Act Two Chapter Two - Welcome to the Jungle

Michael pulled in the parking lot at the fitness club. It was just after 9:00pm, just after the listed closing hours of the place. He dashed up to the door, pretending to be someone trying to race inside. It was all a ruse, of course.

A pretty punkish fitness trainer was locking the door as Michael walked up: his mark. He spotted her leaving work a couple of nights before, with hair dyed royal blue and a toned body that was well-revealed by her sports-bra-and-sweatpants attire. Clipped to said sports bra, then as before, was her name tag: “Margie.”

Michael flashed a disappointed look on his face, pumping the power of his vampiric charisma into every faked gesture. Margie smiled and leaned out the door.

“Sorry.” she said as she fumbled with her keys.

“Closed. I saw.” he replied. “I guess I misjudged the time.”

“We open tomorrow at 7:00am.” She paused and her smile broadened. “Hey, I’ll be done closing up in a few minutes. Would you like to go for a drink with me?”

Total strangers, first encounter, barely two sentences into a conversation, and Michael already had her. It was almost too easy.

“Sure. The name’s Michael, by the way.” That was normally a faux pas in these circumstances, as Michael well knew. But there was something so odd about the whole affair that it seemed fitting that they exchange names before moving on to the next step.

“Margie.”

“I’ll wait here. Don’t be long.”

“I won’t be.”

---

Mitch stepped inside the cottage somewhat hurriedly. He was supposed to meet Boar at Studio Gothic, one of the clubs on South Street, but he stopped in here quick to find his lucky shirt. After all, one of the hottest night spots in Philadelphia on a Friday night was likely filled to the brim with available and (he hoped) willing ladies and he needed all the luck he could get. Of course, for a mage who could manipulate luck, it was a lot easier.

A trail of blood marked the floor in front of him. That stopped him short. Something was up. He reached around his back and pulled out his AMT long-barreled .45. He checked chamber and then advanced into the house more cautiously. The blood led up the stairs and Mitch followed it slowly and quietly.

He followed the blood to the door of a bedroom. The door was neither locked nor fully latched, so he gave it a slight nudge and then aimed his pistol inside. Sitting on the bed was a familiar young girl, her face buried in the side of a ratty-looking stray dog.

“Sarah.” said Mitch, a sense of relief coming over him.

She heard him, looking up and dropping the dead animal onto the bed. She was still just as naked as she’d been when they’d put her in her coffin. Her face, neck, and parts of her chest were smeared red with the dog’s blood. There was a funny look in her eyes that unsettled Mitch, but regardless of all of it, he was pleased to see her awake from her torpor.

“Michael will be glad to see you.” Mitch said, putting his gun back into its holster.

“Where are we?” she asked, standing up. She took the dog and tossed it out a window into the back yard.

“South Philadelphia. Near the airport.”

“A long way from home.” she mused. “Exile?”

“One of choice.” Mitch emphasized. “An opportunity that Michael decided to embrace.”

“And where is Michael now?”

“I don’t know. Hunting, I would guess.”

“Then we’re alone and will be so for quite some time.” She moved towards him. “You know, he’s wanted to share me with you for a long time.”

“I’m not sure I’m very comfortable where this is going.” admitted Mitch. “I mean...you’re...”

“His? You know him as well as anyone. You know how he likes to share.” Sarah paused, the weird glint in her eyes more pronounced. “Besides, aren’t you the least bit curious about why he’s chosen to be with me?”

“A little.” said Mitch. “But, you know, one of the things Michael likes when he ‘shares’ is to watch and he’s not here to do that.”

“Who says this’ll be the last time? Call it a trial run for giving him a show he won’t soon forget.”

By now, his back was to the wall and Sarah was nearly on top of him. Without another word, she slid her hand down the front of his pants. Her delicate fingers wrapped around his manhood.

“Damn, you’re really good at that.” admitted Mitch.

“I am, and at much more.” she teased.

“Oh, what the fuck...”

---

Michael sat with Margie in the bar at the nightclub where he’d met Angela and Dylan a few nights earlier. There was no sign of Angela that night, which was probably for the best. Michael didn’t need Monroe’s spy reporting back on his every movement.

They made small talk for the better part of an hour, enjoying their drinks. Margie’s eyes never left him, enraptured by his vampire powers. Even with them, it wasn’t usually this easy, but Michael wasn’t complaining. He savored the anticipation. Soon, she would be his, her sex and her blood his playthings.

And then his cell phone rang. Michael checked the number; It was Boar.

“Sorry, babe, this is one call I can’t ignore.”

“It’s just as well. I’ll take a minute to powder my nose.” said Margie, getting up from the table.

“Your timing could be better.” teased Michael into the phone as he watched her walk away.

“Did I call just as you were about to stick it in?” answered Boar on the other end. The loud noise of an active dance club filled the background of the call and made Boar difficult to hear clearly.

“No, but close. What’s up?”

“Mitch didn’t show. Figured he found someone to stick his in.”

“That would be him, but you’re there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. About what you’d expect. Goth, goth, and more goth. It’s also about a 50/50 shot if anyone you encounter here is batting for the other team. Looks like a popular spot for the ‘alternative sexuality’ crowd.”

“That seems fitting.” Observed Michael, remembering Rebecca’s shocking-at-the-time emergence from “the closet” after her embrace. “You seen her yet?” he asked.

“I have not, but that doesn’t mean she’s not around. This is someone trained by The Djinn and if she somehow spotted me first, odds are good she’ll keep a low profile tonight.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not like she knows we’re here.” Sending a scout party ahead to the club where Todd had told Michael where Rebecca had been seen was a gamble, given Dylan’s insistence they keep a low profile. But Michael felt it justified if only to confirm what he’d been told by his former nemesis. “Well, thanks for checking in. Even without direct proof, it’s a good bet it’s one of Rebecca’s hunting grounds. All the hallmarks are there.” He hung up.

Michael glanced about. Margie had not yet returned from the rest room and most everyone present was well into their own cups at this point. Michael figured no one would much care or notice if he would sneak into the ladies room after her. He stood up and walked over, heading inside like he owned the place. No one noticed.

“I wondered if you’d get the hint.” Margie asked. She had hopped onto the counter, her back to the mirror.

“I can be pretty clueless at times, but not tonight.” Michael admitted disarmingly. “It’s pretty clear what you want when you offer to go get drinks with a total stranger.”

“A hot total stranger that I wanted to fuck from pretty much the moment I saw you get out of your car.”

“Well, we have motive. We have opportunity here. What are we waiting for?”

---

Michael walked into the cottage around midnight. Like Mitch before him, the first thing he noticed was the blood trail, now dried onto the wooden floor. The next thing he noticed was Mitch coming out of the kitchen, a pop tart in his mouth and seemingly unconcerned about the grisly stain at Michael’s feet.

“There’s a story here that I’d like to hear.” Michael mused. He ran his foot across the stain for emphasis.

“Yeah.” Mitch agreed, taking a bite of his snack. His tone was nonchalant, even evasive.

“Why didn’t you meet Boar at Studio Gothic?” Michael grew more insistent.

“I stopped by to grab my lucky shirt from some of my luggage that’s still over here. And then something came up to distract me?”

“This?” Michael rubbed his foot again across the blood stain.

“More what caused that.”

Sarah then walked out from the bedroom. She was fully dressed in her usual corset-long skirt combination and looking as seductive and sweet as ever. Michael’s eyes grew big with excitement.

“Sarah!” he cried out, rushing over and pulling her into his arms. “You’re awake.”

“Mitch said you’d be happy to see me.”

“Of course, I would.” said Michael. “God, I’m so happy. When you...I didn’t know...”

“How long I’d be out? No one does, but it was a short stint. Just about a week or so from what I can tell. Why did you come to Philadelphia?”

“It’s a...” Michael didn’t get to finish his sentence when Mitch suddenly lost his footing and slumped into a nearby folding chair.

Michael spun to help his friend. “What the hell?”

Mitch was pale and even a bit sickly looking. He waved off Michael’s concern. “Just dizzy. That’s all.”

“Did she feed from you?”

“A little.” Mitch admitted.

“Jesus, Mitch, do you have any idea how dangerous that was? A newly awakened vampire is not usually in control of themselves. She could have killed you.”

“I trust her like I trust you.” Mitch said firmly. “You would not kill me and neither would she.”

“I’m flattered, but even I don’t trust me when coming out of torpor. The last time I did it, I savaged a pair of late-night beach walkers like a rabid bear. Tore them limb from limb.”

“He was not in any danger.” Sarah interjected. “When I came out of it, I was alone, so I went out and found an animal to feed from. By the time he arrived, the frenzy was gone. I was in control.”

“Yeah.” agreed Mitch. But that evasive tone was still there and it made Michael wonder if there was still more to this story. “That’s where the blood trail came from. Fido died valiantly.” Mitch continued.

Sarah stuck out her tongue in disgust. “Dog tastes terrible, but better Fido died than Mitch.”

“Well, at least you got to wash the taste out with some of Mitch.” Michael joked.

“In more ways than one.” Sarah got a wicked smile on her face.

Mitch looked away and would not meet Michael’s eyes. The game was up; the mystery solved.

Michael looked at Sarah. “Really?” He asked incredulously, and then turned to Mitch. “So, Boar was right. You did find somewhere to stick it. In her!”

“It wasn’t like I had a whole lot of choice.” fessed Mitch.

“Bullshit.” said Michael.

“She wasn’t going to take no for an answer.”

“I wasn’t.” interjected Sarah. She looked at Michael. “Besides, it’s what you wanted. You told me to fuck him.”

“No, I didn’t.” Michael growled at Sarah. He turned back to Mitch. “And you should have known better.”

“You’ve shared your other lovers before. Sammy and the harem girls, for instance.”

“I prefer to be consulted before hand.”

“And she gets no say in it?” Mitch argued.

There were a lot of ways Mitch could have argued his position. That was probably the only one that had any merit. It brought Michael up short, but he came up with a counter-argument after a brief moment.

“You know she’s not always in her right mind? Her say isn’t always even what she really wants, but rather what the voices tell her to do.”

“And how am I supposed to know that?” It was a weak retort and Mitch knew it.

“You knew and you took advantage.” Accused Michael.

“Look who’s talking.” retorted Mitch. “You take advantage all the time, using your powers to manipulate women into wanting you. Did that cute little thing you fucked earlier tonight really want you or did you just trick her into believing she did?”

“I did it again, didn’t I?” interrupted Sarah. She grew downcast at the realization. “I thought...I thought it was you.”

Sarah’s comment made Michael realize he was getting angrier than he wanted to, as was Mitch. Escalating this was not going to get them anywhere. “Alright,” he conceded, backing down. “Fair enough. I’m not sinless, you’re right. I do toy with women. I do take advantage. But I don’t do it to my friends. Not to you or Boar. Not to Sarah or Solomon. There are lines I don’t cross.”

Mitch frowned. His pride wanted to keep fighting, but he’d come to realize Michael was right. “I’m sorry…” he confessed. “I…”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Michael replied graciously. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that the two of you ended up in bed together, between her more adult demeanor and, well, you being you. But we’re all going to have to reign ourselves in a bit. This place is more dangerous than we know.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“I’ll give you an example. The night Dylan embraced his new childe, I nearly took home a pretty little thing from the nightclub down the street, only to learn later she was one of Monroe’s thralls. We’re passionate people, every one of us; we all like our carnal pleasures. With as many spies as our enemies are going to have watching our every move, it’s not going to take them very long to figure that out. And they’ll use it against us.”

“That’s not very comforting when your own mind can betray you.” Retorted Sarah.

“True,” said Michael. He looked at Mitch. “But regardless of whether it’s delusion or just plain old ordinary impulse, I don’t think any of us is going to be immune.”

---

Michael pulled into the parking lot at 10:00pm. It was Saturday, October 17, the night of Prince Elias Walsh’s first formal court since they’d arrived. The night he and the others would present themselves to the Prince and seek his sanction to remain in the city. The night that everything hinged on. If things didn’t work out, the only option was a return to Roanoke in ignominy.

The parking lot was a good half-mile or so up Sedgley Drive from the Museum of Art, which Dylan had told them was where every court was held. Michael disembarked with Sarah and Julia and waited. After a few minutes, they were joined by Solomon on his bike and a few minutes after that came Dylan and Paul, his new childe.

“Alright, first things first.” said Dylan as he walked over. “Paul will enter with you and you will pretend that he is part of your group.”

Michael glared somewhat balefully at the novice vampire. He and Dylan had a lengthy argument over his impulsive turning. Paul had overheard most of it and had taken an instant dislike to Michael. The feeling was largely mutual; Michael’s argument had been based on how great a risk it was to their plans to be dragging an ignorant novice around with them at these early stages. It was far from complimentary of Paul, even if it was true.

But at the moment, there seemed to be little point in reviving the argument, so Michael nodded his assent.

“Good. I will arrive first and separate from all of you. When you reach the door, the thrall guards on the outside with detain you as strangers. You will request audience with the Prince, after which one of the guards will summon myself and Alexandros, the city sheriff, to escort you inside. You will then come before the Prince, he will question you, and make his decision. As I said before, expect him to reject you, but do not worry. I have spoken to Monroe and he will intervene on your behalf. Once that formality is done, I speak to you again. But until then, we cannot act as if we know one another.”

“Fine.” said Michael. “We’ll follow your lead. Do as you say.”

“Give it 30 or 45 minutes, then approach. I’ll see you then.” With that, Dylan headed off towards the museum.

“So we wait.” said Paul impatiently.

“There is a formality here that is somewhat alien to me as well.” Michael mused. “It’s not always like this. Not every city.”

“So not all of your kind has sticks up their asses?”

“Your kind? More like ‘our kind,’ and you’d best remember that.” Michael corrected. “You are kindred now and there is no going back.” Michael then softened. “It is unfair of your sire to expect you to behave like a seasoned kindred so soon after your turning. And yes, whether you like it or not, it is true that you are a novice and have almost no clue what you’ve been thrust into. That’s unfair also, but it was no different for any of the rest of us when it was our time.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t have been turned? That it was kinder to kill me?”

“Irrelevant now, since you were turned. And yes, it would have been kinder, and a hell of a lot easier for the rest of us. You’re a danger to us. I know you don’t mean to be, but the stakes are too high for any of us, Dylan included, to be instructing you in these circumstances. But again, irrelevant. You’re here and so we will do what we can. Stay close, keep your mouth shut, and things should work out tonight. I’d not do pretty much anything else if I were you. You are sheep among wolves and they will find that out quick.”

“And then what? Devour me?”

“Some of them even literally, if rumors are to be believed.” joked Sarah darkly. She snapped her jaws for emphasis.

“You do this all the time.” Michael said to Solomon, changing the subject. “You visit a hundred cities and domains a year. Is it ever easy?”

“Depends” Solomon answered. “Only deranged Princes will punish intruders immediately for being in the territory. Most give time to vacate when they refuse permission but most don’t refuse.”

“That seems odd for creatures as territorial as we are.” Interjected Julia.

“Well, I would guess that many Princes expect one of several things to happen. One, that the intruder is a nomad and will move on soon enough anyway. Two, that the hunting grounds they are granted are so undesirable that they’ll pack up and leave of their own accord. Three, because they’re given such a bad lot, they’ll tangle with someone more established and either be defeated or defeat them. If the former, they’re either dead or run off. If the latter, then they’ve proven themselves worthy to remain. For the Prince, very few of these are a losing prospect. If anything, an interloper is an opportunity to unsettle their rivals.”

“But Dylan thinks the Prince here will refuse us.” Paul interjected.

“Has he told you why we are all here? Or even why he made you a vampire?” asked Solomon.

“No, not really.”

“Then we won’t spoil it out of fear that someone might read your mind and, yes, some of us can do that.” Said Michael. “But let’s just say Dylan has cause to believe what he does about our chances in there tonight. That’s why he’s been working behind the scenes.”

“But won’t the mind reader learn what you just said?”

“He might, but what good will it do once Monroe says his piece?” Michael checked his watch. “Let’s get moving.”

“A little early yet.” said Paul.

“Is it?” said Michael nonchalantly.

Michael took the lead and the rest fell in behind him. Together they marched down the street to the art museum. In addition to the half-mile walk, they would have to circle around the building to enter from the south side, coming up the stone stairs made famous in the movie Rocky and others.

As they approached the entrance, the armed security guards made to block their path. Michael did as he had been instructed, requesting an audience with the Prince to seek permission to reside. A few moments later, the guards were joined by Dylan and a swarthy-looking kindred doing a spot-on Bela Lugosi stereotype. That had to be Alexandros, the sheriff.

Paul began to giggle at Alexandros and Michael gave him a hard elbow to silence him. The sheriff was stern and unamused and Michael could tell by the way he walked and carried himself that he was no slouch in combat. He would be a formidable adversary and it was unwise to provoke him with mockery and mirth at his appearance.

“Follow me.” Alexandros commanded. His voice was accented, Eastern European as expected, but not quite the Romanian/Slavic sound the stereotype normally presented. With a name like Alexandros, Michael suspected the kindred was more Greek or Macedonian in origin.

Michael nodded and they followed him inside. The large open room that they entered was known as the Great Stair Hall. It was massive and open and yet still felt quite full, full of curious kindred who hushed their conversations as the strangers walked inside.

Michael ignored them, keeping his eyes forward at the Great Stair itself. On the landing halfway up the stairs was the great bronze statue of Diana, sculpted by Augustus Saint-Gaudens, one of his grandmother’s favorite artists. He’d remembered that bit of trivia from his first visit here many years ago.

At the foot of the statue were two kindred. The first looked to be much like himself, a dark reflection in many ways. Where Michael was blond and fair, this vampire was dark and dusky. But he was young looking like Michael, embraced at 18 or 19 like he was. He was dressed in black clerics as if he were a Catholic priest and Michael knew without any doubt that he was looking at Prince Elias Walsh.

Behind him, seated at the foot of the statue was an older kindred, grey of hair and wrinkled of skin. His eyes were dark like midnight and sharp as could be. Round seemed to be a good description of him; he had been a large man in life, rotund with rosy cheeks that had not faded over the centuries. His garb also said “high church,” a velvet red robe much like a cardinal of the Roman church. With his grey-almost-white hair and crimson clothing, he looked very much like a beardless Santa Claus. Michael also knew this kindred. It could be none other than Thomas Monroe himself.

As they drew closer to the stairs and to the pair, the curious quiet of the hall was suddenly broken by an ear-piercing shriek of joy. “MICHAEL!!!!” Michael went pale. He knew that tone, that voice.

But the kindred that came rushing at him was not Ernie, but a frumpy petite woman in glasses. She charged out from her companions and scooped Michael up in a huge bear hug.

“I knew you’d come. I knew it.” the woman went on, her voice consumed with excitement. “I knew you’d never stay in that boring old Tidewater.”

Behind Michael, Sarah’s face twisted with anger. She moved forward and pulled the woman off of him by force.

“Why, hello there, Sar...” said the woman.

“Begone!” Sarah barked. There was something strange in her voice. A power he’d never seen her manifest before.

The woman suddenly convulsed and then collapsed. Paul rushed forward to catch her before she hit the floor. “What the hell?” he demanded loudly, forgetting everything Michael had told him earlier.

Michael could forgive that though, because Paul had asked the very question Michael himself was wondering. He looked to Sarah. “What was that?” he said.

“At its highest levels,” Sarah explained. “the power of mesmerism allows one to take complete control of another’s body. It’s like demonic possession. I looked into the spirit realm for a moment and saw two souls in her body.”

“And you cast the second out?” concluded Paul.

Sarah nodded. “She’ll come back to her true self soon enough.”

“Do we even know who that is?” said a voice.

Michael turned to see another kindred, disfigured and ugly, a Nosferatu most likely. “My apologies, friends,” the new kindred explained. “Kathleen is under my care since her sire abandoned her.”

“Did he really?” asked Michael, beginning to suspect the truth.

“Therein lies the problem.” said another voice. This time, it was Prince Walsh.

“He’s here, isn’t he?” asked Michael. He glanced over at Sarah, remembering the presence of The Fool card in his last tarot reading. “Ernie is in your city.”

“So we suspect. His childe, this orphan, was found at the Medical Examiner’s office some months ago. Since then she has gone on and on about how you were coming to the city, Michael Allens.”

“Ernie has nothing to do with why I’m here.” said Michael hurriedly. “I am, we all are, fleeing the tyranny of Prince Maximilian of Tidewater.”

“Ernie is a master manipulator. He engineers events behind the scenes, as he is here with this woman. Who’s to say he’s not manipulating Prince Maximilian to drive you here even without your knowledge?”

Possible, Michael granted, but improbable. “Max is wise to Ernie’s ways. I find that unlikely.”

“Perhaps, but why Philadelphia? Why here? You have a reputation for insurrection, Michael Allens. You’re not in Tidewater a week before my brother, Lazarus, ends up dead and the whole city in turmoil. You ended up rather well off when all the dust settled from that. Are you expecting the same here?”

“I have no expectations. Just opportunities.”

“I find that hard to believe. Ernie has been expecting you. He’s made that quite clear through this creature.” He motioned towards Kathleen, who was just now coming around from her fainting spell. “And while I would not normally give much stock to the ravings of a madman or his deranged childe, here you are, as predicted. What am I to think of that?”

Michael opened his mouth to offer a retort, but Walsh cut him off. “You may not be aware of your part in his scheme, but you are a part of it. There is little I can do about this soothsayer without incurring Ernie’s wrath, but you I have an answer for. You I can keep from my city. I will not permit you to reside here. I will not traffic in the schemes of that mad elder.”

That was the expected answer, as Dylan had said. But Walsh had raised some scary truths that neither Michael nor anyone else in his party had been aware of. Ernie was here somewhere and he was up to something. Kathleen was proof of that. And Ernie had rightly guessed Michael would be coming to Philadelphia. There was only one way he would guess that: he too knew Rebecca was here.

Michael quickly glanced about the room, but he saw no sign of her. Walsh moved closer, drawing Michael’s attention back to the Prince. Behind him, Michael could see Thomas Monroe rising to his feet.

“And yet, you are forgetting what else we have heard, Elias.” Monroe’s voice was booming, easily filling even that large room. “This is not an ordinary kindred and Ernie has realized that even if you have not. This is the same Michael Allens who slew the Mad Bishop. The same who defied Ernie and sent him into exile when Maximilian ascended his throne. The same who slew The Djinn, our great enemy’s most powerful servant. This fledgling kindred has done more to undermine our enemies in less than a decade than any of us have done in a hundred years.” Monroe began to advance down the stairs towards them all.

“My Lord,” Michael bowed in homage, a gesture he realized after-the-fact that he had not done with Walsh.

“We prefer ‘Your holiness’ as was the custom of our mortal days.” said Monroe.

“My apologies.”

“No need.” said Monroe. “You will learn our ways soon enough. And we should bow to you.” Monroe did so, leaning over in salute. “After all, you and yours have done us a great favor. Mathias is defeated and we have you to thank for that.”

Monroe stood up. “You and your companions will always be welcome in my city for that reason alone.” Monroe turned to encompass Walsh in his gaze. “As for Ernie, we will deal with him when the wretch chooses to reveal himself. Michael may prove to be a valuable asset in that regard.”

Walsh conceded. “I stand corrected then. Allens and his companions may remain in the city.”

“Thank you, Prince Walsh.” said Michael.

“My regency is not yet ended.” emphasized Walsh to Monroe. “Do I have say on where they can hunt and reside?”

“It is up to you.” said Monroe. The elder vampire turned and walked away.

“Then I give you Conshohocken, a suburb of the city to the northwest. Take up residence there. Hunt there, but nowhere else. Is that clear?”

“It is, my Prince.” Michael bowed in acceptance. With that, Walsh wandered back up the stairs to the statue.

“One tiny suburb in Montgomery County isn’t a lot of territory for four vampires to reside.” mused Solomon under his breath.

“Five,” corrected Michael. “Paul is undoubtedly confined with us. Still, it’s a start. Dylan did his part. He got us in. The rest is now up to us.”

As if summoned by the speaking of his name, Dylan walked over.

“Did you know about the girl?” Michael growled.

“Ernie’s childe? Yes, but I did not think it important until just now. That was an error.”

“Thankfully, my reputation has apparently won me some points with Monroe.”

“That and your pedigree.”

“Why is that important?”

“You’ll find that out soon enough.” Said Dylan. “It’s not for me to tell you.” He glanced about the room. “Now, let me give you the rundown here. Near the stairs, the kindred mingling there are members of the College. The closer you are to the steps, the more in favor you are with the Prince.”

“Who’s the Nosferatu that looks like Freddy Krueger?”

“Dr. John Murphy, the city’s night shift medical examiner. He’s the one that found Kathleen and has adopted her.”

“Poor girl.” mused Paul. “Whoever this Ernie is, he sounds monstrous. I’d hate to be his childe.”

Michael gave Sarah a knowing look. “You have some potential after all, Paul. Ernie is very dangerous and he is, as you’ve heard, quite mad. I’d keep your distance from his pawn.”

“No one deserves to be slave to a monster like that.” Replied Paul. He then headed over to where Dr. John had taken the still half-faint Kathleen. Michael moved to intervene, but Dylan stopped him.

“Let him go. He can’t do any harm. He doesn’t know enough.”

Michael glared at Dylan hard for a moment, but Dylan ignored him. He continued. “Over there, on the left side of the room is Mostrom’s Rebellion. The Dragons are on the right side, behind you.”

Michael glanced about. It was easy to pick out the leaders of the coteries. Felicia Mostrom was in the center of her group of fawning sycophants while Erik Bellerose was easily identified by his masked face. Phantom of the Opera indeed.

“Jimmy’s Boys and the Circle of the Crone linger near the back of the room. Upstairs, hanging near the back pretending to be too-cool-for-school are the Carthian Core.”

Michael looked up and the mystery of why he hadn’t seen her before was now answered. Rebecca was staring at him from above and Michael had the distinct impression that she’d been watching him the entire time. She was as he remembered her, tall and beautiful, with long red hair, blue eyes, and glasses. Her face was hard and unreadable. Was she angry that he was there? Apathetic? Happy? Michael couldn’t tell.

“So,” Sarah’s interjection drew Michael’s attention away from Rebecca. “that’s why we’re here. And that’s why Ernie knew we were coming.”

Michael considered offering up a lie in response, but this was Sarah talking and this was another line he could not cross. “It’s not the only reason we’re here, but yes, Rebecca is a part of it.”

Sarah’s face was hard with anger. She opened her mouth to speak again when a commotion by the door drew all their attention. The guards were arguing loudly with another arrival.

“What is going on?” demanded Prince Walsh loudly. His voice, like his sire’s, could command the room.

The guards parted to reveal the intruder. Michael was astonished to see Damian Drake.

“My apologies for being late, Prince Walsh.” Said Damian. “I’m with Michael Allens.”

---

As the night wore on and the Court concluded, Michael gathered the group back at the parking lot where things began. Damian joined them, as did Dylan and Paul. And Paul also brought a guest: Kathleen.

“What was unmanageable before is now unbelievably untenable.” Said Solomon. “Conshohocken is far too small to support the unlife of five kindred, let alone seven. We’re a Masquerade breech waiting to happen and Prince Walsh knows it.”

“It’s what you said before about how Princes welcome outsiders.” Said Michael. “We get the scraps and there’s not enough to go around.” He looked to Dylan. “This is our test, isn’t it?”

“Of course. Did you think it would be easy?”

“Monroe let this happen so we can prove our worth. Or you engineered it because it fits your plan.”

Dylan replied to that with a weak smile.

“South of Conshohocken are the suburbs of Bryn Mawr, Villanova, and Wayne.” Said Dylan. “What we call the Main Line. US Route 30. Along that route, as you go further into the city…”

“…College territory. The Prince’s own coterie. His allies. You’ve set us up for a direct confrontation out the gate with the most powerful faction in the city.”

“Did I?” said Dylan slyly.

“We could move north.” Suggested Paul. “Away from the city.”

“King of Prussia? Valley Forge? That’s either changeling territory or Sangiovanni turf.” Said Michael. “Aggravating the former will start a war and the latter are another ally of the Prince.”

“A confrontation with something is inevitable.” Said Sarah. “Choose your battle.”

Michael glared at Dylan. “You want a war? I’ll give you one. One way to deal with an opponent stronger than yourself is to give him more than he can handle. It’s one thing for Walsh to fight us. It’s another for him to fight us and the mages at the same time. We take Villanova, the university. That’s mage territory and they’ll not be real happy about it.”

“You’ll bring down the hunters.” Cautioned Dylan.

“Will I?” retorted Michael in the same sly voice that Dylan had used a moment before. “Besides, as you said to me before, what does it matter? You get what you want. Prince Walsh distracted from whatever his grand scheme is.” Michael checked his watch. “Dawn is only an hour or so away. We’d best get back. Tomorrow we’ll begin our planning.”

---

Michael walked into the cottage and immediately headed inside to the bedroom. Sarah followed without a word.

“You really are a fucking hypocrite.” She snarled as Michael began to undress for bed. Her tone was fierce, as angry as Michael had ever heard from her.

“You saw what Dylan did to us tonight. How he and Monroe set us up. We can’t afford this sort of thing right now.”

“Don’t change the subject.” She snarled. “You brought us here for HER!”

“Yes,” Michael conceded, realizing that Sarah was not going to let him evade this fight. “Yes, I came here because Rebecca is here. Now that’s either the stupidest thing I’ve ever done or the smartest. It’s a huge gamble. She could be a great ally in this or our worst enemy.”

“You’re gambling with our lives!”

“And when the hell is that not true for us?” Michael raised his voice impatiently. “We left Tidewater because Max was determined to slaughter us to the last. My harem girls are dead. Virgil is dead. Your coven is dead! Your sister is dead! Did you think it was going to stop there?”

Michael ran his hand through his hair. “We needed another option. Dylan gave me one and I took it. Rebecca’s my trump card and yes, an unreliable one at that. But he doesn’t know about her and that might prove important in the days ahead.”

“And what happens if she doesn’t prove unreliable? What happens if your every hope about her comes to pass? That she’s an ally and a stalwart one at that.”

“You know the answer to that. We use her to advance ourselves, as she will us.”

“Oh…” Sarah shook her head. “That’s not my question and you know it. Don’t play games with me, Michael Allens. You know I’m too smart for that.” She paused. “You came here to win her back and you never thought for one second what that would mean for us. What it would mean to me.”

“So says the woman who slept with my best friend last night.”

“That was low.” Retorted Sarah softly, clearly hurt. “You know why…”

“You used to talk about the ones that ‘counted.’ Sammy and the harem girls didn’t ‘count.’ Michelle and your other rivals among the kindred did. Julia’s somewhere in the middle. Well, Mitch counts for me and yet you still fucked him!” All the anger Michael had felt the night before, anger he’d fought to contain, now came rushing back in all its intensity.

“I wasn’t in control.” Pleaded Sarah.

“Yes, I know. The voices told you to it. But you chose…”

“That’s not how it works, Michael. I can’t tell until after the fact which is which. When I say you told me to do it, I don’t just say that as an excuse. I honestly thought and believed that you did.” Her voice grew strained. “I’m losing my mind, Michael. Ernie’s cursed blood flows in my veins. You blame me for my sickness and now you seek to replace me with her. How could you?” Sarah burst into tears and fled the room.

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