The Limits of my Ability

The triple release is only there to keep up our schedule, one chap every two weeks...I'm not afraid of my readers, they are perfectly reasonable people who are very handsome and intelligent....put down that knife, Billy.

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"Neat" - The Crimson F*cker.

… … … … … … … … … … …

Unlife was full of surprises.

John had planned to spend the last moments of the night, now extended thanks to his evolution, to get in some last-minute briefings.

If Copperhead was to work for him, then he ought to make her a whole new identity, modify her appearance enough for her to stand by his side without rousing suspicion, maybe even fake her death to get rid of possible issues.

People who could make it happen were plentiful, and for someone with as many former-criminals as his new employees, finding someone more or less reliable was an easy task.

He would also need to lighten the now deceased Hungry of his last possessions, wasting precious resources wasn't his way after all.

Then maybe get some paperwork done...bloody hell was his unlife boring, he really should get a personal assistant to deal with this paper-pushing bullshit.

Larissa, however, had something different in mind.

"Bubs, you should probably—" He started addressing his first ghoul, but couldn't finish his sentence as the assassin who just got a taste of power quite literally jumped at him.

To say that he was surprised was an understatement, both he and Reginald were about to get rid of the traitorous wench when her lips captured his own, changing the whole situation in one simple gesture.

"Ehm?" He groaned, but she was dead set on trying to asphyxiate a vampire, an exercise in futility if there ever was one, she should know better after their little fight.

Her long, nimble leg slid around his waist and locked themselves on his back, keeping her in place as if he was foolish enough to try and stop her.

No, the correct course of action was tasting her lips and enjoying her toned muscles and feeling her flesh pressing against him, teasing him with every move.

If there ever was a time to use the Blush of Life, it was this one.

His hands reached out for her waist, sliding through the skin-tight fabric and seeking her bare flesh, his finger pressed on her back dimples and made her moan against his lips.

Yet despite his 'fierce resistance' the killer wasn't about to abandon her target, her tongue brushing against his lips, trying to overcome him.

*clang*

He did not know when or how, but she somehow managed to remove those sharp, venomous metal claws attached to her wrists.

Larissa casually dropped them on the floor, and now used her barely less lethal hands to grab the back of his head and pull him even closer.

It was brutish, violent and betrayed an utter lack of experience.

John absolutely loved it.

Overcoming his initial surprise, the vampire answered in kind, pulling at her flesh with barely enough restraint to avoid hurting her.

He fought her kiss for kiss, no quarters were given.

John lightly bit her lips, tasting the sweet aroma of her meta-human blood, tasting the result of years of training and suffering, years spent perfecting the dreadful art of murder for the benefit of people who saw her as nothing but a weapon to be used and discarded as they saw fit.

Blood was lives, and through her blood, through his own increased blood potency, he enjoyed a glimpse of things a fledgling's immature palette could hardly register.

*Moan*

She whimpered against his lips, the pleasure and pain of the bite reminding her of why this John Harker—why this son of a bruja was so dangerous.

One moan after the other, their kiss became something more, something greater, more intense.

"Err, I think I better get going, boss," Reginald said, looking more amused than disturbed by his master and fellow ghoul's proclivities, "I'll make sure Hungry's place gets looted and the rest of his stash houses emptied before someone reports the murder, I'll also work out a deal with the ID guy for your lady friend."

"Thank you, Bubbles," John tried to say, but it came out more like a succession of groans and sounds so wet even Orochimaru would tell them to get a room.

Reginald left, laughing at his master's way with the ladies, but a bit cautious about whether or not hooking up with girls who tried to kill him would become a habit.

Mah, at least John kept things interesting.

It sure beat working at Walmart. 

"Bye, Regie!" John tried to say, raising a hand to wave at him, but it sadly came out as even more unholy sounds, and said hand was promptly stolen by Copperhead and guided to a place where it could be much, much more useful.

Yes, unlife could indeed be the best thing ever.

…

The next night, John woke up still holding the naked assassin, fondly remembering their many valiant battles.

They fought in the living room for a while, at first neither of them winning to lose ground, no matter the casualties.

However, the skirmish soon moved to the bedroom where they could be much wilder, giving in to their lusts—lust for battle of course.

Then they fought in the kitchen.

...and to the bathroom again for a final stand that started under the shower and only ended with them still holding on to each other in bed, one of them fainting due to exhaustion and a severe lack of blood, the other because he spent hours resisting the call of torpor during the day.

Something he couldn't even imagine doing before his maturation. 

Larissa's body was covered in bite marks which the small amount of blood she ingested was already healing, many more were made and disappeared as he licked them close.

This kind of pleasurable struggle would bring madness if done to his human blood dolls, but she took it valiantly, nay she initiated most of it herself.

Truly an admirable warrior.

'Still, I better let her rest,' He thought, covering her naked body with a blanket before pausing 'Wait...would she feel bad if I left her like this?'

He thought about it, wondering if he was in fact the arsehole, before coming to the conclusion that if he came back before she could wake up and ate her out while having prepared some breakfast for her, then she couldn't possibly be dissatisfied with his behaviour.

A foolproof plan indeed.

With what is left of his morality and standing as a gentleman secured, he left the room and closed the door, letting the woman paid to kill him rest after a very busy day.

There was no way keeping her around would come back to bite him, right? He was the one who did the biting, after all.

'Whatever,' John thought, 'Tomorrow's problems are for tomorrow me, today's issues are plentiful enough as it is.'

Beyond the quotidian professional shit-eating known as paperwork, he still needed to figure out exactly what his new level of maturity as a neonate vampire meant, understand the changes in the system interface and how it worked exactly, and see what he could do with blood manipulation, the whole guiding spilled blood from the air into his throat was a crude way of doing things, only useful because he was too fundamentally opposed to sinking his teeth onto the necks of the unwashed masses.

In the words of the noble Bubbles, that shit is gay.

'It's about time I tested the limits of my ability,' Was his ultimate conclusion.

Now there was no need to slaughter his whole extended family to do that, but some parts might be more complicated than others.

Testing his speed would be rather straightforward, just get a Bubbles with a timer and measure how fast he could cross a certain distance with more or less bloodbuff boosting him, compare it to the slightly enhanced ghoul and the olympic runners and he should have a solid idea of where he stands in the totem pole.

Lifting strength would work the same way, though his striking power would be more complicated, he would need to fight the hardest material he could physically destroy.

'What's next? Durability and regeneration...guess I'll just ask Bubbles to shoot me.' He thought, and he meant every word.

Not knowing what he could do was a risk he was no longer willing to take.

Still, he felt a bit strange.

It might be due to the new heights he has reached, the growth in his abilities, the way his skin felt tougher, his muscles stronger, his body so much more resilient and powerful.

Even his abilities like presence or dominate felt stronger somehow, as if he could affect people on a deeper level, not just the usual awe, intimidation or calming effect.

Or those vague one word orders limited to a single target, which he might resist or misinterpret.

And yet there was no change in the system interface.

Even his reserves felt much deeper than what the system told him…

*sigh*

'No use wasting my time thinking about it, I better call Reginald and prepare my little physical examination…' He thought, cracking his neck as he reached out for his pager.