Act Four Chapter Nine - The Reflecting God

“The Djinn has not changed much, skin still black as coal and a soul to match. He is a formidable opponent, Michael. More than you can handle.”

The former student and mentor returned together to Michael’s beach house. Although it was late, the harem girls were out by the pool, enjoying a swim. There was no sign of Julia, who had yet to awaken from her torpid sleep. How long she would be down was anyone’s guess. Solomon and Michael stood on the porch overlooking the pool, watching the women below with disinterest. Their minds were set on the next move.

“He can have Max’s throne for all I care.” replied Michael. “All I want is Rebecca and that blue-eyed mercenary she’s used to spark off the Reign.”

“Mercenary? Who is this?”

“I was hoping you could tell me something. Young looking male, maybe early to mid 30s. Dark hair, blue eyes, has a power over shadows that I’ve never seen before...”

“I know of this vampire. Cranston is his name. He is Lasombra, a rare bloodline of the Mekhet, and their distinguishing power is the one you spoke of. Last I heard he was in Richmond. But with things as fluid and chaotic there as they have been since Thomas Calderon challenged Guy for the throne, it would not surprise me if he jumped ship to Roanoke. That, or Francois is wrong and this is a false flag attack out of Richmond and not Roanoke. Cranston is many things. Clever is one of them. Mercenary is another good word for him. The question is who is pulling his strings. Guy or Thomas might have sensed the same weakness in Max that you do. Cranston may have set all this up to send you running after The Djinn, leaving Tidewater vulnerable.”

“You believe that?”

“No. What I believe is what I told Max. The Djinn is using Roanoke as a stepping stone. He’s long been in the shadows of his master when he himself is as ancient as any of those we call the ‘Great Elders.’ Older perhaps than Monroe, and maybe even Ernie. He’s after bigger fish than that tiny little mountain city.

“Still, we live in a Byzantine world,” Solomon continued, “with plots within plots. Even our schemes have schemes. I know that Guy blames you and Max for the death of Raoul. Thomas hates Max and fears you. Would either of them do something like this? Yes, it’s possible. But I also know Rebecca has little reason to love you and sending a mercenary like Cranson to sick a pack of hunters onto you makes more sense to me than any of it. That it fits with The Djinn’s likely ambitions makes it all the more likely.”

“And now I go to stop them.” Michael looked back at his old mentor. “Are you with me on this, old friend?”

“Before I answer, let me ask you a question. Why should I be?” Solomon looked sharply at Michael. “Propping up Max isn’t exactly a revolutionary act. And if we’re right about The Djinn’s plans, Deborah will soon sit on the throne we set out to give her. Vengeance on Rebecca, however justified, isn’t my line either.”

Michael wasn’t expecting that. In his astonishment, he had no answer to offer.

Solomon continued. “What keeps me human is my dedication to an ideal. You will find that true for you as well, and maybe you already have. Marrying another vampire is unorthodox, almost unheard of among our kind. But I know it was the right thing for you to do. My prayer for you, my friend, is that you not lose yourself in all this. All these schemes and plots and coups. Nor should you lose yourself to your grief. My anchor in this mad universe is to see a new world emerge for vampire and mortal. Yours...if I may be so bold...is to be loved.” Solomon chuckled for a moment. “In many ways, yours is the more impossible wish. Revolution is easy. Love for monsters who drink blood and hide from the light, that’s hard.”

“Love may be my ideal, but revolution isn’t the only one of yours.” Michael continued quickly before Solomon could answer. “You see, I’ve seen two sides of you. The rebel, the revolutionary dedicated to change for its own sake. But I’ve also seen the honorable one whose word is his bond. Whose loyalty to friend and ally is paramount. What I seek to do may not appeal much to the revolutionary, but that’s not your only ideal. You pledged to Deborah’s cause once. That’s the part of you I’m pleading with now.”

Solomon chuckled. “And there’s the argument you needed to make. You’ll hold me to my word. Very well. But do you know why I made that pledge to her?”

“You and I are not so different, Solomon.” Observed Michael. “Perhaps you see in me what you once were: an idealistic romantic. You pledged to Deborah because you once loved her. Maybe you still do.”

“Then what happens after we win? Who claims the prize?” asked Solomon. “Who claims her?”

“Are you really going to give up the road for her?”

“I might.” He said. “For a time anyway. I’ve been fighting this battle for a hundred years. I could use a break, a time to recharge and refocus. A nice little hermitage city with little intrigue like Roanoke might provide that. And an old lover to keep me company on my holiday.”

“And you’re wondering if I would stand in your way?” asked Michael. “My bride is dead and I go to destroy another of my lovers. Would I seek solace from those torments in my sire’s arms? I can’t say that’s not tempting, but that’s not why I’m going. I go for wrath, for vengeance, and between my harem and a whole university of available young women, I think I can find other outlets for my future lusts. I won’t stand in your way.” Michael paused. “But let’s consider also that Deborah has a say in this. Whatever we decide may mean nothing in the end.”

“True. But I trust you’ll not fault me a bit of hope.”

“Fault you? No, in some ways I envy you. The one I love is now forever denied me. You still have a chance, perhaps slim, perhaps not, of reclaiming what you once had.”

“I’m sorry for your loss, Michael. I truly am.” Solomon paused for some time and then looked up at the night sky. “The road calls. I must be on my way.”

“You’re not remaining in Tidewater?”

“No. I have an advantage you do not and it may be very important to our plans. As a nomad who often wanders from city to city, I will likely not be suspected of any collaboration with you. It was, after all, Ernie who schemed to liberate you from Mathias’ justice, not me. I can be your spy in The Djinn’s court. So I think it best I get myself to Roanoke ahead of you.”

“I don’t know yet when I’ll be on the move.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll find you when the time comes.” With that, Solomon headed out the door to his motorcycle. Michael watched as his old mentor mounted up and drove off into the night.

---

Guy du Savoy sat at his desk in his lavish salon. An unnatural darkness suddenly enveloped the balcony outside before condensing into the form of a man.

“I bring good news, my Prince.” said Cranston. “Not only have we the perfect motivator to get Allens to abandon Tidewater, but Solomon Wolfe has also decided to move on.”

“What do you mean by 'move on?'”

“Exactly that, mi'lord.” said Cranston. “When I heard news Wolfe had returned to Tidewater, I swore a curse, thinking we had run one of Max's warriors out of town only to replace it with another. But Solomon did not linger. He came, met briefly with Max and Michael, and then departed for points west.”

Guy smiled. “He goes ahead to Roanoke. Michael has already begun to plot his return to challenge The Djinn. Good. Now Tidewater will soon lie vulnerable.”

“Soon, but not quite yet. Michael continues to grieve the death of his lover and continues his efforts to rally others to his cause. He has not been very successful. He likely has Solomon, as you guessed, but word is that Damian Drake has abandoned him. However, I don't think any of this will thwart him from departing on his quest for vengeance.”

“How long must I wait to begin the next step in my plan?” growled Guy impatiently.

“Not long, I don't believe. Michael's childe was sent into torpor by her injuries. My suspicion is he awaits her awakening before making his next move. Such a young kindred is unlikely to sleep long, perhaps a couple more weeks at most.”

“I've waited this long.” said Guy, standing up. “Thomas Calderon wants this city for himself. Well, he can have it, once I have the throne of his sire. And I will have my own vengeance for what was taken from me.”

“Allens shares in the blame for Raoul's death.” reminded Cranston.

“I have not forgotten that.” Guy said sharply. “Cranston, we both know that Michael is unlikely to succeed in challenging The Djinn, but he has been underestimated before. When he departs, follow him. Go to Roanoke and ensure personally that he fails. No more games. This time, you shoot to kill.”

“You’d rather have me chasing Michael than helping you against Prince Maximilian? I am not normally one to question your orders, but…”

“My decision is final. Go to Roanoke. Make sure Allens fails.”

Cranston nodded and turned to leave.

---

Boar stepped out from the driveway to poolside into a scene out of the most debauched depiction of the Roman Empire Hollywood (or perhaps, more accurately, San Fernando) could imagine. His eyes first fell upon Rhea, floating on an inflatable in the middle of the pool, naked, flushed, and half-asleep from exhaustion. Then to Donna and Terra, lying in a similar state of undress on towels by the water, asleep and looking quite satisfied.

In the hot tub, he found Michael, plowing hard into Sammy while caressing Angelica next to him. Angelica, in turn, was groping Sammy, living out again her passionate memories of what the two of them had once shared.

Despite the signs of sexual ecstasy and satisfaction on the faces of his lovers, Michael's face was grim, even angry. He was not being gentle, but was intense and forceful in his lovemaking, as if desperate to lose himself entirely in his lusts and failing miserably at it. He focused in on Sammy, always his favorite of the harem and left Angelica alone. He never once looked up at Boar.

Angelica, now ignored, noticed Boar's arrival. She stepped out of the hot tub and walked over to him.

“He's in a mood.” said Boar flatly.

“He's like a machine tonight. I've never seen him try to do all of us at once.” she replied.

“Somehow, I don't think he's enjoying it as much as he should.”

“We're not her.” said Angelica insightfully.

“He called. Left a message. Said to meet him here tonight.”

“I don't doubt it.” said Angelica. She reached down and rubbed Boar across the crotch. “I'm feeling a little neglected. Care to help me with that while you wait?”

Boar smiled his affirmative.

---

Boar's observations were spot on. Michael finally brought himself to climax with Sammy, but only after driving his other harem girls to exhaustion in a frantic effort to drown himself in lust. He wanted to forget. It had not been successful. There was no pleasure in this, no joy, and no forgetfulness.

He tried with each to envision Sarah before him, imagining her still alive, still with him. He failed and, when he failed, he tried instead to enjoy each of his loves for who they were. He had chosen each of them to be his; each of them held something that he desired or found appealing. But none of it stirred his interest. Intensity did nothing to help. When his orgasm finally arrived, it erupted more out of surrender to the physical than anything else.

“I'm not going to be able to walk for a week.” Sammy playfully complained. “This one's worthy of a tale in the history books.” Michael may have gotten nothing out of the experience, but the women clearly did.

“At least one of us enjoyed it.” snarled Michael bitterly.

Saying that to anyone but a thrall-bound slave would have been genuinely hurtful, so much so that Sammy still frowned. “I'm sorry. We tried.”

Michael pulled on a robe. “I know.” he said softly, his anger and disappointment gone as quickly as they came. “It's not your fault.” He walked inside.

He found Boar and Angelica together. When he found them, they both hurried apart like a wayward husband caught with his mistress by the spurned wife. Michael didn't care. He didn't care on a good day, when things in his unlife were going well, and he certainly didn't care now.

“You could have finished.” he said flatly. He poured himself a Coke from the fridge.

“Well...” Boar began feebly.

“You know I share what is mine.” Michael continued.

“Yeah, well...” Boar restarted what he was going to say. “I didn't come here for that. I came because you said you needed my advice. It sounded like business, not pleasure.”

“Well, it is that.” Michael paused as Angelica walked past him. He gave her a caress to get her attention. “Go make sure I wasn't too rough on Sammy. After all, she did just get out of the hospital two days ago.” Angelica nodded and headed back outside.

“I can't tell sometimes what they are to you.” said Boar, looking out the window to the women at the pool. “Playthings or people?”

“Each of them is a wonderful person, strong, beautiful, and useful to me. They serve my little empire. They warm my bed from time to time. They are a distraction when I need one.”

“And what do they get out of it?”

“Pleasure, security, advancement.” answered Michael. “I didn't ask you here to give me advice on how to handle the harem.” Michael motioned for Boar to sit down.

“So what do you need me for?”

“Ami.” said Michael, taking a seat himself.

Boar darkened. “What does she have to do with anything?”

“Four years ago, when you were being welcomed into werewolf society, you chanced to fall in love with your mentor and teacher. You told me this once. You also told me it was forbidden for two werewolves to mate with one another, that it is one of their highest laws. You broke that law.”

“Yeah, and she died for it.” Boar grumbled.

“I'm not a werewolf, but I can tell you that it is unjust thing for someone to be killed for who they love. Mike,” Michael only used Boar's real first name when things got serious, “you are my friend, and I know that her dying, however much your people might think it justified, hurt you deeply. It was wrong what they did. It was evil and for four years, they have not answered for that.”

“So are you saying that we're going to back to avenge her too?”

“That is precisely what I am saying. But here's my plan. It'll get us both what we want most for those that we've lost. I'm going to start a war. I'm going to spill the blood of those who took from you what mattered most and I'm going to make sure they know that it was a vampire that did it.”

“The werewolves will attack the vampires.”

“Precisely. Let's see how strong The Djinn is when a whole horde of angry wolves comes howling down on him. We will bring his city to its knees and when both sides have expended all their strength on each other, we will move in and finish off the rest.”

“What about Deborah?”

“It's a gamble, I'll admit. Much the same sort of gamble The Djinn made when he sent Rebecca and Cranston to unleash the hunters on Tidewater. You see, that's where I got the idea, only instead of mortals, I'm using skinchangers. Once this is unleashed, the innocent could die. Maybe there's a way we can get her to safety before that happens.”

“You haven't...” A blood-curdling scream erupted, interrupting Boar's thought. Boar and Michael both bolted to their feet and went to the window. Below at the pool, the harem girls were all looking about; they too had heard it, but it had not come from them.

“Julia's awake.” concluded Michael. “And she's made her choice.” 

"Choice?"

Michael looked at Boar. “The same choice we're going to make: the one for vengeance. Go and tell Mitch. We leave for Roanoke in three days.”


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