Act One Chapter Five - Temptation

The drive from Blacksburg to Tidewater was largely uneventful. They left immediately after dark and made their way as a convoy across I-64. It was a five hour drive, quiet and easy, which made Michael happy. The last thing he wanted was some sort of incident along the way, particularly one that slowed their progress.

As they hit Richmond, Michael grew tense. While his intent was to merely pass through without stopping, Michael doubted Prince Guy would much care. The Daeva Prince had tried once unsuccessfully to assassinate Michael and would probably relish the opportunity to do so again.

“Mitch, no stopping.” Said Michael into his cell phone. “Pass the word.”

“Worried about the fop?” teased Mitch in return. “No worries. I’ll let the others know.”

“You go to challenge a far more powerful Prince and you’re nervous about Guy?” asked Julia, who was Michael’s passenger in his Ford Falcon coupe.

“I don’t need the distraction.” Said Michael firmly. “Guy is a tangent, an annoyance, a peripheral issue. Max is my main target. That’s the difference.”

Julia fell quiet for a few moments, but then spoke again. “Why did you turn Corwin?” she asked.

Michael actually welcomed the distraction of this conversation, although he wondered where Julia was going with it. “I needed someone to mind the store in Blacksburg. Wasn’t that obvious?”

“You had someone. You had a kindred childe already who could do that. Why didn’t you choose me?”

“I told you that too. I need you with me here.”

“Michael, you know I’m next to useless when it comes to this sort of thing. I ambushed you and failed. I tried to protect Sarah from the hunters and failed. I go toe-to-toe with Rebecca and got staked in less than a heartbeat. I’m pathetic as a combatant. I could better serve you elsewhere. Here, I’m just going to be in the way.”

Michael admitted to himself she had a point. Of all his minions, Julia had proven the least competent in a stand-up fight, but he remembered that wasn’t really the reason he’d embraced her. He’d made her kindred because she was a hunter and knew their ways. It occurred to him that those were skills he still needed.

“Fair enough.” Michael conceded. “You’re not the best fighter in the world. That can be remedied however and perhaps that’s something we should work on. What I really need from you, now as before, is this.” He reached over and gave her a playful tap on her forehead. “I need your mind, your experience, your knowledge of hunter tactics and techniques.”

“You’re not fighting hunters, you’re going up against Prince Maximilian.”

“Ah, while that’s all true, let’s consider a few things. Max has stacked the Primogen council with sycophants and weaklings, much as Lazarus did before him. Outside of Francois, there’s not a single vampire who’s even halfway decent with sword or gun.”

“Damian.” Corrected Julia.

“Ah, but Damian much prefers to use his minions than to put himself in the line of fire. Which leads to my point. Max won’t fight me. He’ll send Francois and I don’t believe that Francois will choose Max’s capricious laws over the debt he owes me for his life. So Max is going to have to choose another option to defeat me. Mafia thugs? Foreign mercenaries? Damian’s minions? Regardless, it’ll be mortals. And that’s what I need you for. To sniff out his plot before it blindsides us.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

“I have every confidence in you. Just as I do in Terra to find Sarah. Just as I do in Angelica to take care of our walking wounded. Boar and Mitch in a fight. The only one I brought along primarily for my own amusement is Sammy and even she packs a decent punch with her police training. There’s not a one of you that’s useless. I need you all, including you.”

Julia smiled weakly. “Thanks.” She mumbled, as if not entirely convinced.

Michael sighed in mild frustration. “I think I know the real problem.” He reached under her chin and turned her head to look at him. “I’ve been neglectful. All of my women love me with a passion they can’t control. While I’ve tried to be fair and equitable in my affections, I get the feeling you feel you’ve been getting the short end of things.”

“You make no secret that you have favorites.” Critiqued Julia. “And I’m not one of them. Sammy and Donna are. Rhea, Angelica, and Terra have found comfort with others: Corwin, Boar, Mitch. But not me. I’m kindred, which means you can’t feed from me and the others don’t trust me. They’re afraid I’ll lose control at some point and suck them dry. So I’m left with whatever attentions some random flighty college students will offer.”

Michael nodded. “I will try to do better.” He pledged. “That and I think you and Virgil would do well to get to know one another better.”

“Virgil? The manager at Nightstyles?”

“The very same. He has a thing for ladies with a big more meat on their bones.” Michael reached down and gave Julia’s muffin top a playful squeeze.

“He’s not you.”

“But you don’t get me all the time.” Emphasized Michael. “None of the harem girls do. Not even Sammy or Donna. So you can either take what I offer…”

Julia turned away and looked out her window. Michael turned back to the road. He’d had this conversation more than once with the various members of his harem. Most had, at one time or another, grumbled about his lack of affections. Michael, with a bit of prodding, had nearly always found jealousy at the heart of it. “You spent more time with her than with me.” It was one of the reasons Michael tried to be as equitable with his time and attention as he could. But he also knew Julia was probably right. He’d not been as fair as he’d thought he had.

“I’ll make you a deal.” Michael offered. “You’ve raised two complaints. Your need to improve your combat skills and my need to do better in giving you proper attention. So, once we’re settled, we’ll start working on the former. I’ll set aside time each night to work on that with you.”

“And the latter?”

Michael chuckled. “We’re going to trade blows, spar with one another, be in close physical contact, and you think things won’t turn carnal fast?”

Julia smiled. “Ok, I should have guessed. You have to be you.”

---

Michael parked his Falcon next to Mitch’s Camaro and Boar’s truck. He paid the parking attendant and the group, as one, marched up the block to Nightstyles. Michael had called ahead to Virgil via cell phone to tell him he was coming, so the bouncers let them pass without question.

Michael strode inside like the King of England, his entourage fanning out beside him. The DJ, whose booth stood centerline with the front door, faded out the music when he saw Michael enter, something he and Virgil had planned. Every eye in the place looked about to see why the music had stopped and they all fell on the newcomers standing just inside the door.

“Hey, all, da boss is in the house!” called out the DJ and pointing at Michael. He then started things up again, dropping some serious beats to get everyone moving again.

Virgil walked up. “I think it worked.” He said to Michael.

“If any thralls or kindred were here tonight, they’re now passing on word to the Prince.” Michael said with satisfaction. “Until he arrives…” He motioned to his friends. “…have fun.”

Each went their own way. Julia headed straight for the DJ booth and took over, giving the regular DJ a break. Sammy, Terra, and Angelica were all dressed to the nines and immediately found eager dance partners who whisked them into the crowd. Mitch likewise found himself a young hottie and headed off for some fun of his own.

Boar stayed put. “Come on, go find someone.” Urged Michael. “A handsome guy like you should not be grumpy and alone at a party like this.”

“Someone needs to keep an eye on you.”

“I’ll be fine. It’s my own club and nothing’s going to happen until Francois shows up.”

“You sure about that?”

“Absolutely. Max will try legit methods before anything else. He’s Prince and he has to keep up some appearance of holding to his own laws. Now go. We’ll worry about Max when he shows his ugly face later.”

Michael scoped out the crowd to see if there was anyone that took his fancy. There were a few, but Michael decided tonight he would play the hunted instead of the hunter. He willed his vampire majesty into bloom and headed over to a corner to sit down.

He did not remain there long before a pretty brunette found him and hauled him onto the dance floor. And so the night went.

After a couple hours of dancing and drinking, Michael made his way back to the corner. Julia joined him there. “Having fun?” she asked.

Michael nodded. “I thought you’d work the booth all night.”

“I thought about it, but with the other girls occupied, I thought I might steal a moment with you.”

“Still thinking about our conversation in the car?”

“No time like the present to catch up on lost time.” She reached down and groped him. Without hesitation, she unzipped his fly and slid her hand inside.

“Right here? Now?” Michael was taken aback. This was the sort of sexual aggression he’d come to expect from Deborah or Sammy, not Julia.

“Why not? Sammy snuck some guy behind the DJ booth earlier to blow him. Gave me the idea.”

Michael hesitated in answering that, which Julia took for assent. She knelt down, her mouth open wide, when suddenly the DJ faded the current song early to bring in a new one: the new remix of Temptation by New Order. That was a cue to all of them: Francois had arrived.

From around the room, Michael saw each of his allies disengage from whatever they were doing and make their way towards him. Julia sat up and put everything back where it was supposed to be, disappointed that her kinky plan got cut short.

Francois stepped through the crowd to stand before Michael. He was dressed in a long black trench coat, better to hide the broadsword he no doubt kept underneath. Had he been clean shaven and had his long hair cut short, he would have been the mirror image of Keanu Reaves on those movie posters for The Matrix.

Michael and Francois stared at one another without speaking for a long minute, letting the music fade behind them and the DJ announce closing time.

“You came back.” Said Francois coldly.

“As the song said, I needed to find my soul, so I came home.”

“You know the law.”

“A petty spiteful and likely pointless law.” Michael spotted motion out of the corner of his eye, someone moving opposite the exiting crowd. Like Francois, dark of hair and clothing: Damian.

Damian Drake leaned up against the wall and folded his arms, as if curious to see what would happen next. Michael turned his attention back to Francois. “So,” Michael began. “There’s two ways this ends. You can uphold Maxmilian’s capricious edict, forcing us to fight one another.” Michael pulled his katana out from behind him on the sofa for emphasis; he did not draw it, but merely left it sitting next to him. “One of us would destroy the other. I would have to try to kill someone I have great respect and admiration for, one of the few noble souls in our nasty world. And you…”

Francois’s hand went under his coat to that broadsword, but he likewise did not draw his weapon.

“…you should obey your Prince and dispose of this invader.” Growled another voice. Prince Maximilian stepped out from behind the big Frenchman, as if he’d been hiding in his shadow all along (and he probably had been.)

“I knew you’d not be far away.” Said Michael. “The moment you’ve feared for two years has come to pass.” Before Maximilian could answer, Michael turned back to Francois. “Tell me, Francois, did you ever find out who killed Lazarus?”

The big Frenchman scowled. “I have my suspicions, but no, the identity of his murderer has eluded me. But that’s not the issue at hand at the moment.”

“No, the issue at hand is this unfair banishment that Max has placed upon me, but that old question might become very relevant…”

Max scowled further, realizing where this was going.

“Why would it…” Francois wondered aloud.

“I recant Michael’s banishment.” Interrupted Max. “He may remain in the city, but he will be as a new resident. He can reclaim no old hunting grounds, havens, or domains.”

Michael raised his hand and pointed downward, reminding them all of the “domain” they were all standing in; Nightstyles was Michael’s legal property.

“Fine. You may have the club, but you may hunt only in open territory. You may claim no private hunting grounds. None.”

Michael shrugged. That was largely moot. Virginia Beach was open territory, particular around Nightstyles, which was Elysium and neutral ground by law. And no old havens? Michael had already sold his beach house. Again moot.

Francois looked at the two of them in turn. “Welcome home,” he said to Michael and then made to depart. Max followed him out.

Damian cackled with utterly delight, reminding everyone that he had been watching the whole thing. “He is so pathetic. I know kindred can’t piss themselves with fear, but he came about as close as any of us can get. Damn fool nearly revealed that he’s the guilty party in Lazarus’ murder by trying to get you to shut up.”

“In some ways, I’m amazed no one else has unseated him.”

“Well, I suppose I could.” Said Damian. “But I’d still have to deal with Francois and his damned sense of duty. And that all presumes that I want the job. I much prefer being the Devil’s advocate on the primogen council. It’s a lot more fun and a lot less dangerous.” Damian walked over and sat down opposite Michael. “So, what about you? You march in here like God himself. I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

“I had things to come back for. Power, prestige…”

“You’re a nobody again.” Reminded Damian.

“Officially, but am I really a nobody when I can make the Prince of the city nearly piss himself with but a word?”

“No, I suppose not. But not having your former titles and positions leaves you far more vulnerable to Max and that band of sycophants that make up the council. He will find a way to make you pay for tonight, I guarantee it.”

“So what about you, Damian? You with me or with them?”

“You already know the answer to that. I’m with neither, at least not until you show me you can pull some repeat performances of tonight. Something on a more regular basis, for instance, to keep the Prince in line. Until then, he’s still the Prince and you’re a nobody again.” Damian chuckled. “A nobody with some balls, I’ll grant you. But still just a nobody.”

---

Dylan Greene pulled the car to a stop in the middle of the bridge. He got out and surveyed down I-95 to the southwest.

“You sure he’s coming this way boss?” asked the man who got out of the car behind him.

Dylan turned and looked at his companion. “He left the city going south. He’ll come back from the south and this is the quickest and most logical route to go either way. No, I’m not sure, but it’s a pretty good guess.”

Dylan’s cell phone rang. He reached under his jacket to answer it. He spoke into it briefly before closing it and returning it to his pocket. “My watchers just spotted up his car. He’ll be here any minute.”

“You sure this is going to work?” said the companion, opening the car’s trunk to fetch a large cinderblock.

“You worry too much, Gaudino. A gun makes it look too obvious. This way, it’s more of a random punk kid thing.” Dylan took the cinderblock from Gaudino’s hands. “This won’t take that long. You’ll be back in time to fuck Savina before the sun is up. Or is it to be Angela or Ludovica tonight?”

Gaudino frowned. “His holiness should not be unattended, especially so close to his likely awakening.”

Dylan walked over to the edge of the bridge. “First, he did not awaken the last time he was meant to, back when you were but a child. And second, the rest of your family guards him in your absence. We fail to uncover what Walsh is up to and he may not have a throne to return to.” Dylan set the cinderblock on the edge. “That is far more important right now.”

In the northbound lanes, a red and black Corvette roared down the nearly empty highway. Dylan watched intently, focusing all of his attention on the oncoming car. Waiting, waiting for the right moment. And then, with only a slight push, he sent the cinderblock off the railing.

It smashed right through the roof of the Vette as it passed beneath the bridge. The car veered and swerved before slamming hard into the centerline barrier. Dylan took hold of the railing and vaulted over, landing on his feet on the highway 20 feet below.

The driver of the car staggered out of the wreckage, alive and in far better condition than Dylan expected. Dylan drew his gun and opened fire, plugging the guy twice before he could do anything more than stand up.

Gaudino rappelled down from the bridge above via a rope. “Boss, I thought you said no guns.”

“He wasn’t supposed to survive the accident. This complicates matters. Come on. Let’s see what secrets he’s brought us before the cops get here.”

Dylan and Gaudino began to search through the smashed Vette.  “Not much here.” Gaudino observed.

“But what is tells a story.” Commented Dylan. “Wawa tea bottles. He went due south, probably down the Delmarva, because Wawa convenience stores don’t go very far west.”

“That’s a bit flimsy, don’t you think?”

“Well, it would be if not for this.” Dylan pulled out a map of the Tidewater area of Virginia.

“What’s he doing going to Norfolk?”

“Or Hampton? Or Virginia Beach? Or any of them? Good question.” Dylan turned his ears. “Sirens.” He noted.

“I don’t…Damn your kindred ears. I hear it now.”

“Move.” Dylan ordered, making a quick cursory glance over the rest of the car. He then turned to the corpse beside it. Not much of note on him, at least not to a quick glance, except for his name badge.

Colby Hopkins

Comcast Satellite Division

Philadelphia, PA

Attached to the badge was a second badge colored in bright yellow that said simply “VISITOR” in bold letters. He yanked the badge off the body and then followed Gaudino up the rope back to their car.

“We have quite a mystery on our hands, Gaudino.” Said Dylan as he got into the car. “Why is a bound thrall of Prince Elias Walsh posing as a Comcast Satellite employee and traveling to Virginia Beach?”

“No idea, Boss.”

“Me neither, but we need to find out.”

Next Chapter