Lavinia’s wounds didn’t magically heal: her poor nose was still a squash blossom, but her skin did look healthier again as she gasped, panted, and climbed from peak to peak. “Ah my god, jeez, jeez, oh god, god!” she shrieked, again and again.

Sally smiled. Lavinia only called on the Deity when she was out of her mind with ecstasy and “god” was definitely in lowercase even then.

At last, though, Sally got worried about someone hearing the noise. She leaned over to catch Lavinia’s eye.

Their eyes locked!

Sally threw herself on Lavinia without thinking, pulled into a world beyond wetness by those eyes.

She ground her groin against the heat from beneath. Their clothes didn’t exist. She knew Lavinia was still a vampire but she couldn’t care. She risked everything, she opened herself. “Yours, babe, yours,” Lavinia gasped around the wet sounds, “ah my GOD, ah, ah!!” Sally felt herself drenching the inside of her jeans.

The sun sank lower, filling the front window of the camper, bathing the lovers in golden light and warmth. They kissed and thrashed together, Lavinia’s teeth sharp and her taste different.

Someone from one of the other vehicles did come and call out, “Sunset pretty soon, folks. Better hit the road.” Sally didn’t know whether they got an eyeful or not. They certainly said nothing else.

Human beings are not made for extended orgasm. Sally was exhausted but she couldn’t pull her eyes away from Lavinia’s. Her heart hammered. Her sweat-drenched clothes clung miserably and her throat was raw.

As the light flamed deep orange and her body cried with fatigue, she wondered if this was what it felt like to be hypno–

Oh dear God!

She wrenched her eyes away from those hypnotic vampire eyes and collapsed in a heap on Lavinia’s twitching body.

Stitches burned in her chest as if she had run miles. Her muscles quivered helplessly.

Mist swam in front of her eyes and the world seemed to darken. But she heard whispering and teasing start up outside and realized it was just that the sun had slipped below the horizon. Lavinia’s breathing slowed and she muttered ragged incoherent words.

Then her arms came up like the strike of a cobra and wrapped around the still-helpless Sally.

Sally realized what she should have expected: when night came, all bets were off. Those arms (hot, not cold) held Sally pinned. She had no stake and she could barely move from fatigue. Hypnotized, then worn out. Helpless prey.

Lavinia flipped her over as if she were a puppy. Sally looked up to see a vampire looming over her. The face smiled horribly, the teeth gleamed, the eyes radiated hunger.

Sally struggled, barely able to make her muscles work. Outside, voices called, “Not fair! How did you get in? Let us in, welcome us in too…”

Lavinia’s grin was triumphant as she held Sally’s arms pinned. Slowly she lowered her mouth, hissing in the back of her throat like an animal.

“No, baby, don’t, stop!” Sally cried hopelessly, hating her weak, ragged voice but looking straight at her oncoming death.

Lavinia instantly released her.

“Okay, baby, okay, I’m stopping, like we agreed,” she said, stroking Sally’s face, full of concern.

It took a second for Sally to remember their talk from the first night they’d spent together: “Your safe word is ‘stop!’ That’s all you need to know … you want something to stop, say. You good with that, baby?”

Lavinia hadn’t been trying to kill her. She’d been trying to top her.

“I’m still … good with that,” Sally gasped, crying with relief.

Lavinia’s strong warm arms pulled Sally close. Familiar, dear. How could she have doubted? All those times Lavinia had held her pinned just like that, making deep animal sounds as she took Sally body and soul.

Sally turned her head against the emblem of the talking raven, and cried like a baby into Odin’s ear.