The Vampire Next Door

by Ashlyn Chase

  “Please, Sly. I need you. All of you.”

  He smiled and pushed ahead slowly until he was fully seated. He caressed her cheek with one finger and reached between them with the other hand to where they were joined. He rubbed little circles around her clit as he withdrew and thrust. If he kept going slowly like this, she’d go mad.

  As if sensing her frenzy, he coated his finger with her juices and rubbed quick strokes across her clit while he increased the tempo of his thrusts. She moaned her gratitude and sensed the building tension in her core.

  Finally, the pleasure peaked and shock waves erupted, radiating from her core to the top of her head to her fingers and toes and back again. She quivered and shook, trying to be quiet but unable to stop a scream of ecstasy as it tore from her lips.

  She screamed and bucked and screamed some more as Sly stayed right on the root of her pleasure until every last drop of bliss had been wrung from her. He came with a few uneven jerks and gasps. At last, he dropped next to her as she lay spent.

  She curled into the crook of his arm and he held her. Softly, she murmured, “I love you, Sly.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I love you too. I always will.” A smile entered his voice. “After all, you’re my beloved.”

  A wave of contentment filled her. “You’re mine too.”

  * * * *

  That evening, as Jules opened his door to the hallway, the strong smell of alcohol almost knocked him over. “Don’t tell me they’re partying in the basement again. And even if they are, why the hell does their booze waft way up here?”

  He was about to take his trash out to the Dumpster, so he figured he’d swing by the basement on his way and check on things. He jogged down the flight of stairs to the first floor, leaned his trash bag by the wall, and opened the basement door. A wave of crisp ethanol-scented air hit his nostrils like the deep chill of swimming through a cold spot in the ocean.

  “What the hell?”

  He flipped on the light switch and took the cellar stairs double time. “Ladies? Are you down here?”

  All was quiet. Except for a small dripping sound. Afraid something in the laundry room might have sprung a leak, he went there first. He checked the deep sink, the pipes beneath it, and the space behind all the washing machines. Everything was dry.

  Whew! I can skate by on my false claims of plumbing expertise for a while longer.

  “So where are that damn dripping and strong smell coming from?”

  He moved to the other half of the basement and peered around the boxes, half expecting to hear female giggles again. Not this time. Just that infernal dripping sound. It sounded like it was coming from the back wall. As he approached, he noticed something he hadn’t seen before. A crack spanned the length of the wall right at the bump-out.

  That’s weird.

  He grabbed the flashlight he kept on a shelf and returned to the suspicious spot in the wall. He illuminated the crack and noticed a space behind it. Then something glinted in the light. Something copper.

  What the hell is that? With my luck, it’s some new plumbing I haven’t seen before and it’s leaking, dammit.

  With a crowbar and a hard pull, a hinge creaked and the crack opened. A metal contraption with copper pots and tubes came into view, with a clear liquid dripping from it into a bucket.

  “Is that a still?” he said out loud.

  Of course no one answered him, but they didn’t have to. This explained everything. The smell. The girls partying in the basement. Everything. Should he report it to the board of health? Heck, no. That would call attention to the ballplayer’s building. They’d probably want to talk to the owner.

  He sighed. “This might explain the extra foot traffic too. They’re probably selling it.”

  Well, they wouldn’t be selling any more. He’d have to drain and dismantle the enterprise. But should he squeal on the residents? He began looking for the shut-off valve and decided that would depend upon how much of a pain in the ass the still was to take apart.

  * * * *

  Sly held Morgaine’s hand and knocked on the door of apartment 3A with his free fist. She’d noticed that his skin warmed whenever he had some of the vampire curative wine in his system. He was still plenty warm from that morning’s dose.

  Lily had come up the stairs right behind them and waited along with them for Gwyneth to open her door.

  Eventually, the door swung open wide.

  “C’mon on in, all y’all!” Gwyneth stepped back and allowed her guests to enter. Country music played in the background. It had to be Gwyneth’s favorite radio station or a CD she’d recently bought. Morgaine had never heard the song before.

  She had seen Gwyneth’s girly apartment plenty of times, but the other two probably hadn’t. Their gazes wandered around, taking in the decidedly feminine decor. White wicker furniture with pink-and-white striped cushions and loads of unmatched floral pillows dominated the room.

  A pink tablecloth and a vase of flowers graced the dinette table. Also on the dinette were a platter of crust-free sandwiches cut in triangles, cheese, crackers, fried okra, and peanuts. Gwyneth’s version of party food.

  Nathan rounded the corner of the kitchen with a Mason jar of what looked to be the finished moonshine whiskey. It was a pure amber color.

  Morgaine pointed to it. “Is that the um…” She glanced at Lily. Oops. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “First batch,” Nathan said proudly. “Gwyneth and I finished it up while we were, ahem, waiting for you and Sly to, ahem, relax after your ordeal.”

  Sly smirked. “Badly clogged throat you’ve got there, Nathan.”

  Morgaine dropped Sly’s hand and strolled toward the windows. She gazed outside at the fierce snowstorm. It must have begun snowing as we were, ahem, making love.

  Nathan noticed her by the windows. “Big snowstorm out there. It’s times like this when I’m glad I don’t have a car.”

  “Amen to that,” Sly said.

  Gwyneth piped up. “If I had a car out there, I think I’d just let it set until spring.”

  Nathan strolled over to her and casually wrapped an arm around her waist. “Until the city made you move it so they could plow. Thank goodness for public transportation.”

  “Are you two…” Lily pointed from one to the other and back again. Her question wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Gwyneth chuckled. “Not just yet. I’m gonna make him wait a bit. That way he’ll appreciate me.”

  “I already appreciate you.”

  “I know, I was just teasin’ is all.”

  “You’re a tease all right.”

  He tickled her. She shrieked and tried to squirm away.

  Morgaine noticed Lily watching the scene with a serene smile.

  “Lily, how are you doing?”

  “Fine now, thank you.”

  Nathan looked over at her. “No more fiery sneezes?”

  “No. I saw Jules before coming up here.” She blushed.

  “Why didn’t y’all bring him to the party?”

  “I didn’t know if he was invited.”

  “Of course he is.”

  “Now, wait a minute, Gwyneth. This is my pad too. Shouldn’t you ask me if I’m okay with him being here first?”

  “Oh, fiddlesticks, Chad. What could y’all possibly object to as far as Jules is concerned?”

  “Well, I think you might want to avoid him for a while.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “He’s dismantling your still as we speak.”

  Gwyneth and Morgaine gasped.

  “Not the still,” Gwyneth wailed.

  Sly had been gazing longingly at the food on the table, but he whirled around and stared at them. “What about the still?”

  Gwyneth collapsed on the sofa and covered her face with her hands. “Chad just said Jules is dismantling it.”

  “Shit! Now what are we going to use to preserve the…” He trailed off and gazed at Lily.

  Morgaine knew what he
was going to say, but he probably didn’t know Lily well enough to trust her with his secret yet.

  Suddenly Gwyneth lifted her head. “I know. We can make wine. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that afore. It don’t require no still.”

  Lily looked confused. “You have a still? Can’t you afford to buy alcohol when you want some?”

  “Um…” Morgaine had to say something before Gwyneth spilled any more beans. “No, not really. Our finances are pretty low right now.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that. I have some money saved…”

  “No, please, don’t worry about it. We’ll manage.”

  “Are you sure?”

  A knock at the door interrupted their conversation.

  “Now who could that be?” Gwyneth wondered out loud.

  “You might not want to answer it.”

  She hesitated, then rolled her eyes. “Pshaw. Don’t be silly, Chad. I can handle Jules.”

  “It’s not Jules. It’s Merry, your landlady.”

  “Well, why wouldn’t I want to talk to Merry?” She strode to the door and opened it. “Why Merry, what a pleasant surprise. Were we makin’ too much noise? We was just havin’ a little gatherin’…”

  “No, not at all,” Merry said. “I’m sorry to bother you—again, but I think I’m in labor for real this time.”

  Sly rushed over. “The baby’s coming? Now?”

  Gwyneth’s jaw dropped. “Goodness. Ain’t Jason home yet?”

  “No, the blizzard hit Minnesota before he could get a flight out. Now it’s here, so even if he could take off, he couldn’t land.”

  “Oh, dear. And Roz?”

  “I didn’t call her. I don’t want her to drive all the way from Newton in this storm.”

  By this time, Morgaine had joined them. “Merry, I can help you. I’ve been trained in midwifery.”

  “You have? Awesome!”

  “So, where do y’all want to do this? We can kick everyone out and use my apartment…”

  Merry looked horrified. “No, goodness no! I already called a cab. I just wanted someone to go to the hospital with me… you know, in case something happens and I get a cab driver who doesn’t know how to deliver a baby.”

  Sly stepped forward and took her hand. “Morgaine and I will both go to the hospital with you, sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing. Now, let me get your bag.”

  “Thanks, Gramps. It’s upstairs.” Merry winked at him, and he gave her as big a hug as he could around her belly.

  “I’ll just grab my coat,” Morgaine said and hurried across the hall.

  Gwyneth rushed after her. “Morgaine, wait.”

  Morgaine stopped. “What is it?”

  Gwyneth leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Talk to Merry about our little problem in the basement while you’re waiting with her.”

  “Oh, Lord and Lady, Gwyneth. Now’s not the time.”

  Chapter 20

  As Merry began her fourteenth hour of definite, genuine labor, she found it hurt less when she was positioned on her side. Or maybe it was the low back rub Morgaine was giving her that eased the pain. Sly sat on the opposite side and held her hand.

  “How are you doing, honey?”

  “I’m fine,” both women said at once. Then Morgaine let out a nervous giggle.

  Merry suddenly realized Morgaine had been standing in one spot for a long time. “I’m sorry, Morgaine. You don’t need to keep massaging me if you’re getting tired.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Oh, thank goodness, because it feels really good.”

  Sly chuckled. However, it was the kind of nervous noise that relieved an awkward moment.

  He voiced what Merry had been hoping ever since her labor pains had sped up to every two minutes. “I’ll bet Jason will be here any minute.”

  “Is it still snowing?” she asked.

  “I doubt it,” Sly said. “It’s almost morning, and it began yesterday afternoon.”

  Morgaine stopped massaging just long enough to stroll around the curtain to the window. Merry was glad the semi-private room had been the only one available when they checked in. Sharing her experience with someone else who was going through it had helped with sympathy. Her roommate had gone to the delivery room an hour earlier.

  “It’s stopped,” Morgaine said.

  “Finally! Maybe Jason’s plane has landed and he’ll get here in time for the birth. Although I’d feel kind of bad for the two of you having gone through all these hours of labor with me only to miss the grand finale.”

  Morgaine returned to Merry’s side and resumed her low back massage. “Don’t worry about us, Merry. We’ll be in the waiting room if we can’t go in with you.”

  “I can’t thank you both enough—” Another pain was coming. She began to moan, and concern filled Sly’s eyes. In some ways, he seemed more nervous than she was.

  She squeezed his hand and knew that if Jason was here, he might not be holding her hand. He wasn’t allowed to do certain things that would risk his ability to pitch. She remembered him telling Roz that skydiving was strictly forbidden. But, she imagined him trying his hardest to make it to the hospital and bailing out over Boston General. He could shift into his falcon form and fly, after all.

  At last, the contraction eased and she took a deep breath, relieved it was over—for a couple of minutes.

  A nurse’s aide entered the room. “How are you doing, Mrs. Falco?”

  “Okay,” she said, tentatively.

  “Good. Be sure to use the buzzer if you need anything.”

  When she left, Sly asked, “Do you know any of these nurses from working here?”

  “No. I was in pediatrics. Nurses from different departments don’t usually get chummy unless they were friends before.”

  Just then a stretcher holding her exhausted-looking roommate rolled in.

  “Hey, Anna. How did it go?”

  Her husband grinned. “We had a healthy baby girl.”

  Anna snorted. “Yeah, we were in labor for six hours. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  “Congratulations. I’m happy for you both.”

  Morgaine seemed genuinely interested. “This is your second, right?

  Anna nodded. “I don’t mean to be rude, folks, but I’ve got to take a nap.”

  “Of course,” Merry said. “We’ll be quiet—unless I start screaming.”

  Just then Jason sailed into the room. “Who’s screaming?”

  “Jason!”

  He rushed to her outstretched arms.

  “Looks like I made it,” he said.

  “Thank goodness. How’s your dad?”

  “Much better.”

  “Good. Sweetie, can you take over for Morgaine and rub my back with your non-pitching hand?”

  “I’ll be glad to. Have you been at it a while, Morgaine?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  “More like forty-five,” Merry corrected. She imagined her friend didn’t want them to feel as if she’d been working too hard for too long.

  “Thank you for taking such good care of my wife in my absence.” Jason rounded the bed and relieved Morgaine.

  Another person entered the room. A different nurse this time. “I need to check to see how dilated you are,” she said. “Your husband can stay, but I think your visitors ought to leave for a few minutes.”

  “That’s okay.” Sly smiled. “We’ll be nearby.”

  “Maybe we should go to the waiting room at this point,” Morgaine said. “I have a feeling it won’t be much longer before she delivers.” She winked at Sly.

  The nurse looked over at Morgaine. “Are you a nurse or a midwife?”

  “I took some classes in midwifery.”

  Merry was about to explain that Morgaine was her father’s girlfriend, but another contraction hit and the information seemed superfluous.

  Jason paused. “Are you all right, honey?”

  “Will be. Keep rubbing,” she said.

  Jason returned
to his task.

  Sly reluctantly let go of Merry’s hand. “Good luck, sweetheart. Jason, be sure to let us know how she’s doing as soon as you can.”

  “Will do.” He reached over her and shook Sly’s hand.

  Morgaine closed her eyes briefly and murmured something just under her breath. When she opened them, she must have noticed a puzzled look on their faces.

  “Just offering a prayer to the Goddess for the best possible outcome,” she said.

  “Why? Is anything wrong,” Jason asked.

  Morgaine quickly interjected, “No. Nothing at all. I just figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Merry smiled at her. “That’s perfectly fine. In fact, all prayers and good wishes will be gratefully accepted.”

  * * * *

  Sly walked Morgaine to the waiting room. A couple of other people were there reading, so he whispered to her. “Did you really say a prayer or were you doing a spell?”

  “They’re pretty much the same thing.”

  He took a seat, even though he felt more like pacing. Morgaine settled into the chair next to him.

  Keeping his voice low, he continued. “You are so talented in magick, I imagine you could make good money at that alone, if you wanted to.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “I just think you could let Gwyneth take over the phone-sex business and you could become a full-time witch. You know… doing spells for people like you did for Mikhail.”

  “First of all, witches aren’t supposed to sell their magick. We can charge money for tarot, palm, or tea-leaf readings, but when it comes to spells, we have to be asked. We can trade favors as I did with Mikhail, but anything else is against the Witches’ Rede.

  “Why do you think there are no signs that say, ‘Spells R Us’? Magic is not to be used lightly, and it’s definitely not for fools. If you don’t know who you’re helping and what they’re up to, it can be very dangerous.”

  Her voice took on a slightly hissed, higher pitch as she whispered. The other people looked up from their magazines.

  “Hey, what’s the matter? I was giving you a compliment.”

  She folded her arms and huffed. “I suppose.”

  “Then why are you pouting?”

  “I’m not pouting.”

  There was that raised voice again. Something was bothering her.