Lorelei

The dogs were cowed of course; she had enough mesmer to keep them submissive and quiet as she poured herself through the fence and floated to the far side of the kennel master's office. The night was slightly foggy, which helped, and Lorelei gave herself a moment to hover in the shadows before solidifying.

She shook her hair loose, letting it cascade down to cover herself and sighed. Nudity was the one factor none of the legends had ever gotten right, and although she didn't feel the cold, it was still embarrassing. Capes, Lorelei thought with a mental sigh. No wonder they were popular with my kind.

Hogan was approaching; she sensed him before he turned the corner and looked towards the kennels. For a moment they stared at each other, and then Hogan worked his way along the side of the barrack, giving the water tower a wide berth until he reached her, his gaze bemused.

"Nice outfit," came his stunned whisper. "Are you insane?"

"Sometimes I wonder myself," she replied tartly. "Believe me if I could have dressed for the occasion I would have, but clothes don't stay on when I . . . shift."

He was still staring, and Lorelei felt her anger flare. She reached up to catch his chin, bringing his gaze back to her eyes. "Pay attention!"

"Oh I am, believe me," Hogan replied, but he focused on her face, his expression serious.

Lorelei took a breath. "Do you know what I am?"

He pursed his mouth. "Going on a guess-not human."

"Correct. I'm one of the unsterblich."

Hogan nodded. "Bingo. Now a few things make sense. Which kind?"

Lorelei gave him an open-lipped smile, flashing her dainty fangs at him. He flinched but didn't step back, which impressed her; not many people had that kind of self-control.

"When you said your story would take most of the night you weren't kidding," Hogan finally muttered. "Vampire. Damn. I haven't met one of you in years."

"Not many in America," Lorelei agreed. "And now, not as many in Europe either, thanks to that monster and his henchmen in Berlin."

She watched Hogan nod before he spoke. "So what the hell are you doing here? Your file says you're originally from Switzerland which to my way of thinking is where you ought to be instead of filling out paperwork here in Nazi central."

"I made a promise," Lorelei sighed, leaning back against the wall. "And as long as I am able to keep it, I will."

She watched Hogan consider that a moment before he shifted to lean his own frame against the wall as well. "There's a war on," he pointed out. "It's a good excuse to get out of that, you know."

Lorelei gave him a sidelong glance. "I've been through a number of them already, Colonel; I'm fairly good at surviving. At the moment I have sanctuary, a source of nourishment, and a job. Those are all I need to get through this war."

Hogan snorted. "You could lose any one of those on any given night and we both know it. A bombing, a raid by the Gestapo and poof! All gone, Lorelei. Are you sure this promise of yours is worth it? Because I know what will happen to you if you get caught." His expression grew haggard for a moment. "I've seen it happen enough to people who aren't supernatural."

She didn't doubt him; he had the look of a man who had made hard decisions.

"I'm sure you have," Lorelei agreed. "But I have to keep this one . . . Robert. So now that you know what I am, I need to know I can trust you to keep my secret."

His pulse was steady but Lorelei could sense his tension. Hogan scowled. "Looks like I'm going to have to," he sighed harshly. "Who else knows?"

"The town butcher," Lorelei replied. "His son and daughter too. There may be a few other neighbors and acquaintances who suspect but they haven't said anything."

"How long have you been in Hammelburg?"

Lorelei thought back for a moment, mentally counting back. "Fifteen years now, give or take a few. I remember when this camp was first built. A school once stood here."

"Huh," was all Hogan replied. Neither of them said anything for a moment and in the quiet Lorelei heard the heavy footsteps of Sergeant Schultz on patrol. They both waited until he lumbered his way off towards the other side of camp before she spoke again.

"I can't force you to keep this a secret but I can tell you that not all your men will be able to deal with it," she murmured to Hogan. "LeBeau and Newkirk are European-they'll understand a bit better than your American compatriots."

Hogan nodded. "Yeah, LeBeau will probably be the first to offer you his neck; go easy on him, he's only appetizer-sized."

Lorelei snickered. "The offer is kind but no. I'm avoiding necks these days, along with everything else."

"What about Klink?" Hogan asked.

Lorelei hesitated before answering. "He's harmless, yes?"

"He's getting a crush on you," Hogan responded sharply. "And while I can work with that, we need to keep him here. I'm not up to breaking in a new Kommandant anytime soon."

"Harmless," Lorelei repeated. "He's lonely and I . . . understand how that feels."

Someone hooted like an owl; Lorelei smirked. "I think our time is up. Can I trust you, Colonel Hogan?"

Slowly Hogan nodded. He glanced in every direction before looking back at her. "Looks like I'm going to have to trust you too, Frau Kovac."

Lorelei held his gaze and let herself dissolve into smoke, gratified at his bemused expression.

Hogan

"She's a what?" Carter burst out, clapping his mittens over his mouth and dropping his voice to a whisper. "You're kidding, right colonel?"

"Nope," Hogan replied, remembering her disappearing act of the night before.

"It fits," LeBeau nodded sagely. "The gloves, the paleness. But she must be old, mon colonel, to be able to tolerate sunlight."

"You're not . . . afraid of her?" Carter demanded incredulously.

LeBeau rolled his eyes. "Why should I be?"

Newkirk shook his head. "Yanks. Look, has the good Frau ever threatened you, Carter? Has she started peppering your collar, mate?"

"No," Carter mumbled. Hogan felt sorry for him but understood. Not a lot of vampires chose the Midwest.

"There you go. She's got some private source for her tipple and it ain't you, so just treat her like a lady and you'll be all right. Fangers might be a little different from us but not enough to matter. Had a landlord who was one ages back and he was a good bloke."

LeBeau gave a nod. "My aunt dated one but they couldn't make it work."

"Different diets?" Carter guessed timidly.

"Mostly it was because Tante Janelle was already married," LeBeau admitted. "We LeBeaus have an excess of passion. It's a French thing."

"The point is that while she's . . . different, she's definitely on our side," Hogan murmured. "Which is still to our advantage."

"Man," Kinchloe gave a shake of his head. "I don't know about a vampire being in Klink's front office, though."

"Well you can't tell just by looking at her," Carter pointed out. "I mean I didn't know."

"True," Hogan admitted. "She slipped under our radar but then again she's been doing this a while. Look, for the time being we roll with it."

"Colonel, do we pass the word along?" Kinch asked. "To London?"

Hogan hesitated. "Let's keep it under our hats for now," he sighed. "It's her business, not ours."

Everyone nodded but Kinchloe, who took a deep breath. "Colonel? You realize if word ever gets out, Frau Kovac's gonna be in a Gestapo car headed to Poland faster than you can say 'medical experiment,' right?"

"I do. So does she," Hogan replied grimly. "But we all need someone in that office that we can trust, and she's already in place. For the moment, we keep it that way."

The matter settled, Hogan strolled out into the overcast day, considering the information they'd all just received for their next assignment. On the surface, the simple courier job of moving a trunk full of scientific research looked to be a piece of cake, but Hogan suspected their might be more to it, especially since nobody was travelling with the trunk. He'd tried getting more intel but none was forthcoming from London aside from the assurance that the entire matter was urgent.

So now it was a matter of getting more than one trunk into the camp, and that meant a possible theatric production . . . still musing over the matter, Hogan fell into step along with Schultz, who gave a little grunt of welcome.

"Ever see a cabaret?"

Schultz rolled his eyes appreciatively. "Colonel Hogan, please! Do you think I'm the sort of man who would spend an evening drinking schnapps and watching young frauleins prancing around in nearly nothing?"

"Yes," Hogan told him, amused at how the older man's ears went red.

"Pffft, yes well what man wouldn't, given the chance," Schultz sighed. "Those were the days."

"I bet," Hogan grinned. Teasing Schultz was fun, mostly because while he'd bluster a lot of the time, every now and then he gave back as good as he got. As Germans went, Schultz was harmless. "Maybe we could stage one here. You know, just for fun."

Schultz gave a snort. "Un-less you are planning a drrrrrag show, I doubt it will work. Mädchen are the whole point."

"Along with the booze," Hogan agreed.

"Ja," Schultz sighed. "Drinks unt damen. Now I am depressed, Colonel."

"But I haven't even mentioned my idea," Hogan pressed, feeling mischievous. "You'll love it!"

This was his forte and he relished it. Hogan loved working on the fly; loved figuring out how to play the con in just the right way to get the job done and have a good time doing it. Luck was a part of it, but much more rested on knowing human nature.

"I am not listening," Schultz informed him. "Not a word. Will there be schnapps?"

"Does Dusseldorf have altbier? Trust me Schultz, I have a plan."

"Now I'm worried."