Janet opened the car door. 'She's making for Lambeth Bridge. It'll be quicker on foot.'
Brasher nodded agreement and pulled out his radio.
'Control — Brasher here. Get someone to block off the south side of Lambeth Bridge. I'm in pursuit on foot with DS Cooper, north of the Embankment. We need back-up. Fast!'
Brasher stowed his radio away and set off at a jog behind Janet. As they turned on to the bridge they saw a police car pull across the road at the far end. Janet slowed to a walk and Brasher caught her up.
'Can you see her?' he panted as he bent over and sucked air into his heaving lungs.
Janet shook her head. 'She must be on the bridge. She didn't have time to get completely across.'
A police car pulled up beside them and the driver leaned out of the window.
'What you want me to do, Guv?' he asked.
Janet answered. 'One of you stay here and divert the traffic. The other clear the bridge. Now!' she ordered.
The driver swung the car sideways, effectively blocking off that end of the bridge. Brasher and Janet took opposite sides of the road and walked slowly towards the patrol cars at the far end. Brasher was the first to spot the hunted woman. She was learning elegantly against one of the suspension struts of the antique viaduct, the suspicion of a smile on her lips.
'Okay, Miss,' Brasher said reassuringly. 'Just come down off there and let's talk. I'm sure we can sort something out.'
Hisako swung around one of the stanchions and landed on the side wall with a peal of laughter, as if it were all a game.
'Of course we can, Inspector. You'll find me a nice warm isolation cell where I can become a clinical curiosity for every half-baked doctor with a theory and a fascination with Jekyll and Hyde. Thanks but no thanks, Inspector.'
Hisako hunched down on her knees so that her head was almost at the same level as Brasher's. Her eyes appeared to have become enormous. The inspector had an overwhelming desire to let himself float down into their dark depths.
'Come on, Inspector. Come to me,' Hisako whispered.
Brasher's reason told him to keep a safe distance between them, but his will was not strong enough. He took a faltering step towards the woman.
'That's right, don't fight it, you know you want me. Quick, give me your hand.' Her voice was a soft erotic caress. Brasher was a spectator as his hand reached out to the beautiful temptress crouched naked on the parapet. Their fingers were almost touching. Brasher made one last supreme effort to control his action, but Hisako's will was too strong.
He heard Janet's voice call out to him to stop, but it meant nothing. He had to be with Hisako.
Suddenly there was a pounding of feet and he was thrown violently aside.
Hisako saw Janet coming and tried to move into a more secure position on the narrow parapet. The policewoman had nothing left to lose. She knew with a terrible certainty that within hours she would fall victim to all the ills that Hisako was able to release and that knowledge drove her on.
She hurled herself at the ogress on the parapet, wrapped her arms around the other woman's legs.
Hisako tried to brace herself, but the force of the impact of Janet's hurtling body was too much for even her superior strength to withstand. For a moment they teetered on the edge of the bridge and then, almost in slow motion, they toppled backwards.
Brasher snapped out of the trance he was in and ran to the bridge, too late to save either woman.
He could only stand and watch as they plunged down into the dark, swirling waters of the Thames below.
The police searched the river and its banks for days, but they never recovered the bodies of either Janet Cooper or the mysterious Hisako San.
Butternut and Blood
Kathryn Ptacek
Kathryn Ptacek has sold more than 200 stories, reviews and essays. Her recent publication credits include tales in Canadian Fiction Magazine, Northern Horror, Grotesques: A Bestiary and two stories in Barnes & Noble's 100 Crafty Little Cat Stories. She also edits the Gila Queen's Guide to Markets, a market newsletter that goes to writers, artists, editors and agents throughout the world .
'Vampires in the American Civil War?' asks the author. 'A natural, if you ask me. The War Between the States proved one of the bloodiest conflicts known to man, and what better place to find a lamia who preys upon young men?
' My novel , Blood Autumn, marked the first appearance of a lamia sister (there are many in this lethal family), and then she and another sister played instrumental roles in the prequel , In Silence Sealed (the true story of what happened to Byron, Keats and Shelley). Different sisters have also surfaced in numerous short stories, and I'm sure other historical tales of their deadly deeds will be unearthed from time to time .'
The first saw her on the autumn night when the temperature plunged towards freezing, and the stink of smoke combined with that of dying leaves and dying men.
John Francis Foster had himself been wounded just three days ago in battle, and after lying a full day and a chill rainy night on the blood-soaked field there were not enough able-bodied men to collect the wounded and dying — he had finally been located and brought in.
The first evening there in the relative comfort of the hospital tent Foster had done nothing but sleep and
