It wasn’t long before Michael and the other primogen of the city received their summons to Monroe’s home.
Michael stepped off the boat. Don Cruez, Rebecca’s former rival for the Carthians and now her “second-in-command,” walked behind him, trying to affect a somewhat immature too-cool-for-school attitude. It was a front. As he was acting as primogen in Rebecca’s stead, a role he’d always coveted and yet never done before, the Latino bar owner was nervous beyond words and trying to hide his anxieties as he always did; playing the tough guy.
Michael knew the Carthian had good reason to be nervous. Not only was this Cruez’s first visit to the infamous island, Monroe’s reason for summoning them meant they were in for the worst. The rage of one of the Great Elders was about to be unleashed upon those who had failed to prevent this atrocity.
Signs of the battle were obvious. The great watchtower that commanded a view of the Delaware was marred with soot and bullet holes. Seeing that, even Michael felt a shiver of anxiety. This was not going to be pleasant.
Gaudino Borgia beckoned the two vampires on. Michael took a moment to feel a small sense of relief to see him alive and then briefly wondered who it was who had made it and who hadn’t. Then he began the climb up the hill towards the inhabited portions of the island. They walked less than 100 feet before they came upon the bloated corpse of a young woman. Cruez frowned but otherwise paid the body little heed. Michael, on the other hand, turned the body over with his foot to inspect it.
He was, at first, relieved to see it was not someone he knew. Clearly this was one of the terrorists. The woman was quite young, maybe 20 if that old. Her chest was riddled with bullet wounds, so the cause of her death was somewhat obvious. Still clutched in her hand was an AK-101, the contemporary upgrade to the venerable Soviet-era AK-47 and the exact same weapon used by the thugs at Studio Gothic.
Michael looked at the woman’s face and noted a choker collar around her neck. Attached to the choker was a piece of jewelry in the shape of a cross. But not the Christian cross of any denomination Michael knew. This one was different and he recognized it immediately. His frown deepened. Each of the four bars of the cross was tipped with an arrow: The symbol of Ernie’s cult.
Angela Borgia touched Michael on the shoulder, bringing his attention back to matters more immediate. He turned to her and was rather surprised to see her demeanor. Gone was the bubbly and seductively eager Angela he knew from his previous encounters with her. Her face was grim, dark even.
“Angela, what really happened here?” Michael asked her. He knew in a general sense, but he wanted to know from someone who’d gone through it.
“We were attacked.” Angela began. “It was the night of our monthly orgy when nearly everyone was on the island. They knew that. Somehow they knew. They hit the pier and the watchtower first. His Holiness called out the men to battle and he tried to corral the women and children to safety in the catacombs. That’s when we learned the attack on the watchtower was a diversion. Another group hit us from the west. They evaded our patrols and hit the island from the directions that aren’t watched as diligently. They caught us out in the open and...” She paused to compose herself.
“I’m sorry.”
“His Holiness still managed to get us into the catacombs. He fought the second group himself and bought us the time we needed. He joined us and we sealed ourselves inside. When the attackers couldn’t get to us, they ransacked the island and left.” She paused again. “They killed fifteen people that night, including several of the children.”
Michael growled under his breath. Those numbers were higher than he’d heard, much higher. And the children? Whatever twisted abuses the children of the island might suffer under their perverse elders, murder was another thing entirely.
“Come,” urged Gaudino. “The Prince awaits.”
That meant Walsh was here too, to be called on the carpet with the rest of them.
Gaudino led the way and Angela fell in behind the two vampires. They were led to the catacomb building and Michael discovered that the primogen’s council chambers were within. Although Michael had visited the island before, he’d never been inside this chamber.
Standing at the door with a pensive look on his face was Elias Walsh. Michael could not guess the origin of the Prince’s anger, whether it was at the attackers for potentially disrupting his own insurrectionist plans or at Monroe for forcing him to break his embargo on having the primogen meet. Michael did not want to guess, nor did he wish to direct any of that ire in his direction. He gave the Prince a polite nod of acknowledgement and nothing more as he entered the primogen chamber. Cruez didn’t even bother with that much.
They were the last to arrive. On the far side of the room, Monroe paced, his anger barely constrained. Sitting at the large stone table were the other primogen: Bellerose, Dunn, Murphy. Standing near the door were Didi Myers and Caine Morganti, the hound and sheriff that Rebecca had embarrassed so at the December Art Museum gathering.
The attackers had clearly made it to this room, so whatever chamber Angela and the others had hidden within was elsewhere in these passages. In the far corner of the room, there was a pile of broken chairs. The table in the center was a large stone edifice, finely crafted but difficult to destroy. The attackers had tried however; it showed the marks of being cracked and broken in several places, but was still largely intact. On that table was a bloody sheet covering what Michael could easily guess were more bodies.
Walsh marched inside behind them and made for his seat. It occurred to Michael, with this being his first time in the chamber, that he did not know what protocol there was, if any, for their seating arrangements. Cruez would be no help, having never been here either, nor would he likely care.
Michael decided that was the best approach and took one of the seats farthest from the prince’s own chair. He and Cruez parked themselves there as the others turned to Walsh. Walsh began to speak, but was immediately interrupted.
“Explain this to me!” snarled Monroe, rushing over and yanking the sheet off the table. They could all see the three bodies beneath it. Michael recognized all three. The first was Savina, Gaudino’s sister and lover. The second was Dario, the young father who’d invited Michael to join the pool party the night he’d first visited the island. The third was Dario’s young son. All were shot dead.
Dr. John Murphy was the first to speak in response to Monroe. “I have taken the weapons and the bodies of the dead attackers into police custody. I have my best people working on this, tracing fingerprints through law enforcement records. The attackers had no other ID, so it’s the best we can do for now.”
“I don’t give a fuck about any of that.” barked Monroe. “One of you is behind this and I want to know which one. One of you dared to violate my sanctum! One of you dared to murder my servants! Which one?”
Michael saw where this was going. “That is not true.” he said boldly.
“What?” growled Monroe, his anger now mixed with disbelief. He glared at Michael hard.
Michael then turned to Murphy. “Dr. John, your investigations will come to naught. These are not criminals, they are fanatics. The only crimes you’ll find for them, if you find any, will be petty thefts and vandalism. Minor misdemeanors at best.”
“And you know this how?” asked Dunn.
“Because I’ve dealt with them before. They are the Church of Perpetual Light or some such nonsense. The name doesn’t matter. They’re a sex cult with New Age and Christian trappings, but it’s really about the personality at the center of it all. His current name is Dr. Ernest Malenkov.”
“Ernie.” snarled Monroe in disgust.
“These are his people.” Said Michael confidently, “as were those at Studio Gothic the other night.”
“So this is about you!” accused Walsh.
“You’d like it to be, wouldn’t you?” countered Michael. “But this is Ernie we’re talking about here. You’re thinking far too logically and rationally. You should know better, my Prince.”
“You’re the one who reined in his little spy. You’re the one who kicked him out of Tidewater years ago.” Walsh smiled cunningly. “Yes, I know all about that. My city will not be collateral damage to his vendetta against you.”
“Spy?” queried Bellerose.
“Kathleen, my former assistant.” Said Murphy. “His childe that he had possessed at court last year or don’t you remember?”
“Still seems like overkill.” Said Cruez.
“Ernie is overkill.” Growled Walsh. “He’ll burn the whole city down and between his cleverness and his fastidious devotion to the Masquerade, he’ll do it with the mortals none the wiser.”
“They all think these are terrorist attacks, a line of reasoning we’re encouraging,” Added Murphy. “Fits perfectly in line with all the other pre-year-2000 insanity that seems to be going on.”
“So we play his game.” Snarled Walsh. “He trashes our city and we pin it on mortal fanatics and madmen. I suppose he’s behind the dead Temple student too.” Growled Walsh. “Funny how you’re were at the center of that fiasco as well, Michael.”
Michael glared at the Prince. “Nice attempt at deflection there. You know as well as I what it was that killed Martin.” Michael let his stare linger long enough for Walsh to realize that Michael had caught him in the lie. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“What I should have…” Walsh began.
“ENOUGH!” Monroe boomed. Prior to this, Monroe had spent the entirety of their bickering pacing the room, seemingly ignoring the conversation entirely. Now they had his full attention again. “So it’s Ernie?” The elder asked of Michael.
“Seems so.”
“There is more, Your Holiness.” Added Murphy.
“And that is?”
“This isn’t one enemy we’re dealing with. Michael and the Prince are mistaken. The boy at Temple was torn apart as if by a wild animal. The police have also identified the bodies of the men who attacked Studio Gothic. They’re not part of any fanatical cult. They’re Russian mobsters, wanted in a half dozen countries.”
“I saw one of the bodies of the fanatics outside.” Michael interrupted. “She was using an AK-101, the same gun as those mobsters. Don’t tell me that’s coincidence.”
“Perhaps not, but I believe strongly we’re dealing with another of our old enemies: Konstantin Orlov.”
“Who?” asked Cruez.
“A vengeful werewolf who masquerades as a mortal arms dealer.” Explained Murphy. “He’s Russian by birth and deals extensively with their mafia.”
“Explains the brutalized body. Easy to see how that would be werewolf work.” Said Dunn.
“Michael has a werewolf bodyguard.” Added Walsh. “Funny, all these coincidences.”
“I’ve only barely heard of Orlov.” Michael admitted honestly. Boar had filled him in about the arms dealer, but it was very rough sketch. “If you’re accusing me again of something…”
“Unlikely” interrupted Dunn, coming surprisingly to Michael’s defense. “Orlov’s been overseas for years. Someone more established however might have cause to make alliance with him.”
“Ernie?” wondered Bellerose. “I wouldn’t put anything past either of them, but that seems unlikely also.”
“Allies or simply business partners, it probably doesn’t matter.” Said Murphy. “Orlov provides the guns and the mobsters. Ernie provides fanatics and they hit us from both sides at once. Both of them probably thinking they’re working the other over, while we face the brunt of their violence.”
“The weak point is the guns themselves. Take them away and we defang them both for the time being.” Surmised Walsh.
“Leaving one less distraction from your plans, right, Elias?” said Monroe bluntly.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Your Holiness.” Said Walsh innocently, throwing it back. “Surely, none of us wish to have these two tearing the city apart.”
“Don’t play me for a fool. You accuse Michael of treachery at every turn as obfuscation for your own plans. Having the city torn apart would act as great cover for either of you, but as Dunn points out, it takes someone far more established to create a scheme this complicated.”
“If you’re accusing me of something, act on it.”
“Remind me again who is Prince of the city.” Joked Cruez.
Walsh turned red with rage at the insinuation and looked ready to attack. Recognizing the Prince was on the verge of frenzy, Michael decided to change the subject.
“I know where Ernie sleeps.” Said Michael firmly. “He’s in York.”
“Well now,” said Monroe, “the one accused of treachery is the one who’s been working on the problem.” Monroe looked at Michael. “You’ve dealt with him before. Deal with him again.”
“Great. Not exactly what I had in mind.” Michael thought. “Walsh certainly has his schemes but I have mine and direct action against Ernie is not on my list of priorities.”
“Good, let’s see the Great Michael Allens work his magic on Ernie.” Said Walsh sardonically. He gave an evil laugh, “And here I was thinking you favored him, your Holiness.”
“You have another task. Roland Bishop.”
“Who?” asked Dunn.
“Walsh’s little errand boy. Got himself decapitated a week or so ago by hunter.” Said Cruez, pleased that he knew something Dunn did not.
“He was a valued member of the College coterie and, yes, he died to hunters.” said Walsh with annoyance.
“Malleus Malificarum hunters to be precise.” emphasized Monroe angrily. “Who work for us...or at least they are supposed to.”
“David.” Michael mused in his mind. “So he’s been busy too.”
“Talk to Stirling.” deflected Walsh.
“We have.” said Monroe, claiming the royal we imperiously for emphasis. “You might have noticed he’s minus a right arm. Lost it when the Malleus decided they weren’t going to take his orders anymore. And he’s probably lucky he only lost that much.”
“What would you have me do?” growled Walsh.
“You are the Prince.” Monroe bellowed, returning to that question. “So act like it. While Michael deals with Ernie, you will show these wayward hunters the price of disobedience.”
Michael smiled. Now that was good news. What would David do now with the Prince of vampires bearing down on him?
“These are chaotic times,” Monroe began, “and it is increasingly clear that the threats against us are growing in number and boldness. We expect everyone in this city to do their part to defend our society from all interlopers.” Walsh gave Michael a hard stare at that, but did not interrupt Monroe. “Now get off my island.”
---
Michael wandered into his office, shuffling a set of bills that had arrived in the mail during the day. He was both surprised and delighted to see Sarah standing in the middle of the office, a confused look on her face, but otherwise awake and fine. He dropped the bills and ran over to her, scooping her up into a big bear hug.
“You had me worried.”
“What happened?”
Michael took her in before answering. She was dressed the same as she was when they had gone to see Martin and Anna, a plain white tank top and long black skirt. Nothing overly sexy about it, but Michael drank her in all the same.
“You look like you haven’t seen me in a million years. How long was I out?”
“Just a week. But a week too long.”
“It’s good to be missed, but what happened?”
“Well, you ripped the terror spirit out of Anna and the stress of it knocked you into torpor.”
“I remember that part.” said Sarah sardonically. “I mean the rest. Like why was Rebecca in your emergency haven with me?” She pointed behind her to the open door of the secret compartment.
“A lot has happened.”
“This is still Club CRASS, right?” said Sarah with a wry smile. “Because the last time I went out and ‘a lot happened,’ we went from Virginia Beach to Philadelphia. We’re not in like New Jersey or something are we?”
Michael laughed. “No, we’re still in Philly.” Then he turned serious again. “There was a terrorist attack on Studio Gothic, a bombing and shooting. About 25 killed, a hundred or so injured. Lots of property damage and one vampire proprietor in torpor. There’s more...”
At that point, Michael was interrupted by the elevator door opening and Phoebe walking in. Michael turned to her. “Oh, good evening.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Phoebe asked hesitantly.
“No, my dear, just a little reunion and a current history lesson. Phoebe, this is Sarah. Sarah, Phoebe. She’s bound and knows.”
“Ok, so no secrets.” said Sarah.
“My lips are sealed.” Said Phoebe, tying her lips with a gesture.
“You’re the little Tong whore Rebecca was talking about.”
“Hopefully not for much longer.”
Sarah looked at Michael. “She’s cute. Your type. Short. Red hair. Big boobs.”
“Jealous?” teased Phoebe with some malice.
“Mind your place, thrall.” growled Sarah menacingly.
“Not a good idea, Phoebe. Sarah is the love of my life and, despite her child-like stature; she is a full vampire with all of our powers.”
Phoebe looked chastened. “Sorry.” she said sincerely.
Michael picked up the bills and began looking through them again absent-mindedly. “Is there something you needed, Phoebe?”
“I just came up to see if you wanted a taste of me.” She gave Sarah a curious once over. “I’m guessing you’ve got other plans with your love. I’ll just work the floor tonight.”
“I think that would be great.” Michael then looked up from the bills and scanned the room. He’d been so distracted between the bills, Sarah, and now Phoebe that he hadn’t taken in his surroundings. The office looked much as it always did, but something wasn’t quite right.
Sarah picked up on Michael’s alarm almost immediately. “What is it?”
Phoebe paused as well. Even she noticed now.
“There!” Sarah pointed. Michael saw it too and grabbed at what seemed to be empty air. But the wall behind the air moved in most unnatural way when Michael grabbed his target. Mimetic camouflage. There were not alone.
Sarah began to move but then stopped short, squatted to the floor, and let out a shriek the likes of which Michael had never heard from her. Phoebe moved to her side as Michael flung his foe across the room, who then struck a second intruder who was equally well hidden. The two tumbled to the floor in a heap as their camouflage turned off, leaving two soldiers in body armor sprawled on the floor. TFV. It had to be.
A third and a fourth emerged from hiding across the room. The third grabbed Phoebe and yanked her back. The fourth fired a weapon of some sort and a large net woven of black and silver thread enveloped Sarah, who continued to scream through the whole ordeal.
Michael rushed the net-soldier and grabbed him. But one of the two in the pile came to her feet and pulled out a repeating crossbow. She fired, sending a sharpened wooden shaft right at Michael. It struck him in the shoulder, missing his heart by a mile but also revealing her as the greater threat. He gave the net guy a hard shove against the wall and turned to face his new opponent.
The second of the two moved in between them and took up a defensive martial arts stance. “Unwise.” said Michael and threw a punch. The soldier deftly blocked it. Michael punched and kicked again, using all his speed and strength and much to his surprise his opponent parried them all.
Michael grew impatient and lunged forward. He grappled his opponent and yanked him off his feet. He then body slammed him hard onto his desk. With the wind knocked out of him, the soldier relaxed his defenses and Michael ripped the mask from his face.
“Agent A?” Michael was taken aback by the identity of his foe.
“Stand down.” said a familiar voice over Agent A’s comm, loud enough for Michael to hear. “Stand down before he kills you.”
The soldiers relaxed somewhat. The one released Phoebe and she immediately went to Sarah and began to untangle her from the net. Once she was free, Sarah bolted and hid under the desk.
“You came prepared for everything. Silver threaded nets. Wooden arrows.” Michael yanked the wooden arrow from his shoulder and tossed it away, glaring hard at the woman soldier with the crossbow. He guessed she was Agent M.
The elevator opened and Damian Drake emerged. He paused briefly to remove a small camera device from the back wall of the office. Michael cursed himself. There were so many clues to this ambush, but he let himself get distracted far too easily.
“Mr. Maverick?” asked A with curiosity.
“You were here to find a werewolf, not battle with vampires.” explained Damian to A. “My apologies, sir.” He then said to Michael, pretending as if the two of them were strangers.
“You were after a particular werewolf.” Michael growled, playing along with Damian’s game for the moment. “Why mine? Boar hasn’t done anything.”
“Because we hope he can lead us to the one we’re really after.” explained A.
“Orlov.” said Michael flatly.
“You’ve heard of him?” said A.
“Yeah. His name figured very prominently at a meeting I was at recently.” Said Michael. “We hunt the same quarry. Orlov’s been meddling in vampire affairs. The bombing at Studio Gothic. The attack on Tinicum Island.”
“Either his own people or through intermediaries.” said Damian. “Yes, we know all that.”
“There was an easier way than waiting to ambush him with high-tech camouflage in my office.” said Michael. “You could have just asked.”
“Those were not our orders.” said A.
Michael moved behind his desk and activated his intercom system. “Boar, get up here.”
Boar emerged from the elevator a few minutes later. “Yeah, Michael?” He glanced around the room suspiciously at Michael’s “guests.”
“Where’s Orlov?” Michael asked him.
“Damned if I know.”
“See, much easier than getting yourself killed. We’ve worked together before, A. Why the violent approach this time?”
“They were my orders. We didn’t think you’d let us have this conversation.” Agent A then turned to Boar. “Do you know who would know?”
Boar paused to look at Michael, uncertain if he should answer. Michael nodded assent and Boar spoke. “Ortega might. But he’s not going to talk to hunters bearing bleeding edge tech even if you do ask nicely. He’s the alpha of all the tribes, the chief of chiefs, and he’ll protect his own. Even a miscreant like Orlov.”
“Maybe you could ask him.”
“I can try, but I doubt it’ll work. He knows I’m in with the vampires and he won’t let me turn him over to them or anyone else.”
“I doubt Ortega wants war with the vampires.” said Michael. “It might help to remind him of the stakes.”
Boar paused for a moment. “It’s a bluff, since we don’t have the resources to take on the tribes. But then neither does he have the resources to stop the Brotherhood and take us on at the same time. It might work. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Satisfied?” Michael glared at A.
“We will be in touch. Company, let’s move out.” The four soldiers made to depart.
“Try not to disturb my clientele while you’re leaving. There’s been enough insanity in this city lately.”
Damian waited until after the soldiers had departed.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take your head right now. You knew damn well Boar didn’t know a thing. This wasn’t about him. You heard Sarah and Rebecca were out and figured I was vulnerable.”
“It was worth a shot. Walsh might be kindly inclined towards me if I were to remove two of his greatest rivals. And, as to your question, you already know the answer. It’s the same reason you didn’t out me as a vampire to them. You need them. You’ve seen their tech, their skill. They’re powerful allies and the only way you get them is through me.” He then paused. “Besides, Walsh wasn’t too pleased to call off that blood hunt on your head. I’m sure murder, even of one as undesirable as me, would give him plenty excuse to reinstate it.”
Damian then turned and left.
Michael knelt down to where Sarah was still hiding under the desk. “Sarah?” he said.
“Are the scary people gone?” she responded in a childish voice.
“All gone.” said Michael.
“What’s going on?” asked Phoebe. “You said she wasn’t a child and now she’s acting like one. Is this normal?”
“No, this is not normal, but Sarah’s got...issues. And stress tends to bring them out.” He turned back to Sarah. “Come on out. No one will hurt you.”
Sarah crawled out from under the desk and immediately threw her arms around Michael. “You’ll keep me safe, won’t you?”
“Of course. Calm down.” Michael wondered how long this episode would last. How long would she act like this? “Sarah, do you know who I am?”
“You’re Michael. You’re the one who protects me.”
“Well, she’s got that much.” Michael said aloud with sarcasm. “I’m more than that you know.”
“Oh, yes. You touch me and put your thingee in me and make me feel really good.”
“Okay, that’s not remotely creepy.” said Michael sarcastically.
“No kidding.” said Phoebe, unable to help herself. Michael shot her an angry glare to shut her up.
He then turned back to Sarah. “I much prefer to do all that with grown-up Sarah, not little-girl Sarah. It’s safe now. She can come back out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
Sarah let go and bounced playfully over to the sofa, clearly still in her child persona.
“I don’t think that worked.” said Phoebe. “How long is this going to last?”
“No idea. This is new, the result of her week long torpor sleep. She goes out like that and there’s always something new every time she comes out of it.”
“I’m bored.” Sarah complained, flopping herself back onto the sofa indignantly. After a moment or two, she sat back up. “What happened?” She asked, her voice clear, mature, and normal. “A moment ago I was standing up being introduced to Phoebe...Now I’m sitting on the sofa with no idea how I got over here.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I had another episode, didn’t I?” Sarah’s voice highlighted her worry.
“Yeah, a new one. You reverted to your childhood. No memory at all of what happened? There was a fight. TFV agents supposedly after Boar attacked us.”
Sarah shook her head. “No, no memory of that.”
“It was just a few minutes ago. That’s a little scary.” said Phoebe.
“You don’t know the half of it. When I can’t even trust my own mind...” said Sarah. “It’s getting worse.”
“We’ll deal with it.” said Michael evenly, trying to reassure her.
“This is complicated.” said Phoebe.
“Yeah, you’ve had one hell of an introduction to our world. Vampires, werewolves, government sponsored hunters, Sarah’s madness, political intrigue, all in the last few minutes. You’re just scratching the surface, dear Phoebe. We’re just getting started.”
---
Boar parked his car along the side of the road, probably a mile or so from the Mercer Castle where he’d met with Ortega previously. Cortez stepped out of the passenger’s seat.
“Wait here. Ortega will be less anxious if only one of us encroaches his territory.”
“Sure thing, boss.” said Cortez, lighting a cigarette.
Boar shifted into a wolf and dashed into the woods. The lands around Mercer Castle were typical suburbia, but still filled with enough parks, golf courses, and natural woods to conceal a great secret: This was the home of one the largest and most powerful werewolf tribes in eastern Pennsylvania. Most of them lived as normal humans in the communities nearby, but still patrolled the natural lands around for rogue spirits and other threats.
It was those patrols that Boar was counting on tonight. Boar had no real way to directly contact Ortega, so he simply figured he’d wander about until one of the Gansh found him. It did not take long this close to the castle.
As Boar wandered into a copse of trees around a Methodist church, he soon found himself surrounded by three wolves who snarled at him menacingly. An open threat to the intruder. Boar submitted and allowed them to lead him away.
They led him right to Ortega and his court, which was meeting on the other side of Doylestown. All were shapeshifted as wolves, speaking the secret tongue of werewolves to one another when Boar arrived.
“An intruder.” announced one of Boar’s captors.
“Boar Boorman.” said Ortega. “You are far from home.” Before Boar could say anything, Ortega continued. “I know why you are here. You should know better than to come to me to ask what you came to ask. Orlov is troublesome, but he is pack, and I will not turn him over to bloodsuckers for their justice.”
“I am fully aware of the great value our people place upon loyalty and it is loyalty that brings me to bargain with you tonight. Not merely my loyalty to my vampire friend, but also to you and to our people. You haven’t thought this through fully, great chief.” said Boar in response. “With our focus on Ma’atia’to, we can ill afford a war with the vampires now, which is precisely what Orlov intends.”
“And who will carry out such a war? Your friend Allens? Don’t insult my intelligence. I know full well that he is not powerful enough to make himself a threat to us.”
“He’s not the one you should worry about. Orlov is an indiscriminate killer. It doesn’t matter to him as long as vampires die. How long until he hits someone who does have the strength to be a threat? How long before it’s the Prince or Monroe? We already know some vampires side with the Brotherhood. How long before they jump in?”
“We would welcome that.” said Ortega. “The Brotherhood are the key to Ma’atia’to.”
Boar growled to himself. This was what he expected. He opened his mouth to say something else, something to the effect of “You’re making a big mistake” or some other concluding but defeated remark when he stopped short. They were not alone. Yet another ambush!
The other wolves sensed it too. Emerging from the woods were several soldiers in body armor, the same armor Boar had seen in Michael’s office the previous night.
“Damn you, Drake. You followed me here.” Boar thought to himself as the soldiers fired their nets. Ortega, Boar, and his bodyguards were caught first. As the patrol wolves moved to fight, the soldiers fired again, enveloping the trio in more nets. Unlike the attack at Club CRASS, this one was perfect. Seven werewolves in seven nets, without a single drop of blood spilled.
---
Michael stepped out of the elevator and closed his flip phone. “Excellent!” he thought to himself. “Cortez says Boar should have made contact with Ortega by now. It’s a long shot to finding Orlov, but it’s worth a try.”
Michael had little to no intention of sharing whatever he learned with Drake. It was clear now that Drake intended to compete with Michael for prestige in the vampire court, perhaps even going as far as allying with Prince Walsh. At the very least, it seemed Drake was willing to assist the Prince covertly. Either way, he could not be trusted.
Michael glanced about the room cautiously. The first attack by TFV on him had failed, but Drake might try again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary this time, except that his Murphy bed was down and it was clear that a human form was hidden under the covers upon it. Nothing overtly suspicious there; it was likely Phoebe, come for a bit of fun.
Michael smiled. “What a great way to start the night,” he mused to himself. He walked over and sat down on the bed, giving his hidden paramour an affection rub through the covers. The figure beneath purred in response. Michael then pulled back the covers.
It was not Phoebe, but Sarah. Hardly a disappointment, although Michael would probably have preferred she be naked. Instead, Sarah was clothed, but not in her usual attire of black and silver. No, tonight she had chosen something more akin to her old hunting clothing from Virginia Beach: a too-small t-shirt and a pink frilled skirt.
Sarah rolled over onto her back and stretched; Her shirt pulled up to reveal her belly and navel. She was sucking on a lollipop and in every way playing the part of the jailbait target she so often used to lure in her prey on the streets. Michael found himself torn, both aroused by the sight of her and disturbed by the possibility this was her new normal post-torpor.
“Please tell me you’re your normal self and you just stopped by on the way to feed.” Michael said aloud.
“If I wasn’t, would that stop you?” she asked, rattling the lollipop across her teeth.
“It might.”
“It shouldn’t.” She pulled back her skirt to reveal she wasn’t wearing panties (no surprises there). “Please, big brother, put your thingie in me and make me feel good.”
Michael jumped up from the bed as if bit. “Don’t do that.” he barked angrily.
“We promised to stop trying to ‘fix’ ourselves a while back; promised we’d be more honest about who and what we are. That includes you.”
“This isn’t funny, Sarah. You said you wouldn’t read my mind without permission anymore.”
“I don’t have to read your mind. I can tell by the look on your face and the bulge in your pants you want this.” she answered.
“Damn you, Ernie! Get out of her or so help me...”
“I’m not Ernie. I’m your Sarah. The one you love and who loves you. The one who clearly knows you better than you know yourself...still.” She let the last word hang for a moment.
“What are you implying?”
“That you’re still not being honest about who and what you are, not with me or with yourself. Have you seen your track record, Michael? I’d be curious to see the actual numbers regarding your lovers. How many are above the age of majority versus how many are not. Take Phoebe for instance, your latest favorite. Not only is she petite and buxom and a ginger, but she’s also barely 18 if that.”
Michael sat down and started rattling off names. “Kris, Leigh, Sammy, Terra, Donna, Angelica, Keiko, all of them were 18 or older.”
“Most only barely so.” She started her own list. “Deborah looks 16. Rebecca, 17. ME, only 12 or 13. Nikki and Felicia were maybe 17. Cecilia is 16. And how many anonymous prey have you deflowered as well as devoured? You pick young teens as nearly as often as you choose cougars to fuck and feed, if not more so.”
Michael glared at her angrily. “Oh, please, stop with the righteous indignation.” she retorted. “I haven’t even mentioned your sister yet.”
Michael jumped up again, his temper on the edge of exploding. “Are you trying to get me to admit I’m some sort of freak? A pedophile? A pervert?”
“Yes.” she said forcefully. “Because if you don’t come to terms with it, Monroe will use it to destroy you.” She paused. “He knows, Michael, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Ernie too, by the way, which is just as terrifying. We both know Monroe’s offered you your every twisted desire on his isle of flesh. You’re the grand-childe of his mortal daughter, one just as twisted and perverse as he if the stories from history are to be believed. He knows you better than yourself too and that’s a serious problem. Incest, pedophilia, probably necrophilia and every other beyond-the-pale kink that lurks in the deepest recesses of your mind is there for the offering. Give in and he’s got you.”
“Then why are you trying to get me to give in? If you’ve figured all this out, you know also this is the part of myself I fear the most. The lines I won’t cross. The last refuge of morality I have. If I give it up, I become something I don’t want to be. I will truly become a monster.”
“It’s what you already are, as evidenced by the list of your prey I rattled off. But I’m not Monroe. I’m Sarah and as I said a minute ago: I’m your Sarah, the one who loves you and that you love. Here, just the two of us, we can explore that part of you in a way that’s safe. Give you an outlet and blunt Monroe’s efforts to seduce you into his slavery.”
“And what about Rebecca? What about our Trinity?”
“She has her finger on the pulse of your dark side at least as well as I do. Besides, have you seen her list of lovers and prey? She’s as much into the young-enough-to-be-dangerous crowd as you are. If she were here, I’ve no doubt she’d be encouraging this too. In fact, I know she already has a few times. She has, after all, tried to get you, both of us really, to cross the line into same-sex flings.”
“Which you’ve done.”
“Yes, not really to my tastes, except for her. But so have you, unless pretty little Angela is really all she pretends to be.”
“Pretends or wishes to be?”
“Angela’s self-understanding isn’t exactly germane to this. The real point is you fucked her and you liked it.”
“She’s one of Monroe’s.”
“Yes, and cannot be trusted. You need an outlet for that also or Monroe will use her to entrap you. That I can’t help with, but some of your other kinks I can. Nothing wrong with a little fantasy and a little role-play to let those sides of you out for a breather.”
“It’s not as much of a fantasy with you as I’d like.”
“Michael, you’ve been fucking me for years and you know who and what I am. My youthful body hasn’t bothered you since the very beginning. When you saw me under these covers tonight, you were ready to go. Why would a little role-play be any different?”
“Because I don’t want to have these desires. Yeah, I like fucking young teens. Yeah, I wish I could’ve fucked my sister. And yeah, getting to fuck a woman as she draws her last breath is a massive turn on for me. But those are not things I like about me and I fear that if I give in to any of them, even in a supposedly safe environment, is a road to damnation.”
“You are a vampire, as am I. We are already damned.”
“Monsters we are, lest monsters we become.” Michael quoted.
“And you know damn well that old saying means we must embrace our darkest natures in limited and controlled ways to prevent becoming something far worse. Precisely my point.” She reached down to rub her exposed nethers seductively. “Now are you going to fuck me, big brother, or do I have to do it myself?”
Next Chapter
“What?” growled Monroe, his anger now mixed with disbelief. He glared at Michael hard.
Michael then turned to Murphy. “Dr. John, your investigations will come to naught. These are not criminals, they are fanatics. The only crimes you’ll find for them, if you find any, will be petty thefts and vandalism. Minor misdemeanors at best.”
“And you know this how?” asked Dunn.
“Because I’ve dealt with them before. They are the Church of Perpetual Light or some such nonsense. The name doesn’t matter. They’re a sex cult with New Age and Christian trappings, but it’s really about the personality at the center of it all. His current name is Dr. Ernest Malenkov.”
“Ernie.” snarled Monroe in disgust.
“These are his people.” Said Michael confidently, “as were those at Studio Gothic the other night.”
“So this is about you!” accused Walsh.
“You’d like it to be, wouldn’t you?” countered Michael. “But this is Ernie we’re talking about here. You’re thinking far too logically and rationally. You should know better, my Prince.”
“You’re the one who reined in his little spy. You’re the one who kicked him out of Tidewater years ago.” Walsh smiled cunningly. “Yes, I know all about that. My city will not be collateral damage to his vendetta against you.”
“Spy?” queried Bellerose.
“Kathleen, my former assistant.” Said Murphy. “His childe that he had possessed at court last year or don’t you remember?”
“Still seems like overkill.” Said Cruez.
“Ernie is overkill.” Growled Walsh. “He’ll burn the whole city down and between his cleverness and his fastidious devotion to the Masquerade, he’ll do it with the mortals none the wiser.”
“They all think these are terrorist attacks, a line of reasoning we’re encouraging,” Added Murphy. “Fits perfectly in line with all the other pre-year-2000 insanity that seems to be going on.”
“So we play his game.” Snarled Walsh. “He trashes our city and we pin it on mortal fanatics and madmen. I suppose he’s behind the dead Temple student too.” Growled Walsh. “Funny how you’re were at the center of that fiasco as well, Michael.”
Michael glared at the Prince. “Nice attempt at deflection there. You know as well as I what it was that killed Martin.” Michael let his stare linger long enough for Walsh to realize that Michael had caught him in the lie. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“What I should have…” Walsh began.
“ENOUGH!” Monroe boomed. Prior to this, Monroe had spent the entirety of their bickering pacing the room, seemingly ignoring the conversation entirely. Now they had his full attention again. “So it’s Ernie?” The elder asked of Michael.
“Seems so.”
“There is more, Your Holiness.” Added Murphy.
“And that is?”
“This isn’t one enemy we’re dealing with. Michael and the Prince are mistaken. The boy at Temple was torn apart as if by a wild animal. The police have also identified the bodies of the men who attacked Studio Gothic. They’re not part of any fanatical cult. They’re Russian mobsters, wanted in a half dozen countries.”
“I saw one of the bodies of the fanatics outside.” Michael interrupted. “She was using an AK-101, the same gun as those mobsters. Don’t tell me that’s coincidence.”
“Perhaps not, but I believe strongly we’re dealing with another of our old enemies: Konstantin Orlov.”
“Who?” asked Cruez.
“A vengeful werewolf who masquerades as a mortal arms dealer.” Explained Murphy. “He’s Russian by birth and deals extensively with their mafia.”
“Explains the brutalized body. Easy to see how that would be werewolf work.” Said Dunn.
“Michael has a werewolf bodyguard.” Added Walsh. “Funny, all these coincidences.”
“I’ve only barely heard of Orlov.” Michael admitted honestly. Boar had filled him in about the arms dealer, but it was very rough sketch. “If you’re accusing me again of something…”
“Unlikely” interrupted Dunn, coming surprisingly to Michael’s defense. “Orlov’s been overseas for years. Someone more established however might have cause to make alliance with him.”
“Ernie?” wondered Bellerose. “I wouldn’t put anything past either of them, but that seems unlikely also.”
“Allies or simply business partners, it probably doesn’t matter.” Said Murphy. “Orlov provides the guns and the mobsters. Ernie provides fanatics and they hit us from both sides at once. Both of them probably thinking they’re working the other over, while we face the brunt of their violence.”
“The weak point is the guns themselves. Take them away and we defang them both for the time being.” Surmised Walsh.
“Leaving one less distraction from your plans, right, Elias?” said Monroe bluntly.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Your Holiness.” Said Walsh innocently, throwing it back. “Surely, none of us wish to have these two tearing the city apart.”
“Don’t play me for a fool. You accuse Michael of treachery at every turn as obfuscation for your own plans. Having the city torn apart would act as great cover for either of you, but as Dunn points out, it takes someone far more established to create a scheme this complicated.”
“If you’re accusing me of something, act on it.”
“Remind me again who is Prince of the city.” Joked Cruez.
Walsh turned red with rage at the insinuation and looked ready to attack. Recognizing the Prince was on the verge of frenzy, Michael decided to change the subject.
“I know where Ernie sleeps.” Said Michael firmly. “He’s in York.”
“Well now,” said Monroe, “the one accused of treachery is the one who’s been working on the problem.” Monroe looked at Michael. “You’ve dealt with him before. Deal with him again.”
“Great. Not exactly what I had in mind.” Michael thought. “Walsh certainly has his schemes but I have mine and direct action against Ernie is not on my list of priorities.”
“Good, let’s see the Great Michael Allens work his magic on Ernie.” Said Walsh sardonically. He gave an evil laugh, “And here I was thinking you favored him, your Holiness.”
“You have another task. Roland Bishop.”
“Who?” asked Dunn.
“Walsh’s little errand boy. Got himself decapitated a week or so ago by hunter.” Said Cruez, pleased that he knew something Dunn did not.
“He was a valued member of the College coterie and, yes, he died to hunters.” said Walsh with annoyance.
“Malleus Malificarum hunters to be precise.” emphasized Monroe angrily. “Who work for us...or at least they are supposed to.”
“David.” Michael mused in his mind. “So he’s been busy too.”
“Talk to Stirling.” deflected Walsh.
“We have.” said Monroe, claiming the royal we imperiously for emphasis. “You might have noticed he’s minus a right arm. Lost it when the Malleus decided they weren’t going to take his orders anymore. And he’s probably lucky he only lost that much.”
“What would you have me do?” growled Walsh.
“You are the Prince.” Monroe bellowed, returning to that question. “So act like it. While Michael deals with Ernie, you will show these wayward hunters the price of disobedience.”
Michael smiled. Now that was good news. What would David do now with the Prince of vampires bearing down on him?
“These are chaotic times,” Monroe began, “and it is increasingly clear that the threats against us are growing in number and boldness. We expect everyone in this city to do their part to defend our society from all interlopers.” Walsh gave Michael a hard stare at that, but did not interrupt Monroe. “Now get off my island.”
---
Michael wandered into his office, shuffling a set of bills that had arrived in the mail during the day. He was both surprised and delighted to see Sarah standing in the middle of the office, a confused look on her face, but otherwise awake and fine. He dropped the bills and ran over to her, scooping her up into a big bear hug.
“You had me worried.”
“What happened?”
Michael took her in before answering. She was dressed the same as she was when they had gone to see Martin and Anna, a plain white tank top and long black skirt. Nothing overly sexy about it, but Michael drank her in all the same.
“You look like you haven’t seen me in a million years. How long was I out?”
“Just a week. But a week too long.”
“It’s good to be missed, but what happened?”
“Well, you ripped the terror spirit out of Anna and the stress of it knocked you into torpor.”
“I remember that part.” said Sarah sardonically. “I mean the rest. Like why was Rebecca in your emergency haven with me?” She pointed behind her to the open door of the secret compartment.
“A lot has happened.”
“This is still Club CRASS, right?” said Sarah with a wry smile. “Because the last time I went out and ‘a lot happened,’ we went from Virginia Beach to Philadelphia. We’re not in like New Jersey or something are we?”
Michael laughed. “No, we’re still in Philly.” Then he turned serious again. “There was a terrorist attack on Studio Gothic, a bombing and shooting. About 25 killed, a hundred or so injured. Lots of property damage and one vampire proprietor in torpor. There’s more...”
At that point, Michael was interrupted by the elevator door opening and Phoebe walking in. Michael turned to her. “Oh, good evening.”
“Am I interrupting something?” Phoebe asked hesitantly.
“No, my dear, just a little reunion and a current history lesson. Phoebe, this is Sarah. Sarah, Phoebe. She’s bound and knows.”
“Ok, so no secrets.” said Sarah.
“My lips are sealed.” Said Phoebe, tying her lips with a gesture.
“You’re the little Tong whore Rebecca was talking about.”
“Hopefully not for much longer.”
Sarah looked at Michael. “She’s cute. Your type. Short. Red hair. Big boobs.”
“Jealous?” teased Phoebe with some malice.
“Mind your place, thrall.” growled Sarah menacingly.
“Not a good idea, Phoebe. Sarah is the love of my life and, despite her child-like stature; she is a full vampire with all of our powers.”
Phoebe looked chastened. “Sorry.” she said sincerely.
Michael picked up the bills and began looking through them again absent-mindedly. “Is there something you needed, Phoebe?”
“I just came up to see if you wanted a taste of me.” She gave Sarah a curious once over. “I’m guessing you’ve got other plans with your love. I’ll just work the floor tonight.”
“I think that would be great.” Michael then looked up from the bills and scanned the room. He’d been so distracted between the bills, Sarah, and now Phoebe that he hadn’t taken in his surroundings. The office looked much as it always did, but something wasn’t quite right.
Sarah picked up on Michael’s alarm almost immediately. “What is it?”
Phoebe paused as well. Even she noticed now.
“There!” Sarah pointed. Michael saw it too and grabbed at what seemed to be empty air. But the wall behind the air moved in most unnatural way when Michael grabbed his target. Mimetic camouflage. There were not alone.
Sarah began to move but then stopped short, squatted to the floor, and let out a shriek the likes of which Michael had never heard from her. Phoebe moved to her side as Michael flung his foe across the room, who then struck a second intruder who was equally well hidden. The two tumbled to the floor in a heap as their camouflage turned off, leaving two soldiers in body armor sprawled on the floor. TFV. It had to be.
A third and a fourth emerged from hiding across the room. The third grabbed Phoebe and yanked her back. The fourth fired a weapon of some sort and a large net woven of black and silver thread enveloped Sarah, who continued to scream through the whole ordeal.
Michael rushed the net-soldier and grabbed him. But one of the two in the pile came to her feet and pulled out a repeating crossbow. She fired, sending a sharpened wooden shaft right at Michael. It struck him in the shoulder, missing his heart by a mile but also revealing her as the greater threat. He gave the net guy a hard shove against the wall and turned to face his new opponent.
The second of the two moved in between them and took up a defensive martial arts stance. “Unwise.” said Michael and threw a punch. The soldier deftly blocked it. Michael punched and kicked again, using all his speed and strength and much to his surprise his opponent parried them all.
Michael grew impatient and lunged forward. He grappled his opponent and yanked him off his feet. He then body slammed him hard onto his desk. With the wind knocked out of him, the soldier relaxed his defenses and Michael ripped the mask from his face.
“Agent A?” Michael was taken aback by the identity of his foe.
“Stand down.” said a familiar voice over Agent A’s comm, loud enough for Michael to hear. “Stand down before he kills you.”
The soldiers relaxed somewhat. The one released Phoebe and she immediately went to Sarah and began to untangle her from the net. Once she was free, Sarah bolted and hid under the desk.
“You came prepared for everything. Silver threaded nets. Wooden arrows.” Michael yanked the wooden arrow from his shoulder and tossed it away, glaring hard at the woman soldier with the crossbow. He guessed she was Agent M.
The elevator opened and Damian Drake emerged. He paused briefly to remove a small camera device from the back wall of the office. Michael cursed himself. There were so many clues to this ambush, but he let himself get distracted far too easily.
“Mr. Maverick?” asked A with curiosity.
“You were here to find a werewolf, not battle with vampires.” explained Damian to A. “My apologies, sir.” He then said to Michael, pretending as if the two of them were strangers.
“You were after a particular werewolf.” Michael growled, playing along with Damian’s game for the moment. “Why mine? Boar hasn’t done anything.”
“Because we hope he can lead us to the one we’re really after.” explained A.
“Orlov.” said Michael flatly.
“You’ve heard of him?” said A.
“Yeah. His name figured very prominently at a meeting I was at recently.” Said Michael. “We hunt the same quarry. Orlov’s been meddling in vampire affairs. The bombing at Studio Gothic. The attack on Tinicum Island.”
“Either his own people or through intermediaries.” said Damian. “Yes, we know all that.”
“There was an easier way than waiting to ambush him with high-tech camouflage in my office.” said Michael. “You could have just asked.”
“Those were not our orders.” said A.
Michael moved behind his desk and activated his intercom system. “Boar, get up here.”
Boar emerged from the elevator a few minutes later. “Yeah, Michael?” He glanced around the room suspiciously at Michael’s “guests.”
“Where’s Orlov?” Michael asked him.
“Damned if I know.”
“See, much easier than getting yourself killed. We’ve worked together before, A. Why the violent approach this time?”
“They were my orders. We didn’t think you’d let us have this conversation.” Agent A then turned to Boar. “Do you know who would know?”
Boar paused to look at Michael, uncertain if he should answer. Michael nodded assent and Boar spoke. “Ortega might. But he’s not going to talk to hunters bearing bleeding edge tech even if you do ask nicely. He’s the alpha of all the tribes, the chief of chiefs, and he’ll protect his own. Even a miscreant like Orlov.”
“Maybe you could ask him.”
“I can try, but I doubt it’ll work. He knows I’m in with the vampires and he won’t let me turn him over to them or anyone else.”
“I doubt Ortega wants war with the vampires.” said Michael. “It might help to remind him of the stakes.”
Boar paused for a moment. “It’s a bluff, since we don’t have the resources to take on the tribes. But then neither does he have the resources to stop the Brotherhood and take us on at the same time. It might work. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Satisfied?” Michael glared at A.
“We will be in touch. Company, let’s move out.” The four soldiers made to depart.
“Try not to disturb my clientele while you’re leaving. There’s been enough insanity in this city lately.”
Damian waited until after the soldiers had departed.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t take your head right now. You knew damn well Boar didn’t know a thing. This wasn’t about him. You heard Sarah and Rebecca were out and figured I was vulnerable.”
“It was worth a shot. Walsh might be kindly inclined towards me if I were to remove two of his greatest rivals. And, as to your question, you already know the answer. It’s the same reason you didn’t out me as a vampire to them. You need them. You’ve seen their tech, their skill. They’re powerful allies and the only way you get them is through me.” He then paused. “Besides, Walsh wasn’t too pleased to call off that blood hunt on your head. I’m sure murder, even of one as undesirable as me, would give him plenty excuse to reinstate it.”
Damian then turned and left.
Michael knelt down to where Sarah was still hiding under the desk. “Sarah?” he said.
“Are the scary people gone?” she responded in a childish voice.
“All gone.” said Michael.
“What’s going on?” asked Phoebe. “You said she wasn’t a child and now she’s acting like one. Is this normal?”
“No, this is not normal, but Sarah’s got...issues. And stress tends to bring them out.” He turned back to Sarah. “Come on out. No one will hurt you.”
Sarah crawled out from under the desk and immediately threw her arms around Michael. “You’ll keep me safe, won’t you?”
“Of course. Calm down.” Michael wondered how long this episode would last. How long would she act like this? “Sarah, do you know who I am?”
“You’re Michael. You’re the one who protects me.”
“Well, she’s got that much.” Michael said aloud with sarcasm. “I’m more than that you know.”
“Oh, yes. You touch me and put your thingee in me and make me feel really good.”
“Okay, that’s not remotely creepy.” said Michael sarcastically.
“No kidding.” said Phoebe, unable to help herself. Michael shot her an angry glare to shut her up.
He then turned back to Sarah. “I much prefer to do all that with grown-up Sarah, not little-girl Sarah. It’s safe now. She can come back out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Quite.”
Sarah let go and bounced playfully over to the sofa, clearly still in her child persona.
“I don’t think that worked.” said Phoebe. “How long is this going to last?”
“No idea. This is new, the result of her week long torpor sleep. She goes out like that and there’s always something new every time she comes out of it.”
“I’m bored.” Sarah complained, flopping herself back onto the sofa indignantly. After a moment or two, she sat back up. “What happened?” She asked, her voice clear, mature, and normal. “A moment ago I was standing up being introduced to Phoebe...Now I’m sitting on the sofa with no idea how I got over here.”
“You don’t remember?”
“I had another episode, didn’t I?” Sarah’s voice highlighted her worry.
“Yeah, a new one. You reverted to your childhood. No memory at all of what happened? There was a fight. TFV agents supposedly after Boar attacked us.”
Sarah shook her head. “No, no memory of that.”
“It was just a few minutes ago. That’s a little scary.” said Phoebe.
“You don’t know the half of it. When I can’t even trust my own mind...” said Sarah. “It’s getting worse.”
“We’ll deal with it.” said Michael evenly, trying to reassure her.
“This is complicated.” said Phoebe.
“Yeah, you’ve had one hell of an introduction to our world. Vampires, werewolves, government sponsored hunters, Sarah’s madness, political intrigue, all in the last few minutes. You’re just scratching the surface, dear Phoebe. We’re just getting started.”
---
Boar parked his car along the side of the road, probably a mile or so from the Mercer Castle where he’d met with Ortega previously. Cortez stepped out of the passenger’s seat.
“Wait here. Ortega will be less anxious if only one of us encroaches his territory.”
“Sure thing, boss.” said Cortez, lighting a cigarette.
Boar shifted into a wolf and dashed into the woods. The lands around Mercer Castle were typical suburbia, but still filled with enough parks, golf courses, and natural woods to conceal a great secret: This was the home of one the largest and most powerful werewolf tribes in eastern Pennsylvania. Most of them lived as normal humans in the communities nearby, but still patrolled the natural lands around for rogue spirits and other threats.
It was those patrols that Boar was counting on tonight. Boar had no real way to directly contact Ortega, so he simply figured he’d wander about until one of the Gansh found him. It did not take long this close to the castle.
As Boar wandered into a copse of trees around a Methodist church, he soon found himself surrounded by three wolves who snarled at him menacingly. An open threat to the intruder. Boar submitted and allowed them to lead him away.
They led him right to Ortega and his court, which was meeting on the other side of Doylestown. All were shapeshifted as wolves, speaking the secret tongue of werewolves to one another when Boar arrived.
“An intruder.” announced one of Boar’s captors.
“Boar Boorman.” said Ortega. “You are far from home.” Before Boar could say anything, Ortega continued. “I know why you are here. You should know better than to come to me to ask what you came to ask. Orlov is troublesome, but he is pack, and I will not turn him over to bloodsuckers for their justice.”
“I am fully aware of the great value our people place upon loyalty and it is loyalty that brings me to bargain with you tonight. Not merely my loyalty to my vampire friend, but also to you and to our people. You haven’t thought this through fully, great chief.” said Boar in response. “With our focus on Ma’atia’to, we can ill afford a war with the vampires now, which is precisely what Orlov intends.”
“And who will carry out such a war? Your friend Allens? Don’t insult my intelligence. I know full well that he is not powerful enough to make himself a threat to us.”
“He’s not the one you should worry about. Orlov is an indiscriminate killer. It doesn’t matter to him as long as vampires die. How long until he hits someone who does have the strength to be a threat? How long before it’s the Prince or Monroe? We already know some vampires side with the Brotherhood. How long before they jump in?”
“We would welcome that.” said Ortega. “The Brotherhood are the key to Ma’atia’to.”
Boar growled to himself. This was what he expected. He opened his mouth to say something else, something to the effect of “You’re making a big mistake” or some other concluding but defeated remark when he stopped short. They were not alone. Yet another ambush!
The other wolves sensed it too. Emerging from the woods were several soldiers in body armor, the same armor Boar had seen in Michael’s office the previous night.
“Damn you, Drake. You followed me here.” Boar thought to himself as the soldiers fired their nets. Ortega, Boar, and his bodyguards were caught first. As the patrol wolves moved to fight, the soldiers fired again, enveloping the trio in more nets. Unlike the attack at Club CRASS, this one was perfect. Seven werewolves in seven nets, without a single drop of blood spilled.
---
Michael stepped out of the elevator and closed his flip phone. “Excellent!” he thought to himself. “Cortez says Boar should have made contact with Ortega by now. It’s a long shot to finding Orlov, but it’s worth a try.”
Michael had little to no intention of sharing whatever he learned with Drake. It was clear now that Drake intended to compete with Michael for prestige in the vampire court, perhaps even going as far as allying with Prince Walsh. At the very least, it seemed Drake was willing to assist the Prince covertly. Either way, he could not be trusted.
Michael glanced about the room cautiously. The first attack by TFV on him had failed, but Drake might try again. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary this time, except that his Murphy bed was down and it was clear that a human form was hidden under the covers upon it. Nothing overtly suspicious there; it was likely Phoebe, come for a bit of fun.
Michael smiled. “What a great way to start the night,” he mused to himself. He walked over and sat down on the bed, giving his hidden paramour an affection rub through the covers. The figure beneath purred in response. Michael then pulled back the covers.
It was not Phoebe, but Sarah. Hardly a disappointment, although Michael would probably have preferred she be naked. Instead, Sarah was clothed, but not in her usual attire of black and silver. No, tonight she had chosen something more akin to her old hunting clothing from Virginia Beach: a too-small t-shirt and a pink frilled skirt.
Sarah rolled over onto her back and stretched; Her shirt pulled up to reveal her belly and navel. She was sucking on a lollipop and in every way playing the part of the jailbait target she so often used to lure in her prey on the streets. Michael found himself torn, both aroused by the sight of her and disturbed by the possibility this was her new normal post-torpor.
“Please tell me you’re your normal self and you just stopped by on the way to feed.” Michael said aloud.
“If I wasn’t, would that stop you?” she asked, rattling the lollipop across her teeth.
“It might.”
“It shouldn’t.” She pulled back her skirt to reveal she wasn’t wearing panties (no surprises there). “Please, big brother, put your thingie in me and make me feel good.”
Michael jumped up from the bed as if bit. “Don’t do that.” he barked angrily.
“We promised to stop trying to ‘fix’ ourselves a while back; promised we’d be more honest about who and what we are. That includes you.”
“This isn’t funny, Sarah. You said you wouldn’t read my mind without permission anymore.”
“I don’t have to read your mind. I can tell by the look on your face and the bulge in your pants you want this.” she answered.
“Damn you, Ernie! Get out of her or so help me...”
“I’m not Ernie. I’m your Sarah. The one you love and who loves you. The one who clearly knows you better than you know yourself...still.” She let the last word hang for a moment.
“What are you implying?”
“That you’re still not being honest about who and what you are, not with me or with yourself. Have you seen your track record, Michael? I’d be curious to see the actual numbers regarding your lovers. How many are above the age of majority versus how many are not. Take Phoebe for instance, your latest favorite. Not only is she petite and buxom and a ginger, but she’s also barely 18 if that.”
Michael sat down and started rattling off names. “Kris, Leigh, Sammy, Terra, Donna, Angelica, Keiko, all of them were 18 or older.”
“Most only barely so.” She started her own list. “Deborah looks 16. Rebecca, 17. ME, only 12 or 13. Nikki and Felicia were maybe 17. Cecilia is 16. And how many anonymous prey have you deflowered as well as devoured? You pick young teens as nearly as often as you choose cougars to fuck and feed, if not more so.”
Michael glared at her angrily. “Oh, please, stop with the righteous indignation.” she retorted. “I haven’t even mentioned your sister yet.”
Michael jumped up again, his temper on the edge of exploding. “Are you trying to get me to admit I’m some sort of freak? A pedophile? A pervert?”
“Yes.” she said forcefully. “Because if you don’t come to terms with it, Monroe will use it to destroy you.” She paused. “He knows, Michael, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Ernie too, by the way, which is just as terrifying. We both know Monroe’s offered you your every twisted desire on his isle of flesh. You’re the grand-childe of his mortal daughter, one just as twisted and perverse as he if the stories from history are to be believed. He knows you better than yourself too and that’s a serious problem. Incest, pedophilia, probably necrophilia and every other beyond-the-pale kink that lurks in the deepest recesses of your mind is there for the offering. Give in and he’s got you.”
“Then why are you trying to get me to give in? If you’ve figured all this out, you know also this is the part of myself I fear the most. The lines I won’t cross. The last refuge of morality I have. If I give it up, I become something I don’t want to be. I will truly become a monster.”
“It’s what you already are, as evidenced by the list of your prey I rattled off. But I’m not Monroe. I’m Sarah and as I said a minute ago: I’m your Sarah, the one who loves you and that you love. Here, just the two of us, we can explore that part of you in a way that’s safe. Give you an outlet and blunt Monroe’s efforts to seduce you into his slavery.”
“And what about Rebecca? What about our Trinity?”
“She has her finger on the pulse of your dark side at least as well as I do. Besides, have you seen her list of lovers and prey? She’s as much into the young-enough-to-be-dangerous crowd as you are. If she were here, I’ve no doubt she’d be encouraging this too. In fact, I know she already has a few times. She has, after all, tried to get you, both of us really, to cross the line into same-sex flings.”
“Which you’ve done.”
“Yes, not really to my tastes, except for her. But so have you, unless pretty little Angela is really all she pretends to be.”
“Pretends or wishes to be?”
“Angela’s self-understanding isn’t exactly germane to this. The real point is you fucked her and you liked it.”
“She’s one of Monroe’s.”
“Yes, and cannot be trusted. You need an outlet for that also or Monroe will use her to entrap you. That I can’t help with, but some of your other kinks I can. Nothing wrong with a little fantasy and a little role-play to let those sides of you out for a breather.”
“It’s not as much of a fantasy with you as I’d like.”
“Michael, you’ve been fucking me for years and you know who and what I am. My youthful body hasn’t bothered you since the very beginning. When you saw me under these covers tonight, you were ready to go. Why would a little role-play be any different?”
“Because I don’t want to have these desires. Yeah, I like fucking young teens. Yeah, I wish I could’ve fucked my sister. And yeah, getting to fuck a woman as she draws her last breath is a massive turn on for me. But those are not things I like about me and I fear that if I give in to any of them, even in a supposedly safe environment, is a road to damnation.”
“You are a vampire, as am I. We are already damned.”
“Monsters we are, lest monsters we become.” Michael quoted.
“And you know damn well that old saying means we must embrace our darkest natures in limited and controlled ways to prevent becoming something far worse. Precisely my point.” She reached down to rub her exposed nethers seductively. “Now are you going to fuck me, big brother, or do I have to do it myself?”
Next Chapter
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