Men always had a thing for Lily's feet. They were small and feminine; baring no sign of the torture she inflicted upon them. Every night she bound them in moist cloth to lessen the bruises once they appeared. After a while they would grow faint, leaving the skin there smooth, unblemished, and soft as dove feathers.

As she danced on her feet elegantly across the bare floor of her sparse room, she chanted hymns from the old place, songs about blood and spirits, nightwomen and nightmen, and the transient faeries that nested in the mango groves. They let her remember things from eons ago. It was as close to being home as she could get.

She hadn't eaten in days, her ribs jutted out slightly against her coffee skin. Her meals weren't coming as frequently as they should. Men had been leaving in droves since the first shot at Ft. Sumter. War was costing her fresh food.

Only a few men were left in New Orleans at that point, but they couldn't even be called men. They were boys, sixteen, fifteen, fourteen, no older than babies. Lucky for her, her body hid its age well. Except for her eyes. They looked as if they had seen things, a millennia worth of things. Indeed, they had.

There came a knock at the door.

"Miss Lilith?" Came a masculine voice from just outside the door.

"Who is it?" She called back, pulling on a shabby robe.

"Well," he hesitated, "you don't exactly know me, but you know my friend, Robert Douglas?" she remembered quite well. He was marvelous.

"Oh, yes! He is very, very sweet to me. " She called to him. "The door is open, let yourself in!" She very well could have opened it herself, but she wanted him to present himself, a teaser that made the meal that much more satisfying. He opened the door slowly, cautiously, revealing him to be a boy of no more than sixteen. His voice had already changed and you could see glimpses of adulthood in his height and the size of his hands, however, he still had the rounded chin of an eleven-year-old boy.

A nervous grin played at his lips, as he stepped in to the room. He looked around appraisingly.

"What's a little girl like you doing in a place like this without her parents?" He asked.

"What's a 'man' like you doing, looking to have sex with a 'little girl' like me?" She replied sardonically. She watched satisfied, as his cheeks became a light scarlet, clashing horribly with his corn silk hair.

"I'm almost sixteen, " he said indignantly.

"And I'm nineteen, " she lied easily. She had been, over three thousand years ago.

"Really?" He asked surprised, yet relieved, and maybe even a little excited.

"Didn't Robert tell you all about me?" She asked feigning hurt.

"Yes ma'am, he sure did, " he said quickly, afraid that he had offended her. " But nothing about your age, just that you did things that he ain't ever heard about before," he chuckled good-naturedly. "May I sit?"

"I've been waiting for you to ask," she said, nodding for him to join her. "So what's your name?"

"Porter Gibson, ma'am. My daddy owns the Gibson plantation about a mile north of here, you may have heard of it? We're the largest cotton plantation east of the Mississippi," he added, his voice overflowing with hubris.

"You don't say?" She replied, touching his neck lightly with her fingertips, feeling the pulse there. So much blood he had, so much blood to be drained from him. She smiled demurely at Porter, hoping she hid the bloodlust that no doubt showed on her face.

"You know ma'am-"

"Porter, do I look like your mother?" She asked. He gave her a long look, his eyes finally coming to rest on her naked shoulder, where the robe had slid off.

"You most certainly do not," his voice taking on a huskier tone.

"Then stop calling me 'ma'am'!" She said laughing pushing him lightly. He tumbled over in mock hurt. He was now splayed across her small bed, a compromising position for him, but a perfect one for her. She got on top of him, her small hands pining his bulky shoulders to the bed. She leaned in slowly, allowing her robe to fall open, exposing her body. Her ribs may have been sticking out, but her breasts were able to hide them effectively.

"C-can I kiss you-u-u-u?" Porter stammered as he looked up at Lilith's face.

"You don't even have to ask," she answered back smiling with coy, childish grin. "Kiss me anywhere you please."

So, he did. He grabbed Lilith gently, but firmly, turning her over and pining her to the bed. He trailed kisses over her collarbone and down the valley of her breasts and her stomach. He traced wide circles in between her exposed thighs. Hmm, not bad, she thought to herself as he began to take off his shirt, exposing the pale flesh underneath. He had little baby fat to speak of, rather he was muscular, his pale skin betraying the fact that he did indeed work hard on the plantation. Suddenly, he gazed at Lilith with rapt concentration and concern. It was if he saw a glimpse of something in her stare that troubled him. She cursed her expressive eyes and their insistence on showing off her insidious nature.

"Lilith, is there something wrong? I don't want to anything that makes you uncomfortable." He grabbed her hand gently, stroking it with his calloused thumb. Something seems to be troubling you, and it's got me worried." He continued to gaze in her, as if seeing the centuries of pain and hurt she had been through.

"Nothing at all, why do you say that?" She quickly composed her face into a mask, " The only thing that's troubling me is the fact that I've been waiting for you to finish ravishing me for, what, the pass three minutes?" She giggled, hoping she had again lulled him into a false sense of security. She hadn't.

Porter pulled Lilith onto his lap, wrapping his one arm around her waist, using the other to stroke her face. "Its just that, you look like you seen everything that's ever happened in the world, and everything that's ever gonna happen, and well, it don't look good. Don't look good at all."

This little small town farm boy was a little too perceptive for his own good, but he struck a chord within her somewhere, and she melted a little. For what she had to do next, she felt a twinge of regret, but not enough to stop her from doing what she had to do. He opened his mouth to say more, but she hushed him with a kiss. As she kissed him more passionately, her fangs jutted out from her gums. She grabbed him roughly and threw him against the bed, pining him with ever growing strength. He looked up at excitedly until he saw her fangs. As Porter opened his mouth to scream, Lilith lunged for his throat, silencing him forever more.