Carmilla and Mircalla had finally made it back to the manor. Between Artemis Lyall's attack and the lovemaking they'd enjoyed afterwards, it was little surprise that the matriarch and her consort were completely naked.
Mircalla plopped exhaustedly into her coffin. "What a night! Who would have thought we'd be attacked by a werewolf on our stroll?"
Carmilla stretched, causing her sizable alabaster breasts to bounce. "Certainly not me. I never thought Artemis would go against the treaties her pack negotiated with me so many decades ago. She must feel very strongly about Selena and Tatiana being friends."
"I don't see how it should be her business," said Mircalla. "Selena isn't a child anymore. If she wants to befriend a vampire, what of it?"
"Good luck getting that hairy wild woman to see things so reasonably," sighed Carmilla. "I'm afraid it just isn't in her feral character."
Mircalla giggled musically. "You know, she actually kind of looks like Rasputin, minus most of the beard."
"You're quite right, dear heart," Carmilla agreed. "I shall never understand how that man is a vampire and not a werebeast."
"I've heard a rumor that he was a werewolf shaman who got himself turned into a vampire," Mircalla commented. "Makes as much sense as anything else, I suppose."
The phone suddenly rang. Carmilla crossed the room and answered the ancient rotary dial phone she'd been holding onto since the 1930s. "Hello?"
"Hi, it's Yomiel," said the melodious voice on the other end. "The angel."
"Ah, I assume this is about my adjusting of your roommate's... preferences," said Carmilla. "I hope you're satisfied with the result."
"Absolutely," Yomiel answered. "We're actually engaged now."
"Congratulations," Carmilla smiled.
"Thanks," said Yomiel, "but that's not what I'm calling to talk about."
"Then what is it?" asked Carmilla.
"It's about Tori Vordenburg," said Yomiel. "She's planning to pay another visit to Stokerville soon."
"Yes, my two seers have been picking up on that," said Carmilla. "What I'd like to know is what she wants. As much as Tori vexes me, I will say that she never comes to pester us without a reason of some kind."
"It's about someone named Beck Hamilton," answered Yomiel. "They appear to be a relative of Tori's, and their mother suspects something supernatural going on in Beck's life. They've been putting on muscle mass, getting hairy, and staying out late every night. They also appear to have somehow managed to—ahem—ejaculate on a mirror despite having been assigned female at birth. At the same time, Mrs. Hamilton swears her child was furry for the split second the door was opening. Tori'll want to know if you're responsible."
"Let me put it this way, Yomiel," said Carmilla. "I know what's happening to Beck, but I don't feel that I can in good conscience disclose it until I've asked Beck if they're ready to share it. I will say, however, that they're happy the way they are."
"And that's all?" Yomiel asked disappointedly.
"Indeed," Carmilla said.
"Be that way if you like," sighed Yomiel. "Tori'd rip my wings out if she thought for a second that I'd tipped you off, but I just hoped I could find the truth the peaceful way. Deal with Tori Vordenburg any way you like, I guess. Well, bye."
Carmilla sighed as she hung up. "That was Yomiel. She called to tell me about Tori Vordenburg. Apparently this little visit is all about Beck's transformation."
"Good thing they'll be on their way to Japan the day after tomorrow," Mircalla smiled. "That should deflect Tori's attention away from our clan after a while."
Carmilla slipped into Mircalla's coffin and kissed her, their nude bodies sensually pressed against each other. "That's my cheerful, spirited wife! Yes, that is very good news for our clan. Not so good for the yokai, but definitely for us."