Yay, I'm ready to start!

Well, technically, I have started on Act Three, writing most of the first three chapters. Given they were little more than extended "Last time on..." scenes to advance the timeline forward to March 1999, they didn't take much planning.

The rest of Act Three, as predicted, took a lot more work.

At present, I'm attempting to interweave no less than six major plot lines dealing with Ernie, the werewolves (including a new werewolf villain), TFV (yes, they're back), the Malleus (and a new villain here too), Walsh, the Brotherhood, the Consilium, and (oh yeah) Michael Allens. It's what I wanted, an Act Three that was at least as epic as Act Two. I've done better than that. It's more epic.

And it has an epic body count to boot. I'm still a long way from matching my idol (GRRM) in that department, but it's a good start.

Now, it's time to put pixel-to-screen and get these plot lines written rather than just outlined. That'll take time too, but I've got 2015 on the horizon and plenty of time and energy.

P.S. One change I'll be making retroactively is to rename Quentin and Alice. When they were initially created as one-off cameo characters, I didn't mind lifting their names directly from The Magician's trilogy. Now that they've evolved into major characters in my story, I'm much less comfortable with that so I'm going to rework the names to look less like a blatant rip-off.

P.P.S. Speaking of renames, there's also a character that was introduced briefly way back in Act Two Chapter Nine of Virginia by Night that's going to make a major impact on Act Three and Four of Philly by Night. Problem is, I keep duplicating male names, particularly those that start with the letter D. Having multiple Darrens and Darrels (Daryl?) was getting annoying. So Michael's old childhood friend Darren is now David and the old chapter has been updated appropriately. I don't like going back to do retcons, but this one was a pretty minor one that'll pay off later. (This proved to me more major than I though. "David" showed up in casual mentions in several locations outside of his initial appearance. I also found numerous places where the real Darrel [primogen in Va Beach] and Darren [mage apprentice in Blacksburg] got their names jumbled up. All is now corrected.)

Philly by Night Portrait Project - Part Five

At this point, with the end of Act Two, we've nearly wrapped up all our major characters (and nearly all the minor characters too. Check out the updates here and here).

Audrah Leonard

Rebecca's butch lover and thrall, Michael uses her to track Rebecca down at Studio Gothic.

Angela Borgia

The first of Monroe's thrall family that Michael encounters, Angela is a long way from what she appears. I really like this portrait. It gives an image of someone who's a little sexually ambiguous, which is what you want for a transsexual individual.

Antino Borgia

Dirty old man whose perverse appetites not only introduce Michael to the depravity of Monroe's mindset and environs, but also get him killed.

Bernardo Sangiovanni

I wanted to use a stereotype here, your generic greasy Italian mobster. That captures nicely the immensely rich and powerful head of the Sangiovanni faction of Philadelphia.

Gaudino Borgia

For the most active member of Monroe's thrall family (he shows up in Act One alongside Dylan in one of the Philadelphia "cut scenes"), I wanted a particular image in mind. Hauntingly handsome, but not quite right. The blue eyes really drive that paradox home with this portrait.

Ludovica Borgia

Probably the less said here, the better. Ludovica is, of course, the young girl that fully demonstrates how depraved and debauched Monroe and his people are (even more so than her parents, who are the siblings Gaudino and Savina).

Savina Borgia

Gaudino's sister and lover. It's probably obvious that I channeled a bit of Game of Thrones in creating these characters with the whole incest thing.

Angelus Stirling

I wasn't originally going to create this character or really use him in PbN1999 (He has a larger role in PbN2012). But when it came time to introduce the Malleus Malificarum, he was my go-to guy, using Obfuscate to confuse and convince the Malleus leadership that he's the archangel Michael (the pun of his first name is not unintentional).

He's a Sims 4 portrait obviously, but I was really trying for a particular look. Someone aged and hawkish. A bit like the first Doctor Who. I didn't quite get it, but I still like what I came up with.

(Mild spoiler for the future: This guy is a seriously sick fuck too).

Act Two Chapter Title Explanation

Well, the last two chapters of Act Two went up today. Time to give you the run down on what the chapter titles mean and what songs they draw from...

Philadelphia Freedom by Elton John

This one should be really self-explanatory.

Welcome to the Jungle by Guns-N-Roses

"The jungle" of the song is a wild, decadent, and dangerous city, which fits very well with Michael's first nights in Philadelphia.

Drive by The Cars

This is one of those wonderful slow dance songs from the 1980s. It just works for a chapter with a Halloween party where our heroes are all looking to "drive someone home," sometimes with rather dire consequences.

Criminal by Fiona Apple

It was pretty much a universal opinion among my college friends that this was one of the hottest music videos ever filmed. The lyrics fit nicely with Mitch's predicament.

The Perfect Drug by NIN

A few ways you could go with this one. One is Noble's perversity now coming back to destroy him. Two is the return of the temptation for Michael to derive sexual pleasure in murder and death. Three is his surrender to Sarah's demands for their relationship (making her his "perfect drug.")

My Own Prison by Creed

I hate the music to this song, but the lyrics work too well for this chapter. A song of contrition and regret, which fits Michael's mood and the new circumstances of his relationship with Sarah.

Damn I Wish I Was Your Lover by Sophie B. Hawkins

And speaking of hot songs, there probably isn't a single human being out there who hasn't felt like this. It also fits the theme of this chapter, with a number of budding relationships emerging here. Janice wanting Kyle, Boar wanting Natasha, Mitch wanting Trisha, Paul wanting Kathleen, and Kathleen (thanks to Ernie) wanting Michael. You can pretty much imagine any of those characters singing this track.

Disappointed by Electronic

How can you go wrong with a band made up of Johnny Marr (The Smiths) and Bernard Sumner (New Order) with singing on this track by Neil Tennant (Pet Shop Boys)?

Given this is the chapter where Michael receives his first real setbacks in Philadelphia, the idea of being "disappointed" fits nicely. But much like the song (which is about NOT being disappointed), there is a lot happening here that is working to Michael's favor.

The Chemicals Between Us by Bush

I was first introduced to this song via an anime music video I saw at one of the cons I staffed in the late 90s (don't remember precisely which one.) In the video, the "chemicals" are the bond within family. I liked that interpretation. I was quite delighted to find that exact same anime music video on YouTube which is where this link goes.

For me, the "chemicals" are anything that bind us together, sometimes painfully. This chapter was one of connections, Zao to the Brotherhood, Walsh to the Malleus, and related to the music video, Paul to Janice.

Blue Monday by Orgy/New Order

The Orgy cover of this New Order classic would be contemporary with the time of the story, so it's the one on the link.

I've always seen this song being about second-guessing, which is happening a lot in the chapter. Trisha and Mitch fall apart rather spectacularly, Martin pulls a very underhanded trick on Anna, and Michael struggles against Kathleen's obsession and Sarah's schizophrenia.

Yesterday When I was Mad by the Pet Shop Boys

Another somewhat self-explanatory choice. Take your pick as to who this is about: Kathleen, Sarah, or Ernie.

With or Without You by U2

We all know this song and it fits Michael's dilemma nicely. Rebecca or Sarah? He can't live with both and he can't live without them either.

Home by Depeche Mode

Second track from Ultra (out of four) that appears as a chapter title in PbN. As Michael, Sarah, and Rebecca try to forge their "trinity," they all find a certain degree of peace with one another.

The Kids Aren't Alright by The Offspring

As we get a glimpse of Thomas Monroe and his thralls, this could not be a more fitting song. These are some seriously fucked up people.

New York City Boy by the Pet Shop Boys

This is a song about finding a new start in the big city, which is fitting for the closing chapter of Act Two (even if the city in question is Philadelphia and not NYC). It's also something of a gay anthem (the music video couldn't be more gay if it tried), which also fits the aftermath of Michael's encounter with Angela and Rebecca's sexual preferences.

Act Two Chapter Fifteen - New York City Boy

“That was different.” Michael admitted out loud as the sun set the next night. He glanced over to find Angela next to him, nude and sleeping on her belly. From this angle, there was no indication that she was anything but a beautiful but ordinary woman. Ever inch of her was that way, all except for the male organ that poked out from between her legs. Whoever had done the gender-reassignment work to her had done a remarkable job.

Making love to her was as much a shock and surprise to Michael as the rest of his experience on Monroe’s island. She went easy on him, as it were; allowing him to penetrate her, to be the “top.” That was less a shock for Michael’s sensibilities and Angela seemed to relish every minute of it.

After a while, so did Michael. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. Rebecca had always told him he might enjoy a sexual encounter with another man and while Angela wasn’t quite that, it was certainly closer to it than he’d ever gone before. Maybe Rebecca was onto something with all her talk about the fluidity of sexuality. Maybe he wasn’t as straight as he thought.

Michael found that thought mildly disturbing, but also realized there was an upside. More than one in fact. First, it opened up a whole new world of potential prey for him (and all the pleasures that went with that.) Secondly, if he could find his horizons expanded by this encounter, then perhaps Sarah might also open up further with Rebecca.

As arousing as these epiphanies were proving to be, Michael also had to concede that these new debaucheries carried with them their dangers. First off, he had to admit to himself that Monroe was right about him. Those absolutes, those lines Michael would not cross, might also be more permeable than he believed. Likewise, he had to be careful to not let his lustful curiosity blind him to the dangers of his new partnership.

Despite all his talk of family and kinship, Monroe had to know Michael was a threat to him. An elder of his experience and deviousness would not be so naïve as to think that Michael would surrender all his agency and ambition for a few exotic and taboo fucks. He wanted the throne of Philadelphia and Monroe was willing to give it to him, albeit with conditions and strings and demands attached. Under Monroe’s terms, he would become another Baird or Walsh, a mere puppet to the great elder. Despite his verbal agreement of Monroe’s terms the night before, Michael, then and now, found those terms unacceptable.

But they were allies for the near term. Long term however was another story. Michael was going to have to revolt in some way, regain his autonomy. How and whether it would be something small or grandiose was not something he could divine at this early stage, but there would se something. Michael would have to betray Monroe in the future. That was a given.

And Monroe would undoubtedly guess that. As dawn approached, Michael had a moment of trepidation. He would have to sleep surrounded by Monroe’s minions, people he was certain he could not trust. People who might slay him as he slept, vulnerable and unable to escape.

But the day had passed and Michael was still here, so at least for the time being it seemed Monroe would be true to his word. They would remain allies for now, for better or worse.

Angela rolled over as Michael sat up. She was hard and her face eager. “You good for another round?” She asked.

“Did you not have enough last night?” Michael teased, trying to be playful.

“I’m a Borgia and so are you. Insatiable is in our nature.”

“Perhaps so.” Michael conceded. “But I have a different hunger tonight. I must return to the city and to my allies. We have much to prepare.”

“I will take you back. Give me time to shower and dress.” She jumped up and headed for the bathroom. She paused at the door. “There’s no reason I have to shower alone.” She half-pleaded. “We could satisfy my hungers while making ready to satisfy yours.”

Michael found that logic hard to debate. He stood up and followed after her.

---

As Michael disembarked from the boat, Angela followed him ashore. As he walked to his car and she (presumably) to her job at the yacht club, she grabbed his hand, pulled him to her, and kissed him fiercely. “Something to remember me by.” She teased affectionately. She then put an envelope into his hand.

“I was told to give you this. By His Holiness. The next fruits of your partnership with him.” With that, she continued onward.

Michael opened the envelope. Inside was a cryptic series of numbers and letters.

N 40 05 29

W 75 22 11

01 02 99

2100

He wasn’t quite sure what it all meant, but he wasn’t going to worry about it now. He headed to his car to drive over to Studio Gothic.

---

He climbed the steps to the third floor of Rebecca’s club to a delicious sight. On Rebecca’s bed was Sarah, naked, blindfolded, and bound with chains (the usual accouterments of bondage fetishism were often inadequate to the task of restraining a typical kindred). Lying beside her, giving erotic whisperings into her ear was Rebecca, dressed in a skin-tight leather catsuit. Behind Sarah and plowing into her aggressively was Rebecca’s thrall Audrah.

Michael smiled. This was a pleasant surprise to be witnessing. He walked up behind Audrah casually, his eyes never leaving his diminutive lover. He then turned his attention to the thrall, extending his fangs, and biting down on her neck.

He fed only a little bit before releasing her and giving her a gentle shove out of the way. As she slid away from Sarah, Sarah protested. “Dammit, Michael! I know that’s you.”

Of course she did; blindfolded or not, she could still hear his approach with her vampire ears. Michael looked down on her, vulnerable and helpless. He leaned in.

“You have been showing an uncharacteristic fondness for the affections of other women over these last few weeks. I’m beginning to wonder if you remember what I feel like.” He unzipped his pants and entered her.

Sarah gasped. “Oh, no, I haven’t forgotten.” She purred. “Now finish what Audrah started.”

He did so and it did not take long for either of them; Sarah was well primed and Michael, despite having had Angela not an hour earlier, was far too aroused by what he was seeing to hold out for long. After they both reached climax in turn, Michael looked to Rebecca.

“There’s a story here that I’d like to hear. How’d you talk her into this?”

Sarah answered for her. “She asked me to trust her. I did. I was not disappointed.”

Michael reached up and removed Sarah’s blindfold. Her amber eyes locked with his, filled with satisfaction and pleasure. “I’m disappointed I missed all but the last few minutes of this little game.” He said, working her manacles free.

“There’ll be other times.” Said Sarah confidently.

“Besides, I’m sure Monroe’s little whores kept you nicely entertained while you were away.” Added Rebecca.

Michael looked at her sharply. “You knew?”

“There are rumors that he keeps quite the harem on the island.”

“Those rumors likely don’t tell half the story.”

“So what were your adventures like?” queried Sarah. “You wanted our story. Tell us yours.”

“Monroe is a barbarian.” Michael began with disgust on his voice. “There are no taboos in his world, no pleasure that is not indulged. Children run about naked and available for any who would want them. The siblings of his thrall family copulate freely and openly. And some of the women who live there, and presumably some of the men, were not always born that way. There are no lines that he does not tempt you to cross.”

“And which lines did you cross?” asked Sarah with some trepidation.

“Just one.” He answered honestly, locking eyes with Rebecca. “Sort of. The one you’ve been asking me to cross for some time now.”

“You were with a man?”

“Or as close as I’ve come to it. He is now nearly a she. All but one part.”

“The stories we’ve heard about Thomas Monroe don’t tell that part.” Said Sarah. “They don’t talk about how much of a libertine he apparently is.”

“They do here.” Added Rebecca.

“And we should have guessed.” Interjected Michael. “Mathias was a sanctimonious self-righteous tyrant. Why would he hate a fellow Lancea if they shared similar goals or were of similar character? Obviously, given their hate, they would not be. Mathias was a true believer, but Monroe is one that uses religion to an end and that end is debauchery. That’s not much of a surprise given his origins. I know his real name, his birth name. I know some of his story now, but on that I must remain silent until I have a conversation with someone. With Deborah.”

“What does she have to do with anything?” asked Rebecca.

“All will be revealed in time. Trust is at the heart of what we are, but it means more than just allowing each other to expand our sexual horizons. Please, there are truths here that cannot be revealed until I have consulted with my sire. Trust me in this.

“In the mean time, we are now in league with Monroe. I made a pact of alliance with him. He will aid us against Ernie and Walsh and the Brotherhood, and we will aid him against Walsh in turn. He is fully aware that Walsh is going to betray him, but like Dylan, he does not know when and how.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense to let Walsh finish Monroe off and then strike at Walsh?” said Sarah. “He is the weaker of the two of them or at least will be in the long run.”

“Perhaps.” Replied Michael. “But that’s moot now. Walsh will be gunning for us after the humiliation we heaped upon him at court two weeks ago. And then there’s the Dark Brotherhood. I have no proof, but my instincts tell me they are at the heart of all this. Mitch says they worship and serve a real genuine honest-to-God demon born out of the pit of hell. Whether it is that or just some twisted creature from the various spirit realms that lie invisible around us, I do not know, but it offers power and it will want something in exchange for that power. If Walsh gives it what it wants, I fear for us all.”

He paused. “Monroe is a monster, twisted beyond comprehension. But despite that, I believe Walsh and his Brotherhood allies are the greater threat. I think Monroe believes that too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be making alliances with the likes of us.”

“So what now?” Rebecca asked.

“Monroe gave me this letter as I left his island.” He pulled the paper from his pocket. “Not sure what it means.”

Sarah peeked at the paper. “Looks like coordinates and a date and time. Forty degrees and change north, Seventy five degrees west. The second of January at 9:00pm.”

“We can track down those coordinates via the internet.” Added Rebecca. “We can find out where that is. Monroe’s arranged a meeting for you. Best not miss it.”

---

Sarah’s instincts had been right. The coordinates pin-pointed a location outside the city, but not far away. It was in King of Prussia, one of the Montgomery County suburbs that lined the northern border of the city. The exact location was a Hilton hotel along Dekalb Pike.

Michael remembered from Dylan’s primer that the northern suburbs were hotly contested between the changelings of Tatiana’s court and the vampires of the Sangiovanni family/coterie. The massive King of Prussia mall, one of the largest in the United States, was said to be prime changeling territory and it was less than half a mile away from where Michael now found himself.

Thus, he was somewhat nervous as he walked inside the hotel lobby. Still, he figured this was some sort of meet-and-greet for the Sangiovanni, who Michael noted had been absent at both Art Museum events. Monroe had set up some manner of meeting, perhaps to secure funds to better establish Michael in the city. That would largely be unnecessary; Michael still had the vast majority of his $10 million from selling Nightstyles. But it didn’t hurt to see what more he could get out of Monroe’s secretive allies.

Sarah and Rebecca came up behind him. Michael looked back to Rebecca in particular and noted she was being hyper-vigilant as well, her eyes constantly darting about looking for potential threats. The lobby of the hotel was reasonably full for the time of night, most of them folks who had lingered for an extra day or two after the New Years festivities. Among them, neither Michael nor Rebecca spotted any obvious changelings.

They did not see any vampires either.

Michael moved over to the lobby’s sofa and took a seat. Sarah and Rebecca both flanked him, sitting down themselves. Rather boastfully, Michael spread out his arms and made an obvious show of embracing the two women to him. Across from them, a man with a newspaper dog-eared the corner of his paper to glare at them with some envy, but no one else much cared.

“I thought that would make an impression.” Michael whispered with disappointment.

“Show off.” Teased Sarah.

A young man in a dark sport coat emerged from down the hall. He glanced about the crowded lobby before his eyes settled on Michael and his entourage. He advanced on them, a deliberateness in his stride. Michael untangled from his lovers and stood up.

“Mr. Allens?” The man asked.

Michael nodded.

“We are pleased you could be here. I am Gabriel Levine. I am an employee of Mr. Bernardo Sangiovanni, who awaits upstairs. Would you and your companions please come with me.”

Michael followed, as did Sarah and Rebecca. After being swamped with Italians at Monroe’s island, Michael was surprised to find the Sangiovanni, a bloodline whose origins also lay in Medieval Italy, to have a Jewish employee. Although there were those old stereotypes about Jews and banking, stereotypes born out of old Roman Catholic laws that prevented Jews from owning farmland and forbade Christians from lending money with interest. Michael wondered if this was all interconnected somehow.

Levine led them up to the penthouse suite and opened the door for them. At that point, he took his leave and let the trio enter the room unaccompanied. The main room of the suite was empty, but they could hear someone mulling about in the adjoining bedroom.

A small dark-haired man emerged. He was not attractive in any way, but his eyes were dark as midnight and sharp, not missing a single thing. He was well-dressed in a suit that probably cost as much as Michael’s rare muscle car.

“Good evening.” He said in greeting. “I am Bernardo Sangiovanni.”

“Michael Allens. Rebecca Philips. Sarah Cobbler.”

“A Carthian and two Invaders.” Noted Bernardo, clearly up to date on their coterie memberships. “Monroe asked me to meet with you, and I’m going to guess that he left it vague enough so that you did not know you would have no need of your bodyguards.”

“More consorts than bodyguards.” Replied Michael. “But you’re right about being vague. Not even an address, just coordinates on a map.”

“He does like to play games with people. A puzzle you clearly figured out. Good. I’m also guessing he did not tell you why you are here.”

“Not a word.”

“And yet you came anyway.”

“Call me curious.”

“A dangerous trait, but sometimes quite rewarding. Tonight will prove the latter, I think you will find. Sit. I can summon up a few tasty morsels if you desire blood. Or we can settle for mortal food and drink if you’d like. I have some Cognac and some single malt Scotch here, or I can obtain something else if you desire.”

“You are a generous host. Thank you, but not necessary.” Said Michael as he sat. As they had downstairs, Rebecca and Sarah flanked him. “So why am I here?”

“In the almost three months since you have arrived, you have outmaneuvered Walsh at nearly every turn. He confined you and yours to a backwater suburb and you almost immediately snatched two additional territories out from under their previous owners. And while Villanova and Bala Cynwyd have their value as hunting grounds, you have no economic powerbase in this city. No property, no mortal allies beyond those you brought with you. Yes, you have a coalition with some of the mages and werewolves, but you are still largely unestablished here. Monroe has asked me to remedy that.”

“And how is that supposed to happen?”

“That will depend largely on you. What do you want? The police? The media? A business? A criminal empire? Many of these things are up for grabs. They’re on the market, their current owners either dead or amenable to the right price.”

“A price you will provide.”

“Precisely.”

“And what are the strings?”

“I think you’re smart enough to know without asking. By making you into a substantial investment for my family, I secure your loyalty. At least for the time being.”

“What you can buy me, you can also take away.”

“Yes, which gives you incentive to hold fast to your agreement to His Holiness. You and I are the only true allies Thomas Monroe has left in this city and neither he nor I are very sure about you. Your reputation for ambition is well known to us.”

“Let’s not mince words.” Said Michael. “You believe I will betray you. You rightly point out that I do have this powerful coalition of allies. I also have my enemies: Walsh, the Dark Brotherhood mages, the Malleus Malificarum hunters. The other kindred of the city trust me no more than you, including the Carthians save for Rebecca here. The whole damned lot of you is terrified of me. And that’s exactly what I wanted.”

Michael paused to let that sink in. “And now you’re all doing everything you can to win my loyalty. Monroe offers carnality and forbidden lusts, knowing that is part of my nature too. You dangle money in the hopes of gaining some leverage and control over me. All this you offer because you’re more afraid of Walsh than you are of me. You want me as your weapon against him. Fine. Mold me as you see fit. I have no interest in betraying Monroe. At the moment, I have nothing to gain by it. I rose to power in Tidewater playing this same game. Prince Maximilian used me, made me similar offers, and here we are again. He gave me the world and now you offer the same. Why would I ever say no?”

“Prince Maximilian betrayed you in time.”

“And yet, I am still here. Perhaps there’s a lesson in that for you and yours.” Michael let the threat dangle. “Let’s just stop pretending that betrayal and treachery isn’t par for the course here. Max supported me, built me up, and then in time turned on me. I’m not so naïve to think you will not do the same. But that’s whenever, some time in the future. That’s down the road a ways, as the folk where I grew up say. Right now is another matter entirely.

“And on that matter, I will accept your gifts. I will do your bidding. And for now and for as long as needed, we can be friends. And when I or you decide we are no longer friends, well, let’s just say that will be an interesting night. Now back to your offer. You ask what I want. I want South Street. I want the club district. That was where I thrived best in Tidewater and I intend to do the same here.”

“Your companion might have her issues with that.”

“We three are one. Rebecca’s club is a beginning. I want one of my own, not to compete with her, but to thrive alongside her.”

“There is some property up for sale.” Added Rebecca. “A few blocks down from Studio Gothic, towards the riverfront. It’s not a club, but it could be fashioned into one with some work.”

“Contractors don’t typically work in the winter time.” Said Bernardo.

“They do if you offer them enough. Buy the property, Mr. Sangiovanni. I’ll foot the bill for the conversion, the architects, the interior designers, the whole works. You’ll own the property, but I’ll collect the profits.”

“Very well. We have an accord then. I will see to it that the paperwork is drawn up and delivered to you.”

---

It wasn’t two weeks before work began on “Club CRASS,” as Michael named it.

The word CRASS was a joke, an acronym highlighting Michael’s musical tastes: Country and Rap Are Stupid Shit. He’d gotten the idea from CBGB, the famous club in New York whose name was also an acronym for “Country, Bluegrass, and Blues.” CBGB however never hosted anyone of those particular genres and Michael hoped that his bit of humor would not prove a likewise reverse prophecy.

Michael had a vision of what this club was to be. New Wave and Eurodance music. A particular Art Deco aesthetic. Neon lights. A bit of Amsterdam meets Miami meets 1920s New York City. He threw himself into the design of the interior, and most nights after the work had begun, he tried to be found on site to guide the construction as best he could into his vision. Being a vampire and unable to move about in daylight made that often tricky.

It was a busy Saturday night on South Street, but Michael was wanting to see the progress thus far. So he took a walk from Studio Gothic down the handful of blocks to the newly purchased Club CRASS. Rebecca elected to join him.

“Wouldn’t you have a bit of work to do tonight?” Michael wondered aloud as they walked.

“My staff can handle it.” She said confidently. “I spend most Saturday nights leaving the work to them and prowling the dance floor for some tasty little thing to bring upstairs.”

“Like Audrah?”

“Little isn’t exactly the word I’d use for her, but yeah.”

“Well, speaking of adjectives used to describe our prey, have you considered snatching up the girl you stole her from? Adrienne definitely fits the bill for tasty.”

“Are you trying to find me a new plaything?”

“Anything to make you happy.” Michael said with a broad smile.

“We’ll see.” As they crossed the street, they spotted a scruffy looking bald man opposite, playing a guitar with a small jar for change. Michael recognized the song he was playing as one he’d heard a lot in church as a teen.

Rebecca stopped, fished out a $100 bill and dropped it into the jar. The man smiled at her, but did not stop playing his song.

“Make sure your people get an extra helping tomorrow.” Said Rebecca to the man. He nodded and then she moved on.

“You know that guy?” Michael asked.

“His name is Jonathan.” She began. “Jonathan Gaines. He runs a street mission a couple blocks up. A good place for the hookers, the homeless, the runaways, and anyone else who lives and works on these streets to go if they need a warm bed and a hot meal.”

“It surprises me that you would care so much.”

Rebecca gave him a sharp look. “Well, maybe the good little church girl inside me isn’t completely gone. Really though, you learn pretty quick on these streets who is predator and who is protector. About eight months ago, I saw a pimp come after Jonathan for harboring one of his girls. Threatened him, beat him, but Jonathan stood his ground and would not let him have her. That pimp was found floating in the Delaware two days later with his throat cut.”

“Your work?”

Rebecca merely smiled in answer to that. “I told Jonathan he would have no more problems like that. I may not agree with his theology or worldview, but he’s the real deal and those are people you want around. He’s one. The Catholic priest that runs the orphanage and school a few blocks south is another; DeGrassi’s his name. They do good work.”

“If they’re too successful, it works against us. We want people to come down here to live it up. Picking up a hooker for a quickie in the back alley is part of that.”

“Yeah, but think of it this way. I’d rather have the girls in my club plying their trade than on the streets. Out here, they belong to their pimps. Inside, I get some say.”

Michael stopped walking. “You know, I think you just gave me an idea.”

She likewise paused. “And that is?”

“What if we were the pimps? What if the girls answered to us? You want to help them like these preachers do? Maybe that’s a way. Treat ‘em good. Clean them up. Take a more reasonable cut from their take than their current pimps do. Gives us money, gives us a ready source of blood, and gives us a powerbase with which to leverage our rivals. Everybody wins.”

“Except the pimps. They won’t be too happy about it.”

“There’s always your blade and the Delaware.”

Rebecca laughed. “I’m going to enjoy our partnership.”

The two walked another 100 feet or so and then turned inside Club CRASS. Work was very preliminary at this stage, but you could start to get the sense of what Michael had envisioned for his club.

“I’m not convinced giving Sangiovanni ownership of the property itself was a good idea.” Said Rebecca, as they looked things over.

“You know he wouldn’t have agreed to anything less.” Michael countered. “We'll figure something out later.”

“I could own two clubs.” Said Rebecca slyly. "Pay off your debt."

“And then give it back to me if I asked real nice?”

“Of course. Hell, I’m in negotiations for the occult shop down the street. Figured that would be a nice little present to give to our dear Sarah.”

“Our Sarah? I like that. If you need some extra funds to secure it…”

“No, I may not have enough to buy you your club right now, but I can handle a little storefront.” She paused and looked at Michael. “You know, I wanted to tell you this. But you astounded me the other night when we met with Sangiovanni. I know I often surprise you with how different I can be from the person I once was, from the person you knew as a human. But holy shit, you can do the same with me. I suppose I should have known, given all that you’ve done as kindred. But damn, Michael, you can be quite a badass. You commanded that room. Sangiovanni is secretly one of the richest people in the world and you handled him with complete confidence. You made him your bitch and that was really cool to see.” She paused again. “This might actually work. We might actually win.”

“Might.” Said Michael. “We’ve not won yet and our enemies are not to be underestimated. But yeah, we’ve got a good shot.”

Act Three

Act Two Chapter Fourteen - The Kids Aren’t Alright

Michael stood by the small dock on the banks of the Delaware River. He’d arrived as soon as he could after dusk. He did not have to wait long. After a few minutes, a small dingy could be seen rowing from the island towards the north shore on which he stood. Michael waited and watched as his ride slowly but surely made its way to him.

The man rowing was ruddy of skin with black hair and beard. His eyes however were bright blue and almost shimmered in the darkness. He pulled the boat to the pier and looked at Michael.

“You are Michael Allens, yes?” he asked. Michael nodded in reply. “Ah, I am Gaudino, servant to his Holiness Thomas Monroe. I am here to accompany you to his island.”

“Then let us not keep his Holiness waiting.” Michael said smoothly. He still found the ecclesiastical title odd, but he figured tonight was his best chance of discovering its origins, among other things.

Michael climbed into the boat somewhat gingerly, trying to avoid dumping himself into the river via the rickety craft. He took a seat and Gaudino began to row back.

“I have been instructed to tell you that his Holiness has been detained by his affairs. You are to have full run of the island, to enjoy its pleasures as you see fit.”

“How generous.” Michael replied, not quite certain to what sort of pleasures Gaudino might be referring.

The rest of the journey passed in silence. They rowed some distance, moving parallel to the mile-long island in an effort to reach its far eastern end. It was not a long journey, maybe ten or so minutes to cross the distance. The island was wooded, but Michael could make out some faint light filtering through the trees. The only structure however that was easily visible in the darkness was the large watchtower-like edifice near the eastern end. That, to all appearances, seemed to be their destination.

Gaudino disembarked first and helped Michael out of the boat. He then set to tying the boat to the pier. As he did so, Michael noted the arrival of another.

This time it was a woman. Like Gaudino, she was dark skinned and haired and Michael suspected that when she spoke her name, it would be something traditionally Italian. Philadelphia was famed for its Italian subculture, but it seemed curious that all Monroe’s servants were of that ethnic group.

“Ah, Michael, this is Savina, my sister.”

Michael gave her a polite nod. “I have free run? How will you find me when Monroe’s affairs are finished?”

“The island is not that big.” Gaudino emphasized. “It will not take long to locate you wherever you are.”

“Very well.” Michael turned his attentions to the island and left the two Italians to their own business. He marched to the end of the pier and began his explorations with the watchtower structure he’d seen from the river. It was stone and appeared to be an abandoned lighthouse. It was in quite a state of disrepair, but Michael could also tell that was a bit of deception. Inside the building, he could see figures moving around behind its darkened windows, likely using their perch scan the river for any who might try to intrude on Monroe’s sanctuary.

Michael then moved past the guard tower down the path. The woods opened up after about 50 feet to reveal a broad open clearing containing several stone buildings and a sculpture garden. None of the buildings appeared to be in great shape, but like the tower, Michael suspected that was intentional. This island was supposed to be abandoned, the former home of a 18^th century eccentric and still privately owned by his descendants. It was off limits to everyone except its owners, who largely left the place to the encroachment of nature.

The first building Michael encountered seemed to be in the best shape of all of them. It was also clearly a mausoleum of some sort. He made his way around the building to its far side, where he found its entrance flanked by two statues. Both statues were of churchmen, garbed in all the finery Catholicism had to offer. Each wore a Papal tiara, but no names adorned the statues. Clearly, the island’s owner was claiming a couple of Popes in their family line. Michael wondered to himself if that was more of the chicanery of the island’s story or if that was reflective of something in Monroe’s background. Given everything else he knew of Monroe, Michael was guessing the latter.

As dignified as the two Popes were, the other statues that adorned the garden next to the mausoleum were as opposite in tone as they could be. Men and women often in the throes of carnal passion. But the scenes were not merely pornographic, they did hold an element of culture. Michael recognized stories he read in mythology and even from the Christian scriptures: the rape of Tamar, Aphrodite and Ares, Osiris’ castration after being murdered by Set, and other stories he’d remembered. Michael smiled in amusement. He’d read many of those tales as a child, but they were rather white-washed for young readers. Seeing them here portrayed so graphically and realistically put a new spin on those old tales.

The statue of Aphrodite caught his attention. It was a remarkable piece of craftsmanship for one thing, as fine a sculpture as Michael had ever seen. So fine that the face seemed familiar to him, as if he’d seen the model for the statue before.

As he was inspecting the statue and wracking his brain trying to figure out who the model might have been, he heard a sound from behind the mausoleum. It was the sound of passionate grunting, as if someone was having a quickie just around the bend. Curious and a little aroused, Michael turned away from the statue to investigate.

Rather than interrupt whoever with his voyeuristic escapade, Michael willed the power of his blood to mask his presence. The shadows about him grew darker and he felt confident he was well concealed. So cloaked, he made his way around the building to see what there was to see.

Michael figured it was Gaudino, given there was a familiarity to the rutting sounds he was hearing. Sure enough, that’s who he found, pressing a young woman against the back wall of the mausoleum. Staring at a man’s bare ass as he fucked was not quite the thrill Michael was seeking however, so he tried to move about so he could get a better look at his paramour. That was when his eyes grew wide. It was no random stranger from the tower that Gaudino was plowing, but the woman he’d introduced as his sister, Savina.

It brought to mind the memories of the near-miss he’d had with his own sister some months earlier. Those memories were as disturbing as the scene in front of him, but perhaps more disturbing still was the fact that Michael found himself growing more turned on at the incest he was witnessing.

Michael shook his head to clear his thoughts and retreated from the scene. “This is repulsive.” He told himself, as if trying to convince his arousal it was so. He no longer questioned what sort of pleasures this island might offer. Between the graphic statuary and what he’d just witnessed between two of the island’s residents, it was now obvious. All manner of debaucheries were to be had here, including a few, Michael guessed, that he’d never had before.

What didn’t fit in the picture were the pieces of piety that he’d seen: the papal statues, Monroe’s ecclesiastical title and finery. Those contrasted sharply with the libertine sights of the island. What sort of kindred was Monroe after all? Nothing seemed to make sense.

Worse by far than the mystery surrounding his host were the temptations the island was offering. Gaudino had made clear that Michael was to “enjoy its pleasures.” Now Michael had a sense of what that might involve. As lustful as he could be, he feared what might lurk around the next corner.

“Where do you draw the line, Michael?” he asked himself aloud. “How far is too far?”

The darkness gave him no answer, nor did Michael’s own troubled mind. The brutality of the statues’ subject matter now unsettled him, as well as the still audible sounds of the siblings’ lovemaking. He decided to move on.

The next building inland was the largest of the stone structures and was likely Monroe’s own home. Figuring that would be his final destination, Michael walked around it to the area beyond, neglecting it in his exploration for the time being.

In the courtyard at the far side of the mansion, Michael found a series of smaller stone structures. To all appearances, these seemed to be family homes, perhaps the residences of Monroe’s mortal servants. The buildings were single story and made of the same dark sandstone as everything else. There were no lights on in any of them; Michael was not entirely sure the island had electricity.

That question was answered almost immediately. Beyond the residences, Michael could see what at first appeared to be a greenhouse. It was well lit, perhaps the source of light that he’d seen from the river earlier. As he drew closer, he could see the vague shapes of people inside through the steamed glass.

Michael walked up to the greenhouse, but found the steam coating was on the inside. Not a surprise since it was likely much warmer inside than out where he was, although the sheer quantity of moisture struck him as odd. He could hear voices and the laughter of children. With that, he put two and two together. Not a greenhouse, but an indoor swimming pool.

Michael made his way around the building until he found a door. He pulled it open and stepped inside. It was as he expected. A small pool, kept warm within a glass building. Perhaps a dozen or so people inside.

Michael looked around. Lounging by the side of the pool were a handful of adult women, each one of them quite pregnant. Given what he’d seen thus far, he was not surprised to find them also quite naked. In fact, the only person in the pool house who had a stitch of clothing on was himself. Not the women, not the men, and also not the children.

One of the men, an older fellow who looked like he could be Gaudino’s elder brother or even father, gave Michael a polite nod, as if to welcome him.

“Hi,” Michael said half-heartedly.

“You must be the visitor his Holiness invited to the island tonight.” Said the man.

Michael nodded. “I am Michael Allens.”

“My name is Dario. We’ve been told to extend you every hospitality. If you’d like, you could join us for a swim.”

Michael paused to consider the offer. As he did so, one of the children jumped on Dario’s back with a loud giggle. It was a little boy and seemed quite delighted with himself. “Come on, Babbo. Play with me!” He insisted.

Dario spun around and grabbed the boy, tickling him as he did so. Were it not for the nudity, Michael might have found the scene before him ordinary and innocent, like thousands of other fathers and sons playing together. But given everything else he’d seen, Michael feared there was another form of play condoned here and if he lingered he might be invited to participate.

“Thanks for the invite, Dario. I’ll think I’ll continue exploring.”

“Have fun.” Said Dario. He then turned his full attention to his son.

“Where do you draw the line?” Michael repeated the question he’d asked himself earlier as he exited the pool house. “Is there a line?”

There did not appear to be much more to see of the island, although well over half of it remained unexplored. The woods closed in again beyond the pool house and there seemed to be little else of interest besides a small shed that Michael guessed was for the gardening staff. As he gave the shed a brief looking over, an older man emerged from it, dressed in dirty overalls and carrying a rake.

Michael gave the man a friendly wave, which was returned in kind. He then  turned and headed towards the mansion to finish out his waiting.

As he made his way down the path, one of the doors of the residences opened and a young girl of about 7 or 8 emerged. Her attire caught his attention, dressed in one of those sundresses that only a small girl could get away with, hanging as low as it did on her chest. That struck Michael as odd, given the time of year and the cool temperature of the evening. She saw him and shot him a polite smile. She then made her way back towards the pool house area.

Perhaps the dress was an easy garment to discard for swimming, given that nudity was normal for the pool. But despite his rationalizations, Michael had another suspicion. He did not want to be right about this fear. He did not want to believe that these children were also participants in the island residents’ depraved behaviors.

But a grim curiosity now drove him. He wanted to make sure. Drawing the cloak of night about him again, Michael turned and followed after the girl.

She did not go to the pool, which drove Michael’s worries to a fever pitch. She instead headed into the woods beyond the shed. Michael continued to follow.

Perhaps another 100 feet into the woods, the trees opened up into a clearing. Here, Michael found the girl and the old gardener together. The girl had never been very far ahead of Michael, but in the short time it had taken for him to catch up with her, the two of them were already well into their tryst. Her sundress was already bunched up about her waist, exposing her chest and nethers to the world. The old man, meanwhile, had doffed his overalls and was fondling the girl between her legs with much enthusiasm. The girl gasped. Whether in pleasure or astonishment, he could not tell.

It was all too much for Michael. He now saw his worries confirmed. There was no line. Not here. Not on this island. Not in the domain of Monroe. Unlike the previous tryst he’d witnessed, there was no arousal in him this time. There was instead anger, disgust, even fury. The wrongness of all it. He would stand for it no longer.

Michael rushed from the tree line towards the couple. Hidden by his vampiric powers, they did not react to his charge. Michael slammed hard into the pair, knocking them apart and making himself visible again. As the man fell backwards, Michael scooped him up and sank his fangs deep into his throat. The girl screamed as Michael drank. He took only a few quick gulps of his vital blood before ripping his throat out and letting the dying man fall to the grass.

He turned to the girl only to find her running in terror back to the woods. Michael let her go. She was the victim here and needed no further trauma tonight after being molested by the decrepit pervert now expiring at Michael’s feet.

Michael wiped the blood from his mouth on the dead man’s shirt and made his way back towards the pool house. He made his way through the woods and then paused at the pool house. He could hear the laughter and fun within, but dared not go inside again. He knew now without any doubt what those children were for. He knew now without any doubt that those pregnant women had likely become so by their own brothers and fathers. This whole place was a nightmare of carnality that sickened him. Even as lustful as he was, he felt this place an abomination.

He was leaving even if he had to swim across the Delaware to get away.

Michael marched north towards the riverbank, but before he could get very far he heard his name called. Michael turned and saw Gaudino coming around the residences towards his general direction.

Michael stood still, his anger and repulsion cooling. He still had many questions of Monroe, more now than ever before. This was going to be his best and perhaps only chance to get those answers. Gaudino spotted him and walked over.

“His Holiness is now ready.”

“As am I.” said Michael coldly. To that answer, Gaudino gave Michael a knowing grin. It was then that Michael noticed he was holding a bit of muddy cloth. It was the girl’s sundress. It had likely fallen off of her completely as she’d run past Gaudino.

Michael said nothing to Gaudino about what did or did not happen between him and the girl, regardless of what his guide believed. Michael gestured towards the palace, to which Gaudino responded by leading the way.

Gaudino opened the large double-doors inside and gestured for Michael to follow. Despite its dilapidated exterior, the interior was exquisite. Fine furniture, ornate woodwork, and paintings to match the statuary outside. Like those statues, the paintings were of debauched scenes from mythology and legend; Michael recognized King Arthur and Morganna conceiving Modred in one. Again, the model for Morganna looked familiar.

Then it hit him. He’d seen her in a painting before, but not here. No, he’d seen her in a painting in an apartment in Roanoke, Virginia. In Deborah’s apartment. The model was Lucy Bonneville, Deborah’s sire and Michael’s grandsire. He was certain of it. Lucy and Monroe had known one another at one point.

“He awaits you upstairs.” Gaudino insisted.

Michael nodded and headed up the ornate stairwell to the second floor. He opened the door at his right at the top and went inside.

Inside, he found the girl from the clearing, naked as the day she was born. She turned to Michael as he walked in, her eyes full of murder and hate. Monroe was in front of her, seated at a desk and dressed in the same cardinal red Santa-Claus-like robe he wore at Walsh’s court.

“That is all, Ludovica.” Dismissed Monroe.

She glared balefully at Michael as she walked away. Michael turned his attentions to Monroe, who sat quietly at his desk, as if expecting an explanation for what the Ludovica had told him. Michael could guess what that was.

“The man was molesting that girl. Violating her.” He growled.

“And you feel this justifies the murder of one of my most devoted servants?” replied Monroe. His tone was surprisingly neutral; there is no anger or animosity in it.

“Rape is never justified.” Michael replied defiantly.

“So, you do have your limits.” Said Monroe. His tone reminded Michael of a scientist looking over a particularly fascinating specimen. “There is a line you will not go beyond.”

Michael now had the strong suspicion that the whole thing had been a test. Monroe had deliberately introduced him to the depravity of the island to see how he’d react. Perhaps, the “affairs” that had kept Monroe occupied for the past couple of hours had been another ruse, one to cover the fact that Monroe had been watching him the entire time. Given the Mekhet clan’s reputation for stealth and secrecy, Michael found that likely. No sense then in trying to hide anything.

“There are not many.” Michael replied candidly. “But that is one of them.”

“And yet, you take to your bed everyday one who is, by all appearances, not much older than our lovely Ludovica.”

“Sarah is not a child. You, who have been kindred for centuries, would understand that our bodies and minds do not always match.”

“So it is the mind that matters to you? The mind must be suitably prepared, must be suitably ready, must be suitably mature, for carnal pleasures. The body’s development is irrelevant.”

“When it comes to kindred, yes.” Michael conceded.

“And if I told you that Ludovica has been so prepared? That she has been sexually active since she could walk? That the other children of this island are also so trained and prepared? This is our way here and it is my will as master of this place.”

Michael frowned. “So debauchery is all that matters to you, your Holiness?” Michael spat the pious title at Monroe like he was using the hypocrisy of it all as a weapon. “And that there should be no limits to any sort of pleasure of the flesh? That’s why I saw the things I saw. Not just Ludovica with a man nearly 10 times her age, but a brother and sister together. What else? Man and beast? Parents with their children?”

“You already know the answer to that.” Monroe looked Michael up and down. “You protest, but I know better. This is what you want. A life without limits. No foolish or antiquated morality to stand between you and your desires.”

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Oh,” retorted Monroe. “I know you far better than you realize. Sit. Let us talk and get to the reason behind why I have asked you to come to my island.”

Michael hesitated at first, but then moved to sit in the proffered chair. “And why is that?”

“Because you and I are very much alike. We are both slave to our vices. We are both ambitious to a fault. Let’s not mince words. Everyone now knows you didn’t come to Philadelphia to play the hero to my beleaguered reign. You came to take advantage of it. Your little stunt with Rebecca at court last week was proof of that.”

“A small demonstration of what I’m capable of.”

Monroe smiled at that, which confused Michael. “You remind me so much of my son. It’s like he’s reincarnated into you. Frighteningly so.”

“So is it affection for me or fear of me that brings me here tonight?”

“A little of both.” Admitted Monroe. “I want to make you an offer.”

“I’ve seen what you offer. I’m not interested.”

Monroe shrugged. “This will go much easier if we do not lie to one another. Do not pretend that you have not thought about indulging in these taboos before. Do not pretend that you would find no pleasure in them.”

“You said yourself there’s a line I won’t cross.”

“And at one time, there was for me as well. No longer. As the years and decades wear on, you too will find your absolutes not so absolute anymore.”

“And you just want to accelerate the process for me?”

“It would make things easier. Listen, this island is but a start. Slowly but surely, I seek to transform this whole city into this. A place where pleasures are to be had by all. This is a city of liberty; that is its founding principle. I want to take that to its logical conclusion. And I’d very much like your help doing that.”

“Mortals will not tolerate what you offer. Child sexuality, incest, these are long held taboos that they would not surrender for anything and with good reason.”

“And yet, as we speak, there are children walking the streets of the city offering themselves to whoever is willing to buy. If it is so objectionable, why does no one care? Behind the closed doors of family homes across this country, fathers and daughters, mothers and sons, brothers and sisters are enjoying the pleasures of one another in secret. I have seen this Internet that everyone is talking about. A wonder of science, and yet it is used to distribute all manner of licentiousness. If sex and carnal pleasures are so taboo, so forbidden, so immoral to humankind, why is this so? I merely wish to make the world more honest.”

“You offer barbarism.”

“Man is a barbarian, if you hadn’t noticed.” Monroe declared forcefully. “As are we kindred. How many have died by your hand, Mr. Allens? How many women have shared your bed? You know barbarism well. You have lived it.”

“I now understand why Mathias hated you.”

Monroe laughed. “Yes, and yet even he, for all his self-righteousness, had a weakness for the ladies. Certain exotic beauties, red of hair, in particular. But you are not like him. You resented his arrogance as much as anyone. There are always those like him. Savonarola reincarnates again and again in every generation, among mortals and kindred.”

“Excuse me?”

“One of my more bitter opponents from my mortal days. Girolamo Savonarola was a Dominican monk living in Florence when I was in Rome. He too wanted to pretend that man was not an animal, that we were destined to something more pure than any human has ever obtained. He took over the city, forced the people into piety, closed brothels, abused any who refused his authority. He defied the church and I had him burned. But he keeps popping up again and again. Mathias is cut from the same cloth, but among the mortals there’s always at least one like him. Edwards, Bryant, Robertson, the names and the generations change, but they’re always around. Honestly, Michael, is that the side you really want to be on?”

“No.” Michael admitted. “But I’m not entirely sure I want to be on your side either. You go too far in the other direction for my tastes.”

Monroe laughed, as if enjoying an inside joke. “How poorly you understand yourself. I’m offering you the desires you’re afraid to admit even to yourself.”

“Again, you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Monroe stood up. “No, Michael, I do and let me show you how well I know you. Walk with me.”

Michael came to his feet slowly and followed Monroe out into the hallway. “Have you not yet guessed who I really am?”

“My grasp of history is sketchy, but I can guess a few things. You surround yourself with the trappings of the medieval church. You prefer to be called ‘Holiness.’ You speak of Italy as your place of origin and your servants all have Italian names. My guess? You were one of the dignitaries of the Roman Catholic church during the Italian Renaissance. Which one I don’t know, but given what I do remember about that time, it places you among some of the most despicable people in human history.”

Monroe laughed again and began to descend the stairs. “You know enough. All that you have said is true. The same year that Christopher Columbus discovered this continent, I arose to the loftiest heights of mortal power. I was master of the whole world. I was not merely a dignitary of the Church, I was its head. The Vicar of Christ himself.”

“You were a Pope?”

“I was. We were, if I were to speak in the proper way, but that was a long time ago. Occasionally, I affect that mannerism again, when the fancy strikes me. Still, I was, for a brief time, ruler of the world.”

“And you used that lofty position to advance your own desires.”

“Of course. What else is it for? Three mistresses. Countless other lovers. Nine children. I played kingmaker, determined the fates of millions. In 1503, I was poisoned by my enemies, but I had long since gained the attentions of one Tiberius Catallus, the kindred Prince of Rome. He came to me by night and offered immortality. I did not refuse his offer.

“For 100 years, I continued to rule. With Tiberius’ blessing, I manipulated events behind the scenes in the Vatican. My allies among the Consistory, even my enemies, became my playthings. But I had a bitter rival among the kindred elite, an ancient Nosferatu from Palestine.”

“Mathias.”

“Yes. He was there with me in Rome, seeking to thwart my every move. Even then, he found my tastes to be an abomination. In 1601, Catallus was overthrown in a sudden coup, his body burned to ashes. An opportunity to succeed my mentor, but I failed. Mathias outmaneuvered me again and I was forced to flee my beloved Rome.”

“Where did you go?”

“My allies, my childer, and I all went to the one place where I could duplicate my influence. If Rome was the spiritual capital of the world, then I must find the world’s political capital. By the beginning of the 17^th century, that meant London. The sun never set on the British Empire, as you may recall. That reality was just beginning. It was there that I took the name Thomas Monroe.”

“And there you remained until, for whatever reason, you came to the United States.”

“1753. Mathias had long since fled Rome when he too was driven out by a change of fortunes. He went to the colonies. When my fortunes changed in London, I came here on the cusp of war with France.”

“One came alone. One came with a small retinue. One came with an army.” Michael repeated, remembering what he’d been told about the three elders.

“Indeed. I found these new lands much to my liking, save for one thing. Mathias had already built up quite a bit of influence and power here. The southern colonies were well under his control. I came north and settled here in Philadelphia.”

“And so your rivalry resumed.”

“Yes. I deposed Antoinette Devonshire during the Revolution and placed my child, Cecil Baird, upon the throne of the city. I spent the next 100 years trying to undermine Mathias, as he did me. Lazarus, my eldest childe, was corrupted and betrayed me. Then Baird also turned on me at the dawn of the 20^th century. All these were maneuvers by Mathias. But I had learned his weakness. I sent my most loyal servant to find a beauty that could entrap Mathias and bring him down once and for all.”

Monroe stopped walking in front of the painting Michael had noticed earlier. “You know this story, I presume?”

“Arthurian legend, like most fantasy stories, has been my bread-and-butter for most of my life. Yes, I know the tale. Morganna, seeking to usurp her brother, lay with him and conceived a demon child named Modred.” Michael paused. “A cautionary tale about the dangers of incest.”

“I suppose that’s one way to look at it. There’s another part of the Arthur legend that seems germane. Lancelot was brought low by his own lust for Arthur’s wife, depriving the king of his greatest champion in his time of need. My plan to destroy Mathias was similar. Give him his greatest desire and watch her destroy him. And that’s precisely what happened. She was the instrument of his downfall.” He gestured to the figure of Morganna.

“Lucy.”

“Your grandsire. She chose Wen Zhang, the exotic beauty she found in a San Francisco brothel to be her weapon. And Wen Zhang chose you to be hers.” Monroe paused. “I know you because I know your pedigree. I know the nature of those who came before you. I know why they would choose you.”

“And how do you know Lucy?” Michael asked bluntly.

“She is my daughter,” said Monroe. “She is the offspring of my mortal body. Her real name is Lucrezia.”

“Borgia.” Whispered Michael, remembering his history.

Monroe smiled. “Yes, now you know who I am and also you know who you are. You are the grandchilde of my mortal daughter. You have been a pawn in my schemes since the moment you were embraced.”

“And yet she is Daeva and you are Mehket.”

“I used my influence in the Roman court to have her turned by a Daeva ally. I was forbidden the embrace at that time, but I found a way around it.”

“So it was all a ruse.” Michael began. “The whole story I was fed about how Deborah fled from her tyrannical sire with Solomon Wolfe’s aid. None of it happened.”

“Oh, don’t think ill of your nomadic friend. Solomon is too guileless for such a plan. Yes, he never killed Lucy, but he was made to think he did. Deborah then brought him to Roanoke, to Mathias to make herself bait in my trap. Precisely what she was embraced for. Her whole purpose in being. And she chose you to aid her in that purpose, to become her soldier, her guardian. And aid her you did.”

“Now that Mathias is gone, what further purpose would you have of any of us?”

“Well, you are here.” Said Monroe, stating the obvious. “You are in my city and it seems such a waste to destroy you, especially since once again I find myself betrayed by one of my own. I can still use you. You have certainly proven your worth. Mathias’ top lieutenants died at your hands. I may need you for that sort of work again.”

“You don’t believe Mathias is dead.”

“It would not be that easy to destroy him. But I have beaten him for now, thanks to you and yours. But he will return and seek his revenge. And then there’s the other great elder to consider.”

“Ernie.”

“A perpetual thorn in both our sides since we set foot on this continent. We both know Ernie has an unhealthy interest in you and we both know that he’s here, in the city, hovering just out of reach. Your refusal of him in Virginia Beach five years ago was only a temporary setback to his plans. He will come again and he will claim what he wants. You, and if he can’t have you, he will take your consort as a consolation prize.”

Michael felt a chill run through him at that implication. It was Sarah’s greatest fear, as he well knew.

“There’s really only one person who can protect you.”

“You.” Michael answered with resignation.

Monroe nodded. “You see, Michael, we need each other. And perhaps that’s how it should be. We are family. You are a Borgia now; adopted perhaps, but still kin. You have a Borgia heart, passionate, ambitious, and debauched. Don’t deny it. Embrace it.”

“Fate, it would seem, offers me little choice in the matter.” Said Michael. “Dylan knew that. That’s why he brought me here.”

“This is where you belong.” Admitted Monroe. “Dylan understood that. Perhaps one day I will gather all my brood together in this place: Deborah, Lucy, your childer, just as I have my mortal descendents. The fruit of my vampire blood have proven most disappointing, but you are another story. Rewards are due and I think you will find them to your liking.”

“And here comes you offer. What is it you’ll give me?”

“A throne.”

“You gave that to Baird and Walsh and they both betrayed you. What makes you so convinced I won’t do the same?”

“Someday perhaps, but right now? No, as I said we need each other. I need you to fend off Walsh and you need me to fend off Ernie and eventually Mathias.”

“You offer what Ernie offered. What makes you so different?”

“I don’t recall you minded much the power and influence his meddling granted you.”

“I didn’t.” Michael admitted.

“Of course not. It’s what you want and it’s what you need. Power will protect those you love. Power will grant you what you desire. And without it, you are nothing but prey. Ernie? Walsh? Mathias? All of them are now gunning for you. You’ve always known this. Take what I offer and we will rise together.” Monroe extended his hand.

Michael hesitated at first. As tyrannical as Mathias had been and as mad as Ernie had been, Michael now felt, no he knew, that he was standing before the most diabolical of all three elders. This was a deal with the devil, a creature so vile and evil that Michael knew he would damn himself by taking him in hand. He knew now that he’d eventually become just like him. But what choice did he have? Ernie was out there, close by, seeking to claim Sarah in her madness. Walsh was not going to easily forget nor forgive the humiliation Rebecca had visited on him at court the week before. The Dark Brotherhood would also likely seek further revenge. The Malleus Malificarum was also still out there, looking for him and his allies.

Solomon’s initial warnings had proven true. He was way over his head in this city. His coalition had won a victory, a good victory, but not the war. Walsh and his other enemies were savvy and powerful, used to playing the long game in ways Michael was unprepared to handle. The only way out now was through a vampire who had proven himself a master at that long game. One whose appetites made Caligula and the Marquis de Sade look tame.

Michael took Monroe in hand. Monroe smiled. “Good. It is as it should be. You and I together. Allies. Friends. Family. Come. A celebration is in order.”

Michael could guess what form that celebration might take and he knew Monroe would find a way to push his moral and ethical limits. He knew without any doubt that he would not leave this island without having at least one of his old taboos broken. Something more of the young morally-upright man he had once been would die here tonight.

Monroe marched into the foyer of the palace. “Savina!” he called. As if she had been expecting his summons, Gaudino’s sister appeared almost immediately. “Summon the women to the palace. All of them.”

“As you wish, Holiness.”

“You will remain with us here as the sun dawns.” Monroe declared to Michael. “And you will have your choice of my family to accompany you to your slumber. Do with her or them as you see fit, but I would rather you not kill another of my servants.”

“Any?” said Michael as the women and girls shuffled into the room. The children and mothers-to-be from the pool arrived first. They wore no more clothing than they had while swimming. Ludovica was next, followed by Angela, the waitress from the yacht club. Savina brought up the rear.

“Savina is mine tonight.” Monroe declared quickly, as if to snatch one of the more conventional options out from under Michael. “Choose from the others.”

Michael glanced over the remaining. Monroe spoke again. “Ludovica would make a fine choice. After all, you denied her pleasure earlier tonight. You owe her.”

Ludovica gave Monroe a disgusted look, as if that was no more appealing to her than it was to Michael. No, not a child. He would not cross that line tonight, if ever.

“Angela.” Michael answered at last. “We were denied a night together not long after I arrived.”

“Ah, yes. I seem to recall her speaking about that at one point. Fine choice.” Monroe’s smile broadened. “I should however inform you of something. Angela is not quite what she seems. Are you, my dear?”

“Not really, your Holiness.” She pulled up her skirt to reveal to Michael what was underneath. Michael’s eyes grew wide.

“Angela,” Monroe explained. “was born Angelo, but as a child, he was a little too fond of dresses and dolls. So Valentino, the head of the family, had him remade at great expense. All except for one part.”

“Everyone’s favorite part.” Angela half-giggled, as if enjoying Michael’s discomfort.

Michael glared at Monroe balefully. Then he let out his breath in resignation.

Angela stepped forward. She took Michael in hand and stroked his cheek. “Am I truly so disgusting?” She asked softly. “We wanted each other once before. My part in that hasn’t changed.”

Michael heard echoes of Sarah in her voice, remembering how she’d pleaded with him to look past her unusual appearance. “I’m guessing I don’t have a choice.” He muttered to no one in particular.

“You made your choice.” Said Monroe devilishly. “Now you get to live with it.”

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