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If you're going to continue to pass as a cabin boy than you need to stick with ass buggerers." He turned around. "You look like a fish, your mouth is opening and closing but no words are coming out. Your fangs are showing too. And not just the ones we have."

I closed my mouth, which had indeed been flapping in the breeze while I struggled for a crushing reply. That reply, of course, occurred to me about 5 weeks later, by which time it was pretty useless. Instead, I hammered out an agreement with him on how to contact him and how I was going to get paid. He gave probably more than he intended, being, I suspected, a bit embarrassed by his remarks.

I snooped, I pried. I sat on Captain Ramirez's lap, wiggled some and still managed to escape being bent over the chests in his cabin. He had recently moved ashore and received a promotion. He was now in charge of arranging for the resupplying of ships. That didn't keep him too busy. I was able to pick up a lot of information and pass it to Robert.

The climax began one evening I woke up to discover the harbor was full of ships. The combined French and Spanish fleet had anchored. I was sure Robert was able to see that himself so I didn't rush to him with the information. Instead I worked my usual haunts. I gathered what I could from the crowds of sailors before I slipped away to Robert's rooms.

"What do you have, Bridget?"

"The fleet is in sorry condition, Robert. The ships have suffered a lot of storm damage from their trek to the West Indies and then to the Channel. The crews are riddled with sickness. Even with this last voyage, Admiral Villeneuve is aware the state of training is very poor and his ships are no match for the British fleet. Still, from what I understand, he would give battle if cornered. He would have no choice. Napoleon apparently believes he can win a sea battle."

Robert snorted. "Thank you Bridget. Keep watching. And be careful."

The night of October 20th was the breaking point. Too absorbed in gathering information, I allowed myself to end up alone with Captain Ramirez. I had been plying him with wine in an attempt to loosen his tongue. He had been plying me with brandy in an attempt to loosen my britches. Tipsy or not, when I made one more attempt to avoid him, he turned angry.

"You cock teaser. I've had enough of your ways. You've been leading me on for months. Well, tonight I will have that little ass of yours." He back-handed me across the face, with a force and now unsuppressed lust that even stunned me for an instant. Then he was on me, attempting to tear off my clothes and free himself from his britches. He shoved his raging cock between my ass cheeks and ground it savagely against me, meanwhile pounding my head against the wall and grunting incoherently.

I almost, almost, gave in. I've never been a prick tease and I HAD really come on to him a lot. But the final line is; I don't like being raped. It angers me. And at a certain point, my anger overcomes me. I lost control of myself.

With one thrust of my arms I threw him across the room. I should have fled then. But I was overcome with rage and I launched myself on him in full vampire fury. He didn't even have time to scream before I had sunk my fangs in his neck. Before I could regain the slightest semblance of self control, he was dead.

I didn't often kill, not like that. Over 400 years of unlife, I killed more than I want to remember, but generally I didn't take pleasure in it. Under other circumstances, I might have let the guilt wash over me and paralyze my actions. Tonight I couldn't afford that luxury. I scampered to get Ramirez's body covered and the floor cleaned up. Before I lowered his body through the window I went to darken the room. My eyes fell on the papers on his desk and I rapidly read through them before snuffing the lanterns.

After winding a handy piece of chain-shot around the body and then dropping it off the end of a quiet pier, I hurried to Robert's. I knocked frantically on the door until he opened it, allowing me to stagger inside.

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