve always been a bit of a motorhead. I ran my finger down the side of the car as I walked around to the trunk. The car looked like a shadow lurking in the light of the setting sun.

I opened the trunk. My case was already loaded, a black Pelican carbine length rifle case. A new one, since the old one had burned up in the Camaro. I tossed my bag in the car, and opened the case. There was a LWRS M6.8 UCIW short barreled carbine. I picked it up and tested the heft. It was light, unloaded and without the optics or any accessories mounted. And short. The overall length was only 27 inches long with the stock collapsed. I popped the Magpul UBR stock out and held it to my shoulder. It felt good, just like it had on the range. Except this time I’m not shooting at targets.

I set down the rifle and examined the Litton 4th gen NVGs, the Eotech holographic sight, the ANPEQ-15 compact laser sight. Then placed them all back into their foam cutouts. There were also 6 fully loaded hot pink Magpul P-mags. I picked up one of the brand new pink plastic magazines and had to smile. At least someone has a sense of humor around here.

I closed the trunk and walked around to the driver’s side, slipped into the black leather bucket seat and slammed the door. I glanced at herself in the mirror, then flicked the pine tree hanging from the mirror for luck before starting the car and putting it in gear. I pulled a CD out of the bag and slipped it into the player then started down the gravel road. Nashville Pussy blared out of the speakers as I squealed rubber and tore out of the driveway.

***

I was finally feeling like myself again. Brent had been great. He’d let me live with him for a whole month, and for that I would be forever grateful. A plan had begun to form, well re-emerge. I wanted breast implants. And I knew how I was going to get them. I borrowed Brent’s car and headed into Memphis, back to a familiar, seedy, doctor’s office. Time to see Doctor Fred.

I walked into the building. It felt strange coming back here after so long. I had started getting my Hormones and Androgen blockers elsewhere in the last year, so I hadn’t needed the prescriptions from Dr. Fred. I took the elevator up and marched right into his office. The Receptionist, the bitchy old lady, was still there. Older and bitchier looking than before. She didn’t recognize me, which didn’t surprise me at all.

“I need to see Fred.” I said, leaning against the counter.

“Do you have an appointment?” She said, frowning at me.

“No. But tell him it’s an old friend.” I said, smiling at her.

She got up and walked back to Dr. Fred’s door. A minute or so later, he walked out into the lobby. He didn’t recognize me at first, that much was certain. But I saw the realization of who I was wash over him. “Summer?” He said, almost choking on the words.

“Hiya Fred.” I said, then walked towards him. “I need to talk to you.”

He looked around, confused. Then nodded. “Hold my calls.” He said to the receptionist, then gestured for me to follow. “You look good. Grown up.” He said with a smile as he closed the office door behind us.

“Thanks.” I said, then sat down on the couch. I lit a cigarette, not bothering to ask if it was ok.

“Ummm. I don’t let people smoke in here any more. I quit.” He said, trying to sound apologetic.

“Sorry.” I said, but made no move to putting it out. “You are going to do me a favor.””¨I said.

“I am?” He said, leaning back in his chair. “What sort of favor? Prescriptions? “

I shook my head. “Breast implants. Good ones.”

He laughed. “Honey, that’s a whole lot of money. And, you were good...But not that good. That will cost at least ten grand for a really good set. Sorry, but No.”

I nodded, then flicked ashes on his carpet. “Ok. Guess I take the videos to the cops then.” I stood up. “Enjoy prison, Fred.” I picked up my purse and started to leave.

“Wait. What are you talking about? Videos?” He said, standing up, hands planted on his desk.

I turned back to face him, then dropped a burner phone on his desk. I gestured for him to pick it up. “Not my best cinematic accomplishment, but I think it captures the whole thing pretty well.” I said as he pushed play. I watched his face drop as our first negotiation played for him. “I was thirteen there Fred. Look at the date stamp.” I watched his face drop. “ You were my first you know? You popped my cherry that day.” I said flatly.

He looked up at me, seeming on the verge of tears. “Ok.” he said softly.

“Keep the phone. There’s about fifteen videos on there. You can wack off to them, or whatever. The phone’s stolen, so don’t get caught with it.” I slung my purse, then dropped my cigarette and ground it out on the carpet. “I have those stored in several places on line. If something happens to me...” I said, not needing to finish. “I’ll be in touch.” I left Fred there with his head in his hands, the sound of our first coupling playing softly.

Fred ,despite being a crooked piece of shit, kept his word. One week later I was checked into a very nice, discreet facility where they put in my implants. I decided on D implants and after a bit of waffling decided on a more rounded rather than natural look. Stripper tits. I will say that in clothes, they look more like a C, needless to say they matched my frame pretty well. I recovered in an apartment Fred rented for me a few miles from the clinic, in case I needed anything.
Once I was recovered, I thought the new breasts looked great. They went with my “look”. I’d hated how flat chested I was, but I’d been genetically disadvantaged there.

I was not in the best shape back then. I didn’t exercise, just depended on metabolism, and lets face it, drugs to keep me thin. I was skinny, probably too skinny, so it was ok with me. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I couldn’t run. I couldn’t lift half my body weight. I was a mess. But, armed with new tits, I was ready to take on the world.

My new endowments served me well. I got a job. Yep, my first real job. I was a cocktail waitress at a biker bar. I did well, got good tips. All in all a pretty good gig. Til I fucked up and let slip that I was transgendered. Then things went south. Luckily they didn’t fuck up my new breast implants. I did get a broken arm, three cracked ribs, a broken nose and a cracked cheekbone out of the deal. I was also raped by at least three different men that I remember anyway. I passed out from the pain while the third was still getting off. I woke up in the hospital two days later.

While I laid in the hospital, I made a vow that I was going to learn how to fight so this wouldn’t happen to me again. I had been used as a punching bag more times in my life than I care to remember. I wanted that to change.
As soon as I was able, which was about nine weeks later, I started trying to get into some semblance of shape. It was a task. I was super weak. It was embarrassing. But I stuck with it. I started light weight training and cardio. Running sucks! I felt awful and sore, but every time I thought of what they’d done to me, it spurred me on.

Then I started taking Kali. The classes were held in a run down old gym in a warehouse district down by the interstate. The place looked shabby, but the instructor really knew what he was doing. He worked the dogshit out of you, and expected you to give it your all each and every class. I threw myself completely into learning everything I could about Kali, and conditioning. That was also where I met Vic.

I noticed him as soon as I walked into my fourth class. He was in his late twenties, but in fantastic shape. Not in the hulking physique sort of way, but lean and tight. Strong looking. He had a cool tattoo on his right shoulder. Military looking ink. I found out later it was a Ranger tattoo. 75th Ranger Regiment. I think I fell in love with him the first time I looked into those icy blue eyes.

After class I was sitting on the loading dock of the warehouse next door smoking a cigarette. Yeah, I didn’t ditch all my bad habits. I was drenched in sweat, sore all over, and tired to the bone. I’m sure I looked like hammered shit. I sure felt like it.
“Smoking is bad for you.” I heard someone say. It as a deep voice with an air of command to it, but there was something else. A touch of humor. I looked up into those icy blue eyes. I smiled despite myself.

“Yeah. What isn’t.” I said, giving him a little grin.

He lit his own cigarette and gestured as if to ask if the seat was taken. I shrugged. He sat down next to me and stared up at the salmon glow of the clouds. “My name’s VIc. You’re Summer right?” He said, offering his hand.

I took his hand. It was strong, and sort of rough. Working mans hands. “Nice to meet you Vic.” I said softly.

“You’re pretty good. How long you been studying?” He said around his cigarette.

“This is my fourth class.” I said, stretching, working the kinks out of my back. “And it is whipping my ass.”

He laughed. I liked the sound of it instantly. “Really? God, I thought you’d been at it for months. You’re a natural.”

“You are just flattering me.” I said, bumping him with my shoulder

“No. You’ve got talent. What are you doing after this?” He said.

“Hurting. Then taking a shower.” I said, then took a last drag off my cigarette and flicked it across the parking lot. “Why?”

“Well, I was hoping you would go out for a beer with me.” He said.

I looked at him for a long moment. “I’d like that.” I felt giddy. Like a school girl. I hoped I didn’t look as nervous as I was. I touched my hair. “I look awful, and sure I don’t smell much better.”

“Fuck em. You earned that sweat.” He said, holding his hand out to help me up.

***

I slowed down as I turned into the warehouse complex. I put my right hand on the grip of the .44 Blackhawk in my lap as I scanned my surroundings. A lot of the lights were out, which fit with the team’s Standard Operating Procedure. I could feel eyes on me as the Charger crept forward. I pulled up in front of a set of roll up doors and killed the engine. It was quiet. In the distance I could hear a train rumble by. Dogs barked. The city lived on. I opened the door and got out. I’d taken the bulb out of the dome light so it didn’t blind me, or silhoette me every time I opened the door. I heard gravel, and glass crunch under the heel of my wedges.

“Hey Summer.” I looked up and saw the silhouette of man on the roof.

“Howdy Will. Miss me?” I said, grinning up at him. I lit a cigarette, took a long drag then tilted my head back and slowly exhaled. “You gonna let me in or what?”

Will laughed. I heard him mumble something into his radio, then the roll up door started. I got back into the charger and the engine roared into life. I pulled forward into the huge warehouse. There were four other vehicles parked in its cavernous interior. Two suburbans, a jeep, and a Mercedes M class. I pulled the muscle car in next to the Mercedes and killed the engine. I glanced in her mirror to ensure the door was coming down.

“Well, aint you a sight for sore eyes.” I heard as I got out of the car. Charlie, the team lead was walking across the warehouse towards me. I couldn’t help but smile as he took me into a hug. He was the last person I’d spoken to the night I’d gotten shot. The night everything went wrong.

“Thanks honey.” I said, giving him one final squeeze, and a kiss on the cheek. “Glad to be back.” I looked around. Brian, Luther, Martin and Shane were all coming out of the living area into the warehouse now. There were several hoots and hollars, and soon I was taken up into a flurry of hugs and well wishes.

“Shane, get her bags and her gear.” Charlie said, gesturing towards the trunk. “Summer, come on in. Saved something for you.”

I slung my purse over my shoulder and followed. The living area was the old warehouse offices. There was a large reception area, which had been made into a sort of briefing and day room, along with several offices which were now serving as living quarters.

Charlie walked over to an ancient metal desk and produced a sealed bottle of Southern Comfort. He grabbed a sleeve of red solo cups and laid seven of them on the table upright. He then took two more and laid them upside down next to the others. He opened the bottle and poured a measure in each one. The rest of the team filed into the room. Shane put her bags in one of the offices,then came to join the crew.

Charlie handed out the cups, then held his up in a toast. “To Summer. Glad to have you back.” He said, then downed his in one gulp. The rest of them did the same, followed by some grimacing and laughing.
“Did you heat that shit up before you served it, Charlie?” Martin asked, shaking his head.

“Pussy. It’s Louisiana. Deal with it.” Charlie said, then poured another measure for each one of them. “To brothers who couldn’t be here.” He said, then tapped his glass against the two upside down on the table.”¨I felt hot tears welling up. Vic. I tapped one of the glasses. Once of those is Vic. I downed the drink fast, then loudly set the glass on the table.”¨“Thanks guys.” I said, forcing myself to smile.

“Right. Martin, for being a smart ass, you go relieve Will.” Charlie said, then ignored the obscene gesture Martin threw his way. “The rest of you, gather round. We are going to go over everything up to this point for Summer. We are on the clock here.”

I grabbed my cigarettes and lighter out of my purse and dropped them on the table. I let the purse fall next to her chair, then sat down and waited for Charlie to get started. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to get my mind right. Back on business. Off of Vic.

The briefing lasted for a while. I didn’t check my watch, but I did smoked five cigarettes and drink two more good sized shots of Southern Comfort. Most of it had been covered by the briefers back at the Monastery, but some of it was new intel they’d developed earlier in the evening.

“So boys and girls. Here we are. Uri is in town. Word on the street is, he’ll only be in town for another week. If we are going to hit him, it’s going to have to be quick. Summer.” He said, looking right into my eyes. “We need an in. I’m thinking honey trap.”

I smiled. “Do you think we have time?” A honey trap is where and operative, usually female, lures a man into revealing secrets or even flipping sides through amorous contact.

Charlie shrugged. “Not a full scale honey trap, not. But I think you can get into the club he’s holed up in a lot easier than any of us. Try to get the layout, get yourself into areas you aren’t suposed to see. If you can get someone with loose lips to spill some juicy intel, go for it. But mainly this is a sneak and peek. Don’t engage.” Charlie sounded tired. They all did.

“Ok. I’m game.” I said. “What time does this place start bumping?”

“Real crowds tend to show after two,” He said while he looked at his watch. “That means you’ve got about an hour and a half to get ready."

I stretched, holding my arms high above my head. “No rest for the wicked.”

“All you’ve been doing is resting, Summer. Shit.” Luther said, chuckling.

If looks could kill there would be another upturned glass on the table. “Getting shot is not very restful, man.” I said. I continued the mean look until Luther stuck his tongue out at me. That man always makes me laugh.

“Ok. Guys, Me, Shane and Luther will be doing overwatch for Summer. Response teams set up no more than two blocks away. I’ll be here, Martin is on watch. Will and Brian. Beddy by. You have 6 AM guard duty. Let’s shag it folks.” Charlie said standing up. The jaw jacking was now over.

I walked into my room and hefted my bag on the bed. There was a small bathroom, with the smallest shower I have ever seen outside a trailer.

The club Uri was supposedly hiding out in was a high end meat market. Not my usual scene, but luckily, I could clean up well if I needed to. I picked a simple, classic look. LBD and black fuck me pumps. The patent pumps had a four inch heel and looked killer. They also cost half as much as my first car. After putting on some pretty, black lingerie, I put on the dress and headed into the bathroom to do my hair. I pulled my hair up into a swept updo, but kept it slightly messy and edgy, like a girl out for a party. I went light on the make-up, but made my eyes dramatic cat’s eyes that really popped. The stylish dress, with the full sleeve tattoos made me look edgy, but not trashy. Great illusion, I thought a I smiled at my own joke. With one last check on my gaff, ensuring the extra bit was secured, I walked out into the bedroom.

I slung my purse and headed out into the warehouse. Charlie and Luther were sitting on one of the worktables waiting on me. Luther wolf whistled, to which I politely flipped him off. “Alright, boys. Ready for a night on the town.” I said, striking a dramatic pose.

“Good. Take the Mercedes.” Charlie said tossing me the keys. “Are you strapped?”

I shook my head. “Unarmed. Can’t take the chance.” I said as I walked towards the Mercedes, my heels clacking loudly on the concrete.

Charlie frowned, then nodded. “They are bound to search you.” He said. “There’s a pistol under the seat, A Glock 18. It’s loaded and ready to roll.”

I opened the door and climbed inside, adjusting the seats, and checking the Glock. I pulled out the mag, glanced at it, then slammed it back home. Then I checked my hair in the mirror, and looked back to Charlie. “I got this. Wish me luck.” I wish I’d felt as confident as I sounded.

Charlie squeezed her shoulder. “Good luck.” He said, then closed the door. “Your support team will not be more than a block away. You got the duress signal?”

I nodded, then placed the car in drive. The roll up door came up and I drove out into the night.

***

Vic took me to a bar in Midtown. The place wasn’t very crowded, but we decided to sit out on the patio so I could smoke. Vic ordered us a couple of beers and the waitress didn’t card me. Happy day. I didn’t want to let on how young I was yet. I was only 18 at the time.

“So you just got started with Kali? It’s hard to believe.” Vic said, leaning one the table on his elbows.

I raised an eyebrow. “Why’s that?” I said, mirroring his posture.

He shrugged. “You’re good. I mean that. You’ve got grace, good body awareness. You’re catching on to the rhythm of the art. Bet you’re a good dancer too.”

I laughed. “I really don’t know. Never been much of a dancer.” I said, lying a little bit.

“Well. No matter. If you keep it up, you’ll be kick ass in no time.” Vic said just as our beers arrived.

I pulled out a cigarette and was digging in my purse for my lighter when Vic leaned over the table and offered me a light. I leaned in and put my hand on his to steady it. His hand was warm. Strong feeling. “Thanks.” I said then blew a stream of smoke up towards the clouds. “How long have you been doing Kali? You seem to know what you are doing.”

He smiled. “Kali? Five years. Before that, a bit of Kempo. Really just the stuff they taught us in the Army. Combatives.” He lit a cigarette of his own then leaned back in his chair. I could feel his eyes on me. I wanted to look away. I could feel the blush rising in my cheeks.

“Cool.” I said as I rounded the cherry of my cigarette on the black plastic ashtray. “You were army?”

He nodded. “Yep. Ten years.” He didn’t elaborate. Not a big bragger I guess.

“Go anywhere good?” I asked, grinning at him. God, he made me feel like a school girl.

“Sure. Lots of shit places too.” He said with a chuckle. “So, how bout you? Tell me about yourself, Miss Summer.”

I laughed. He was deflecting any talk of him. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was good tradecraft. Don’t give too much away about yourself while pumping a potential source, or asset for information. “Not much to tell.” I said, then took a drag off my cigarette. I was smoking as sexily as I knew how. snap inhales, French inhales. Posing. It did seem to be getting his attention. “I was born in Alabama. We moved around a lot. Just plain ol white trash in the big city.” I said, exaggerating my already prominent southern drawl.

“I don’t think you’re white trash and there is nothing plain about you, Summer.” Vic said in all seriousness.

“You don’t know me very well.” I said quietly. I stubbed out my cigarette and took a drink of my beer.

He smiled. “But I’d like to.”

I felt like I was going to melt. I was very attracted to Vic. He was tall, handsome, very charming. But I was a bit scared too, ready for rejection, ready for the pain I’d felt so often when I told people the truth. Despite that, I’d rather feel the pain of rejection than endure another beating because I wasn’t entirely forthcoming with my situation. I looked down at my lap and absently pushed the hair behind my ear. I looked up and my eyes met his. He looked disappointed.
“Oh.” He said. “You aren’t interested and I must sound like a complete shlubb.”

I shook my head. “No. That’s not it. I’m just afraid you...” I started, then stopped. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him. My stomach was turning. I felt sick, knowing that as soon as those words came out of my mouth, he would be gone.

“Afraid I what?” He said, sounding really confused.

I lit another cigarette, buying myself some time. This was hard. I hadn’t done this in a long time, and never clean and drug free. “Afraid that after you know me. You won’t be interested anymore. Not that I’d blame you.” I said finally. My voice was quavering, my leg shaking in nervous energy.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean?” He said. His blue eyes looked hurt. Confused.

I leaned forward, praying that he didn’t blurt out what I was about to say to him. Praying that he would take the news well. I didn’t need the pain. “I’m...” I said softly. “I’m a transexual.” I have to give it to him. He didn’t blurt it out. He just stared at me for a long while. The tension made me want to scream, but I didn’t know how to react.

Finally, he said. “Really?”

That was it. No anger. No rage. No name calling. Not yet, I thought.

“Yes. Really. I transitioned when I was twelve.” I said, then took another drag from my cigarette. Still prepared for the outburst I knew was sure to come.

“Huh.” He said, then caught the waitress who was walking by and ordered two more beers.

I was stunned. I didn’t know what to say so I just sat there smoking my cigarette, deafened by the silence. The waitress came back and dropped off our beers. Vic picked his up and took a long pull.

“Ok.” He said.

I didn’t know what to say. I was speechless.

“So.” He said quietly. “Full sex change transgendered, or ...”

I could feel he was searching for the word. “non operative?” I said, nodding.

He looked at me for a long moment. “I would have never guessed.” He said shaking his head.

I relaxed a little bit. Even if I’d lost him for good, at least he wasn’t yelling at me, or beating me up for it. “Yeah. I started so young. I was lucky I guess.” Yeah right. Lucky.

We talked for a long time that night. I don’t remember everything we talked about, but he opened up to me too. Turns out he was Special Forces after he left the Rangers. He did five tours between Iraq and Afghanistan, The Stan as he called it. He told me he’d gotten out and worked for a Private Military Company, but was in between contracts right now. I told him mostly the truth. Mostly. Turns out, he told me mostly the truth too.

It’s funny. It was him that had the bigger secret.

We didn’t go to bed together that night. But he kissed me good night, and not a brotherly kiss either. It was like my first kiss. I swear my foot actually popped up, just like in the movies.

***

There was a line around the block at the club. I drove by once to check it out before parking half a block away on the street. The crowd was young. Ready to party. Sheep. Lambs to the slaughter.
I took a long drag off my cigarette, then got out of the car. I ground out the cigarette under the toe of my shoe, then started across the street.

Put on the strut. Own it. I walked right past the line, ignoring the jeers from people who had been waiting for an hour or more to get inside. The bouncer looked over at me, taking in my very long legs, bountiful cleavage and confident expression.

“Sorry, you have to wait in line like the...” He started, his Russian Accent thick.

“Cut the bullshit.” I said in Russian, careful to keep my voice soft and low. “Let me in.” Sometimes its all about confidence.

He was taken aback for a second by the sound of his native tongue. Then he smiled and pulled the velvet rope aside. “Have fun inside.” He said in Russian. I could hear the people who had been waiting in line grumbling, and saying some very unpleasant things about me. Fuck em. Not getting in this place might save their lives.

The club was loud, hot and crowded. I made my way through the throng of people, ignoring the men who immediately started trying to come on to me. They weren’t the target. I scanned the crowd as I walked towards the bar. I spent a lot of time doing surveillance in the last few years. I’d learned how to watch without drawing attention to myself, unless drawing attention was the point. Like it was tonite.

I strutted up to the bar and ordered a Martini, laying on the thick Russian accent. The bartender smiled at me lasciviously as he set the drink down. I gave him a coy smile before turning around to study the club’s patrons. It was still “early” I supposed, and the real players weren’t here yet, or if they were, I wasn’t seeing them.

A honey trap is a simple operation, really. You send in a hot girl, or guy depending on the proclivity of the target. The honey trap pulls them in and through sexual, and emotional manipulation, gets the target to either flip over to their side. In this case, the honey trap is all about recon. Get the lay of the land, find out who the players are,get the fuck out. I knew exactly how the worm on the hook felt as I stood there in my micro mini dress and fuck me heels.
I was feeling that old nervousness now. The waiting nervousness. Too much time to think nervousness.

Crowds take on a life of their own. If you pay attention to the way a crowd moves, the way it behaves, it becomes like a single organism. The crowd in this club was frenetic, anxious. Everyone seemed to be waiting on something. It wasn’t the first time I’d encountered such a crowd. Any place with vampires milling about felt similar. Somewhere deep in our brain there is a switch that is flipped by their mere presence, a “Hey dipshit, there is a real fucking predator here. Be worried.” Unfortunately, we have “evolved” to the point where we don’t listen to our instincts any more, we just chalk it up to nerves and go on about our business.

I also got the strong feeling that this wasn’t the real party. The crowd size outside didn’t match the crowd inside. That door in the back of the club with two heavies guarding it was the real party. Now I just had to get noticed and asked to come in the back room. Time to dance.

I made my way out onto the dance floor and started to move. I let the music move me, talk to my body. I had learned how to dance , how to really dance, when I was 17. I’’d spent at least a couple of months working at an illegal, full nude gay strip joint, until the place got busted and closed down. An older woman, who’d worked strip clubs all up and down the east coast, taught me the ropes. I could do erotic dance, and pole work. As little as I remembered of that year, at least I still remembered how to dance. Thank God for muscle memory, huh.

The dancing worked. After a couple of songs I could see the guards were paying attention. I made sure to give them a couple of lustful glances to ensure their interest. When the song ended, I smiled and sauntered back to the bar. I ordered a water, it was hot in the club. I stood at the bar, hydrating, hoping that I’d just earned myself an invitation to the real party.

I kept a sidelong watch on the guards at the back door. A tall man in an expensive looking gray suit was talking to the larger guard, then looking in my direction. I put down my water bottle and lit a cigarette. I looked down to put away my lighter, and when I looked up, gray suit was standing right in front of me. I gave him a cool look, not changing my expression and took a long, cheek hollowing drag.

“How are you this evening?” He asked, then extended a hand. “My name is Augusti. You are?” He said. His accent was Eastern European, but I hadn’t heard enough to pin down a country.

I took his hand. His hand was warm and quite dry, despite the heat in the club. “Zoya. Nice to meet you.” I said in Russian.

His eyebrows went up, surprised. “Sorry, my Russian isn’t very good, and you just about exhausted it with that. Unless you want to use some very coarse language that I might understand, could you speak English?” He said, flashing me a very practiced smile.

I laughed. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Nice to meet you.” I smiled at him. The smile was genuine. He was charming. I had to remind myself that this guy was, more than likely, a complete piece of shit.

“There is private VIP room in the back. Where the real party happens.” He said, still smiling. “We were hoping you would join us.”

I looked at him for a second, then shrugged. “Alright.” I looked around the club. “Not much happening in here anyway.”

“Good. If you would follow me.” He said, gesturing for me to follow. I grabbed my cigarettes off the bar, dropped a tip for the bartender and followed Augusti.

The door was locked from the inside. Magnetics. I didn’t see a peep hole, so I figured there had to be a camera around here somewhere. I took a drag off her cigarette and blew the smoke upwards, using the gesture as an excuse to check out the ceiling. There was a small, black dome extending down from the ceiling. Bingo.

The magnets on the door disengaged and I followed Victor inside. The “VIP Room” was almost as big as the club itself. It was well appointed, if not a little gaudy. Eastern Europeans rarely had the best taste. But the party back here was far more interesting than the club outside. There were people dancing, but it seemed that most of the people were more engaged watching a fetish performance by a a trio of women in leather and latex.

A shiver went down my spine. I knew that feeling. There was a vampire nearby. I glanced around the room, taking it in, trying to act casual, but still didn’t spot the vampire.

“The bar is right over here.” He said, handing me a card. “Drinks are, as they say in America, on the house.”

I took the card and smiled at him. “How do you make any money, if the drinks are free?”

Augusti laughed. “Don’t worry about that, Miss Zoya.” He looked me up and down one last time, then bowed slightly and excused himself.

I used the card to get a free drink, a Cosmopolitan this time. Strange. I could feel the vampire’s presence, but couldn’t see him. It was then that my attention was drawn to the fetish performers. More specifically, to her.

I walked over to an empty table and sat down, never taking her eyes off the performers. They were all very attractive women. Two of them were pale with black hair, both dressed in tight black PVC. The third stood out. Tall and blonde skin so pale it seemed to glow under the spotlights. She was wearing a white, leather corset, white opera length gloves, and white, thigh high boots. It was hard for me to take her eyes off her, and I almost never have that reaction to women. The woman looked up and scanned the crowd. Our eyes met, and I felt like I was becoming lost in her gaze. The woman’s bright red lips twisted into a wry grin before she returned to administering exquisite torture to one of the black haired subs at her feet.

I looked down at the table, having to tear my eyes of the woman. I quickly lit a cigarette, hoping that the nicotine would calm my nerves. Not a chance. Shit. I’ve been made. I hadn’t expected to actually put eyes on a vampire, and I was not ready to go hot right now. Not in a crowded place like this. This was supposed to be a recon mission. No contact. Shit. And who the hell was this Chick anyway? Uri was the target, there was no mention of this blonde.
“Hello.” I heard someone say. It was a woman’s voice, but slightly deep, not unlike Mine. Accent sounded Romanian. Shit. I jumped, startled by the voice. I could feel my face flush. The vampire’s nostrils flared slightly as the blood rushed to my cheeks. Not a good sign. “I’m Ivanna.”

My voice was trapped in her throat. “Hi.” I croaked, then took a drink of my cosmo. “I mean, Hello. I’m Zoya.” I said, the Russian accent flowing naturally. This was a powerful vampire. I could feel her presence and it was stunning. The two raven haired subs standing just behind her. They looked like twins, though I wasn’t sure if they actually were or not. They were both styled like modern day Betty Paiges.

Ivanna glanced at the Betty on her right, who handed her a cigarette holder with a cigarette already fitted at its tip. The other Betty produced a lighter and lit it for her. She was showing off. God was she sexy. Itook a drag off her cigarette, using the exhale as an excuse to look away for a moment. “I have never seen you here before.” Her voice quiet, but still perfectly audible over the music.

“I have not been here before.” I said, shrugging. “Very nice.” I was anxious and wanted to get the hell out of here. Like now.

Ivanna leaned forward, her eyes locked on me, and a slow smile began to spread across her face. “You are....Not what you seem.” Her nostrils flared slightly. She was taking in my scent. “Interesting.”

“ What?” I felt panic course up her spine. I took another drag off her cigarette, nervous and fast. I was seriously losing my cool. The fight or flight adrenaline was starting to rev through me now. That reptile brain reaction to the beautiful creature across the table from me.

“Come.” Ivanna said, standing up. She held out a gloved hand for me and I took it without even thinking. Ivanna led me towards another door that had a sign reading “Private” posted on it. The two Betty’s fell in step behind us, smiling broadly. Iwas starting to panic, my stomach twisting. This was not supposed to happen. This mission had gone totally sideways.

I reached in my purse and pulled out my phone, an iPhone burner I’d been given as part of my cover. Ivanna looked at me, eyebrows raised, but didn’t ask a question, or snatch it from my hand like she’d feared would happen. “I need to text my friend Haley and tell her I’m going to be...Late.” I said with a little smile, trying not to make eye contact. Ivanna smiled back at me. Now, I was just confused. I’d thought IVanna had twigged onto me as a hunter, but now that didn’t feel right. I sent a quick text to Haley, the name in my phone that was actually Charlie.”¨Summer: I’m running behind. Made a new friend. :) xxx”¨As we were walking through the door, I got a reply. “K. Have fun. xxx”. Sometimes codes don’t have to be difficult, they just have to be innocuous. There were a lot of texts to and from “Haley” in the phone, all mundane, some silly. If anyone read the texts, there would be nothing out of the ordinary. The code was simple. If there was duress, I sent a text saying I was running behind. The xxx meant no shit vampire. The xxx reply, meant Charlie understood and help would be coming. The have fun meant just the opposite, that help was on the way. Unfortunately, I was in the back room of the back room and it was going to be a bitch to find me fast.

The back room of the back room was more of a boudoir. I took a quick glance around the dimly lit room. Large bed, overstuffed couch, several benches geared towards BDSM play that looked more like torture devices than furniture. I gulped, trying to keep my expression neutral. The door closed behind me with a loud thump and the sound of the music was completely muffled. Sound proof.

“So.” Ivanna said, gracefully sitting down on the edge of the bed. The two Betty’s didn’t follow their mistress, instead they stood just behind me, between me and the door is more like it. “You are a man.” The vampire said. “A very beautiful man, but a more beautiful woman.”

I gulped. “How...How did you know that?” I said, not letting on that I knew anything was out of the ordinary. She could smell it, the slight difference in physiology that even years of female hormones couldn’t hide. The look of fear on my face, on the other hand, was not feigned. This vampire was powerful to sense that even through the other smells in the club.

“Nothing to be scared of dear.” She said, sounding for all the world like a wolf talking to a sheep. “I just want to play with you, that’s all.”

I swallowed hard. My mouth felt thick. Play with me, I thought, she doesn’t know that I’m a hunter. “Oh.” I said, a weak smile forming on mylips, trying to hide the panic I felt.
Ivanna laughed. “ We are going to have a lot of fun tonite.” she said, her voice smooth, intoxicating. The Betty’s both laughed. It didn’t make me feel any better.

I decided to stall by pulling out a cigarette. While I was looking for her lighter, one of the Betty’s produced a lighter and lit it for me. I looked over at her and gave her wan smile. My fear was just feeding them, egging them on. I swallowed hard then walked over to sit next to Ivanna where she was patting the bed with a white opera gloved hand.

***”¨I was absolutely giddy after my first date with Vic. He was between contracts at the moment, though I wasn’t really sure what that meant at the time, so he had a lot of free time. We spent a lot of that time together. It was funny. I had never connected with someone like that before. We got each other.

It wasn’t one of those hop right into bed sort of deals either, not at all. After that first night, we met up the next afternoon and went to a park. We sat in the sun and talked. Then we took a walk around a little pond and looked at ducks. It was nothing like I’d ever done before. I was actually worried that he didn’t like me because he wasn’t trying to get in my pants.

I initiated the second kiss for us that afternoon in the park. I just leaned in and kissed him, and he kissed me back, taking me in his strong arms. It was great. After we kissed, he took my hand and led me to a park bench where we sat down and made out for a little while. I was SUPER horny, and actually had a reaction downstairs, if you know what I mean, and it was very uncomfortable in my Daisy Dukes and gaff.

We went and had dinner together, just sandwiches, nothing special. But it was awesome. It was weird. He was in no hurry to get me into bed. That was confusing to me, and my 19 year old brain. It was all I was thinking about.
After dinner, we went to see a local band play. They were pretty good, but the part I liked the best was sitting close to vic and feeling his arms around me while we listened. It just felt right. At the end of the evening, he took me home.
“You want to come in for a few?” I asked , hoping he’d say yes.

He thought about it for a second, then smiled. “Not tonite.” He said softly. He immediately noticed my pouty look and raised his hand in a stop gesture. “There’s nothing wrong with you, or anything like that. I just...” He stopped, gathering his thoughts, “I don’t want to rush into something that might turn into a bad situation, that’s all.”

I looked at him, sort of confused. “Huh?”

He laughed. God I loved his laugh. “Look. I’m almost thirty. You are Nineteen. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t want you to do something you regret. So, I want to go slow. Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.” He said with a grin.

I’d never heard that expression before and it made no sense to me then. “But.” I started to protest.

He shook his head and leaned in and gave me a very passionate kiss, which sure as fuck shut me up. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at three to go to the gym.” He said, then kissed me on my forehead. “Night night.”
I nodded, unable to wipe the very stupid grin off my face, then got out of the car and went into the apartment.

The next day, he picked me up and we went and worked out. He was a great trainer, but he worked me like a dog. By the time we were done, I was so exhausted, I wanted to go home and sleep. But he was having none of that. Instead, we went to the Kali studio and practiced for a couple of hours. I was past exhaustion when he took me home.

That established a pattern. We worked out together and practiced Kali. We went out on dates, which was just weird to me since I’d never been in any sort of normal relationship, and we enjoyed one another’s company. But I have to admit, I was so ready for him to jump my bones I could hardly stand it.

After two weeks of dating, and boy does it seem weird but strangely normal to say that, I managed to get into his pants. God, that makes me sound like a sexual predator or something, but I wanted him bad. Bad!

We had gone out for dinner, then to see a movie. The movie was good, but I was more interested in him than watching the film. He put his arm around me and I laid my head on his shoulder. After a few minutes of that, I couldn’t help myself and started kissing his neck. He took the cue and leaned in and kissed me. It was on!

I reached over and ran my hand up his leg and he didn’t stop me. When I got to his groin, I could feel the hardness forming there and he didn’t stop me. While we kissed, I slipped my hand down his pants and I was not at all disappointed at what he was packing, though I wanted more than we could get away with in a movie theater, even on a Wednesday night.

Apparently, Vic had decided that he’d given the slow thing enough time because he asked me back to his place after the movie. A big step.

His apartment was nice, if a little spartan. He had modern furniture, a nice big TV, and new appliances, but it didn’t look lived in. It was freakishly neat, but I wasn’t paying any attention to that as we immediately started making out like crazy as soon as the door was closed behind us.

I dropped to my knees, kissing his rock hard belly on the way down, before taking his now throbbing cock out of his jeans. It was big, and thick, and yummy. I took it into my mouth, and with a practiced motion, took it in all the way to the base. He liked my sword swallowing trick and immediately tensed and moaned. I’m a very good, and well practiced, former professional mind you, cock sucker.

After a few minutes, he stood me up and kissed me again, the stubble on his face rough against my skin. Then, very sweetly, he led me into the bed room. I had to chuckle because he didn’t button his pants and just let them sort of hang around his knees.

“I’ve never...” He started, “been with a girl like you before. You know...” he said between kisses.

I nodded, breaking our kiss for a minute. “Treat me like any other girl.”

We stripped out of our clothes, well I kept on my gaff for now. He stared at me a bit incredulously. “What?” I said as I took off my bra.

“I can’t tell at all. I mean, down there. No..” He started.

“Bulge? Yeah, it’s tucked and I’m wearing a gaff.” I said, not even bothering to explain any further. “I can leave them on if it makes it easier.”

He thought for a second then shook his head. “No. I want to be with you. No artifice.”

I smiled, then helped him out of his shirt. His chest and abs were really toned, buff, but he wasn’t a huge pumped up guy though. I ran my hand over his chest and could feel him tense under my touch. I ran my fingers over a scar on his chest, then looked up at him. I guess he could sense the question in my face.

“I took a bullet there in Afghanistan.” He said, then he kissed me cutting off the conversation. I felt his hands take hold of my gaff and begin pulling it off. I moaned as my cock, which was almost hard now, was released from my gaff. He looked at it for a second, like he couldn’t actually believe it was there, then back up to my face. I don’t have a small cock, though it has shrank a bit after years of hormones, and right now it was about as rigid as it gets. He smiled, then took me into his arms and kissed me.

He made love to me. I had been fucked before, lots of times, more than I can count actually, but I had never made love. It was different. It was life changing. I’m not going to go into the details of that night, but it cinched it. I was in love. Head over heels in love.

****

I sat down on the bed next to Ivanna. my heart was pounding and I felt almost... giddy. The fear of sitting next to the vampire, coupled with the unnatural desire I felt for the creature, made it hard to think. It must be something in her scent, her pheromones or something. Ivanna reached up and stroked my neck. I flinched a little bit at the touch of the satin gloved hand as it sent shivers down my spine,which made the vampire smile.

“Such a pretty thing.” Ivanna said softly. “Amazing what they can do these days.”

I blushed. I wanted to run, to fight, but my body wouldn’t respond. I was locked by Ivanna’s gaze, entranced by the feeling of the saitin on my neck. I moaned, unable to contain the feeling of pleasure that was welling up inside me from the vampire’s touch alone. I was in trouble.

“Why don’t you get comfortable?” Ivanna said, her eyes locked with mine, draining all my will. I tried to fight it, but it was no good. She had me. I was under her control.

I nodded, then slipped the spaghetti straps of my little black dress off and let the dress slide down, exposing my breasts. Ivanna looked down at my chest, breaking the power she held over me for a moment. My head cleared. I looked at the two Betty’s, who were standing nearby, grinning at me, looks of anticipation on their faces.
I had to get away, or I was done. I stood up, but Ivanna took hold of my arm. It wasn’t a tight grip, but I knew there was no way I could get out of it.

“Good,” Ivanna said. “Take the dress off.” The power Ivanna held over me was too much, even without eye contact. I obediently let the dress slide past my hips and pool on the floor at her feet.
I was transfixed. Unable to move. Ivanna reached out and pulled down my gaff. My cock, which was now harder than it had been in years, popped out. I was barely aware of how bad it was hurting, all tucked back in my gaff, until it was free. The Vampire’s presence was causing a physical reaction by my body that I had never experienced. I was rock hard. I’d heard about such things, but had never experienced it until now.

“And you are not a small one, are you?” Ivanna said, then grinned up at me. The grin made me swoon a little bit. Ivanna reached out took hold of my shaft, lifting it up to inspect it. She ran her hand across the smooth skin at the base of my cock, which made me shiver with pleasure. “Where are your testes?”

“Had them removed.” I said. My voice was slurred. Thick. Like I was drunk, or drugged. “A few years ago so I didn’t have to take testosterone blockers any more.”

The vampire leaned in towards me and ran her tongue up the shaft of my cock like she was licking a lolipop. Ivanna’s tongue was cool, almost cold against my skin. The touch of her tongue made fireworks go off behind my closed eyelids. I felt like I was going to faint. “Girls. I’m sure you want a taste.” Ivanna said. Then the two Betty’s strutted over and dropped to their knees in front of me. They took turns licking my cock, taking it deeply into their mouths in turn. I moaned loudly, teetering on my heels, my eyes locked on Ivanna’s, unable to tear them away. All thoughts of rescue, all thoughts of danger were gone as I stared into her eyes. She looked away from me, towards one of the Betty’s and once again, the spell was broken.

I have to get away, I thought, though my body cried out for me to stay. The pleasure was so intense, it was like I’d been drugged. It was almost overwhelming.”¨Ivanna stood up. Both Betty’s stopped their ministrations to attend to their mistress. They pulled down Ivanna’s panties. She was completely smooth shaven, her pussy was pale pink against the perfect white of her skin. One of the Betty’s stood and walked over to a shelf. She retrieved a huge strap on dildo, ten inches long, and as thick as a coke can, then turned and walked back to her mistress. Holy shit! That thing is fucking huge! The other Betty resumed giving me head, expertly taking my cock all the way down her throat and never gagging once.

“I have my own cock.” Ivanna said, her voice low and ominous. “I am sure you will enjoy it, no?” The Betty strapped the cock on her, then started giving it head, struggling to take as much of the huge phallus in her mouth as she could. While she got her mistress ready, the other Betty moved behind me and started rimming me. The feeling of her hot tongue slipping deep in my ass made me almost cry out with pleasure, I had always been a sucker for having my ass eaten. Despite my best efforts, I locked eyes with Ivanna again and I was back under her spell.

The Betty laid me down on the bed, my eyes never leaving Ivanna’s, then continued rimming me. I closed my eyes, taken by the pleasure of it all, but couldn’t break free of Ivanna’s control. I was becoming lost in it all, unable to remember why I was here. Unable to react to the danger I was in. While my eyes were closed, the Betty must have gotten out a tube of lube, because my eyes popped open as she stuck two fingers into my ass. It felt heavenly and I’ll admit it ,I moaned and writhed against it. It had been a long time since I’d been fucked, and that coupled with the crazy vampire pheromones Ivanna was putting out, it was driving me crazy. She put in a third finger, then a fourth. I looked down, just as she made a wedge with all her fingers and thumb and worked it inside me. I writhed against it as she inserted her fist inside me. It hurt a little, but I was crazy with lust, wanton beyond anything I’d ever felt. “It’s time.” the Betty said. It was the first time she’d heard either of them speak. Then she pulled out her hand and licked all around my sphincter.

Ivanna moved over to me. I felt so empty without the Betty’s hand inside me. I wanted her giant cock inside me. She placed the tip of the huge dildo against my sphincter, took hold of both of my legs at the knees, holding them up. “This is going to be fun, little girl.” The Vampire said. She began to push. Gently at first. I could feel the huge dildo pushing into me. It was much larger than the Betty’s hand. I cried out as it pushed through my sphincter, stretching me out. Even with all the lube and saliva the Betty had used, it hurt bad enough to cut through the concupiscient haze the vampire emmitted. I tried to scoot away from the intruder, but she held me fast. I screamed as I felt the huge dildo bottom out against my ass cheeks. If felt like I was splitting in half, and all she’d done was stick in inside me.

Then, she started fucking me. It hurt like a mother fucker, I’m not going to lie. But as she started ramming my ass like there was no tomorrow, rewarded with an ear shattering scream from me each time she did, she leaned in and kissed me on my screaming mouth. Her kiss was cold, like she’d had a piece of ice in her mouth, but her saliva was intoxicating. THe pain all went away, and all I could feel was the pleasure. It was like morphine and ecstacy combined. Then she began kissing down my neck while I screamed with euphoric abandon, grinding myself against the giant dildo.

A small part of my mind, a part that wasn’t touched by the vampire’s unholy arousal, screamed out for me to stop. She was about to bite me. My body didn’t listen, it was on auto pilot now, welcoming the giant intruder. Time seemed to slow down as I felt her cold lips and tongue against my hot neck. I felt her teeth pierce my flesh. I orgasmed then. I could feel hot ropes of cum spray out of my engorged cock, the feeling spreading through my whole body. I was doomed and my body was cooperating with the enemy.

I could hear the Betty’s laughing at my duress, at the weakness of my body as it succumbed to their mistresses’ wanton abuse. Then, there was an ear shattering explosion. It cut through the vampire’s influence just enough and the feeling of overwhelming pain came rushing back. I screamed.

Then I felt Ivanna let go of my legs and pull out. I sprawled on the bed there for a couple of seconds as further explosions shattered the relative silence of the room. It seemed like an eternity to my pain addled mind, but by the time I opened my eyes, I could see Shane entering the room. My ears were still ringing from the breaching charge, and the flash bangs he’d thrown in first. It was like I was viewing everything through clear, silent water. No sound except the rush of blood through my ears. He came in smooth and quick, cutting the pie as they call it, then he engaged, pumping round after round into Ivanna. She had pulled out of me at the sound of the first explosion, and been stunned by the flash bang. I rolled off the bed just as Luther came into the room, adding to the volume of fire they were putting on the vampire.

I hit the ground hard, but managed to get up on one knee. I could see one of the Betty’s rushing towards the rear of the room, so I lunged at her. I was naked except for my stilletto heels, blood running down my legs where she’d violated the hell out of me, and down my neck where she’d bit me, but I was not going to let that little cunt Betty get her hand on a gun. I tackled her. Not a lot of finesse in that move, but it was the only thing I could do.

The Betty rolled over and met me ferociously. She knee’d and scratched, keening like a trapped beast. But I was stronger than her, and a bit heavier, so I kept her pinned. I squirmed with her until I could get her pinned, then it was just ground and pound. I straddled her chest and started mercilessly driving my fists into her face. I must have gotten in at least ten good punches before the other Betty slammed her fetish booted foot into the back of my head.
I rolled off the first on and got shakily onto my feet just in time to get charged. My mind was clearing now and I was able to work from more than just muscle memory. I moved in to her attack, deflecting her arms while driving my knee into her stomach. Then I began pounding her on her face and neck, all the while moving out of her line of attack. She lunged again and I caught her arm, twisting it around so hard I could feel the pops of it separating at the joint. She cried out just before I punched her as hard as I could in the neck. She dropped like she’d been pole axed.

The other Betty was getting up now, and I turned just as she moved in for the attack. She was hurt bad, and her attacks were clumsy. Obviously untrained, just rage. I deflected them easily, then moved in, spun her around into a head lock. Then it was just application of pressure until you feel it snap. It didn’t take long before her skinny ass was sliding lifelessly to the floor.

I had been so wrapped up in my fight, I had lost track of the real battle raging behind us. The boys had done good. They had pumped round after round into Ivanna, backing her away from them. Neither got close enough for her to lunge at them without her catching several rounds of silvered, 6.5mm rounds for her trouble. She wailed like a cornered beast, the giant pink dildo on its harness flailing. I rolled across the bed and snatched my purse off the ground, coming up behind Luther and Shane.

“Get the hell out of here, Summer.” Shane yelled. I didn’t bother to answer, I just started legging it out of the room.

Charlie was next to the door, covering their backs. His eyes went wide when he saw the state I was in, but he just nodded towards the emergency exit door, which was hanging wide open across the body strewn dance floor.

I ran as fast as I could towards the door. Running in four inch stiletto heels is not easy at the best of times, and hard as hell across a blood spattered dance floor. I snagged a coat off the ground that someone had dropped, pausing for a second to throw it on. Shane and Luther came out of the room now, still firing. I could tell by the way they were moving that they had just thrown grenades into the room. I was rewarded with a bright flash from the Private room’s doorway as ran into the alley and out of the club.

I ran as fast as I could, down the alley and into the street. It was chaos. There were people running around, screaming. Sirens were approaching fast. I moved through the crowd as quickly as I could, then threw myself into the Mercedes. Thank God for keyless entry.

In seconds, the car was started and I was moving. I rarely have problems while the action is happening. No time for that sort of thought. But afterwards is when it starts. The thinking. The second guessing. I felt horrible. I hurt almost everywhere. The feeling of the blood trickling down my neck a reminder of how close I’d come to death.

I lit a cigarette to try to clear my head, and to give me something to think about other than the degradation the vampire had just heaped upon me. I could feel my cum, crusty on my belly. I was embarrassed that the rest of the team had caught me like that. I wished they’d arrived a few seconds earlier. I drove.

I have a resilient mind. It is required in our business. The Priests told me that. Well, the priest that told me that was a psychologist as well as a priest. He explained that this resilient mind kept me from just shutting down, from feeling the effects of things the same as most people. It meant I could go on when everything was so fucked up that other people would just throw an out to lunch sign in the window and check out. People with minds like mine, like the rest of my team’s, don’t get PTSD. We don’t lock up when we encounter a vampire. We don’t give up if we get raped. We push through it. We come back. Reslilient. LIke rubber.

Now, that being said, it did affect me. If what I felt was resilient, I don’t want to know what “normal” people felt like after shit like this happened. Cause I felt horrible.

I pulled up to the warehouse and flashed my lights. The door opened and I drove inside. As soon as the motor shut off, I started crying. Not little tears, but body shaking, convulsing, screaming out loud crying. I was still in that state when the car door opened. I didn’t even react as Brian, who was supposed to be asleep right now by the way, pulled me out of the car. He spoke to me, but I have no idea what he said, put his arm around me and walked me into my room. He helped me out of my clothes, and my shoes, and into the shower.

I stayed in there for a long time. Thank God Charlie had put a tankless hot water heater on that shower. I sat down on the floor of the shower for a while, letting the hot water just run over me. My ass hurt so bad it made me wince to sit down. I might need stitches, I thought, gingerly touching my blown out O ring. But, eventually, I stood up and washed. Then I washed my hair, getting the blood and who knows what out of it.

I dried off and threw on a robe. There was a knock at the door. “Yeah.” I said. My voice was hoarse. It hurt like the devil to talk. I guess all that screaming had done a number on me.

Charlie came in. He looked at me, and I could see the sympathy in his eyes, but his face never changed. “We need to have Will take a look at you.” He said, as Will came into the room carrying his medic bag. I nodded and took a seat on the bed as Will gloved up. I looked at Charlie with pleading eyes. He understood why I was worried, Will didn’t know my history. Charlie just smiled at me, nodded, then stepped out and closed the door.

Will started with the vampire bite. “Not too bad. It mostly closed up when she quit drinking, but we are going to give you some blood anyway.” He said. “I’m going to pour holy water on this. Its going to hurt.”
I nodded. Great googly moogly! Hurt was not the word for that. It burned like acid against the wound. I screamed. I writhed. Then, no pain. I smiled at Will, squingting through the tears.

He hooked up an IV and started me on fluids. I felt immediately better. I was feeling a quart low, and needed a refill.

He smiled weakly at me. “Need you to take off the robe. I’m going to need to check all your wounds.”

I nodded, then slowly slipped out of my robe. I felt ashamed, sitting there naked in front of Will. He’d never seen me naked before, none of these guys had. I can tell you, he was surprised by my little secret. But he was a professional and didn’t let it slow him down too much. He looked me over, then had me lay on my back so he could check out the damage Ivanna had done down below. I laid there on the bed, tears leaking from the corners of my eyes as he gently examined me.

“Well, the good news is, we are not going to need to put you in the hospital. The bad news is...” He paused. “Your anus is prolapsed. It It’s going to need some attention soon, I think. “ He smiled at me and rested his hand on my shoulder. “But, I’ve seen way worse damage from a vampire before. Never to this area, but you are lucky to be alive.”

I nodded, wiping away my tears. Shit. I never wanted a “pink rose”. I knew this happened, hell Id seen pictures of it lots of times, but I have never been a size queen. It could be dealt with. The main thing was, I was alive. I didn’t need to spend any time in the hospital. “So...How long before I’m back in action?” I said, my voice still thick with tears.

“Well. I would say forty eight hours. I’m going to give you some stool softeners, so you don’t do any more damage. No sex. I mean none, for at least a week.” He said.

I laughed out loud. “I don’t think that’s going to be a problem.”

He ungloved. “Go ahead and cover up. I’ll have a shot of Jack, or six ,waiting for you out in the day room.”

I nodded, then pulled the robe back on. He left the room and I fell back on the bed. I laid there for a few minutes. I could hear the guys talking. I prayed everyone made it back, or was at least accounted for. I lit a cigarette and laid there smoking for a few minutes, trying to get my bearings. It hurt to move. That bitch did a number on me. The bag he’d given me was done, so I pulled the IV out and just laid there for a few more minutes.

Finally, I got up, slipped a pair of panties on, and got dressed. Yoga pants and a tee shirt, nothing fancy. I didn’t bother drying my hair, or even putting on shoes, but I did slip my Springfield XD9 compact in its waistband holster into my lower back. I was not going anywhere without some sort of fire arm for a long time after tonite. I paused at the door for a long moment and took a deep breath before opening the door.

The guys were all there. Will was attending to Luther, who had taken some kind of badly bleeding injury to his left arm. Shane was sitting on the couch, still in his armor, smoking a cigarette. Charlie looked over at me and gave me a weak smile. “Well,” He said. “One vampire down. God is good.”

I crossed myself, then smiled at him. “Thanks be to God.” I said, then sat down at the table where, true to his word, there was a red solo cup filled halfway with Jack Daniels. I downed most of it in one go.
“You ok?” Shane asked softly.

I looked over at him. Once again the shame returned, making it hard to look in his eyes. I nodded. “Yeah. I will be.”

He nodded, then unclipped his rifle from its tac sling and leaned it against the couch. “Good. We were worried as shit about you.” He said, standing up and walking over to me. He surprised me as he took me into a hug. Shane was not a little guy, and in his arms I felt absolutely tiny. He hugged me tight and whispered “I’m so sorry we didn’t get there earlier.” Its sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

I nodded against his shoulder. “I know you tried. I’m just glad you found me.” I said, breaking into a sob.

He squeezed me tight, then let me go, settling me back down on my feet though I was still on my tiptoes. He kissed me on the forehead, a brotherly kiss, but nice. “I need one of those.” He said, letting me go and grabbing a couple of cups. He poured a shot for himself and one for Luther, who was getting stitches in his arm. It was weird. He and Luther had seen me naked, they knew now, but didn’t say anything at all, or treat me like anything was different.

“So.” Charlie started. “How the fuck did we not know that vampire was there?” He sounded like he was barely controlling his anger. “What the fuck happened?”

No one spoke up. “OK. We got hoodwinked, and it almost cost us Summer. I’m sorry for that.” He said, looking right at me. “We are going to have to review our surveillance protocols. She should have never slipped past us.” He sat down in one of the folding chairs and li ta cigarette.

We started the debrief. I was zoning out now, as the fourth shot of Jack, coupled with everything else, started working on me . I explained my part, how it had all happened. It was hard, but saying it. Explaining it, seemed to help.
When I was done, they went over their part of the response. The guards and Renfields in the place had been well armed and ready for danger. But, the guy’s training, and speed prevailed. They had hit hard and fast, liberally using flash bangs, to tear into that club like the wrath of God himself. Luther seemed pretty upset about having to fire into the crowds to get the cowardly fuckers who hid among them, but Shane seemed more concerned that they couldn’t find where I was quick enough to save me from the degradations Ivanna had heaped upon me.

Charlie listened to everything, taking it all in. He’d been with the entry team and added a few things to their report, correcting a few things they seemed to misremember. “Ok. Our response went well. It was hard, guys. I admit. But we need to work on our search procedures more. It took us too long to find and breach that door. We will be practicing that for the next couple of days. I’ve called the monastary. They are sending a dedicated surveillance team to the site. We are off rotation for forty eight hours while everyone recoups. Summer.” He said, turning to me.”Are you good here, or do we need to get you back to the shop?” The shop being the monastery.

I shook my head. “No. I”m good here. I just need to rest.”

“Ok.” Charlie said. “Everyone who’s supposed to be sleeping, get to it. Those of you on guard duty, you know what to do.” He leaned back in his chair as everyone got up. I didn’t move. I was tired. Bone tired. But wasn’t ready to face being alone. So, I lit another cigarette and poured myself another shot of Jack.

Charlie sat quietly for a almost a minute. Then he smiled and chuckled. “Summer. You were quite a sight.”

I looked up at him. “huh?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Beating the fuck out of those two chicks, naked, in high heels.” He grabbed the bottle and poured himself a measure. “Sight to see.”

I laughed, picturing it in my mind. “Yeah. I guess it was.” I said. “Fucking crazy.”

“You did good.” He said, then downed his shot.

I blushed. “I couldn’t stop her. From...” I started, but he held up a hand.

“Not your fault. She got into your head. It’s almost impossible to resist a vampire in a situation like that. They have an...Aura, a scent really, that helps them subdue their prey. Once she got you in that room, it was almost impossible for you to resist. If you would have gone hot immediately, fighting, you could have fought the effects. But she would have snapped you in two, you being unarmed. No. You aren’t responsible for your actions in there. I’m just glad you were able to keep it together and keep those two bitches from getting to any weapons. That could have been a bad scene.” He said.

I nodded then took a shaky drag off my cigarette. “It was like a drug, Charlie. It got inside me. I lost all will.” I remembered the feeling. Like the best high every, way better than anything I’d ever taken. “I would have done anything.”
He smiled at me. “Now you understand those poor dumb fucks that give their life to protect the vampires. They’re junkies for it. They live for that high. It’s more dangerous than anything.” He slid his chair closer and took my hand. “Its going to be hard for you. Believe me, I know.’ He said, and I could see by the look in his eyes that he meant it. “You are going to have some withdrawal symptoms. You’ve been through worse, but I’m not going to sugar coat it. We are going to have to lock you in your room, and take away your weapons for the next couple of days, ok?” He said, sounding very sorry.”¨“It might pass in a day, in which case we’ll let you out. But it’s going to be rough, and we don’t want you hurting anyone, or yourself while you DT.”

I nodded. Afraid. Then I handed him my pistol, picked up the bottle and headed into my room.

Charlie was right. It sucked. I slept for about twelve hours, then the DTs started. It was almost as bad as when I came off the Oxy. Almost. I thrashed. I sweated. I cried. The whole of my being was screaming to go back to her. But after about twenty four hours of howling agony it stopped. The clouds began to clear. I began to feel better. They brought me some food and I was able to keep it down. I was thirsty as hell, downing several bottles of water, and felt like I had the mother of all hangovers.

I walked to the mirror, my legs wooden. I looked as bad as I felt. I had bags under my eyes, a swollen lip, a black eye and some bad bruising on my neck. I took a long shower and finally felt close to human. I got dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a tee shirt and knocked on my door. Charlie opened it for me. He took one look at me, then nodded, letting me out.

“Hey Summer.” He said softly. “Come on out.”

I walked out into the room. I had no idea what time it was, but several of the guys were sitting around the table, eating. I sat down across from them at the table as Charlie resumed his seat. It was quiet for a second, then Luther spoke up.
“Feeling better?” He asked, his mouth still full of hamburger.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, Cretin.” I said, then lit a cigarette.

“Yep. She’s feeling better.” He said, grinning at me.

“Summer. Since you were out, we’ve developed some new intel.” Charlie said, putting a value meal bag down in front of me. “Double cheese with everything with fries.” He said, then set an open beer next to me. I smiled at him and started unwrapping my meal.

“Uri is not here. Not even in New Orleans.” He said, leaning back in his chair. “He came through, but then went to Atlanta. Our intel was faulty. We are going to roll out tonight and try to get to Atlanta in time to intercept him and his crew. We’ve got eyes on him, well on his location, and these are good eyes. One of our surveillance teams, not local agents.”

I took a bite of my burger, and it was just what the doctor ordered. “Ok. So when do we leave?” I said, after swallowing, I never talked with my mouth full.

“We are leaving in three hours. We’ll drive through the night and be ready to hit them at dawn.” He looked at all of us, making eye contact with each of us before going on. “Travelling at night is dangerous. We all know that. So, we are going to stick together. If something happens, we split up and rendevous at the safe house off Ponce. Clear? We are going to stick to back roads. The Father has greased some wheels with local law enforcement. They know our vehicles and are not going to impede our progress, but be careful. I don’t want to lose anyone to reckless driving tonite, ok?”

We all laughed. It was awesome when we had permission to speed. I loved driving fast. Charlie went over the route we would take, then outlined the way to go if we had to split up. I loved this kind of action. This was my kind of party. I did hope we didn’t hit any snags on the way back, but since when did anything I hope for ever happen.

****

”¨Vic and I were inseperable after that night. I knew it right then. I was in love. My shields were down and I was vulnerable. I don’t know if he was or not, not then, but it didn’t matter. I was actually happy for the first time in my life. The first year together flew by. After four months together, I moved in with him. It was my first real home. Our home.

Vic was on a haiatus from contracts, training and recouperation time, so he didn’t have to work at all. It was kind of what I imagine being rich would be like. Time to do what you want, no work schedule to lord over you.
Vic taught me how to shoot, and apparently, I was a natural. I picked it up fast, and really enjoyed it. We travelled all over the South East going to three gun matches, and other shoots. I was getting pretty good at IDPA by the end of the sixth month, but was still nowhere near as accomplished as Vic.

I was getting good at Kali too. We practiced every day. For hours every day. Even if I didn’t want to. And we trained. Weight training, cardio (yuk), even yoga (fun). Our sex life didn’t suffer. Vic quickly went from apprehensive in bed to a complete tiger. Yep, it was love.

One night, in the middle of June, after we’d been together for six months and living together for two, I noticed that Vic was kind of distant. Something was bothering him. It took a while for me to broach the subject, because I didn’t want to ruin a good thing, but something was hurting him.

“There’s something I haven’t told you.” He said softly. He looked at me and I could see sadness, and compassion in those beautiful blue eyes.

“What baby?” I said, putting my arms around him. I was scared. He was married. He was a criminal. He was dying. Shit, my mind was racing.

“Let me get us a couple of beers, and I’ll join you out on the balcony.” He said, then kissed me on the forehead and went into the kitchen.

I stepped out on the balcony and lit a cigarette. I had butterflies in my stomach the size of pigeons. I nervously smoked, looking out over the city.

“Here you go.” He said, walking up behind me. He handed me a beer. We tapped our bottles together and drank. He gestured for me to sit.

“I have not been completely honest about my work.” He said. He sounded grave. “Now. First things first. I’m telling you this because I’m crazy about you. So, don’t come into this thinking I’m dumping you. Cause that is the furthest thing from the truth. Ok?” He said, sitting down and taking my hands.

My smile was so big at that point I thought my head was going to split open. I nodded. Then he dropped the bomb.

“Most of what you know about the world is a lie.” He said.

I looked at him like he was crazy. “What?”

“It’s true. There are lies that have been propogated since the beginning of recorded history. Sometimes, truths slip through the cracks and become known. But these truths are then hidden away. Dismissed as legends. Marginalized. It’s the way of the world.” He said, his eyes intense.

OH, shit. I guess I need to get him a tinfoil hat.

“I work for one of the oldest standing organizations in the world.” He said. “We are the front line against the evil of the world, in every possible way.”

I looked at him incredulously. “Huh?” I said. Oh so eloquently.

“I work for the Vatican.” He said finally. “I have been on contract with them for the last five years. Since I got back from my fifth tour. I...” he started, then paused to light a cigarette. “I saw some stuff. They contacted me and explained what was happening. Then, they recruited me.”

“The Vatican?” I said. “You mean the Catholic Church?” I was totally blown away. What the hell would they be hiring a soldier for? “Are you some kind of Vatican sanctioned terrorist or something?” I said, scared for him.

He laughed. “No. Hell no. I am a soldier in the oldest war in creation. We fight the real evil shit that no one else can handle. We hunt things that shouldn’t be.”

I could tell he was skirting the issue. What the hell was he talking about? “I don’t understand.” I said, my voice flat. “You’re kind of scaring me.”

“I know. And I’m sorry about that. But you need to know the truth. I love you, and I can’t lie to you.”

I stood up and walked over to the rail of the balcony. He was crazy. Shit. And things were going so good.

Then he started to explain what he meant. I was kind of letting it wash over me until he said one word. Vampire. I couldn’t help it. I started laughing.

“No, Summer. It’s true.” He said, standing up and walking over to me. I was worried he was going to get violent. But he didn’t. He took me in his arms. “They have worked very hard ofver the centuries to marginalize people who profess that they are real. The greatest trick the devil every pulled was convincing people he didn’t exist. Vampires aren’t the only things that are real either. There are demons too. Just like in the Bible.” He said.

I didn’t know what to think. I knew nothing of the Bible, not really. But something about what he said sounded true. At least he believed it was. “So. What does this mean? I just don’t understand.”

He sat down. “You better finish that beer. I have some more to tell you.” He said, then got up and got me another.

While he was gone, my head was swimming. Could it really be true? Could vampires and demons, and who knows what else be real. He returned and handed me a fresh cold beer.

“One more thing. The night I met you wasn’t an accident.” He said.

“What?” I sat down hard in the chair and fumbled for another cigarette.

“It’s true.” He said. “It started two years earlier. We were tracking a vampire who had moved into the area. He was part of a human trafficking operation that also moved a lot of drugs through some shell shipping companies in Memphis. Your Mother worked for them. She was a mule. You know what a mule is?”

I nodded. I knew my mother was a mule. But what the fuck? Vampires?

“She crossed her bosses. It was stupid. But she was desperate. She stole a bunch of Oxy and a lot of money. She intended to take it, get you, and get the hell out of town. She didn’t make it. We were following the money, as they say. We sent a team to your place, right after we found out she was dead. The intention was putting you into protective custody.” He smiled. “But you were gone. Trailer burned. Arson. We figured out that you had skipped out. “ He said.

I was numb hearing all this. It was exactly what had happened. But my Mom was thinking about me? About getting away? I could feel my eyes getting hot with tears.

“We lost you. For almost two years. We picked up your trail again when you got put in the hospital, after the beating in the biker bar.” He said. He sounded like he felt terrible about it. “Hey, I’ll also have you know that the bikers who did it, are very sorry and wish that they could still ride motorcycles.” There was a coldness in his voice that I’d never heard before. It was kind of scary. And Kind of sexy. I smiled in spite of myself.

“After you got out of the hospital, we kept tailing you. I was coming up on my sabbatical. Every third year of work, we get a year off. To spend our money. To recuperate. To build back up. The life we lead is difficult.” He said, sounding a bit distant. “When you started taking Kali, I thought, why don’t I make contact. I...” He started. Then he laughed. “I had never seen you. Not like you are now. The pictures I had were of a skinny 14 year old girl. Definitely not the woman you turned into.” He laughed. “I never expected to fall in love with you the first time I saw you.” He said quietly.

My heart swelled. Despite his lying to me, those words struck home. I’d lied to him too. I didn’t tell him half of the truth about me. But apparently he knew most of it anyway, and still loved me. He loved me. “Wait. Did you just say you love me?” I said, my voice catching in my throat.

He looked scare for a second. Then he nodded. “Yes. I love you Summer Day.”

I didn’t care what else he had to tell me right then. I hopped into his lap and kissed him. We kissed for a long time. Loving the feeling of our bodies against one another on the hot Memphis night. I couldn’t get his cock out of his pants and into my mouth fast enough. I gave him head for several minutes, but that was just the opening act. I stripped out of my pants and straddled him, lowering myself onto his cock. I rode him there on the balcony, looking him in the eyes, knowing that I was loved and accepted for who I actually am.

When we were finally done releasing a little carnal steam, we talked into the night. He explained to me that he had been asked to recruit me. They thought I might be able to handle the life. Seems that it takes a certain kind of person to live the life. My background worked in their model. That’s why Vic had been teaching me how to fight, how to shoot. He was evaluating whether I could truly step into his world.”¨“I was asked by my superiors to recruit you. But after getting to know you, and falling in love with you, I don’t want to anymore.” He said quietly, then took a long nervous drag on his cigarette.
I looked at him. Stunned. “Why?”

He didn’t look at me. “Because it would kill me if something bad happened to you, baby.” He said, not taking his eyes off the Memphis skyline.
I cuddled up against him. “Nothing will happen to me.” I said.

God I was naive.

***
We set out for Atlanta three hours later. I spent most of that time trying to make myself look, and feel human again. I pretty much succeeded. I put on a bit of make-up, pulled my hair into a pony tail and felt more like my old self. It was still hot, so shorts were definately the way to go. And boots. I’d gotten caught wearing very unsensible shoes twice now, and I didn’t want that to happen again. So my brown Ariat cowboy boots were the way to go. I threw on a leopard halter top with a long sleeve shirt over it to cover the Glock 18 holstered in the small of my back. I topped it all off with a multicam gunfighter hat, complete with velcro panel on the front. That had been Vic’ favorite hat. It made me a little sad to look at it, but was comforting.

I checked my Glock, ensuring that the tac light had batteries, and that it was loaded with silver filled hollow points before holstering it. I put two additional 17 round mags in the kydex pouches on my hip and slipped my folding knife in my front right pocket. I was not getting caught ass out on this trip.

I packed my suitcase back up, then loaded it in the Challenger. Then it was time to check out my other gear, which I moved from the trunk to the back seat. The rifle case was closed, but not latched, so I could get to my M6 quickly if I needed it. I didn’t know who would be riding shotgun, so I left plenty of room. I rumaged through my gear and pulled out a Tactical Tailor belt rig, which I loaded with magazines. Four of the Pink Magpuls, plus three additional mags for my Glock. Then I clipped a couple of flashbangs to it before setting it next to the driver’s seat. If I had to bail out, I could get it on quickly. My plate carrier, a small , no frills, coyote brown one, went behind the seat. I transferred the contents of my purse into a OD green Rothco tactical shoulder bag and tossed the leather purse into the trunk.

I had just lit a cigarette and leaned back against the side of the car when Shane came into the warehouse, lugging a huge duffel in one hand and his rifle case in the other. “You riding shotgun with me?” I asked, giving him a little grin.
“Yep.” He said tossing the stuff into the trunk. “You loaded up?” He said, and I was pretty sure he didn’t mean with clothes.

“Rog-Oh” I said. “Stuffs all staged. Put your shit in where you want it.”

He did a little rearranging to fit his medical bag in the back seat with the other gear. The rest of the team walked out into the warehouse, and in a few minutes, they were ready and we hit the road. It was going to take us at least five hours to make it to Atlanta. So we were East bound and down in no time.

We rode in silence for a little while, just listening to the roar of the engine and the wind through the partially open windows. I kicked it up to about a hundred when we got out of the city and it felt good.

“How long have you been..” He started. “I mean. When did you change...You know.” Shane was having a really hard time getting his thoughts together on this.

I looked over at him and smiled. “Since I was twelve. I transitioned when I was fourteen.” I said, then lit a cigarette. “Transitioned means I went from being a guy to a girl, by the way.”
He laughed. “I got that. I didn’t know. Before tonite, I mean.” He shook his head. “That was a pretty big shock, Summer.”

I grinned at him. “Not that big.” I said.”¨He didn’t get the comment at first, then laughed a bit louder. “Did Vic know?” Then he stopped as it dawned on him. Vic did know, how could he not.” Holy shit.” He said softly.

“Yeah. He knew.” I said, leaving it at that. “Look. Now you know, and I think Shane and Luther do. Charlie has known all along, since I got on the team. But, please. Let me tell the others, OK?”

He nodded. “OK. I think they’ll be ok, Just not fair to not tell them.” He said, sounding a little hurt that I hadn’t told them.

“No, maybe not. But it’s not fair for me to have to tell everyone I meet either. I’m not a tranny, I’m a woman. I was never a man. I was a little boy once, but that’s as far as it goes. If I tell people my secret, then poof. I’m a man. I’m a sex object, or a thing. Not a woman. That shit wears on you. But you are right. You guys are the closest thing to family I have. I trust you with my life. Why not with my secret.” I said.

He smiled at me. “Good. We are good at keeping secrets Summer. And besides, I always looked at you as a sex object.”

I laughed. It felt good to laugh like that, but it did aggravate my new “Pink rose” a little, which was very uncomfortable.

We drove hard. It was cool, blazing through the back roads of the south at high speeds with little or no worry of getting pulled over. We roared through small towns and around bigger ones. It still took us close to six hours to get there because of all the detours we had to take, but we arrived in the Atlanta area an hour and a half before dawn.

Uri was holed up in a big house in Buckhead, to the north of the city. Buckhead, for those of you who have never been to Atlanta, is a pretty ritzy part of town. We were going to have to be very careful not to attract any attention from Atlanta’s finest before we did the hit, and it was going to be hell getting away.

“Why did it have to be Buckhead?” I asked Shane as we were getting off the interstate. “Why couldn’t it have been down by the Braves stadium or something.” I said, grinning at him. The area near the stadium was one where gun fire wouldn’t attract attention.

He shrugged. “We’ve got suppressors.” He said, then grinned.

“Yeah. But if they don’t, its gonna get loud fast.” I said, shaking my head.

I hated doing strikes in areas where there might be police intervention. Especially after the shootout in Memphis. I didn’t want a repeat of that performance.
“You heard Charlie. We hit fast and hard, then get the Fuck out of there. We’ve done it dozens of times.” Shane said.

“Me too. Well, not dozens, but several. It can go pear shaped fast.” I said, then flicked my cigarette out the window. We were pulling into the waffle house now. “Cover the shit in the back seat.”
Shane leaned over the back seat and covered it all with a few beach towels and an empty Styrofoam cooler.

I got out and stretched my legs, and my back. I was still a bit sore from the other day, in all the places you’d expect, and a six hour drive had made me a little cranky. We went into the Waffle House and ate breakfast. We were all starving, and since this might be a last meal, we made it count. We joked, and talked. Not about anything important, just shooting the shit. Trying to work off the nerves that were building up in all of us. I finished first, a lot of food for me was just getting started for a few of the guys.

“Gonna go outside and smoke.” I said, then got the waitress to put some coffee in a to go cup for me. I went outside and lit a cigarette. It was quiet. About thirty minutes before dawn. It was quiet, for a major city. The weather was ok. Hot, but not sweltering. Nice. At least it wouldn’t be too hot wearing our gear.