Act Three Chapter Five - Walk Like An Egyptian

Michael scowled as he drove back to Williamsburg. He knew Sarah had been right. He knew that he had no cause to argue, no cause to be jealous, and no cause to be angry. And yet angry he was. Seeing her let that dirty old man ravish her like that made his blood boil.

Why did it bother him so? He rattled that question around in his head as he drove the dark and empty roads between Virginia Beach and the far outskirts of the Tidewater. Deborah had other lovers and it had not bothered him. They were almost always food, and regardless, they were always someone she seemed more than willing to share with him. And yet the molester on Sarah was food too and had been taken with the precise intent of being shared with Michael. No answers there.

Rebecca? In their short time, she too had taken others, but again she'd almost always shared. Kris also. Leigh, as best he could tell, had been monogamous so far. Then it hit him...

Their "others" had always been women.

Deborah was bi, and while Michael suspected that she seduced men after embracing him, he'd never witnessed it. Rebecca and Kris, somewhat to his surprise, also swung both ways and he enjoyed the small handful of threesomes they'd been in together; him and two women, and at least once with him and the both of them.

The revelation was a jolt. Michael wanted to think of himself as having grown somewhat more open minded about sexuality since his rebirth into darkness, but there he was: jealous of his lover being with another man. He frowned, angry now more at himself and his own shallowness than anything.

"I am a vampire!" he snarled in his mind. "Why should I be bothered by some petty mortal? Sarah was always in control. He was being seduced by her, not the other way around.

"But then, that's the rub, isn't it?" Michael accused himself in his mind. "Before, with the whole lesbian thing, you could make it about you! A fantasy come to life. They did it for you, or so you wanted to believe. But not this time. No fooling yourself this time. She was doing it for herself. She wanted it from him, not you. It wasn't about you at all, and that's what you can't handle.

"Is my ego really that fragile?"

He knew the answer to that question and he did not like it.

Michael shook himself violently, as if to rid his mind of these troubling thoughts. It worked, somewhat. He remembered now that they'd killed the man, drained him dry between the two of them. Not so long ago that would have bothered Michael, another life taken. But not so this time. Was he colder and crueler now or was it simply because the man deserved his fate? How many other young girls had he hit with a rock in a dark alley only to force himself upon them? Two, twenty, or was Sarah to be the first in a long line of victims had they let him live? Michael didn't know, but he found these questions far less troubling than the ones about himself.

And then there was Michelle and her offer. She "counted" according to Sarah and Michael wondered why. He'd never seen her behave the way she did in Michelle's presence: cowed, scared, and that fear did not fade even after the primogen had gone. What did Sarah fear?

"The same thing you do." He concluded, and his mind grew troubled once more.

---

Friday. Michael awoke as the sun set determined to spend this night unconcerned with all the questions that had plagued him the night before. The Fox Club was hosting a cover band out of Blacksburg, the Unicorn Pirates, and he was curious to see what news he might glean from them about conditions back there. He didn’t expect much; mortals would be largely unaware of the things Michael really wanted to know. Still, even small word of the home he’d left behind was better than nothing.

Michael dressed and hopped in his truck, driving the 20 or so minutes from Solomon’s bungalow to the Fox Club. As he arrived, he noticed the band setting up. He walked over to greet them.

“Hey, I’m Michael.” He said cheerfully to the man he presumed was the lead singer. “Glad you guys could be here tonight.”

“Dude!” The drummer’s head popped up from behind his setup.

“Blaze! Wow, I didn’t know you were in this band.” Michael’s smile grew broader.

“You and Deb just up and disappeared on us.” Blaze shrugged as he walked over. “Bob and I found another band.”

“Bob’s here too?”

“He’s around somewhere.”

“Damn. Small world.”

“What the hell happened to you? You vanish. Disappear without a word and now you show up here, as the owner of this place?”

Michael’s mind raced to think up a plausible lie to answer him, but he came up empty. “It’s complicated.” He responded sincerely.

“You win the lottery or something? Where’d you come up with the money to get a place like this?”

“Inheritance.” Michael answered curtly. It was not entirely a lie, of course. He’d taken over Lillian’s assets after her untimely roasting on Christmas Eve, something he would not have been able to do without a little help from Maximilian. “Probably owe him one for that.” He thought grimly.

“Well, lucky you.” Said Blaze. His tone had grown colder, angrier.

“Some things couldn’t be helped.” Said Michael, discerning the origin of Blaze’s change of mood. “I’m sorry that left you in a lurch.”

“Is Deb with you?”

“No.” said Michael coldly.

“Ah,” replied Blaze, as if a revelation had come upon him. “I get it now. Damn, that sucks. She was fucking hot.”

“No kidding.” Said Michael with a defeated tone. He left Blaze to his tasks and walked over to the bar.

“Captain and Coke.” He said to the bartender. Alcohol, of course, had no effect on his vampire metabolism, but Michael liked the taste of spiced rum and after that bit of conversation a beverage less spirited seemed inappropriate.

“Aren’t we in a sour mood tonight?” said Leigh as she walked up to him.

“You working tonight?”

“Don’t you check the schedule for your own employees?”

“I’ve been a bit distracted lately.” Michael took down the drink in a single giant swig.

“So I’ve noticed. What’s got you so upset that you’re trying to get hammered this early?”

Michael motioned towards the stage, where Bob had now joined Blaze setting up. “Those two guys were in my band back in Blacksburg.”

“They know” was her reply. It took Michael a second to remember that she was referring to his not-completely-plausible cover story rather than any truths about his vampiric nature.

“Some of it.” Said Michael. “Enough of it.”

“So now you’re all maudlin and depressed. Guess it’s a good thing that I am working tonight.”

Michael glared at her, his mood still sour.

“Oh, come on now, Michael.” She continued. “What’s going on? I’ve barely seen you this last week. Your weird friend who was all…” She waved her hand in front of her face, pretending to ignore it. “…what happened to him?”

“We got him some help.”

“Well, there’s some good news!” said Leigh cheerfully. “Cheer up!”

“I know. I should be more upbeat. I just got a lot on my mind.”

“I can help you with that too, so long as you don’t mind me doing it on the clock.” She purred seductively. “It’s early. The rooms are probably empty.”

Michael’s mouth curled into a small grin. Leigh kissed him. “I want you inside me right now. Come.” Hearing those words gave Michael an instant erection. She took him by the hand and led him off to the private rooms. He did not resist her.

But as they made love, Michael’s disquieting thoughts returned. “I’m such a man whore.” He said to himself. “A woman offers to open her legs for me and there I am without hesitation, regardless of dark thoughts and foul mood. Or much of anything else for that matter.”

Michael’s sudden self-awareness made him pause, which triggered an immediately response from Leigh. “Why’d you stop?”

He gave her a sly grin and a gentle nudge, indicating he wanted her to switch positions. She complied and gave no more mind to Michael’s momentary lapse. But as he thrust back into her, his mind continued to dwell on those questions.

“Leigh wants me. She always wants me. I always want her to want me. I want them all to want me. Kris wanted me so badly that she wanted me to be the one to drink her blood, take her life. Nothing was more intoxicating.”

He stroked the inside of Leigh’s thigh, knowing her femoral artery was right there, just under the skin. “I could kill her now and she’d let me. One bite, right there and she’d bleed out into my mouth in little more than a minute. And she’d love every minute of it. And so would I. Not the death, not the killing, but the fact that she’s so drunk on me that she’d let me do anything, even murder her.”

He thrust forcefully into her again and she howled with pleasure. “Oh, my God. You’re so hard!” She gasped. It was true. His thoughts of murder had only made him more aroused.

“That’s what I want from them. All of them! Slaves to their desire for me. What power! They never say no. They always do what I want. Kris…Leigh…Rebecca! All of them.

“And yet Sarah dares to have desires of her own and that’s what you can’t handle. Deborah did too, but you never noticed with her. You were too young, too ignorant, to know what could be then. But now you do.”

One last forceful thrust and his climax roared out of him. Leigh seemed to almost squeal with delight. “My God, I thought you were going to split me in half. I need to cheer you up more often.”

He smiled at her as he pulled out. Both their bodies were twitching from the intensity of the moment before. “Yeah” was all he could muster to say.

---

Unicorn Pirates proved to be a big hit. They played two nights, both Friday and Saturday. Michael was delighted with the take.

Sunday night found him in his office, counting money to ready it for deposit the next day. Virgil would take care of that in the morning and he could be trusted.

“You seem to be in a better mood than the last time I saw you.” Said Maximilian, seemingly materializing from thin air.

“I wonder how much you spy on me.” Said Michael annoyed.

“I spy on everyone.” reminded Max, repeating what he had said from his last appearance. “Sometimes my friends as much as my enemies.”

“Keep your friends close…” Michael began.

“Much wisdom in that old cliché.”

“Is there something I can do for you, Max?”

“No, I’m just here to deliver a message. You’re going to get a formal invitation to Aegyptus tonight. It seems Michelle wants to see you.”

“And how would you know that?”

Max gave him an incredulous look.

“Right, you spy on everybody.”

“Eventually, that won't be such a surprise to you. Interesting that she’s taken such an interest in you. I suppose it has to do with her little game.”

“What game?”

“Michelle’s a curious sort. I know you saw her at the Christmas party. What did you think of her then?”

Michael’s answer was a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh, come now. You’re a childe of Deborah Means. She wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t of like mind.”

“Deborah chose me because I had potential as a fighter.”

“You and likely hundreds of others in Roanoke and Blacksburg. No, she wanted to fuck you and you wanted to fuck her and that’s the long and short of it. And neither of you were or are content with only a single partner. You consume women the way an alcoholic drinks. So don’t tell me you hadn’t really noticed Michelle.”

“Fine. She’s gorgeous. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Everything. She’s gorgeous and you chose another in her coterie before you chose her.”

“So she’s going to seduce me just to spite Sarah. That’s what this is all about? That’s why Sarah was so upset when Michelle found us the other night?”

“Now you know the game.” said Max.

All the pieces fell into place. That was why Sarah wanted her secret kept. Simple envy. If Michelle learned Sarah was more sexually desirable than she let on, Michelle might be convinced to take more drastic action than just seducing Sarah's lovers away.

“Mirror, mirror, on the wall...” mused Michael aloud.

Max smiled. “Her pride is her weakness however. To her, you’re just another conquest. That she’ll underestimate you might be precisely what we need.”

“You want me to let her seduce me. Let her claim me as a prize and then spy on her.”

“I can’t be everywhere at once. She’s plotting something and I want to know what.”

“How do you know that?”

“She's always plotting something.”

“You have an oddly inordinate amount of faith in my dick if you think that by sleeping with her I’m going to get her to spill all her plans to me.” A mirthful thought crossed his mind. "My name is Bond..."

“Don’t insult my intelligence." interrupted Max. "We both know better. However, you still might spot some clue or hear some snippet of conversation that might prove helpful. Truthfully, I’m not expecting much, but even a little bit might be useful. And at what price? You get to ravish that body for a night or two? Even now, with all my centuries, I’d envy you that.”

“Well, what a surprise. And here I thought you utterly devoid of such desires.”

“I'm a pragmatist.” said Max in his defense. “What I want and what I can have are not always the same thing.” He shrugged, as if to emphasize his deformity. “Why waste my time on what I cannot have?”

There came a knock at the door. “Who is it?” Michael asked.

“It’s Virgil. Some dude just dropped off a letter for you.”

“Bring it in.”

Max stepped into the shadows in the corner and disappeared from sight as Virgil opened the door and walked inside. “Fancy stationary. Must be something important.” He commented.

Michael opened the letter. Inside was what he expected, what Max had told him to expect: the formal invitation to Aegyptus.

“Woah, dude, you know what that place is?” said Virgil, peaking over Michael’s shoulder.

“I’ve heard of it.”

“If you’re anybody in these cities, that’s the place you go. Mayors, judges, business people, admirals, you name it. And the woman who owns it. Woah!”

“Guess I’m coming up in the world.”

“How much money you taking in at this place anyway?”

“Why do you ask? Hankering for a raise?”

“Well, hey, now that you mention it…”

“Shut up.” Teased Michael. He looked up at the clock. “It’s almost last call. Get folks upstairs to start clearing their drawers and bring it down here. I want to get the deposit ready for you for tomorrow.”

Virgil shrugged. “Ok, boss.”

---

As dawn approached, Michael returned once again to Solomon’s bungalow. The invitation to Aegyptus was for the following night, Monday, June 28, at 10pm. He thought it somewhat odd for it to name such a precise date and time, but then, remember Virgil’s comments, he presumed that Michelle’s club was rather exclusive and required reservations. Much as a 5-star restaurant might.

He walked inside the bungalow and made ready for bed. Solomon was there, watching a late night movie on HBO, looking somewhat bored. Michael was curious about Solomon’s opinion, so he volunteered “I got an invite to Michelle La Croix’s club tonight.”

Solomon looked up at him. “Really?”

“What do you know of her?”

“She’s one of the most powerful vampires in the Tidewater, probably second only to Prince Lazarus prior to his death. After all, she’s a pagan and he was a fundy Christian and yet she survived his efforts to wipe her and her coterie out.”

“What sort of pagan?” A largely irrelevant question, but Michael was curious.

“Neo-Egyptian, I believe. That’s why her club is so themed.”

“Sarah is a witch, wicca. Not much in common there other than a common enemy.”

Solomon ignored that aside. “So why’s Michelle interested in you?”

“Because I’m interested in Sarah.”

“Maybe. Michelle’s too savvy to make this completely about jealousy.” Said Solomon. “She’s got her fingers into everything: city government, businesses. It’s said even some of the military commanders at the bases answer to her. You’re small time, a bug to be squashed.”

“And you think she’s going to squash me?”

“It would rob Max of a new found ally and allow her another victory in her game with Sarah. Two birds, one stone, all that.”

“Am I the only one who didn't know about this 'game' that Sarah and Michelle have?”

“No, not really. It's not just Sarah. Michelle is an extremely vain and prideful vampire. She’s always been that way. She would be upset if any of her coterie were 'chosen' over her.” He paused. “There's a reason most of them are not terribly attractive, Sarah included.” Michael gave Solomon a tired glance. “Perhaps,” Solomon corrected, “I should just say she's not conventionally sexy. To each their own.”

“That seems to be my story here in Tidewater. My two lovers. One, a mite on the plus size. The other, a bit young looking.” Michael shrugged. “Eye of the beholder and all that. You knew Michelle from when you were here before?”

Solomon nodded.

“How old is she then? How powerful?”

“I’m not sure exactly. Maybe my age, a century or so. But I wouldn’t worry about that. Your combat skills make you more than a match for vampires much older still in any physical confrontation. No, what makes vampires like Michelle dangerous is not her physical strength, it’s her powerbase. The mortals and the vampires she controls. The social institutions that answer to her…”

“A chess master.”

“She's very much so. And if I were you, I’d be very very careful moving forward from here.”

“So I should just ignore her invitation?”

“No, that might be just as dangerous. Go, but keep your wits about you. Life for you here just got a whole lot more interesting. And I mean that in the Chinese way.”

---

Michael rarely wore a suit and tie anymore, but he’d managed to scrounge one up since becoming the owner of the Fox Club. There were times, rare, but still present, when he would have to look the part of a proper business owner. Still, he was not comfortable dressed so and as he entered Aegyptus, his discomfort only increased. It was very obvious he was a fish out of water here. His suit looked cheap compared to others and his youthful appearance clashed with the rest of the clientele.

Still, the maitre’de took his invitation without question and motioned him over to a table. The layout of the club was fascinating. Tables surrounded a square central area that resembled a ballroom floor. On that ballroom floor, several belly dancers were performing. Watching them, or minding their own affairs as was their wont, were dozens of club guests, most of them dressed far more richly than Michael: Men, women, most looking to be in their 40s or 50s.

While the belly-dancers and the music they danced to certainly gave an Egyptian flair to the place, the decor enhanced that further. In each corner was a bronze effigy of an Egyptian deity. On the wall opposite the entrance was a giant replica of the Rosetta stone. The side walls were decorated with hieroglyphics and various scenes of Egyptian history.

Michael took his seat and ordered a Captain and Coke. He noticed a few of his fellow guests paying him some heed, and with his vampire ears he could hear their disdainful gossip. It annoyed him, but he ignored it.

There was one however that caught Michael’s attention. A man, probably around 50, with a clean cut beard, his long black hair tied neatly in a pony tail. He was dressed in a fine tuxedo with a silver-headed cane. He was alone, like Michael and much unlike most of the guests. His stare bored into Michael like a laser beam, and Michael found it impossible to ignore. He returned the glare and to his surprise, found the man getting up from his table to walk over to Michael.

“It may be presumptuous of me to say so, but I would guess that you and I are here for the same reason.” He said as he approached. His voice was thick with a Georgia accent, like a character out of “Gone With the Wind.” “We are both here to see Miss Michelle, am I right?”

Michael assessed the man before answering. There was something strange about this one, something unnatural that put Michael ill at ease. But he nodded an answer.

“Ah, so it is. I am Damian Drake. May I join you?”

Michael gestured to the chair next to him and Damian sat down.

“Now let me guess. Cheap suit that you wear with obvious discomfort. Youthful appearance. Pale skin. Blonde. Now you haven’t actually said a word to me yet, but I’m willing to guess in your voice that you try an to hide accent far better than I do. West Virginia, am I right?”

“You have me at an obvious disadvantage.”

“You should be used to that by now, Mr. Allens.” Said Damian. “We are of the same breed, live in the same world. I was like you once. A lamb in the midst of wolves.”

Michael glanced at the statue of Anubis that stood nearby. Damian followed his glance. “Or of jackals perhaps?” Michael joked.

Damian chuckled. “Perhaps.”

“What can I do for you, Mr. Drake?”

“I felt an introduction was in order. Two ‘kindred’ spirits in the same place should not remain strangers from one another.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“So what do you think of our hostess and her place?” asked Damian, gesturing around him at the decor of the room.

“I think she’s trying to show off.”

Damian chuckled again. Michael found his laugh disconcerting. “Oh, and you don’t even know the half of it. That’s the mayor of Chesapeake with his mistress over there. That’s a district court judge. The woman at the far corner in the dress uniform is an admiral at the Norfolk base. Whether they are thralls of our dear Michelle, I do not know. But I can say she wants you to think they are.” He paused. “Power is half reality, half perception. If your enemies believe you are more powerful than you are, it is an advantage. If they think you are less, well, a clever man can turn that to his advantage as well.”

“Food for thought.”

“A piece of advice I thought you might appreciate. I know a bit about you, if you hadn’t guessed.”

“And I’m curious as to how you learned it.” Michael interrupted defiantly.

Damian took Michael’s rudeness in stride. “It is a rare thing for a vampire to have friends among the lupines and willworkers. Our peoples typically do not trust one another easily and are more prone to hostilities than cooperation. That you’ve managed that feat is no small thing.”

Michael did not like the fact that Damian knew that about him and Damian was clearly relishing his discomfort. Who was this vampire and what was he really after?

The question would have to wait as Michelle emerged from a nearby doorway and made her way over to Michael’s table. “Good evening, Michael. So good to see you.”

To Chapter Six