Act Three Chapter Seven - Into the Fire

Michael charged into Solomon's bungalow, immediately checking each window to see if anyone had followed. He barely noticed that Solomon was not alone.

"What happened?" said Solomon, immediately noticing Michael's agitation.

"We did not expect you to return so soon." added Maximilian.

"She tried to kill me." answered Michael.

"What?" exclaimed Max in disbelief. "What could you have possibly done to alienate her so?"

"I said no to her. She tried to seduce me and I turned her down."

"And why on Earth did you do that?" asked Max, frustration rising in his voice.

"I can't believe you would say no to that piece of tail." added Solomon.

"I had my reasons."

"And they'd better be good ones." said Max angrily. "That was an opportunity we could have had to get a glimpse into the mind of our enemies."

"I made my own choice. I said no. Then she tried to kill me."

"How?” asked Max.

"Summoned her guards. They attacked me. I fought them off."

"Her guards only? Mortals?" asked Solomon.

"No, a vampire too. A Gangrel."

"Janet Warren." said Max. "What happened then?"

"I ashed her. Took her head with this." He drew his wakisashi.

"Dear God, do you know what you've done?" snarled Max in anger. "You killed her bodyguard, her lover. Damn you. This escalates everything."

"It's not like he had a lot of choice." said a voice. Damian walked inside.

"What are you doing here?" asked Michael and Solomon almost in unison.

"I followed him from the club. Don’t worry. I made sure no one else followed him here." Damian looked at Michael. "Michelle wasn't the first social call I made when I came to town. Max and I are old friends." The persistent scowl on Max's face made Michael doubt the truth of that last statement.

"Still, the boy tells the truth." Damian continued. "He didn't have a whole lot of options other than to fight. Held his own too. He had a little help, but to be honest, I'm not sure he needed it."

"Very well." said Max with an unsatisfied sigh. "Now what? We've killed a Servant and Michelle's not likely to let that go unavenged."

"Well, you could turn the boy over to her.” Suggested Damian coldly. “But somehow I don't think throwing away such a useful asset would be such a good idea."

"Nice to know I'm useful." Retorted Michael sarcastically.

"Be silent!" snapped Max. "Don't tempt me to forget that."

"Your other option is the plan I gave you when I first came to you two nights ago." continued Damian.

"Michelle will never go for it. Not now."

"Perhaps not, but I'll bet the others will. Once she's outvoted, she'll have no choice than to bow to the will of the council."

"What are you talking about?"

"A new Prince," said Damian, "or more accurately, a regent. Someone to hold the throne until a true candidate emerges. After all, we've now got proof that we need one. We're on the brink of war and we need someone to keep the peace, lest the Masquerade be threatened."

"And who would be fool enough to do that?" asked Solomon.

"Why, Solomon, we were thinking you." Said Damian with a sly smile.

"Are you out of your Ventrue mind?"

"Never been more sane. Think about it. Your honor is impeccable. You're honest, fair, truthful. Everything most vampires aren't."

"But everyone will presume I'm in allegiance with Max and the Old Guard coterie."

"Why would they think that?" asked Max. "Because I'm here with you now? Last night, I was at Aegyptus. The night before that at CBN Center. Everyone wants to know what I know. I'm with everybody all the time, trading favors for information. Everyone needs me and no one trusts me. I control the flow of information in this city. Good thing too, because the only souls that know Solomon's true loyalties are in this room."

"That's how you'll take the throne in the end, isn't it?” interjected Michael. “Calling in all those favors. Once everybody owes you..."

Max frowned at the interruption. "Eventually, they'll have no choice." He said. "But the time is not yet. And if it comes down to a shooting war, the Servants outnumber and outgun us. And hell, the Disciples might just join in to gang up on us. I’m not so valuable yet that I can't be killed. If anything, all that I know right now makes me more dangerous than useful."

"So what we need is time." concluded Michael.

"Always." said Damian. "If you want to play the game right, you play the long game."

"Best we lie low for a few nights." added Max. He looked to Solomon. "This place won't be safe any longer. If Damian followed you here, others may have as well. Best find yourself some new havens."

Solomon shrugged. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"And you?" Max looked at Michael.

"I know where I can go."

"Not your club."

"I'm not a complete fool, Max."

"Sometimes I wonder. I'll call the council. See what we can salvage from this night." With that, Max stepped out of the room and vanished from sight.

Michael slammed his fist against the wall in frustration.

"Don't read too much into it, boy. He's always like that." said Damian. "He's just as frustrated as you. Michelle threw his whole time table off tonight. Max doesn't much like getting his plans upset, but it wasn't you that upset them."

"I guess I owe you." said Michael, "for intervening with those two guards."

Damian waved it off. "You might want to be a bit more cautious about throwing that phrase around. You might find yourself in debt to someone who'd ask far too much of you."

"Someone like you?"

"If I was in a far less charitable mood, yes." Damian shot Michael an unsettling grin.

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Somehow I get the feeling you got an education tonight, boy."

"Maybe I did. Maybe I got reminded how much of a pawn I really am."

"Two kinds of people in the world. Pawns and players. One never becomes the latter until they realize they're the former and resent it."

"Well, I'm resenting it. I'm no good to anybody as a pawn. You could teach me."

"Now that's a favor I will demand some recompense for. Why should I try to make you my equal when you might turn on me one day?"

"Because if you're half as smart as you pretend to be, Mr. Drake, you'll not teach me everything. You'll hold a few tricks back as a trump card...just in case."

Damian smiled. "I like you, boy. Very well. I'll meet you at your club tomorrow night. Be ready."

---

Michael sat down in Sarah's parlor. She had accepted his arrival, with all of his things, without question, without even a word. Restless, he stood up again and walked over to the bookshelf. He discovered he could slide some of the shelves apart to reveal a TV and VCR.

Michael returned to his bag and fished out a video tape. Mitch had brought with him a number of various Japanese anime series when he arrived from Charlottesville and Michael was prone to borrow them. He popped the tape in and it began to play. Michael had hoped for a mindless diversion, but as the episode preview began, it was not to be.

Sarah walked in and sat down in silence. "I wondered what I was hearing."

"Sorry. I was looking for some distraction."

"What is this?"

"This is Kimagure Orange Road. It's an anime comedy series."

"From Japan?"

"Yes. It's a story about this high school kid with psychic powers who's caught in a love triangle with two girls. It's kinda dumb. Sweet, innocent."

"That's why you like it." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah, I suppose so. In this episode, they're all off at tennis camp and there's this lecherous teacher who gets a bit too interested in the girls. I know that sounds kind of sleazy, but it comes off as cute the way they do it. "

"As opposed to what you witnessed the other night?"

"This is not proving to be as much of a distraction as I'd hoped." lamented Michael. His tone was half accusatory.

“You’re still angry at me.” She said. Again, not a question.

“No, I’m angry at me.” He said. “I’m angry at my jealousy. I’m angry at being a pawn in the games of other vampires. I’m angry that my life isn’t like this.” He gestured at the screen. "This is what my life used to be like. Innocent, naive, pure. Sex was this thing we all knew we wanted to share with someone special, and we all knew, or thought we knew, who that person was going to be. But then I became a vampire and I got drunk on sex. Drunk on women desiring me. And the innocence vanished. What was left was vulgarity."

“And regret.” She watched him with a sly smile.

“That word again.” Michael frowned. “Why are you smiling?”

“I was right about you. Remember how I told you that some choose this life while others have it thrust upon them. Remember which side of that coin you thought you were on? This conversation is proof of how wrong you were. There’s a part of you, a big part, that still hungers to be human. A part of you that wants that,” She too gestured towards the screen. “Purity, chastity, innocence. It’s what keeps you grounded. It’s what’ll keep you sane.”

“It’s torture.”

“It’s survival. And you know it. The alternative is to give into the beast within you and truly become a monster, mad with bloodlust. We cling to our humanity, in whatever form that clinging takes, to prevent that.”

“You’re starting to sound like my sire; repeating lessons to me that I should have already learned.”

“That shouldn’t surprise you. Do you remember what I showed you with the Tarot the second night you came here?”

“Yes, I remember. That I must have two. A vampire and a mortal. Deborah and Kris are gone, so now it is you and Leigh.”

She nodded. “Yes, one your anchor to the mortal realm you left behind, the other your guide in this new world of the damned. You need both.” She paused and looked down. Her voice seemed to quiver a bit. “Have you chosen another guide now?” She asked uncertainly.

“I also seem to recall you chiding me for a certain lack of awareness.” Replied Michael. “Funny now that shoe is on another foot. The answer should be obvious. I am here. With you. ”

Sarah suddenly came to his side and threw her arms around him. She kissed him, hard, passionately.

“You didn’t?”

“No. I refused her. Almost got me killed to boot.” He pushed Sarah back gently and showed her the wound on his chest.

“By the goddess, what did that to you?”

“Michelle’s Gangrel bodyguard.” Sarah touched the wound, which caused Michael to flinch in pain. “And yes, it hurts just as much as you would think it does.”

“All for me?” She touched his lips with her two forefingers. "It's a dangerous thing to fall in love with a vampire. Remember that."

He smiled. "I suppose I should say the same to you."

She gave a little mirthful chuckle. "Yeah, I suppose so."

----

As much as Michael had looked out of place at Aegyptus the night before, so now did Damian at The Fox Club. He arrived shortly after dark, even before Michael. He took a seat at the bar and waited patiently for Michael to arrive. His black suit coat, red vest and tie, and his ever present silver-capped cane clashed sharply with neo-gothic attire of everyone else there, in style if not in color.

Michael walked in and immediately noticed him. “You’re rather prompt.”

“I aim to be. Shall we?”

“We shall. Come downstairs.” Michael gestured and Damian followed.

“I must admit that I never can quite grasp the barbarity of youth. Every generation is different and yet they’re all the same. No respect for tradition, for true culture, for polite society. The lesser races mingle freely with whites. I do not see what appeal it has to you or others.”

“You are a man out of time, Damian.”

“Most vampires are. One day, you may find the world very much not to your liking.”

“Mortal society will go where it will.”

“We could change that.” Declared Damian. “Change once came slowly. We could make it that way again.”

“Not all of us are so inclined. Some of us like it this way.”

They reached the door to Michael’s office. Damian lit a cigarette as Michael opened the door. “Tell me that again in a hundred years or so.”

Michael ignored that and led him inside. Damian paused to look around, taking another drag on his cigarette.

“An affectation, no doubt.” Commented Michael. “Perhaps you are not so detached from mortals as you pretend to be.”

“Is this the game we play tonight? Find the hypocrisy? And here I thought I was here to teach a rank novice a thing or two about unlife. Tell me, boy, what is the most valuable commodity in the vampire world?”

Michael smiled. “You’re expecting some rank amateur answer, but there’s only one thing a vampire can’t live without: blood.”

Damian smiled. “Good. Proof you’re not a complete fool. The most valuable thing a vampire can possess is a ready supply of precious vitae. Something you have upstairs. How many of them have quenched your thirst?”

“Enough.” Answered Michael curtly.

“Everything a vampire does in the Danse Macabre revolves around blood. Access to hunting grounds is the most valuable gift a Prince can bestow. And it is the competition for those hunting grounds that drives our political games.”

“So Max and all the other competitors for the throne of Tidewater are competing for the best hunting grounds.”

“Of course. And each is trying to persuade or force the others to acknowledge them as the most suited to have that control. Take Michelle for instance and those people she was showing off last night. What do you think those people mean?”

“Thralls.”

“In one form or another, yes. Think, boy, what do they give her?”

“There was an admiral there. From the Navy yards.”

“And what does that tell you?”

“Soldiers. People she can call on to defend her claim. Or take one by force.”

“Good. Now you’re understanding. Who else did she show off?”

“A judge. He can punish another’s thralls more harshly. Rob you of your allies. Police to arrest them.”

“All true, but you’re thinking too much in terms of brute force. While valuable, a kindred must also rely on subtler means.”

“Like Max and his information network?”

“Yes, if you want to know what another kindred in the city is doing, you ask Max and he’ll tell you…for a price. He gains favors, influence, and with those favors he gains access. One tiny piece at a time.”

“So what about me?”

Damian cocked his head with curiosity. “So what about you? What assets do you have?”

“I have the Fox Club, a choice hunting ground. I have a ready flow of cash, access to the black market for drugs, guns, and all sorts of illicit goods. I have a werewolf and a mage as friends and allies. I have other vampires also as allies: Solomon, Max, perhaps Ernie If I’m clever about it.”

Damian nodded. “All good, but you’re missing one thing.”

“No, I’m not. Lastly, I have myself. In Roanoke, I killed Norman, another vampire, in single combat. I thought it a fluke at the time. But now I’ve slain Janet and nearly a dozen of Michelle’s thugs. Of blade and bullet, there are only a handful of vampires in this city that are my equal.”

“You’re starting to understand.”

“I’m only a pawn because I think I am. I could be a player, but I have to choose to be.”

“Good that you’ve figured that out. Because others have already seen your potential and they’re not too keen on the new competition. You put the fear of God into Michelle last night. And she’s going to try to hurt you. Bet on it.”

“The question is how.”

“You already know the answer to that. She’ll want to slap you down hard, which means she’ll go for something valuable. There’s really only one answer.”

Michael was unconvinced of that. He could easily think of many things that, if taken from him, would hurt his chances. The Club was his hunting ground, certainly valuable. But so were Mitch, Boar, Leigh, even Virgil. And although the former two would prove most formidable, there were ways to harm them nonetheless. And then there were his thralls and friends still in Roanoke and Blacksburg…

“Don’t hurt yourself in thinking about it too hard.” Said Damian in jest. “The truth is, Michelle is far more seasoned at this than you are. A hard lesson is coming, Michael, but we learn best by surviving what is thrown at us. Only the most seasoned and experienced of us have learned to anticipate all angles. You may divine her target, but not her mechanism. You may divine her means, but not her target.”

“So you’re saying being proactive about this is pointless?”

“To some degree, yes. I’ve seen nearly two centuries on this Earth and even I cannot predict all ends. Take Max, for instance, and how he plays the game. How many favors do you suppose he is owed by the kindred of this city?”

“More than you can count.”

“Indeed. Imagine how complex his moves could be when he starts pulling strings.”

“Maybe he has.”

“Oh?”

“It’s very obvious he wants Lazarus’ throne.”

“Of course. The one constant, as we began our conversation, is the quest for power. With power comes security. With power comes blood unlimited. So, of course he wants the throne. So do the rest of the primogen, as do probably every kindred in this city.”

“Including yourself.”

Damian answered that with a sly grin.

“The primogen are probably the only ones with a realistic shot.” Said Michael.

“True.”

“So which one of them killed Lazarus? They’ve all had motive, the venue and circumstances surrounding the Christmas party gave them opportunity.”

“And you think Max is the one to act?”

“If his network of favors is as extensive as he lets on, he could have it done and none would be able to trace it back to him.”

“And everyone in the city knows that. Perception is often more important than truth. Everyone’s watching Max. Best to cast that suspicion elsewhere.”

“Ernie.” Said Michael.

“A good choice. Doesn’t hurt that he could be just as guilty, you know. It would be just up his alley to kill the Prince for no other reason than because of the chaos it would create.”

“So who do you think did it?”

“In the end, it won’t matter. The Prince is dead. All that matters now is who ends up on top once all this is sorted out.”

---

Maximilian looked over the invoice, trying to discern its full meaning. It had been given to him by one of his hundreds of secret thralls, all placed in various parts of the cities, there to do much of his spying for him.

He sensed someone approach. Quickly, he thrust the paper into the candle flame, fighting back the bestial fear that came upon him as he saw the paper alight. Whatever secrets it held would remain elusive.

“There was no need to destroy that on my account, mon aime.” Said the intruder.

“My business is secrets. Business would prove very poor if I merely gave them away for free.”

“Secrets,” said the stranger with a mildly irritated tone. “If one is interested in selling their wares, you might consider making your location a little less secretive. Raoul and I have been scouring the city for two nights in an effort to find you.”

“I know.” Said Max. “But I have been indisposed these past nights with new developments.” He paused and stared at the stranger. The stranger was tall, blonde, and good looking; all gifts of his Daeva heritage. The second silent vampire that followed behind him was equally handsome. Both carried themselves with an air of aristocratic indifference. Max smiled. “Still, with those developments, I am most pleased to see the both of you. I trust you left your affairs in Richmond in good order.”

Guy du Savoy was the closest thing the Virginia capital had to a vampire prince. Like Roanoke, it was a hermitage city with only a small handful of the undead in residence. “If any of those fledglings wish to ‘rule’ in my absence, let them.” He replied with apathy. “There is little damage they can do and none are strong enough to resist my return when I am no longer needed here.”

“Good.” Said Max. His concern was not entirely altruistic. After all, if Guy had risked much in answering Max’s summons, the price for calling in the favor would be all the higher.

“So what are these developments that make my presence so much more necessary?” asked Guy.

Max frowned; he needed Guy’s aid and Guy knew it. Perhaps the cost of the favor would be high after all. “The situation has escalated. The novice from Roanoke has slain a Servant.”

“Blood will call for blood.” Guy stated the obvious.

“Michael would be difficult to attack directly. He is a strong fighter and surrounds himself with equally strong fighters. But his holdings in the city are vulnerable and he has a certain sentimentality common to kindred of his young age.”

“Love.” Said Guy with a grin. “For a mortal? Or for kindred?”

“Several mortals. Some friends. Some lovers. And one kindred. The witch Sarah.”

“Yes, I think I remember her. Embraced as a child, oui?” Guy sighed. “This novice will have to fend for himself. If he is strong, then he will emerge the stronger. If he is weak, then you should not waste energy saving him.”

“I do not plan to. Damian seems to have taken him under his wing.”

“Drake? When did he arrive?”

“Three or four days ago.”

“His loyalty?”

“To himself as always. Like a shark, he senses blood in the water and has come to feast.” Max paused. “His presence is part of the problem. If he decides he has better opportunities siding with our enemies…”

Guy shrugged. “You cannot help that. But now Guy is here. We have been allies for many decades, mon aime. I am your humble servant, a tool at your disposal, and a weapon in your arsenal.”

“And your price?” said Max, suspiciously.

“No more than you can afford.” Dismissed Guy. “Now, what shall I do for you?”

“Two nights hence, the primogen council will meet; an emergency meeting of my calling. Ostensibly, this meeting will address the growing violence between the factions of the city. Francois’s disappearance and Janet’s final death are dangerous omens. I will propose a regent to oversee us in the near term.”

“And you have someone in mind, I presume.”

“Solomon Wolfe.”

“The Gangrel wanderer? Ah, ‘tis a good choice. Guileless, honest, but your enemies on the council will presume he is yours, which I’m sure he is.”

Max nodded. “But no other kindred save Francois even remotely has his reputation for fairness. Francois is gone, vanished into thin air. That leaves only Solomon. They will not dare refuse him. We need him…all of us. No faction is in position to seize the throne as yet and open conflict in the streets at this early stage could ruin everything. The only worry is Michelle and the Servants.”

Guy sighed with disappointment. “Such a sad thing. I come down here to spend time with my countrymen, only to find one missing and another declared my enemy. Why are we French made to suffer so?”

Max ignored Guy’s lament. “You will move against her.”

“And Solomon?”

“Does not know you are here. Besides, he is mine and will be discouraged from looking for you.”

Guy nodded. “It will be done. But I do have one question. Something that has been nagging me since I first received your summons.”

“And that is?”

“My missing countryman, Francois. The prince’s bodyguard and the city sheriff goes missing two weeks, three weeks ago now. And now an escalation of hostilities. These are not coincidences, I think. Oh, your novice friend was foolish, I have no doubt. But it would have happened, if not to him then to someone else. It was meant to be because someone wants it that way.”

“No doubt.” Said Max.

“I know you are too clever not to have realized these things. But the question remains, unanswered in your mind as much as in mine. Who?”

“The answer should be obvious.” Said Max. “Lazarus’ killer.”

“You are too smart to presume that.” Said Guy. “If for no other reason…Ernie. Whenever he is present, all assumptions go out the window.”

“And what if he’s the assassin?”

“Then I would want to know who he wants to sit Lazarus’ throne. And woe be to anyone who stands in the way of that.”

---

Michael could list probably a hundred other places he would rather be on this night than standing outside Nightstyles. Maximilian had called the council together to make his proposal. He then demanded his and Solomon presence at that meeting. Solomon, he understood. Michael knew the plan, knew what Max intended to propose to his peers that night. He did not know why he was there and that disturbed him.

Several large men in dark suits with sunglasses stood outside the club. Michael found their wearing sunglasses after dark somewhat amusing, but it was clear these men were meant to intimidate. Still, he could tell they were mortal; probably there to keep the bustling tourists away from the club more than anything.

“Weapons check.” The guard demanded of Maximilian. Max spread his arms without a word. His ratty old suit would have not have hidden much, as moth-eaten and holey as it was. The guard was content and let him pass.

Seeing his “mentor” raise no objection, Michael decided to cooperate. Trusting Max on this night may not have been wise, but Michael figured there was little to be gained by resistance. He reached under his jacket and drew out his wakisashi and his new Beretta (replacing the one he'd discarded at Michelle's) and handed them over to the guard.

“I’ll want those back.” Said Michael. The guard ignored him.

Solomon likewise surrendered his survival knife and revolver.

“So, why the extra security?” Michael wondered to Solomon after they stepped inside.

“Given the volatile nature of conditions in the city, I felt it warranted.” Said a voice. It was Damian, stepping out of the shadows. “And, as I am a still largely neutral party, none of the primogen raised objection to me bringing along a few of my men.”

“Neutral and newly arrived and yet already they owe you.” Observed Michael.

“A vampire of my stature soon collects boons no matter where I go.” Smiled Damian. “Although this is a small favor. More for show than anything. The august company here assembled will not be discouraged from violence by the presence of a few ghoul guards…if they are so inclined.”

“I suppose not.”

Max, who had gotten ahead of them, now returned. “Michael, Solomon, remain here. I will summon you each in turn.” With that, he departed again.

“There will be few secrets tonight,” observed Damian, cocking his head as if to listen through the walls. Michael too could hear the muffled voices in the meeting room and could make out what they were saying with a small bit of effort.

“Why then am I here?” wondered Michael aloud.

“That should become obvious quite soon.”

It did. One voice in the room soon grew louder: Michelle.

“This is a waste of time, as it has always been.” She began. Her voice rose as she continued. “Unless, of course, you have come to surrender the murderer into my hands.”

“He is here.” Answered Max flatly.

“Colleagues, fellow primogen, I demand this Michael Allens be turned over to me.”

“For what crime?” retorted Max. “For defending himself from your predations? You pathetic fool. You sent your beloved Janet against him with nothing but ignorance of his prowess. Your folly is the only crime here. Michael is guilty of no more than any of us would have done. He defended himself.”

“Lies. You should know better, Maximilian, than to believe his tale over mine.”

“It would seem to me that proving the truth of these accusations is going to prove somewhat difficult.” Interjected another voice.

“Thomas Calderon.” Added Solomon for Michael’s benefit. “Successor of Lillian and the new primogen of Newport News. He leads the Anarch faction.”

“This bickering is pointless.” Said another voice. Solomon again filled in the blank for Michael, identifying him as Hiroshi Takagi of the Disciples, primogen of Hampton. “I doubt you called this meeting, Max, to have your ally berated and accused by Michelle. What is your purpose tonight?”

Max cleared his throat. “Regardless of the truth of whatever happened at Aegyptus the other night, it is clear to me that the situation is escalating rapidly. With Francois now unaccounted for, there is no enforcement of any law within the cities. I’m sure we all here understand the dangers of that.”

“What are you proposing then?” asked another male voice: Darrel Mills of Norfolk, another Disciple. “A new sheriff?”

“More than that. A regent, a kindred empowered with all the authority to execute our laws and enforce the peace. Prince in all but name; steward to the throne until a more worthy candidate emerges.”

“Nonsense.” Said Michelle. “We not such fools to appoint you or one of yours to such a position of power.”

“And I am aware of that and would not so insult you to propose such a naked grasp for power. A neutral individual with no ambitions but to serve is what we need.”

“And you hath found such a soul?” asked Shakespeare. “So rare this individual must be.”

“Damian?” queried Darrel.

“Bah!” spat Max. “Neutral he may be. But one can hardly say he is without ambition. He flits ever about the cities of Virginia looking for openings to expand his prestige.”

Below, Damian put his hand on his heart and feigned offense. “And to think I’ve offered him so much.” He whispered in a mocking tone. “All part of the game…” he mouthed silently to Michael.

Michael, of course, had already figured that out, and yet doubted that Max had said anything he did not sincerely believe. The deadliest tales are the true ones, Michael reasoned.

“Who then?” said Shakes. “Speak! Is it my lord and master Ernie? He is of neutral bent, taking no sides in our petty quarrels.”

“Lord, no!” interjected Hiroshi. “His madness would have us all dead and a stuffed rabbit made prince.” Hiroshi chuckled at his own jest, but no one doubted there was truth in it.

Max brought the conversation back to him. “Solomon Wolfe.”

“The Gangrel mercenary?” queried Thomas, as if he hadn’t heard Max correctly.

“I think he would prefer the term ‘revolutionary,’ but yes, the very one.”

“And he’s yours.” Accused Michelle. “Feign insult or ignorance all you want, Max. You would not propose this if you had not planned each step.”

“Amazing that you would have information about his loyalties that I, who prides himself on his spy network, does not have.” Retorted Max.

“She’s right. He is known associate of the neonate Michael Allens and his loyalties are known.” Said Thomas. “After all, it was your aid that allowed him to lay claim to Lillian’s assets, including the Fox Club.” There was bitterness in his tone.

“I am not denying that Michael owes me much,” said Max, “and it is well known he and Solomon have known each other since before their flight from Roanoke. But there is no evidence they share allegiances. And besides, you presume the elder would follow the lead of the younger in this? I think we would all find that unlikely.”

“More likely the reverse.” Agreed Michelle. “No doubt Michael follows Solomon’s lead here.”

“Solomon did introduce Michael and I, but that is all.” Said Max. He leaned forward. “Let us come to the truth that remains unspoken. Obviously, with this as much as the accusations against Michael, it is a matter of her word verses mine. But none of us here are so foolish to not know that each here present seeks the throne of Lazarus for ourselves. So I ask you, which is the greater danger? To possibly place me a step closer to that goal or to let chaos rule our city? Janet Warren is the first to fall, perhaps preceded by our esteemed sheriff. Neither of them will be the last if we leave things as they are. Will your plans and schemes survive that reaving?”

“I, for one, will take my chances with the chaos.” Said Michelle.

“Bloodlust blinds you, as I feared it would.” Said Max. “And if I offered up Michael to you, would that change your mind?”

In the room below, Michael shot upright in rage and surprise. Damian motioned for calm. “Part of the game…” he mouthed again.

“It might.” Said Michelle.

“Then let us come to an accord. What say each of you to my proposal?” said Max.

“Solomon will be regent.” Said Hiroshi. “It is a wise proposal.”

“I say nay.” Said Shakes. “Despite your insults, my lord Ernie would serve better.”

“Most curious.” Muttered Damian below.

“I vote yes.” Said Darrel.

“I do not.” said Thomas. “I’ve learned long ago never to trust the word of Maximilian, no matter how sensible his proposal.”

“That leaves me. Three yes to two no.” said Michelle. “Did you know I would be the deciding vote?” she asked Max pointedly. “My word is yes, but only if all actions taken by the Servants against Michael Allens are exempt from Solomon’s oversight.”

“Save those that endanger the Masquerade.” Added Shakes.

“Of course.” Replied Michelle. “I would never violate our most sacred law, not even in this matter.”

“Done.” Said Max. “He’s yours, if you can take him.”

“Son of a bitch sold me out.” Snarled Michael below.

“Not exactly.” Said Damian. “We all heard it, as did those above. ‘Exempt from Solomon’s oversight’ but Max is still free to support you if he chooses. Here is your moment, Michael. Time to prove you are as much a player as you aspire to be.”

---

Michael returned to the Fox Club, his mind full of worries. Damian had been right. Max had played his cards very well. While Solomon could not protect him, no others were prevented from doing so. “He’s yours if you can take him;” it was as much a taunt as anything, a dare to Michelle and her Servants to challenge him.

Michael tried to not anticipate Michelle’s next move, but failed miserably at it. Would she come after the Club? If so, how? Shut them down with her government contacts? Run a scandalous expose in the local paper? Send an arsonist to torch the place?

Or maybe she’d come after one of his friends. Mitch was still trying to find the mysterious wizard he called a “lich.” That meant he was often scouring the city or meeting with other wizards alone. He might be vulnerable. But would Michelle risk angering the mages? Was it worth it to get to Michael?

Michael’s head was starting to hurt as he sat at the bar and watched the Friday night crowd enjoying themselves. He nursed his drink, a Captain and Coke. The alcohol, of course, had no effect on his vampiric system and its pleasant taste alone was not enough to distract his frantic mind.

There was something present however that might. Michael glanced down the bar to see a tasty morsel, a girl probably 14 or 15. She was a little young for the usual crowd at the Fox Club, but Michael didn’t mind. She was cute, black hair with pink highlights, nice makeup, hoop earrings. The turquoise halter top she wore showed off the softness of her skin and Michael hungered. He hungered for her flesh and for her blood.

He smiled and reached out with his vampiric power. Her response was immediate. She turned to him and returned the smile. “You seem a little out of place here.” Michael commented.

The girl’s expression became one of anxiety. “Oh, don’t be so nervous. It’s not like we check here. We don’t card and the cops look the other way. Can I get you something?”

“Just a pop.”

“What did I just tell you? Don’t be so timid. Besides, you’re from out of town. Live a little!”

“A screwdriver then.”

“On me.” Interjected Michael.

“Sure, boss.” Said the bartender.

“Boss?” said the girl.

“Name’s Michael. I own the club.”

“Wow. You’re younger than I would have thought.” She said. “I’m Adeline. I’m here with my sister.”

“On vacation and on your own for a night, no doubt.”

“Yeah.” She said timidly. The bartender handed her drink to her and she took a swig. “Live a little.” She repeated.

“Such an easy mark. She’s nervous now because she likes me and hopes the booze will calm her nerves.” Michael thought, analyzing her. “So, away from the parents for a few hours…”

“Yeah, they’re such a drag. Come to the beach, tons of cute guys, and I can’t go anywhere without them hovering over me all the time. Nikki managed to talk them into letting us go for the night. They think we’re at the boardwalk, but we came up here instead.”

“Plenty of cute guys here.” Observed Michael.

“Yeah,” she took another drink and nervously began to play with her hair.

“You don’t play poker, I take?”

Adeline gave him a confused look. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Michael moved in closer, close enough to feel her breath on his face. “You don’t have a good 'poker face,' Adeline. That is, you don't hide your emotions very well. You talk about ‘cute guys,’ but I think you’re only after one.”

“Yeah, kinda…” she giggled nervously.

Michael laughed. Her giggle was infectious. “So, why play the game any longer? Let’s go someplace a little more private.” He suggested.

Adeline tipped back her glass and finished her drink in two quick gulps. “Ok.”

“You can really put it away.” Observed Michael.

Gone were the nerves. Now it was just swagger. “I have my moments.” She lied. Michael doubted she’d ever had a drink that strong before. No matter. She was his and he knew it.

He took her down to the private rooms. She could barely keep her feet; drinking the screwdriver so quickly was clearly going to her head. He pressed her hard against the door and smothered her mouth with his. Adeline was taken off guard, but submitted to his kiss quickly. Michael reached around her and hit the door handle. She tumbled away from him onto the mattress within.

“Uff!” she let out as she landed. Michael smiled and stepped inside. “Aren’t we eager?” she commented, a slight slur on her words.

“Very.” He replied, unfastening his pants.

To Chapter Eight