Dream Demons

            She was dying. She had to be.             A rock song blared in the background as people shouted to their companions. The noises were muffled. Her chest ached and her throat burned, as if she were drowning and her last breath sucked out.             Marita sat in a dark corner with a double shot of Jack on the rocks in front of her. Holding the glass with the tips of her fingers, she swirled the amber liquid, listlessly.She wouldn't talk to anyone. She never did. Her only company, her only solaced, was thew whiskey. She wanted to be alone but she couldn't. Then pain was too much. The noise of the packed bar and the liquor dulled the pain and blurred the loneliness, if only for a little while.             She searched for something to end it. The memories, the pain, the emptiness. It was unbearable. She didn't know how she survived as long as she had. Her family was gone, destroyed, and she was alone. She should have been there to die with them. Her sanity slipped away, minute by minute. No mother should outlive her children. There was nothing left for her but to be with them in the afterlife. However, she couldn't take her own life or she would be denied the peaceful rest, and burn for all eternity.             She tossed back the sweet, burning liquid, her eyes squeezed tight. She held her head back as it flowed down her throat. A single tear trickled down her cheek. Swiping the lone tear away, disgusted.              "Are you okay, sweetie?"             Slowly turning her head, she opened her eyes. The conscientious barmaid took a step back. She didn't answer, her eyes never leaving the young woman's face. What was her name again? Who cares? She pushed her glass towards her. She quickly picked up the glass and hurried away.             He watched the pale beauty from across the bar. His exceptional sight allowed him to clearly admire every detail through the smoky haze and poor lighting. Her long, brown hair hung limply around her, her skin pale and her large breasts straining against the black t-shirt.  He was drawn to her, as were many of the men frequenting this particular bar.              He had tried talking to her before. Once. It went badly to say the least She simply stared coldly and didn't say a word. Just turned back to her drink. The lack of reaction was shocking, women normally responded positively to him without effort on his part. There was something in her eyes that intrigued him. A pain, a loneliness, that he was familiar with.             She generated a great energy. She probably wasn't even aware of it. He could feel it strongly from across the room, a power that struck and caressed simultaneously, drawing humans like magnets, but unaware of the reason. With his preternatural psychic ability he was more aware of it. A lesser vampire may succumb, as well to her call. As it was, he could feel her pull and it intrigued him. He'd not been intrigued in a very long time.              Swirling his wine, lost in thought. The little blonde waitress, he could never remember her name, came up setting her tray on the bar. There was nothing special about her. Heavily made up face, lots of perfume and tight, revealing clothing causing her to blend in with the rest of the women of this time.              "Pam, can I get another double Jack on the rocks?" She perched her tiny butt on the open stool. Probably trying tom relieve the ache in her lower back from running around all night in stilettos.  She was cute in a mindless, T&A sort of way. The type that made one-night stands effortless. Petite, long stick-straight blonde hair, large breasts that were too perfectly round to be natural.Tiny waist and hips leading to a firm and almost non-existent butt and long legs without any significant definition. Looking in her blue eyes, there was an emptiness that showed how much she relied on her looks. She was definitely a victim of her time that encouraged style over substance.                  "For the ice maiden?" replied the bartender while they shared a laugh.                 "Every night it's the same thing. She sits there by herself. If some unlucky bastard ventures over, she shoots him down. Even the most persistent guy runs away."                 Sitting quietly, he listened to their gossip. He knew what they thought, what they wouldn't say. He read beyond their words. Their jealousy, Her natural beauty, her auburn hair shined even in the low lights of the bar. Her skin, flawless. Her silent vulnerability drew everyone around her, drawing men wanting to protect her. It was sad that these girls were too shallow to recognize why they were so catty.             "You're awful quiet tonight, love." The bartender was barely twenty-two and slender, too skinny for his tastes. Her long straight multi-colored hair was pulled into a pony tale. Just another automaton in an age where society dictates behaviors and styles of the masses.              "Just lost in thought dear."He emptied his glass and placed it for her to refill. "Who's the 'Ice Maiden' you two were yakking about?"             "Just some freak. She been coming in here every night for the last few months, just to sit by herself and scare people. And, boy, can she drink." She laughed lightly. "She's little, but she drinks doubles all night and I've never seen her the worse for it." Grabbing a new napkin she placed a fresh red wine in front of him.              "Must be Irish," he replied halfheartedly. Sipping his wine, he contemplated his next move.             "Why would a ladies' man like you be interested in a woman like her?" Leaning forward she tried to draw his attention to her exposed cleavage.             "I love a challenge." He picked up his glass and headed over to give it another try. Walking away he heard Pam's disgusted snort. It's time to pull out all the stops. He could be pretty charming, if he did say so himself. Something about this woman called to him, stirring his restless spirit like no other.            "Mind if I join you?"             A voice cut into her thoughts, startling her. She jumped, turning wide eyes to him. Nice! Finding a very attractive man standing beside her wasn't common and yet there was something familiar about him. His incredibly broad shoulders blocked out the world around her. Mentally shaking herself, she remembered that men never effected her anymore. She'd lost interest in companionship when she'd lost her family.             So why was she suddenly finding herself lost in a pair of deep blue eyes and imaging running her fingers through his long, corn silk blonde hair? It did look incredibly soft. How would it look if she released it from it's restraint? Caressing his shoulders, brushing her bare skin with its silky fullness.              Looking around at all the crowded tables, she managed to look directly at him again. He was definitely a tall drink of water. Long, sandy blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, devastating blue eyes, like sapphires. His incredibly broad shoulders pulled his black shirt tight beneath his classy blazer. He definitely has money. Handsome in a pretty boy/boy band, sort of way. Stylishly unshaven. He definitely didn't look like the sort of guy that she usually attracted.             "That's okay. You can have this one. I her was just leaving." Reaching into her pocket to pay for her drinks, flustered by her randy appraisal and illicit thoughts accompanying his simple request, she pushed her seat out. The noise and the press of so many bodies was beginning to suffocate her anyway. How the presence of this good looking man was making her even more uncomfortable.              But gods he was hot!             "Don't worry about it, it's on me."             "Um, thanks, but you don't have to."             "I know, I want to."              Picking up her glass she tossed the remainder of her drink back, hoping to regain her equilibrium. It wouldn't be good for him to know how much he affected her. Standing, she tried to get around him, but he was like a brick wall. She finally met his gaze.             "Well, now that's much better." He must think he's so charming! She was certain he was used to getting what he wanted. Almost as certain as she was that she would never be able to open herself to another man. All she knew was she had to get out of there before something happened that she might regret.             "Excuse me." She infused as much ice in her voice to refreeze the polar ice caps. But from the look in his eye she was afraid it wouldn't work on him. She sighed, defeated. Her energy drained. All she wanted to do was go home.  "What did you do? Lose a bet?"                          "Please, sit. Join me. Just to talk." Ignoring her last comment, he amped up the charm factor. Giving his best smile, showing plenty of teeth but always careful to keep his fangs hidden. Asking twice was usually a last resort. After that it amounted to begging and he never had to beg for companionship. However, anything worth having was worth the effort and the energy flowing off this tragic beauty was definitely worth the effort.             "I'm sorry. I'm not very good company. So if you'll excuse me." Ducking her head she edged around him and he let her go. For now. He watched her small figure disappear amid the crush of bodies.             This is going to be tougher than I thought. Smiling to himself, he made his way to the bar.              "I'm paying her tab, too." Pam looked at him like he'd grown a second head, but he didn't care.              "Are you serious? Hate to break it to you but she left without you."              "I know. It's all part of the chase." Shaking her head, she took his money. He finished the rest of his wine before setting his glass on the bar.             "Good luck, Lover Boy."             Heading for the door, weaving between crowded tables, he thought she had enough head start. Wouldn't want her thinking he was stalking her, after all.              Stepping out into the balmy night, he looked up and down the street until he spotted her small figure disappearing around a corner a few blocks away. She's moving pretty quick for a human. Using his preternatural speed and stealth it took him no time to catch up. Cloaking himself in the shadows he followed closely behind her.              Why would a young woman want to walk late at night through this part of town? Did she have a death wish?              She stopped suddenly, like she sensed his presence. Could she? He must be losing his touch. Then he felt it. A slight shift in the air and a quick chill. She picked up her pace. It's possible she had no idea what she felt,  she blow it off as 'the creeps'.              He knew and he didn't like it.              There was a slight shimmer a few feet ahead of them. Some old newspapers blew across the abandoned street. Her head was down, watching her feet. Completely unaware of what was going on around her. He recognized the portal of the demons. It wasn't so much a portal as a tear in the fabric of this dimension. Must be hunting time. The pack emerged from the portal as silent as Ninja warriors. Still cloaked Dar grabbed her, shielding her from the demons. Covering her mouth to muffle the scream he knew would come, he pulled her small body tight against his as he hugged tight to the wall.              Her scent overwhelmed him. No perfume. Just the smoke from the bar, a light whiskey smell and the slight whiff of her simple shampoo. No flowers, no fruit, minimal. And underneath it all was her.He was acutely aware of her every curve pressed to him. Her tight bottom, narrow shoulders, even the way her breasts pressed against his arm as it wrapped around her ribs.                  She stopped struggling against the strangers grip when she saw the monsters moving quietly down the street. They blended in the shadows and her eyes widened when two of them scaled the wall of a building across the street. She couldn't make out their faces even when they stepped into the streetlights. Their bodies were obviously misshapen. And were those...horns?