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and blood hanging from her teeth. The whore lies convulsing, struggling as the bites penetrate deeper, ripping and shredding, faster and faster, on her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her ass, all the tender areas. Piercing and penetrating. Sucking sounds filter up to her dull hearing.
    Before everything goes dark, she sees: Terence and Edward biting down into her breasts, their mouths ringed with blood. Terence’s gaze meets hers. He smiles, fangs bright in a sea of crimson. One drop of her blood drips from his chin. And then, with a grunt, he lowers his head again, and rips her nipple off with his teeth. He teases the nipple with his teeth, playing with it, and then suddenly it’s gone.
    The whore closes her eyes, shuddering and surrendering. She does not have enough sense to wonder why the cold bodies have suddenly become hot.
    *
    The face above Elise’s is little more than a mask, white shapes in all the right places, backlit by the streetlight filtering in through the van’s windows. It’s how she gets through it, her commerce. She makes her clients inhuman, things that thrust, grunt, and groan above her. As much as she can, Elise goes elsewhere.
    The man pants, squeezing her breast with one hand as he thrusts within her. Elise lies with her arms at her sides. Immobile, she tries to discern the color of the shag carpeting that covers the interior of the van, making it cave-like and muffling the man’s grunts. “That’s it, baby. Fuck me hard. Harder. Ooooo….you got such a big cock. Shove it in deep. Make mama feel good.” Elise repeats the words, hoping their crudeness will have the desired effect: to end this little session as quickly as possible. She doesn’t even have to put much emotion behind these porno-quality speeches. Just saying “fuck” and “cock” and “pussy” is often enough to drive them over the edge. And then they will be disgusted with themselves and her and want to dump her as quickly as possible. That’s just fine with Elise.
    He stops and stiffens. He stares down at her. Elise bites her lips, tasting blood, as he comes.
    In an instant, he has pulled out of her. He tugs off the condom and flings it on the floor. He is breathing heavily, and his hairy back is matted with sweat. He crawls to where his pants lie and digs in the pockets.
    “Here.” Tossing two twenties on her chest, he leans back and lights a cigarette, the acrid burn of the match filling the air. He settles against the carpeted wall, panting still. He smokes for a moment, then looks over at her. “Don’t you have somewhere else you gotta go?” He laughs, but there’s no mirth in it. “Another date?”
    The act has taken no more than ten minutes, yet the man glistens with sweat, his fat hairy belly covered with slick. Elise feels soiled, but scoops up the damp money from her breasts and sits up.
    She struggles into her clothes; zippers catch, nylons run, her shirt gets stuck as she pulls it over her head. Sheepishly, she grins at the man, her lover, her partner in sin and crime.
    He glares at her.
    “That was nice,” she says with little emotion and even less veracity.
    “Just get the fuck out.”
    Elise scrambles backward, like an animal out of a hole, from the van. The night surrounds her. Cold. Forty bucks.
    *
    The three lie together on the bed. The carcass lies alone, by the fire. It has been almost completely drained of blood and much of its flesh has been ripped from the bone. It is barely recognizable as human. In the early morning, before day’s cruel light intrudes, they will rip the carcass further apart and will feed it to the fire. The smell of roasting meat will send them off to sweet dreams.
    Edward moves close to Terence and snuggles against him. When he encounters no resistance, he puts his head on Terence’s chest.
    Terence turns away. “Get the fuck off, fancy man.”
    “Sorry,” Edward whispers into the darkness, turning his back away from Terence.
    “You should know by now I’m not