Act Three Chapter Four - Girl Can't Help It

The Fox Club was relatively quiet that night, given that it was a Tuesday. Michael was glad for that, as he did not want to have explain Sarah; neither her nudity, her age, or much of anything else about her.

Sarah, of course, wanted discretion as much as, if not more than, Michael. She kept the cloak closed about her as she followed him inside. She spoke to no one and made no eye contact. She followed closely at his heels as he headed downstairs to his office.

Boar was there, watching TV, with the still catatonic Ian sitting next to him on the sofa. Before Michael could ask, Boar piped up. “Same as before. No changes.”

“Thank you, Boar,” said Michael. “I appreciate you and Mitch watching him since last night.”

“Leigh poked her head in often enough.” Said Boar appreciatively. “You’ve got quite a find in her.”

Michael caught Sarah tossing him a knowing glance. “We’ll take it from here.” He said to Boar.

“Good luck.” Boar took the hint and departed. Sarah moved to examine Ian.

“Is it what you suspected?” Michael asked.

“Yes, it does look that way.” She replied. “I can’t perform my ritual in here though. There’s not enough room. Do you have anyplace more open besides the dance floor upstairs?”

“Yeah, you can use one of the private rooms.”

Together, they guided Ian down the hallway to one of the sex rooms Michael used for his illicit filming. Michael pulled the mattress up off the floor and pushed it against the wall to clear the floor.

“This room smells of sex.” Commented Sarah. “One of the newer services the Fox Club provides, no doubt.”

“Will it serve?” Michael ignored her comment.

“It will.” She unclasped her cloak and let it fall to her feet. “But I want no interruptions.”

“That’s easily enough arranged. How long will this take?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how lost he is.”

Michael nodded and stepped outside. He closed the door behind him and headed upstairs to the bar. There he found Boar with Mitch, having a drink.

“So that’s her?” said Mitch.

Michael nodded.

“I’m almost afraid to ask how it was.” Said Boar.

“And it would be rude of me to tell you.”

Michael's friends looked at him incredulously.

“Not that bad, I guess.” Surmised Boar.

“You should probably remember that what a vampire looks like really has no bearing on its capabilities.” said Michael defensively. “She may have the body of a child, but her mind is as adult as yours or mine.”

“How old is she anyway?” asked Boar.

“In her twenties. A little bit older than us.”

“Deb looked like she was 16 and yet she was what? 45? 50?”

“Somewhere around there.” Michael fudged. He knew that were Deborah mortal, she’d be a woman nearly 60.

Boar shrugged. “I guess I’m in no position to judge. God knows I fucked Deb enough times and then there was Ami. She was only about 16 too.”

“Ami?” asked Mitch.

Boar said nothing for a long moment, as if uncomfortable at saying too much. “When I was welcomed into the Roanoke pack, I was given a minder. A werewolf to teach me their culture, their ways, their rules. One of those rules was never to get involved with another werewolf. There are consequences, dire ones…” His voice trailed off.

“And you did. That’s why you’re here with us and not with them?”

Boar took a long swig from his beer, drawing strength from the alcohol. “They hunted us. She told me to…go on alone. That I could get away. That I bore no sign of what we had done. I did as she said, I ran, and here I am.”

“Bore no sign? Does that mean what I think it means?” asked Michael.

Boar nodded. “But it's not as you think. It's the reason those relationships are forbidden. Something monstrous is born from that union and the pack would do anything to stop that from happening.”

“Anything?” Mitch repeated ominously. “Do you don’t know what happened to her?”

Boar shook his head. “No, but I can guess.” He drank the rest of his beer and hung his head.

“I’m sorry, Mike.” Said Michael, using Boar’s real name. He gave Boar a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and left him to his thoughts.

Michael headed to the recording room. He turned the camera in Sarah’s room on, so he could watch whatever she was doing. She had drawn some form of mystical circle on the floor in chalk and had put Ian into the center of it. Several candles surrounded him. Michael turned on the microphone and listened to Sarah chant in some language he neither knew nor even recognized.

“You’re such a sucker for a sob story, aren’t you?” said a voice.

Michael flipped the camera off as quickly as he could and turned around to find Maximilian standing into the door to the recording room. “Spying on me?” Michael asked.

“I spy on everyone. Don’t take it personally.” He stepped further inside and closed the door. “There was little need to turn off the monitor with me. I already know Sarah is not quite so childish as she lets on.”

“Is there anything you don't know?”

“Not much.” Max looked at Michael. “You can bet your werewolf friend will want something of you regarding his lost love.”

“You heard that too?”

“I was standing there the whole time and you never knew it.”

“Whatever he asks of me, I'll do.”

“Sentimentality is unbecoming one of our kind.”

“It has its uses. I don't see you walking around with a werewolf bodyguard.”

“Point taken. But I'm curious. How long do you suppose he'll mope around before that grief turns to anger? How long until he asks you to help him avenge her? Your plans against Mathias might take quite some time to implement.”

“That's my problem. Not yours.”

Max shrugged. “True. Although, I'll admit, you’ve taken a curious step along that journey.” He reached over and turned the monitor back on. Sarah was still chanting.

Michael followed his gaze to the monitor. “I needed her help.”

“She’s a Servant of Typhon, one of La Croix’s minions.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” retorted Max. “And if Michelle calls her on her divided loyalties, who do you think Sarah will choose? A primogen of the city or some nobody from out of town?”

“I needed her help.” Michael repeated.

“Ah, yes, more sentimentality. Only this time far less useful and far more dangerous.”

“Pardon me for still having some sense of compassion.” Snarled Michael.

“No sense getting angry at me. All I’m doing is telling you the truth.”

Michael turned in his chair to face the hunchback. “I may not be quite the expert at how the game is played as you are, Max, but I do know one thing. You play by exchanging favors. I’ll do this if you’ll do that. I've got a werewolf and a mage in my corner, and the only price I paid was that of friendship. What stronger allies could I ask for in a fight than they and I got them for so little? Now you speak of a minion of a distrusted rival? Imagine what we gain if I subvert her.”

“Your interest in Sarah is not political.”

“It isn't. But that's beside the point. She wants me and I want her. I fail to see what’s wrong with that. We all have needs, Max. Needs beyond mere survival. I’m young, yes, but it also means I still long for a tender touch, companionship, love, affection. And for that price, I get someone else who will stand by me. This is a matter of strategy. I'll play the game my way, and you play it yours.”

“And you will lose.”

“Go spy on someone else, Max. I’m tried of being talked down to. Go find Mitch and bother him. He wanted to talk to you about the lich he’s hunting. Or is his another sob story?”

“Fine, I will take my leave. But know this, you are in way over your head, Michael Allens. And when you learn that, presuming you survive the lesson, you’ll come to me. You young ones always do.”

---

Michael watched Sarah for several hours. Although she was not doing anything remotely sexual, he found the whole affair stimulating. Michael chuckled quietly to himself. “Not two days ago I found her repellent. Now I’m getting turned on as I watch her prance around naked in his strange ritual.”

Michael was about to do something about his state of arousal when he suddenly heard a loud cry from the speakers. Not her voice, his!

Ian thrashed around a bit, knocking over several candles. Sarah made to calm him down. Michael did not see what happened after that. He darted from the recording room and headed downstairs.

He pounded on the door. “Sarah? What’s going on in there?”

“He’s awake. Come in!”

Michael opened the door and stepped inside. Michael locked eyes with Ian, whose face was full of fear and bewilderment. “Ian? Pastor Ian? Are you alright?”

“Where…where am I?”

“We’ll explain. Sarah, take him to my office. I’m going to fetch him some water.”

Sarah donned her cloak once more and guided Ian back to Michael’s office. Michael dashed upstairs to the bar and fetched a bottle of water. He came quickly back to his office to find Ian sitting on the sofa. Sarah stood against the far wall, watching him.

“Here. It’s water.”

“Where?”

“Outside Hampton, VA. You’re in my teen dance club, called the Fox Club.”

“How long?”

“We don’t know. What’s the last thing you remember before they took you?” asked Sarah.

“I was going deer hunting. Fall, November, 1987. I was in the woods and then…” His eyes grew wide and even more fearful.

“They can’t hurt you.” Exclaimed Michael forcefully. “Not anymore. You’re here, back in the real world.”

“What happened to me?”

“You were abducted. Taken by spiritual beings we call the fae. They took you back to their realm. Made you a slave…”

“…demons. They’re real, aren’t they?”

“That doesn’t matter now. You found a way out, found your way back home.” Interjected Michael.

“I’m not home. I’m not from here. How did I?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. For some reason the way out you found brought you here. To this time and place.”

“Time? What do you mean time?”

“If you disappeared in 1987, you’ve been gone for almost six years. It’s 1993.”

“My God. My wife, my children, what have they been thinking?”

Michael looked at Sarah, uncertain of how to answer. She picked up that the proverbial baton he passed to her. “There’s a lot to explain, Pastor.”

“How did you…? Why are you…?” he stammered. Sarah put her hand up to silence his questions.

“There’s one who is better suited to answer your questions.” She turned to Michael. “What time is it?”

“About 4:30.”

“That doesn’t give us much time. Come. He won’t be happy about it, but I think you need to meet Fiddleskins.”

---

The three of them piled into Michael’s truck. Sarah then directed them south, through Hampton, through Norfolk, towards Chesapeake. “Where are we going?” Michael asked, growing mindful of the time. “We only have maybe another hour before the sun comes up.”

“I’m aware of that.” Replied Sarah. “Fiddleskins is an old friend. That’s his changeling name. To humans, he’s known as John Samson. He lives down here in Chesapeake and he’ll give your friend the answers he needs.”

“Why is the sunrise so important?” asked Ian.

“No more questions.” Urged Michael gently. “All will be answered in time.”

“I know you, don’t I? After six years, he’d look like you. You’re Michael Allens, aren’t you?”

“You remember me. That’s good.”

“Why are you here?”

“I was 15 when you saw me last. I’m 20 now. I’m not the kid you remember. A lot has happened.”

“I suppose so. What happened while I was gone? David? That was his name, wasn’t it? Your friend.”

Hearing that name made Michael wince briefly as he remembered his torpor dream. “I haven’t seen David in years. He moved away from Charleston a long time ago, probably not long after you were taken.”

“And Becca? You wanted so badly to win her heart. Did you ever succeed?”

“I did.” Said Michael, his tone solemn.

“And then you lost her again. Such is the way of first loves.”

“Not quite.” Said Michael grimly.

“It was recent, wasn’t it? Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Turn here. That’s his place by the end of the street.” Interrupted Sarah. Michael did as he was instructed. They pulled up in front of a red brick home on the right side of a cul-de-sac. Beyond was a small pond. Sarah headed up to the door and gave it a vigorous knocking.

“What the hell?” came the reply within. “Who the devil could that be at this time of night?” The door swung open to reveal a short bearded man. At first, Michael thought him a little person, but then he realized he was more akin to a D&D dwarf than a real life one.

“You!” he snarled when he saw Sarah.

“We found a stray.” Said Sarah. She motioned to Ian. “Just come through the hedge.”

The man looked Ian up and down. “Bring him inside. I’m sure he has many questions.”

The three of them followed Fiddleskins inside. The dwarf flipped on the light to his kitchen. “I’ll make some coffee. Not that your kind can appreciate it.”

“Your kind?” said Ian.

“Didn’t tell him, did you?” said Fiddleskins to Michael and Sarah. “Well, we all keep our secrets. Skinchanger, mage, vampire, changeling, doesn’t matter.” He turned back to Ian. “So, what’s your name, boy?”

“Ian MacAlister.”

“Your human name. Did they give you another? Do you remember it?”

Ian shook his head. “Your mind probably doesn’t want to.” Fiddleskins continued. “That’ll change in time. Once the fullness of what’s happened to you takes hold. Once you’ve passed into their realm, you’re not the same anymore. You become something else, just like me. You think I was born like this? No, this is how they changed me. They changed you too. It’s just not quite obvious how.”

“What’s happened to me?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out. But first, your friends. Were do you come from?”

“Up near Hampton.” Answered Sarah.

Fiddleskins looked at the clock above the sink and then back to her. “In the back corner of the basement, there’s a cot. Mattress. I suggest you use it. You’ll not make it back in time.”

“Thanks, Fiddle.” Said Sarah.

“You’ve brought another lost sheep back to the fold. We’ll not forget that. Now go. I’ll keep your secret. Allow me mine.”

Sarah led Michael to the basement door. They descended together into the damp dark below.

“Can we trust him?” asked Michael.

“Fiddleskins and I have an understanding. He’s taught me nearly everything I know about the fae and changelings. I’ve waited out the day in this very cot before and he’s never betrayed me yet. Yes, we can trust him.”

“You have allies among the changelings. Like I have a friend who’s a mage and one who’s a werewolf.”

“Yes, unfortunately, they’re not very useful. Oh, they can command wondrous powers once they come to full understanding of the changes Arcadia wrought. But they are too few and too timid to be of much use in the Danse Macabre. Besides, I’m not interested in politics. That’s Michelle’s job and I fear what she might ask of me if she knew of these friends of mine.”

“She's the one you most fear, isn't she?”

Sarah nodded. “I'm sure you'll find out why soon enough.”

“Do you not fear what I might ask of you?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why do you trust me so much? We've only known each other a few days.”

“And why do you me? I could be just playing with you at Michelle’s behest. Maybe I am just manipulating you as you once thought.”

“No, I don't believe that. No matter what Max says, I trust you.”

“So, Max came to visit you while I was helping Ian?”

“You didn't know? You didn't read my thoughts again?”

“No.” she said calmly. “I don’t do that with you anymore.”

“He knows, by the way. Knows you hide your physical age.”

“I'm not surprised. He'll keep quiet about it though. That's his business, you know. Selling secrets. Mine isn't worth anything to him yet, so there's no reason for him to spill it. That’s the way he thinks. Paranoid. Cynical. How can this be used to my advantage? What a cold way to live.”

“Not like us.”

“No, I'd be a fool though if I didn't think it was a great risk to trust the way I do. But it's a risk worth taking to have a bit of warmth against the cold and the dark that is our unlives. A leap of faith, if you will.” She unclasped her cloak and let it fall to the floor. “No more talking. Come here. When the sun rises I want to fall asleep with you inside me.”

---

For the second night in a row, Michael stirred first, enjoying the feeling of the Sarah in his arms. Nothing had befallen them while they were enraptured by the sleep of the dead, so Sarah’s trust in Fiddleskins had proven warranted, at least for now.

Michael sat up. In doing so, he disturbed Sarah enough for her to waken fully. She smiled at him. “I hunger. I want to hunt.”

At those words, Michael himself felt a longing within. It had been several nights since he’d tasted fresh blood and although vampires could go for a brief time without, that desire never wavered. “Yes, I could use a bite myself.” He said with a mirthful smile.

She fetched her cloak from where it rested on the floor of the basement. She whipped it around herself somewhat dramatically, “Take me home. I can’t hunt like this.”

---

Michael did as he was told, navigating his way back to Sarah’s bookstore in Norfolk. As they entered, Sarah asked Michael to wait while she got dressed. Michael wandered around the stacks, looking at the books much as he had two nights before.

“Are you the real deal?” asked a voice. It’s tone was not friendly.

Michael turned to see the second of Sarah’s two thralls, the younger woman. “Excuse me?”

“My sister has been through so much. I won’t tolerate you breaking her heart.”

Michael found the protective-sibling bit somewhat amusing, but he did not show it. He ignored the comment. “A sister? I thought…”

“I have more than one.” Said Sarah as she entered the room. “That’ll be all, Elizabeth.”

The thrall nodded and departed. Michael was about to inquire further about Sarah’s family, but when he saw how Sarah was dressed, all those questions vanished from his mind. Sneakers, knee-socks, a short skirt, and tank top. In her mouth, she sucked on a lollipop. Her hair was now done up in pony-tails.

“You look like a pedophile’s wet dream” was all he could say.

She took the lollipop from her mouth and shot him a toothy grin, extending her fangs as she did so. “Indeed. Blood is calling. Let’s go.”

---

Michael was figuring Sarah would take him to her usual hunting grounds in Norfolk. Or rather, he presumed her regular grounds would be somewhat nearby.

“Into Virginia Beach?” queried Michael when she motioned for him to get on the Interstate.

“Yes. This little gimmick I work requires tourists.”

“I just thought your hunting grounds would be closer to home.”

“An animal doesn’t shit where it sleeps. A vampire doesn’t hunt near its haven. Did you not know that?”

Michael felt foolish and a little embarrassed. “I had a whole city, four really: Blacksburg, Christiansburg, Salem, and Roanoke. Only Roanoke was of any real size. There were so few of us that we didn’t really mark territory like they do here.”

“Like they do most everywhere. I guess I didn’t realize what it means to be turned in a hermitage city and how that would be different from here.”

“Yeah, just a handful of us with Saint Mathias to lord over us. Everywhere was near my haven and everywhere wasn’t. Guess that’s a lesson I didn’t learn.”

“If you keep a haven at the Fox Club…”

“Yeah, I’m already making a mental note to myself on that one.”

She laughed, giggled really. “I won’t tell.”

“Getting into character?” asked Michael, noting the change.

“Why, mister, I just don’t know where my parents are. Can you help me?” she said in a sing-song little girl voice, with just the right amount of vulnerability.

“Dear God, no child molester is going to resist that.”

“I don’t always get molesters. Sometimes I get people who are sincere, Good Samaritans and the like. I treat them differently. If they’re after my T&A, then I’ll leave them within an inch of death. If they’re genuine, I only take a little. Too few decent people in the world for me to put them at risk.”

“How do you tell the difference?”

She tapped her forehead. “I can read thoughts, remember?”

“I don’t think my strategy is going to be very compatible with yours, despite its emphasis on attraction and sex.”

“We can either go separate ways. You hit the clubs and I hit the streets. Or we can share.”

“Not exactly a very vampiric offer. Also risky.”

“I’m not going to lose sleep if we accidentally kill some child rapist. Only predators I want on the streets are us…and to be honest, we could probably do with a few fewer of our kind as well.”

“Somehow, I get the feeling that won’t be a problem for much longer.” Said Michael grimly. His thoughts immediately went to Francois, lying dormant inside that now-risky haven at the Fox Club and all that his torpid sleep implied.

---

Michael opted for the “share” option, mostly out of curiosity. He’d watched Deborah and Rebecca hunt, one his teacher, the other his student in their particular brand of seduction-feeding. He’d seen Solomon feed, pure brute force as fit a kindred of his prowess and disposition. Then he thought about Ernie.

As best Michael could tell, Ernie was a seducer as well, but in a different way. Instead of preying upon humanity’s lusts, he tapped their minds to find their innermost desires: acceptance, money, spirituality, meaning, success, power. Hence his cults, which offered many of these. At his fingertips, great gatherings of devoted followers who trusted him implicitly. None ever fearing their master as he feed upon them.

For now though, he let his thoughts go silent as he watched Sarah work. Her “lost child” bit was convincing and it bothered him that most people were clearly apathetic towards her plight. “Has humanity become so cynical to presume every lost child a scam or an invitation to danger?” The irony of his thoughts did not escape him and he grinned. “Of course, this one is a hungry vampire looking for a snack. But I can’t imagine many of them presume THAT particular danger.”

A car pulled up next to Sarah and Michael could see three men inside. He couldn’t make their voices out completely, but he could tell their intentions were less than honorable. Sarah stepped away from the car and let out a loud scream. The driver floored it, running the red light at the intersection and nearly causing an accident.

“That might have been our best bet.” Michael said as Sarah came towards him across the street.

“We’re doing this together, remember? If I were soloing, I’d have gotten in that car with them. That was a three-for-one deal. Too good to pass up, but how would you have followed?”

Michael nodded appreciatively. Sarah continued. “Let’s move down a block or two. This isn’t working here.” He agreed and they took a leisurely walk down the street.

“I’m curious as to how you landed such posh hunting grounds.” Michael asked.

“I told you before Lazarus and I had an understanding.” She answered. “My youthful appearance combined with his puritanical and tyrannical views on sexuality made for an interesting deal. I would comb the streets for child predators and deliver righteous punishment upon those sinners in the name of the Prince and his Lord. He used me to keep his streets clean and I used him to land some of the best hunting grounds in the city.”

“Without a Prince to keep order, how will you keep them?” asked Michael.

“I don't know yet. But with Lazarus gone and now also Francois, it seems Virginia Beach is a no-man's land. Until someone forces me to move on, I'll keep to my habits.” She stopped, assessing the crowd. “I’ll work this section for a bit. Watch that alley.”

Michael saw where she gestured. Any predator wanting to take advantage of little lost Sarah would find it an ideal location: dark, secluded, and somewhat off the beaten path. Michael made his way across the street to find a reasonably hidden vantage point and waited.

He did not have to wait long. A grey-haired man in a rumpled Members Only jacket came around the bend not two minutes later, Sarah in tow. “I think I saw a policeman go this way.” Michael overheard him say. He led Sarah down the alley and they disappeared into the dark.

Michael waited for a minute. He didn’t want to jump in too soon, as the man was undoubtedly up to no good and probably a bit anxious about it. Best to wait and let him relax from a false sense of security. He timed himself and headed across after a full minute had passed.

He stalked down the alley quietly. He expected to find the situation well in hand; Sarah perhaps waiting impatiently with their subdued quarry. What he found instead shocked him. Sarah was on her knees, her face in the dirt. The man had yanked his pants down to his knees and was rutting her from behind forcefully.

Michael was not sure how he’d gotten the better of her, but he was on the man fast as lightning. With an iron grip, he grabbed the man by the back of the neck and forcefully flung him against the wall of the adjacent building. He hit the brick with an ugly smack and slid down it out cold.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Michael.

“Nothing really.” Said Sarah, coming back to her feet. “He hit me with a rock from behind. It seemed best to play along until you showed up. Thanks for the rescue.” That last comment had a sardonic tone. She leaned over, bared her fangs, and drank deeply from her unconscious rapist.

“Still dangerous for you to have let him get the drop on you like that.” Michael joined her, taking a bite from the other side of the man’s neck.

“You honestly think I wasn’t in control of the situation the whole time?” she asked him as she came back up. The man convulsed and died.

“Then you let him do that to you?” His tone was angry.

Sarah hesitated with her response, her eyes flashing with anxiety. “Do what? Fuck me? That bothers you?"

"A little." Michael admitted. That was dishonest. It bothered him a lot.

“It’s not like people like you come around everyday…”

“People like me? What do you mean by that?”

Sarah’s face became one of tormented fear. Something about his tone or perhaps the content of his questions was giving her the same pained look she’d given him the night he’d first said no to her advances.

"That came out wrong..." she began, but then she was interrupted by a voice behind them down the alley.

“Oh, you honestly don’t know, do you, Monsieur Michael?”

“Michelle.” Said Sarah. Her face changed again, now to one of sheepish submission. She stared at her feet and would not meet his eyes.

“Far be it from me to interrupt your lovers’ quarrel…or to spoil the game.” Continued Michelle. “Eh, dear Sarah?”

Sarah peeked up from her docile stance to shoot Michelle a look of such pure venom it might have killed if such a thing were possible.

“What are you doing here?” Michael asked.

“Same as you.” Michelle looked at the dead man. “Although I see one of you still thinks her Prince will protect her special privileges from beyond the grave.”

“He was a child molester and a predator. The city is better off without him.” Interjected Sarah, finding her voice again.

“Yes, such a vile sinner that you’ve had to get your bell well and truly rung by men such as him for years between your more fulfilling lovers…but then they never stay do they? And when they leave it’s back to the old pigtails and girly skirts on Atlantic Avenue all over again.” She gestured to Michael. “How long do you think he will last?”

“What are you talking about?” Michael demanded.

“He’s a sweet one, but not very bright. Tell me, Michael, how have you found our fair city since your less than warm reception at Christmas?”

“I seem to recall my reception was almost a little too warm.” Cracked Michael. His wisecrack made no impact on either Sarah nor Michelle’s demeanor. Noting his failure to lighten the mood, he turned serious. “Just trying to find my way.”

“I see that. Perhaps I can help…”

“No!” interjected Sarah forcefully.

“Silence!” barked Michelle and Michael could hear the subtle power of a vampiric discipline at work in her words. Sarah was cowed, stepping back and seeming to lose her voice once more.

“Now then, where were we?” Michelle continued. “Come to my nightclub, the Aegyptus. I will send you an invite; make all the arrangements. We can talk.”

Michael wasn’t sure what to make of this offer, but he figured there was an opportunity here that he didn’t want to miss. He nodded.

“Very well. You’ll hear from me soon.” She turned to Sarah. “Enjoy him while it lasts.” She departed.

“That was odd.” Michael commented. Sarah gave no reply. He moved to fetch the body, expecting her to help him. Sarah stood still.

“You’re absolutely terrified of her.” Michael observed. He grabbed the corpse by the ankles. “She’s gone. Help me with this.”

Sarah shook herself out of her funk and took the body by the wrists. Together they tossed him into a nearby dumpster.

“Don’t go to her.” Said Sarah. “Please.” Her tone was pleading.

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“She’s going to seduce you. Make you one of hers.”

“Might be fun. She’s not hard on the eyes.”

“Don’t be a fool, Michael.” Sarah barked angrily.

“This is rich, coming from someone who lets rapists and molesters have their way with her just so she can get off.”

“So says the gigolo.” She retorted, anger rising in her voice. “You take women all the time, lure them into your confidence to feed and sate your lust. You told Kris they didn’t count. You tell Leigh they don’t count. Deborah knew they didn’t count. I know they don’t count. Why then do mine count?”

Michael had to admit she had a point, but he had no retort to keep the argument going. “Fine. You’re right. I’m being unfair. But what about Michelle. Why is she different?”

“Because she counts, whether you mean her to or not.”

To Chapter Five