Tales Of Texas Vampires Part 9

A Tale Of Don Rafael Perez

April 5th: I got the job at the raptor center, thank G.o.d. Not many good jobs for wildlife veterinarians around, let alone one that combines research and veterinary medicine with owls. Start date: June 5th.

There's sure a lot of stuff to get done first though. Just packing my books will take a long time.

I've always dreamed of working with raptors, especially owls. It's so incredible that I'm going to be paid to do so.

The other big dream is to marry and have children.

I want to get started on marriage and a family right away, now that I've got a regular job. My biological clock is ticking and I'd like to bear children while my fertility is still good. But I need to find someone who'll be a good father-caring, committed, around all the time. A steady job would help, just to show that he's reliable.

But mostly, I want a man who'd do anything for his kids. Not someone who'd dump his heroin addict of a girlfriend and let his child grow up in orphanages. My children are going to grow up in a solid family with both parents around, not the way I did.

The real question is how to find the right man. I've never dated much and I don't know any men that I'd like to have children by. Maybe I should check into dating services down there. They should at least be able to help find men who'd be good fathers. They're probably the best bet for finding someone. I just wonder if I've got the nerve to go out with the men they suggest.

May 31st: San Tomas, Texas: It's a very small town (500 people maybe) and I've got a little house on the outskirts with an acre of land. It's the most s.p.a.ce I've had in my life, except when doing fieldwork. The landlord says there's some good jogging routes so my daily five miles should be very pleasant. My old pickup fits in just fine, as do my T-s.h.i.+rts, jeans and boots. It's only 20 minutes to the rescue center so I'll drop in there tomorrow. I should be unpacked by then anyway.

Have to review my notes about who's who at the center, including what they look like. It's been months since I was there and I need to greet them right.

June 1st (afternoon): I stopped by the rescue center, which was having an open house. Folks were just as nice as when I interviewed and seemed genuinely glad to see me.

They showed me my office: Grania O'Malley, M.S., D.V.M., Ph.D. is the name on the door.

I nearly cried when I saw that. Sister Mary Catherine always said my name would be written like that one day. I wish she was still alive to see it.

We went through the rest of the facility, which is much the same as when I interviewed. It's quieter though, even with the visitors, since it's not hatching season with lots of fledglings to nurse. They've got a few interesting cases in the clinic though, as well as some new equipment.

I spoke to one of the visitors, Caleb Jones, who's a geologist working locally and a really nice guy. We chatted for a few minutes about our specialties, the local ecosystem, higher education we'd suffered through, and other standard academic social topics, while watching his boss talk to Bob, the center's director.

Caleb introduced me to his boss, Rafael Perez, when the man joined us after Bob was called away. I became tongue-tied and stammered "Senor Perez" like an adolescent schoolgirl. I even blushed. Silly behavior for me since I've never behaved like that around a man, even when I was a teenager. But I swear I went weak in the knees when I saw him walk up to us, gliding like the mountain lion I saw once in Utah. Crazy reaction to someone that I mostly watched and only said those two words to.

Maybe it's because he's such a big man that I barely come up to his shoulder, when I'm used to looking most men in the eye. If I socialized more, I'd probably have a better idea of how to cope with such a masculine presence.

But he was polite to me, no more, before he left. Linda, the receptionist, said that he watched me as much as I watched him. But I didn't see any signs of that so she was probably teasing.

Bob wouldn't let me start yet and Linda finally shooed me off. He promised they'd call if they needed me so I gave her my pager and cell phone numbers.

Now I've got a weekend free for the first time in how long? Years, anyway. Maybe I'll try to spot some owls and get started on my research down here.

I studied the map and then drove the center's boundaries. It's completely within a public park whose big lake was very busy, even allowing for the Memorial Day holiday week.

There was plenty of beer in sight but no cops visible. Linda said they don't usually have any problems with drunks, but they're 5 miles from the lake anyway.

The center itself is towards one edge of the park, which borders on some private land owned by a trust. It's rough terrain so it's never been farmed or ranched; the ecosystem is still virgin. Bob wants to do research there, of course, but can't get permission. The trust hasn't said yes, but hasn't said no either. Linda said they're hoping to coax the trust's administrator into agreeing.

June 1st (evening): I spent some time studying the recommendations from the dating services and watching the videos, carefully noting which men sounded like the best fathers. There's a wide variety of men represented but that's not surprising. I hadn't really specified much except parental qualities.

Then I went out with my night vision goggles and camera to do some owl watching. It was much easier to be around owls than all those men talking about what they wanted in a relations.h.i.+p. I had plenty of good sightings, which I recorded in my logbook.

It's the events after that, which confuse me. But I'm just going to record all the facts, while I still remember them. I can a.n.a.lyze them later, after time gives me some perspective.

I gradually worked my way towards the lake. It was fairly quiet by then since most of the people had gone to bed. I could see a lightning storm light up the sky miles away but it was just hot and humid where I was. I could hear the small animals start moving around. The mesquite smell was quite distinct and I tried not to get too many twigs caught in my hair.

I finally found myself sitting still at the edge of a thicket, watching a horned owl that was a really magnificent male. I slowed my breathing, using some yoga exercises, and let myself blend into the scene.

I heard two people coming; well, actually I heard the woman first. She was loud, with a voice that combined the worst of Brooklyn and Texas. The man kept kissing her, which shut her up some. But then he'd do something else that freed up her mouth and she'd start letting loose with that voice. She had a really filthy mouth, talking about what she wanted from him. But it sounded as if he was carrying through on her requests.

I stayed still since I didn't have an easy way to get out of there unnoticed.

They stopped in the clearing next to my thicket. I could see them easily. I probably didn't need my night-vision goggles, given the moonlight. But with the goggles, I could see every detail. (I must remember to thank Bob for getting me military goggles, especially this brand-new prototype.) The woman was blonde, with b.r.e.a.s.t.s that came from a catalog, not genetics.

The man was big, two meters tall, muscular, black hair and dark eyes, strong profile; I'll remember that face forever. He looked like a fighter, nothing like a wimp.

It was Rafael Perez, the man I'd just met at the center.

He kissed her and kneaded those b.r.e.a.s.t.s through her T-s.h.i.+rt. She moaned some and clutched at him, definitely enjoying herself. Pretty soon he had his hand down her shorts and she started humping his hand ferociously. He quickly pulled her shorts and T-s.h.i.+rt off. Then his hands really became busy. Mercifully, his mouth stayed over hers and kept her fairly quiet, except for grunts and such.

He eased her down on the ground, with her legs spread. His hand kept working her, masturbating her until she started coming in a series of waves. I'm sure she was having multiple o.r.g.a.s.ms.

I couldn't stop watching; I was frozen in place.

Then his mouth left hers, setting her free to start screeching again, and he bit her on the neck. It wasn't a nice little nip either but a deep puncture.

I choked.

He stopped for just an instant while his eyes searched the clearing. I went as still as I could, trying to make myself invisible. A little voice whispered in my head, "Go away." I ignored the voice; I couldn't leave without making noise to get out of the thicket. The little voice kept urging me to leave but I stayed where I was. I started to get a headache behind my eyes as the voice got louder, until it almost reached a shout. Still, I didn't panic and run but remained in the thicket.

He evidently didn't see me because his attention finally went back to her.

He started sucking her. I could see his fangs penetrate her flesh and his cheeks hollow as he drank her blood. He didn't take much though, probably a little less than a pint.

His fangs were at least three centimeters long. The only thing I could think of was that he was a vampire. But I couldn't believe that. Vampires are creatures of myth and legend, studied by social scientists. They're not observed, while feeding, by a veterinarian.

I was shocked. I've seen predators take their prey before, at even closer range than this, but an attack on a human female was new to me.

I was scared to death. I started wondering what I should do. Should I try to stop him? How?

But all the time, I could hear that screech of hers, carrying on like he was G.o.d's gift to women. So I stayed frozen, telling myself that I must be mistaken, that she wasn't being hurt.

She caressed his head when he stopped drinking. He began to lick her shoulder and she just kept petting him, talking about how good he was in little gasps. When she'd recovered herself and her voice was back to its usual volume, he helped her to get dressed.

I could see a few drops of blood on her neck, just above her jugular.

They walked back towards the lake together, arm in arm. I followed them cautiously, as quietly as I could, which is very quiet indeed given my years of fieldwork. He was supporting her at first but gradually she started walking more and more on her own. She talked about shopping and chocolate, telling him that he was better than either.

They split up when they got in sight of the lake. She kissed him on the cheek and headed towards the lake alone, singing a pop song.

He watched her go while I kept an eye on him. When she was out of sight, he stretched his arms and legs, then his back. He looked almost like a bird preening on its nest. He was graceful too, which is hard to believe of someone that muscular.

Suddenly he s.h.i.+mmered. I blinked in surprise. When I focused again, a very big horned owl was taking off from where the man had been standing. (I know that owl wasn't there before. I have no explanation for this; I'm just recording what I saw.) The owl was gone within seconds and there was no sign of Rafael Perez. I searched hard, using my best tracking skills, but his trail stopped at the point where he had stretched.

I said some unkind things under my breath and headed for the lake at a trot. I spotted the woman soon enough but she was boarding a big houseboat. She moved easily with no sign of weakness or injury. I could see lights and hear voices from the boat's cabin so I didn't follow.

The headache was gone by the time I reached my truck. I never get headaches so it was probably a mild allergic reaction to some of the vegetation. I hope it doesn't bother me again although I'm sure it wouldn't make me stop my research.

Now what do I do? Tell the police? They wouldn't believe me; I'm not sure I believe myself.

The first thing to do is probably check to see if any injury was caused. I'll find her tomorrow and see how she's doing. If there's an injury, I'll try to talk her into seeing a doctor, maybe the cops. If there's no injury, then I'll keep quiet until I've got some observations worth reporting.

June 1st (later that night): I was still thinking about what I'd observed while I got ready for bed. So I took a shower to relax.

I kept seeing Rafael as he pleasured that woman. My hand unconsciously went between my legs, repeating what I'd seen him do. I closed my eyes but heard her voice begging him for more. My hand started moving faster and faster until I came, in a climax that left me sitting in the bathtub.

Some time later, I roused myself when cold water started pouring from the showerhead.

I've never lost consciousness before from an o.r.g.a.s.m and I've m.a.s.t.u.r.b.a.t.ed many times.

I'm going to bed now, determined not to think about this anymore.

June 2nd(before dawn): I can't believe the dream I just had. I'm writing it down now, while I still remember it. Hopefully it'll seem less important in the morning.

I dreamed that I was a horned owl, flying through the night skies with another owl. It was incredibly vivid; I could feel the wind lifting my wings and its sound being m.u.f.fled by my feathers. The larger owl and I seemed to be playing, gliding and dipping above the trees. It was more fun than anything I've ever imagined.

Just because I could, I swooped over a meadow to see the flowers. I alighted amidst some bluebonnets and quickly turned back into myself, laughing quietly. The other owl landed behind me and a man wrapped his arms around me, chuckling.

I leaned back against him and realized that it was Rafael. Neither of us wore any clothing, which seemed very unimportant then, almost customary for us. I savored the feel of that big, strong body giving its heat to me. I could feel his chest move as he breathed in and out against my back. I could see his forearms resting against me, their black hairs silvered by the moon.

I felt safe. And happy and cherished.

I turned around in his arms and kissed him. A very gentle kiss, the lightest possible contact as I chortled. I could feel his mouth soften and move against mine in a sweet dance. Then his tongue delicately glided over my lips, in an elegant mimicry of the dance we'd shared in the skies above.

My hand slid up the back of his neck until my palm rested on the strong muscles and my fingers tangled in his hair. It was long, thick and silky - and irresistible to me. My other hand soon joined it and I lost myself in his kiss as my mouth opened for him.

The only thing that existed then was his mouth, his hands holding me close, and his hard body against me. I lived for the connection with him.

When he lifted his head, we laughed together for joy. I have never laughed as much as I did in this dream.

That kiss proves that this was just a dream. n.o.body can kiss like that, not that I've ever heard of or experienced. Perhaps in books but even there, only in fiction.

June 2nd: I started the day determined to scientifically a.n.a.lyze last night's events. I did a web search but it returned too many hits to be quickly absorbed. So I went out to interview the only other eyewitness. I needed to make sure that she was well and perhaps I could obtain some additional information from her.

I found the woman easily enough. She didn't put in an appearance until almost noon but she looked fine. She had a small bandage on her neck but no other signs of injury. I observed her for almost an hour before approaching her.

She didn't have much to say to me, which wasn't surprising since she blinked at my outfit. Her bikini was a lot newer than my ancient one-piece, which was all I could come up with for lakeside attire.

I tried chatting to her but I'm no good with small talk about men, chocolate, or shopping. She seemed to a.s.sume that I was looking for advice on where to meet the best men. She was fairly polite and did suggest that I check out the local fire station. It offers weekly bingo and monthly dances; she thought that I might be able to meet some interesting men there. She also thought I might be able to get my red haircut and styled at the local beauty salon. (Like I'm going to spend my money on frequent haircuts!) The conversation was stupid but at least I established that she was perfectly healthy and of sound mind, if not much brainpower. I definitely didn't learn anything from her about vampires.

Then I looked for third-person accounts of vampires but couldn't find much scientific a.n.a.lysis in Austin's libraries.

Finally, I started looking for accounts of vampires in local bookstores. The bookstores ran the gamut from enormous respectable places to trendy little shops that sold some very non-mainstream stuff, such as videos and supplies for masturbation.

A thunderstorm blew up just after nightfall, as I found the last bookstore on my list. It was an unusual place, with pictures of dead and dying men covering every inch of wall that wasn't full of heavy, dark wooden bookcases. Old flags hung from the ceiling and s.h.i.+vered in the slightest draft. The best light came from the thunderstorm outside, as lightning bolts picked out old tales of warfare.

It had the best selection of vampire lore though. I met a young guy there, probably a graduate student, named Beau something. He knew a lot about vampires and was a big help in finding the right books. I hugged him once in relief, when he unearthed a particularly useful and rare reference book.

He invited me to go out with him for coffee but I declined. I had gotten a splitting headache while I was in that bookstore and I just wanted to go home. Beau was disappointed and pushed me to accept. He finally accepted my refusal, saying that he hoped we'd meet again soon.

I brought home over a dozen books, fiction and non-fiction. I even bought a couple of "vampire encyclopedias."

But the books raised more questions than they answered. There's not a lot of agreement on what a vampire is or does. So I started describing vampires on my own.

Apex predator at the top of the food chain.

Feeds primarily or solely on blood.

Hunting technique emphasizes s.e.xual attraction.

May or may not kill prey.

May or may not be seen in daylight.

May or may not be capable of s.e.xual acts, specifically o.r.g.a.s.m and/or e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

I tried to figure out the details of a vampire's attack, see if there were some vulnerabilities in the method. (All the sources did agree that vampires are too strong and fast for standard escape and evasion tactics.) This description got me nowhere so I decided to unpack more of my books. But I still kept thinking about Rafael. His beautiful, graceful body. His fangs.

I took another shower, using lukewarm water. My body promptly remembered what it had enjoyed the last time I had stood in the small tiled enclosure and my fingers started playing with myself again.

I wondered if Rafael ever did something like this. Did he truly enjoy women like that blonde? Or did he sometimes pleasure himself, if only for some quiet?

I called myself names and tried to think of other things, like grant applications for research money or examining an eagle. Those birds have a nasty temper, backed by a beak and claws. I've been nicked more than once while handling eagles.

But I kept trying to imagine what Rafael would look like if he fondled himself. Would he look ecstatic or pained? Or both? Would he move with style, like the way he'd handled that woman? Or would he be direct? Would he prefer to touch just the shaft of his p.e.n.i.s or someplace else?

I climaxed, and found myself sitting in the bathtub. Again.

June 3rd: I finished unpacking my books only to discover that I'd put my medieval European history texts in the middle of my anatomy reference books. I had enjoyed that cla.s.s, especially writing the term paper on Alfonso El Sabio, the great 13th century Spanish king. It had been fascinating reading about how well Christians, Moslems, and Jews had lived together then. The flowering of music, poetry, and science during his reign was amazing; I had even memorized some of the cantigas, the great love songs of the time.

Suddenly I could see and hear Rafael singing a cantiga about a knight who had unwillingly left his beloved to follow the king's orders. He was dressed in full armor and a chain mail coif draped his head. His face was startlingly different, without the scar slas.h.i.+ng his eyebrow. His eyes were relaxed, soft and rather absent-minded, as he hummed more than sang the melancholy lyrics.

I caught my breath as the music washed over me. Then I shook my head fiercely. Abstraction was one thing but fantasies were another.

I moved the history texts away from the anatomy books and with the other liberal arts textbooks. Then I moved my paleontology texts, including my term paper on North American predators during the Ice Ages, away from the history texts so they followed the anatomy materials. Sabre-tooth tigers are much more closely related to anatomy than to cantigas.

Finally I faced the pile of vampire books and my notes. My a.n.a.lysis left me with more questions than I'd started with. So I decided to go back into the research center to use their library. I wanted to compare more of the standard literature on predators to what I'd found on vampires.

My mind was a thousand miles away when I walked into the center just before sunset. I stopped dead when I came into the reception area.