My Girlfriend is a Vampire Ch. 01

Disclaimer: I do not own the legal rights to Lara Raith. Lara Raith is a character that was created by Jim Butcher for his stories about a fictional private investigator/wizard named Harry Dresden. I am merely borrowing Lara for a short time to bring a little fan-fiction entertainment into your lives.

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When I first met Lara Raith, it was at a party thrown by a movie producer. The producer had invited dozens of potential investors to the party in the hopes of getting us to invest in the production of his newest project. I had initially been reluctant. The title of the move; Leather, Lesbian Biker Sluts; didn't really inspire confidence.

I have nothing against the porn industry, however, Phil wanted me to invest twenty-five thousand in a move that had a puerile title. And the script was even more disappointing than the title. It read like it was written by a sixteen-year old boy with an extremely limited imagination and no firsthand knowledge of how lesbians really interacted with each other.

However, I accepted Phil's invitation to the party. Phil could be extraordinarily persistent when he wanted to be, and I was put into a position where I had to either accept the invitation to Phil's party or be overtly rude, and tell Phil that I thought his movie had all the appeal of a rabid dog that needed to be put down for the good of all humanity.

Phil was one of the first friends I made when I moved to Chicago. He wasn't exceptionally bright, however, he always tried to be polite, friendly and charming. He wasn't the stereotypical sleaze ball that people think of when they think of porn producers. He was a nice guy, with childlike enthusiasm and a puppylike desire to make friends and be adored by everyone in his circle of friends.

So, I attended Phil's party, not because I had any confidence in the movie's ability to make money, but more because I was worried about hurting Phil's feelings if I blew him off.

I made small talk with the other potential investors and took advantage of the open bar. Phil knew a wide variety of people in Chicago and some of them were quite engaging. About a dozen of them agreed with me that the screenplay was total crap, and one of them insisted that he wouldn't invest a dime in the project unless Phil allowed him to do a complete re-write of the entire script.

"I never even thought of that," I admitted.

"When you invest tens of thousands of dollars in a project," my new acquaintance said, "they usually offer you all sorts of favors as a token of gratitude. Why not offer the opportunity to make some script changes?"

My new friend was named Terry, and he was a published author. He had written a few novels that had almost made it to the best seller's list, and he had some ideas that would take Phil's train-wreck of a script and turn it into something salvageable.

"Have you discussed any of this with Phil yet?" I asked. I was suddenly becoming optimistic about this project. Terry's script ideas were quite clever and interesting. If Phil allowed the rewrites, I could see myself investing money in this thing.

"Not yet," Terry replied, motioning toward Phil and an attractive middle-aged woman in a skirt-suit, "Phil is currently trying to charm Nancy Griffin into investing in his project. She's already confided to me that she hates everything about the script. She's the wealthiest of all the people Phil invited here tonight. Once she turns him down, Phil's morale will be vulnerably low. Then, I shall swoop in and offer to make things better...if exchange for significant rewrite to his horrible script."

I had a great deal of respect for Terry's plan and gave him an approving nod.

And while Terry and I lingered and anticipated the moment where Nancy would dampen Phil's spirits, we were so engrossed in the interactions between Phil and his potential investor that we utterly failed to notice a tall, statuesque woman as she glided silently towards us with a crystal champagne flute in one hand.

Suddenly a delicious female voice demanded my attention. It was a smoldering purr of a voice, low and seductive. It was the sort of voice that made me think of when Kathleen Turner was a husky-voiced sex symbol, however, Kathleen Turner's voice was never able to bypass the logic sections of my brain and go straight to massaging my brain's limbic system.

This woman's voice was able to do that.

"Terry," the voice said with a seductive purr, "I don't believe I've met your lovely friend. Please introduce us."

I turned to discover the owner of that smoldering purr of a voice.

She reminded me of a Patrick Nagel painting. She was tall, slender, graceful and was a beautiful study in color contrast. Her skin was almost as pale as milk, while her hair was as dark as a moonless night. She had eyes of dark grey and wore custom-tailored black leather. And the leather adhered to her body in ways that seemed designed to put her perfectly sculpted body on display, rather than conceal it.

I rapidly decided that if Nagel had used this woman as a model for his paintings, he failed to capture the total effect of her beauty. The woman in Nagel's paintings was incredibly beautiful, however, she was a pale imitation of the living goddess that had just asked Terry to introduce me.

"Lara," Terry said, as his eyes widened and drank in the beauty of the tall, slender, graceful goddess, "this is Hannah Higgins. Hannah, this is Lara Raith."

"Hannah," Lara purred, and when she said my name it sounded like the sound of silk caressing flawless, bare skin. I had never suspected that the human voice could contain such sexual potency.

"You are quite attractive, Hannah," Lara said, "Have you been cast as one of the actresses in Phil's movie?"

If anyone else had asked me if I had been cast in a train-wreck of a movie like Leather Lesbian Biker Sluts, I would have felt insulted, however, from Lara's magnificent lips, the question didn't seem insulting at all.

I shook my head gently in negation and replied, "I'm not an actress."

Terry then interjected himself into the conversation and added, "She was invited here because she has money and Phil is trying to get her to invest in his new project."

"An investor?" Lara said, and then she favored me with a look that made my heart beat faster and incited a soft, wet pulse in my loins.

For a few seconds the entire weight of Lara's intoxicating gaze was resting entirely on me. That afforded me some time to study the beauty of her seductive mouth and deep artistry of her eyes. Upon closer examination, I discovered that her eyes weren't entirely grey. If you gazed intently into her eyes, you could detect flecks of periwinkle blue.

Her eyes were, alive, alert and aware. Lara had the beauty of youth; however, her eyes were indicative of an intelligence that usually takes a century of more to acquire.

"Every movie I have ever starred in has made profits that are amazing," Lara informed me, "Invest in me and you will be astonished with the benefits that you reap."

My head was swimming and I found myself overwhelmed at Lara's closeness, Lara's scent and Lara's superhuman beauty. I've known many females, and I've bedded thousands of them, however, Lara had a quality about her that inflamed my passions with an intensity I hadn't known in centuries. She aroused my passions and bewitched my senses. I was so intoxicated by her, I could barely concentrate on the words that she was saying.

My throat suddenly felt thick and my chest felt tight. For a few scant seconds I felt incapable of speech. I willed my vocal cords into obedience and tried to goad my mind into forming words that made some sort of sense.

Finally I cleared my throat, took a gulp of my drink and softly replied, "Well Lara, I value your opinion. If you think that it's a wise investment..."

Most of my blood circulation seemed to be going to my lower extremities. Not enough blood was reaching my brain to form the words to finish that sentence, however, Lara didn't seem to be bothered by my inability to articulate my thoughts. She just favored me with an oh so charming smile, linked my arm in hers and walked me over to Phil, so we could discuss how much money I'd be investing in his new movie.

Don't judge me. If you had met her in person, you would have given her anything she wanted. You would have signed over the deed to your house, if she'd asked you to. Attempting to resist her seductive charm was about as easy as attempting to beat back a hurricane with an umbrella and forcing it to go back into the ocean.

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This was back in 1999. I've learned quite a lot about Lara Raith since then.

For starters, Lara Raith isn't exactly human. She's a White Court Vampire.

This means that Lara doesn't age like humans do. She is potentially immortal, and she feeds off the life force of humans.

It's quite fascinating. Lara's extraordinary alluring and erotic appearance is like a camouflage that a predator uses to lure prey in closer so that they may be fed upon. White Court Vampires feed upon the life energy of their victims, and Lara's physical appearance is intensely erotic and stimulating. The mere act of visually examining Lara is enough to make most men (and quite a few women) feverish with libidinous lust and sexual need.

And of course, every kiss, every caress, every intimate embrace and every erotic touch of her tongue or fingertips rouses the libido of her victims and drives their sexual energies to even greater extremes.

And, while they are victims, the mortals Lara feeds upon don't exactly flee from her. They eagerly walk directly into her web and allow her to feed upon them. The touch of her fingertips, the sight of her bare flesh and feeling of her talented lips and tongue upon their skin is more addictive than any drug. Mortals go almost mad with pleasure at her touch and will come back for more time and time again.

Even if they know that it's killing them.

I learned of Lara's true nature while drinking in a place called McAnally's pub. Most major cites (and even some small towns) have a place like McAnally's pub. It's a place that seems to draw in members of the supernatural community like a magnet draws in iron filings. I've never been certain how it works exactly, however, I can usually find such a place within one or two days of entering a new town. It's like the place has a gravitational pull that pulls in beings like shape-shifters, vampires, witches and wizards.

Mac's Pub is where I met Katherine.

Katherine was tall and slender with a build like a sprinter. She had high cheekbones, perfect straight, white teeth and a winning smile. She makes friends easily and, with her extroverted attitude and overt affability, she had utterly won me over as her friend within seconds of our first meeting.

Katherine loved to talk and has lived in Chicago since 1929. As a result, she could and did tell me a great deal about what goes on in Chicago.

You see, despite Katherine's youthful appearance, she's more than one-hundred and forty years old.

Katherine is part human and part something else. She made it quite clear that she wouldn't discuss her father's side of her ancestry and that I shouldn't ask about it. She was quite open and friendly about all other topics; however, her father's side of the family was to remain a closed book.

So, Katherine and I talked endlessly about other topic unrelated to her parentage. This is how I learned about the fact that there was a pack of werewolves in the city that had laid claim to territory around the University of Chicago. I also learned about attacks by Red Court vampires, the existence of a Chicago wizard who had instigated a war between the Red Court Vampires and the White Council of Wizards, and about the fact that Lara Raith, Thomas Raith, and the entire Raith clan were vampires of the White Court.

Katherine warned me to stay away from Lara Raith and all members of her family. She cautioned me that they were all predators. They fed off the emotions of humans and would sometimes feed on them to the point of death. They were also ruthless, masters of manipulation, deception and covert enterprises.

Of course, by the time Katherine had given me this free advice, Lara and I had already become lovers. And the sex was quite good, I mean it was extraordinary. It was like opium covered in chocolate and blessed by the gods.

Knowing that Lara was a White Court Vampire, that fed upon the life energy of her lovers did not deter me from her bed one bit. It was interesting to know her true nature, however, it did nothing to frighten me away. Sex with her was intoxicating and addictive. I wouldn't cease my sexual activities with her, even if I thought they were killing me.

And while humans will eventually die from having sex with a White Court Vampire, my kind are much more resilient than that. You see, I'm not exactly human either.

My exact nature is less easy to categorize; however, when Lara realized that I was not human, she did the best she could to delve into my past and discover what I really am. She has a veritable army of spies, mercenaries, analysts, specialists and corrupt government officials working for her. Give her enough time and she can find out anything about anybody.

I have an Illinois state driver's license, a U.S. passport and other documents that support my identity as Hannah Higgins, American citizen and mortal female. As you may have surmised, this identity is a carefully constructed fiction.

Centuries ago, I was known as Issanja. I was worshipped as a goddess of healing, also as the goddess of the cold, dark waters that existed underneath the ice.

Don't laugh. Thousands of years ago, that was a very important title.

However, gods have fallen upon hard times. We are not what we once were. Once upon a time we were the dominant species on this planet. We ruled the oceans, we ruled the deserts, we ruled the rainforests, we ruled the frozen tundra, we ruled the skies, we ruled the mountains. This planet was ours to use as we pleased.

The gods were immortal and powerful; however, this is not the same thing as being infallible.

The gods had many of the same flaws that mortals have. We were arrogant, we were selfish, and we were prone to fits of irrational violence.

During Neolithic times, there were thousands of gods, and it seemed as if every one of us deemed himself (or herself) the most impressive, most extraordinary and most worthy of all the gods. Many of the gods dreamed of world conquest and having all the lesser gods at their command.

This led to temporary alliances, temporary coalitions and endless wars. And when gods go to war, extraordinary destruction follows.

Many gods died in battle, many of our fortresses and strongholds were destroyed. Our greatest cities were burnt to ash or crushed into powder. Many of our greatest creations were destroyed and lost forever. A vast number of artifacts and items of power were irretrievably lost.

Those of us who survived were still immortal, however, without our cities, our strongholds, our mightiest tools and weapons, we were greatly diminished. We were not what we once were.

At one time the gods could summon hurricanes at will, they could cause volcanos to erupt by uttering a few well-chosen words, they could summon blizzards that would blanket entire continents with snow and ice.

What do you call us now, now that these imposing abilities have been forever stripped from us?

Fallen gods?

Diminished gods?

Humbled gods?

We were so diminished after the wars that we might have all withered and died, however Daskalos revealed to us that the humans might be the key to our continued survival.

In many ways Daskalos was the scholar of the gods. While the rest of the gods were making ultimatums and fighting wars, Daskalos posed intriguing questions and endlessly sought out answers.

Gods and humans are quite different in both our physical makeup and physical needs, however Daskalos discovered that we could have a very symbiotic relationship.

Daskalos discovered that the gods are phages of a sort. When humans feel emotions such as admiration, gratitude, respect and reverence towards us, they create a type of psychic energy that we can feed off. It increases our strength and vitality. Following Daskalos's instructions, we developed a complicated relationship with the humans where we promised the humans protections from famine, disease, foreign invaders and other threats in exchange for the humans worshipping us and teaching their offspring to worship us as well.

When the gods first developed this relationship with the humans, humans were very simple creatures. They were largely nomadic and tribal. Their goals were simple back then, largely limited to survival, finding a mate, breeding and protecting their offspring.

However, that was back in Neolithic times. Humans have become much more complicated since then.

Since then, humans developed their own written languages, they built cities, they learned how to work metal and forge weapons made of iron. They've learned to write their own books and promote their own ideas and build their own empires.

Bit by bit, century by century, the humans decided they didn't need gods anymore. It happened so gradually, most of the gods didn't see it happening, however, humans do not worship us anymore. Our temples have all been destroyed, abandoned or converted to other uses. And a god without worshippers is a greatly diminished creature.

Lara was able to learn some of my secrets by utilizing her army of spies, experts and corrupt government officials, however, there were some blank spots in her knowledge about me, and she wanted to have all of those blank spots filled.

That's when Lara decided to take a much more direct route in obtaining information about me.

I visited Lara at the Raith Family Estate at least once a week. Once upon a time I might have called these visits dates, however, these assignations lacked the casual entertainments and verbal foreplay of a normal date. Whenever I arrived it typically took less than fifteen minutes before we were both naked and deeply engrossed in libidinous pursuits.

Then, there came the day when I arrived at the Raith family estate and Lara broached the subject of my true identity.

Of course, Lara couldn't simply come out and tackle the question straight on. White Court vampires seem to hate being open and direct. The White Court seems to pride itself on games and manipulation.

So, when I arrived at the Raith Estate that day, Lara didn't immediately ask me anything about my true identity and instead greeted me wearing a tight, black dress and a push-up bra that did more to display her prominent cleavage than to conceal it. She was also wearing those insanely high stiletto heels.

It shouldn't be possible for a woman to walk gracefully in heels like that, however, Lara glided over to me in her stiletto heels with elegant grace and a delicious sway of her hips and then pulled me into a kiss.

I melted into the kiss like there wasn't anything else in the entire world that mattered.

Lara kissed me with a skill that few could match. She was gentle and passionate at the same time. Her tongue entered my mouth and probed, yet it was an elegant, graceful probing that elicited a libidinous reaction in my body and caused my nipples to harden and my sex to throb. My heart beat madly in my chest and Lara's arms and fingertips felt like magic everywhere they touched my body.

I wanted to rip that dress off her body right there in the drawing room, and shamelessly nuzzle her round breasts and the delicious curves of her taut, toned abdomen. However, when I tightly gripped the fabric of her dress and broke from our kiss, Lara gently dissuaded me.