“You fool!” snarled Mathias at Deborah. “No vampire, and I mean none, has any business in the forest. I work tirelessly to keep the lupines away with promises and threats, and now your childe and Solomon have ruined everything.”
Deborah stood silent. In all the years she had lived under Mathias as her Prince, she had never seen him quite this angry. She was grateful that Solomon and Michael had both (on her advice) declined Mathias’ invitation to appear before him. Who knows what might have happened then?
“Don’t forget the mages, mi’lord.” Quipped Ernie. “They’re in this too.”
Ernie had told the Prince the same story he’d shared with Deborah and her allies the night before; the exact same story, no additional omissions or revelations.
“Yes,” said Mathias. “That makes things worse.” He glared hard at Deborah. “I should end your childe for this travesty.”
“Oh, don’t do that. He’s too much fun.” Added Ernie again.
Mathias looked askance at Ernie. Deborah read between the lines. Ernie was making an ultimatum. Would Mathias blink?
“Solomon is guilty also.” Interjected Andreas. “Should not the ancillae suffer the same fate?”
Deborah did not like where this was going. “My Prince,” she added hurriedly. “after the Djinn, Solomon and Michael are your two strongest fighters. If you offer them up as sacrificial lambs to the werewolves and this offering is rejected, who then will fight your war for you?”
“Oooh, good play.” Commented Ernie. “Although, it seems unfair to allow pretty little Deborah to get completely off the hook for her folly.”
“You have a suggestion?” queried Mathias.
“Kill the thralls. Particularly the two most likely candidates, Mitchell and Boorman.”
“Maybe Michael was right,” Deborah mused. The suggestion had not surprised her. In fact, she had a ready retort. “Blacksburg has seen much death lately. How long before someone starts asking questions?”
“That we can lay at your feet as well, dear Deborah.” Spat Mathias. “Another sin for which Michael goes unpunished.”
“He is young and impulsive, as are all kindred in their first years. Tell me. Have not Andreas and Sophia had to cover up their childer’s indiscretions as well? It seems Roanoke’s unsolved murder rate has gone up recently as well.” Deborah went on the attack. “Besides, my lord Prince, I somehow suspect that if the mages and the werewolves are after those two thralls of mine, then they’d hardly be happy to find them corpses on the morrow.”
Mathias glared at her with frustration and she knew she’d won. Mathias was boxed into a corner and everyone knew it. His only option was to fight.
“I will not have open war on my watch. Blood in the streets will call down too much scrutiny from mortal authorities, regardless of whether it is mortal, werewolf, or Kindred blood. Djinn!” He barked the last word loudly, although his bodyguard had been standing silently behind him the whole time.
The Djinn stepped forward. Mathias continued. “Chief Tyler needs to know who rules this city. Remind him. The rest of you, get out!”
Deborah departed quickly, wondering what price she might pay for her victory here tonight.
After the assembled kindred had left, the Djinn remained. “Mi’lord,” he said softly. “Might I ask a boon for this task. After all, Tyler is a seasoned warrior. He will not be easily defeated.”
Mathias gave him an incredulous look. “Not for you.”
The Djinn, realizing now he would not even get to make his proposal with Mathias in this mood, gave his sire a curt nod and then vanished into the shadows.
----
“So, how did it go?” queried Michael.
“There will be no war.” Said Deborah with frustration.
“I wasn’t aware that was up to us.” Interjected Solomon. “Or the Prince for that matter.”
“Chief Tyler dies tonight at the Djinn’s hand. That will end it. No war. No casualties. No vulnerability.”
“So what happens now?” asked Michael.
“We lay low and hope Mathias is prone to forget the events of these past few nights.”
“What about your plans? Your coup?”
“It waits. All of it.” Said Deborah. “Now is not the time. Not with…” She stopped short, unwilling to divulge any further details of her meeting with the Prince.
If Michael or Solomon either one was curious about the conclusion to her thought, they made no comment.
“And my plans? What of them?” Michael asked instead.
“It waits.” Repeated Deborah.
“Things are already in motion. She’s coming next week.”
“Then figure it out, Michael. You’re a smart boy. But you will make no move against Rebecca so long as Mathias’ anger is kindled against us.” Deborah glared hard at him. “You will get your chance. But it will be in the future. Not now.”
Michael ground his teeth together in aggravation. Without a word, he turned and left.
---
Tyler Bennett pulled his pick-up truck to a stop in front of the secluded A-frame house he called home. No one bothered him out here, tucked away in the woods as he was some ways off Route 11 between Salem and Shawsville.
As he stepped out of the truck, he reached back and pulled out a crossbow from the passenger seat, along with a quiver full of quarrels. Casual observers would note the oddity of these particular bolts having no metal arrowheads; each ended in a sharpened wooden point. His fellow werewolves might question the use of a weapon at all for the task before them. Tyler was no fool. His physical abilities were formidable, but these vampires were no cannon fodder. They would sell their lives dearly and it was always best to take out an enemy before he could reach you.
The night was quiet, almost unnaturally so. Tyler noted the stillness, and drew the bowstring taut. He placed one of the quarrels in place and moved towards the house cautiously. It would not be unexpected for the black prince of the vampires to make the first move. But he sensed no movement, only the ongoing stillness.
He opened the front door and stepped inside with some caution. His foot planted in something slippery and nearly went out from under him. In the dark, he could not see what it was, so he knelt closer and as he did so, the smell assaulted him. The smell of blood. The smell of death.
“Candice?” he asked nervously into the darkness. She wasn’t supposed to be here tonight. She was never to be around when the grim duties of his wolf blood called. But if they’d hurt her…
The darkness gave no answer. Tyler paused, fighting back the growing sense of panic within him. Was she here? Had they hurt her? He willed his body to morph, almost afraid to learn what his wolf senses would tell him.
The smells grew more pungent. The darkness gave way to the dim hazy vision of the beast. And Tyler had his answer. A slick of blood. A crumpled body on the floor. A head on the mantle.
He moved forward swiftly, unwilling to witness the desecration of her body even a second longer. He briefly felt the tripwire at his feet. He heard the twang of another crossbow, but it was too late. Two heavy bolts found their mark. Agony seared through his chest. Unlike his bolts, these had metal heads, and not just any metal.
The darkness seemed to coalesce and take human form. The prince’s lapdog. Tyler tried to lunge forward, but found his motion sluggish.
The Djinn laughed. “All too easy.” He said in a mocking tone. “If this is all the fight you dogs will put up, why does my master fear you so?”
“This is not the end.” Stuttered Tyler.
“For you, it is.” Replied The Djinn. “And your tribe will learn the dangers of crossing us.” The tulwar flashed in his hand and Tyler knew no more.
---
Michael walked inside his cabin to find a gathering of vampiric thralls, some his, some Deborah’s. He laughed to himself as he saw them huddled over the small table in his kitchen, playing Shadowrun. Regardless of all the grand affairs that went on in the background, some things never changed.
“Hey, Michael.” Greeted Boar. Michael looked him up and down briefly before acknowledging the greeting. Could it be that he really was a werewolf and not know it? Or was he the mage?
“You look like shit.” Commented Mitch.
“Apparently, the war has been cancelled.”
“That would seem a good thing.” Interjected Corwin.
“Peace was bought with a price apparently.” Replied Michael snidely. “It doesn’t matter.”
“So we’re still a go?” asked Corwin.
“Yes.” Said Michael defiantly. “We stick to the plan. I’m not waiting any longer. It’s far past time for Rebecca to learn the price of crossing me.”
Act Two Chapter Four
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