- Stacy -

Bridget followed behind me as we trudged leisurely through the forest. “So where are we headed anyway?” she asked through her breath. Despite being immortal she had the endurance of a regular human, so I needed to limit my pace in order for her to keep up.

I met Bridget a couple days prior while on a mission to wipe out a tribe of lowlifes. It wasn’t unusual for lowlifes to capture drifters lost in the forests, but an immortal was a rare find. Unlike their usual victims, Bridget didn’t have the mercy of death to release her from her suffering, so I decided to save her instead. I was going to kill her captors either way, and I wasn’t heartless enough to leave her tied up like that.

In exchange for me saving her as well as my continued protection, we made a deal that she would share her blood with me. Immortals were like endless blood supplies, so they were naturally coveted among vampires. She’d be better off in my care than with any other vampire.

However, there was one small problem. Bridget was suicidal. She seemed convinced that she deserved to die. I thought if I could inspire some self-confidence in her that would improve the situation, but so far my attempts have been unsuccessful. Now I worried that even if I brought her into a life of luxury this suicidal behavior of hers might continue. What would I do if she ended up offending Lord Dagon by asking him to kill her?

“We’re going to a place called Castle Haimorrha,” I answered her question at last. “It’s the capital of Haimorrha worship, and also my home.”

“You live in a castle?” Bridget gasped. “You’re not a princess or something are you?”

I laughed. “Of course not. Just a high priestess.”

“We’re going to be hanging out with a bunch of vampires though right? Will I be okay?”

“Don’t worry, they’re all civilized. Lowlifes aren’t welcome. It probably would be best not to mention that you’re immortal though.”

I look of fear briefly crossed Bridget’s face as she nodded, no doubt she was thinking back to those barbarian lowlifes.

“If anyone does give you trouble, you could always tell them that your blood belongs to me,” I teased, winking an eye at her.

She gave me a conflicted smile.

At the end of the night we camped in another tunnel sloth’s den. I fed her again and now it was time for her to feed me.

“You’re not going to cry again like last time are you?”

“N-no, I promise,” she said as she bared her neck to me.

I leaned over her, a hand planted on either side of her. She twitched slightly as I gently licked her neck. By prepping the area with my saliva I could ensure that my entry would be completely painless.

Finally I bit in, and the taste of her fresh blood rolled onto my tongue. I’ve tasted many girls in my time, but Bridget was the best. It’s hard to describe. The flavor was tingly and sweet, something like carbonated honey.

Bridget wrapped her arms around me again as her breath deepened. I sucked out the last few drops of blood until the wound closed on its own before pulling away. The arousal was clearly visible on her face, the effect of my aphrodisiac. As promised she didn’t cry. In fact, she looked somewhat disappointed that it was over.

I smiled at her. “Want to keep going?”

She blushed, looking away. She presented her neck to me, and I sunk my fangs back in.