Act Four Chapter Six - Flood

The lithe redhead squirmed weakly, her clothes disheveled. Michael came up from his feast, watching the wound on her neck close as he did so. He stood on his feet and pulled up his pants just as Julia stepped into his office.

“Any left for me?” she tossed him a wicked smile.

Michael returned the grin, pleased that his childe had taken so eagerly to her new life. “Just a little bite. She's weakened from my affections.”

“How poetic.” replied Julia, who came across the room swiftly to bite down on the delirious woman's neck. She drank only briefly, mindful of her sire's warning and her prey's vulnerable condition.

“You missed the appetizer.” teased Michael, zipping up his fly for effect.

“I could have you for the asking. As for her, I'll leave that to you.”

Further proof to Michael that what he witnessed in Rebecca back in the day was no anomaly of the blood, but a reflection of a true nature long hidden. “The curse of vampirism changes much, but not our sexual tastes apparently.” he observed in his mind.

“You seem disappointed.” commented Julia. “I'm sorry but...”

Michael sensed her thrall-bond kicking in. He interrupted her quickly. “No, there is nothing to apologize for. You do not need to go against that part of you to please me.”

“I'd do anything for you.” she emphasized.

“I know.” Michael paused to find a way to explain himself, but words failed him. At that very moment, the door to the roof ladder opened and Maximilian emerged. The Prince glared at Michael and Julia in turn.

“Remove the blood doll.” he demanded.

“Julia,” said Michael. “could you go fetch Virgil and tell him to call a cab for our lovely friend here?”

“As you wish.” She turned and departed.

“Such an obedient childe.” teased Max.

“What brings you to Nightstyles, my Prince?” asked Michael with false homage.

“An emergency meeting of the Primogen council.”

“I was not informed.”

“You were. Just now.” The hunchback shot Michael a sly grin. “I knew I'd find you here, so diligent you are in your duties to our Elysium.”

There was venom in the compliment, Michael could tell. While Michael expected a certain animosity from his one time ally, for the Prince to keep Michael out of the loop on this was a deliberate snub, one no doubt with malicious intent. Michael had the creeping feeling of being the worm at the end of a fishhook.

“The others will arrive around 3:00am.” continued Max. “Make ready for them.”

Well after last call, Michael observed. So much the better to have the leaders of the kindred present only with Michael's thrall employees to witness their presence. At that moment, Julia and Virgil returned to the room to carry out their latest victim. Michael motioned for Julia to stay.

“We will have guests after the last call. We need to set up the room here.” He instructed. The two of them set to work, all while Max sat down at the desk and watched. Michael ignored the Prince's sloth and was thankful Julia followed his lead. Max had been itching for a chance to remind the whole city that it was he who ruled and not Michael. Perhaps this meeting was for that very reason.

As the doors to the club were locked at 2:00am and the last partiers ushered out to the streets, the first of the primogen arrived. They mingled among themselves, conversing and politicking as was their want. Michael largely ignored them as he continued efforts to make the club ready for the council meeting.

Michael was surprised by one arrival: Kathryn Blake, a Gangrel from Norfolk and one of the remaining Disciples. She was not a primogen, but Max welcomed her openly before Michael could question her being there.

“Perhaps guests are to be present during our proceedings tonight.” Michael wondered in his mind. Normally, only Primogen and their childer would be allowed on site, unless special dispensation had been granted. As Master of Elysuym, it was his job to be that gatekeeper.

Before he could inquire further of the Prince, Damian entered. Michael looked at his closest and least trusted ally and motioned him to a quiet corner. “So what's the story here? If you knew this was coming, why didn't you say anything to me?”

“Whatever this is about, it is happening quickly and suddenly.” replied Damian, annoyed at Michael's implied accusation. “The only piece I knew before you was that the Prince had called this meeting and that he did so only last night. As for the rest, I'm as much in the dark as you.”

That the "smartest guy in the room" was in the dark gave Michael no comfort. He considered an apology to Damian over his tone, but reconsidered. Instead, he watched the gathering Primogen with interest. There were several other visitors besides Blake. Francois had just arrived, although that was not all that unusual (As sheriff, he was an informal exception to the rule.) Nikki also came through the door and was quickly embraced by her own primogen, Valentin.

“Nikki without Felicia. Blake here but not Mills.” said Damian, as if echoing aloud Michael's own thoughts. “I think we can guess what this is about.”

“The hunters have claimed some victims.” answered Michael. With a thought and the power of his blood, Michael summoned Julia. She emerged from the kitchen, where she had been helping the staff finish up their closing duties.

“Yes, Michael?” she asked.

“Your particular expertise may come in handy, if our guess is correct about this meeting.”

“So this is your new protege?” commented Damian.

“This is Julia Snow, a former vampire hunter and now my childe.” introduced Michael. “Julia, this is Lord Damian Drake, primogen of Williamsburg.”

“Charmed.” commented Damian, playing up his Southern bona-fides by highlighting his accent and taking her in hand.

“The council meeting begins in five minutes.” announced Francois loudly.

“Come with me.” said Michael to Julia. He quickly marched across the dance floor of the club to the far corner. Next to the control panel of the club's fire safety system, Michael pressed his hand to the wall. A hidden door to his right slid open.

“Our little secret...” Michael said as he went through the door and down the stairs behind it. Julia followed.

“What is this place?”

“An emergency haven.” explained Michael. Julia looked about and saw numerous coffins in neat rows up and down the chamber, each set upon a concrete pillar and kept a good two feet off the ground. Michael continued. “It's used by the leaders of the kindred, the primogen and the like, when they are kept here on-site by meetings like this one. It's also...” Michael moved to the far wall and opened up a cabinet he found there. “...has an armory.”

Michael grabbed an M-16 assault rifle and tossed it to Julia, along with a pack of magazines. “Regardless of what this meeting is about, having all the Primogen of the kindred community in one place is an invitation to disaster.”

“Most hunters would never attack a group of vampires in numbers like we saw upstairs. It would be suicide for them to try.”

“It doesn't mean there aren't a few suicidal ones out there who wouldn't try anyway.” retorted Michael. “I want you to call in Boar and Mitch. Take a gun to Virgil and lock this place down. Keep your eyes open for your former friends. I have to be in the meeting, so I'm counting on you to keep us safe.”

“I will do what I can.” said Julia nervously.

Michael leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I'm certain of it. Do as I ask. I have to go.”

----

“I do not call these emergency meetings lightly.” began Max, taking his seat at the head of the table. “But there is a threat to our community that can no longer be ignored. Mortal witch hunters are descending on our city in great numbers, seeking out kindred to destroy. Their predations have already cost us three of our number.”

The others took their places, the Primogen in their seats, the handful of visitors standing behind them. Francois stood by the door.

“Only three?” dismissed Austin Finch, primogen of Newport News and leader of the Anarch coterie. “Not exactly cause for alarm when your own coup three years ago left nearly a dozen of us as ash by the time it was over.”

“I'm sure most of us would not much care for the random deaths of lesser kindred,” interjected Kathryn Blake, “but I sit in the place of one of the Primogen who now lies fallen before this hunter threat.”

“The death of a Disciple, even a primogen, is no matter to me.” retorted Finch coldly.

“One of ours has fallen also.” said Valentin.

“And a Servant's death matters no more than a Disciple.” said Finch.

Max frowned. “The particulars of who has fallen and which coterie claimed their loyalty is irrelevant.” he barked. “They are not going to stop with the deaths of those you care little for, Finch. Are you so confident that they are not bearing down on your Anarchs as we speak? How many losses can you afford? I will admit my network is not what it once was, but your coterie hardly numbers more than three. These hunters could double their count tomorrow and wipe you out entirely.”

“You'd like that, wouldn't you?” said Finch. “For all we know, you've brought them here for that very purpose.”

“Hunters are a dangerously unpredictable tool.” said Damian. “If anything, our Prince has proven he can play the long game. That sort of risky play is not his style.”

“It is the style of one of our number however.” said Max. He glared at Michael. “One among us that aggression and violence are almost second nature. Never mind the folly of youth.”

“Is that an accusation?” said Michael, returning Max's glare.

“You've been aware of this threat for some time now. You even took one of them as your childe. Perhaps you feel your strength and the knowledge you've gained from this turn-coat is enough to immunize yourself from their predations, leaving the rest of us to deal with the fallout.”

“My childe is a former hunter, yes. I embraced her a few short days after enthralling her, which took place after she made an attempt on my life which obviously and gratefully failed. Level whatever accusations at me that you like, Max, but punishing and diminishing me will not remove the threat. I'm as much a target as the rest of you.”

“If not more so.” added Damian. Michael stuttered in protest, angry that Damian was clearly about to reveal too much about what Michael knew concerning these hunters. Damian ignored him and continued. “My network is not quite so compromised as my Lord Prince. I stand by what I said a minute ago. Hunters are unpredictable and there are none here who would try such a tactic. But there is a way to truly immunize yourself from their chaos: be somewhere else, which is precisely where we will find the one behind all this. Not here in Tidewater, but in Roanoke.”

Michael slunk down in his chair a bit, frustrated by his misread of Damian. “Damn,” he thought. “I never know what the fuck Damian is up to. Is he on my side or selling me out?”

“I'm not that unpredictable.” Michael heard in his own mind. “I'm in this for me. You can always count on that.” Michael glared at Damian, embarrassed he'd let his mental barriers down so far to allow the telepathic Venture into his mind.

“What are you talking about?” demanded Finch of Damian, ignorant of the mental conversation Damian was having with Michael.

“Have you not heard the rumors?” Damian's attention went to the Anarch primogen. “The great elder Mathias has been deposed, or so it seems. The Djinn now rules the hermitage of Roanoke and his ambitions extend beyond such a tiny city as that. He wants to rule here, but there are only a handful of kindred who could stand up to him if he made to take Max's throne. Two of them are in this room.”

Damian leaned back in his chair. “If my guess is correct, these hunters are his opening move. That they've missed their target is irrelevant to The Djinn. They'll get him sooner or later. Hell, maybe they'll nab the Prince in the process and make the whole thing all the easier.” A wicked smile crept across Damian's face, satisfied that he had proven his superiority once more.

“My Felicia is dead because these hunters were after you!” snarled Nikki at Michael, answering for everyone who Damian meant by “their target.”

“I gave you a few extra nights with her after that debacle with the cop.” retorted Michael. “Hell, if that's any indication of her behavior, then she's paid her price for her flagrant disregard for our laws.”

“What is this?” interjected Francois.

“Felicia killed a cop about three weeks ago.” said Michael. “A cop who had a partner who witnessed everything and who got away.”

“A breach of the Masquerade.” said Max. “She got what she deserved then.”

“That cop was looking for him.” Nikki stabbed a finger at Michael. “And if what Damian says is right, then they're all looking for him.”

“Then it's my problem to deal with.” retorted Michael.

“Not if these hunters keep killing the rest of us in a futile attempt to find you.” snapped Blake.

“So what are you going to do? Throw me at them like a virgin sacrifice given to appease the volcano? You're welcome to try.” Michael put as much menace in those last words as he could muster. Blake leaned back, obviously intimidated. Michael continued.“That's twice now members of this body have intimated that I be held to account for this state of affairs. I'm tired of the innuendo. If you're going to do something, do it. But we all know that won't stop them. They'll keep coming until either they've killed us all or we've killed all of them.”

“We know nothing about who they are or where they are. We cannot take the fight to them.” said Valentin.

“No, we can't. But there is another way.” said Michael. “We go to ground and wait this out. Trick them into thinking they've gotten all of us.”

“Hide? From mortals?” scoffed Blake.

“They've already killed three of us, including your boss.” replied Michael. “The worst thing we can do is underestimate them just because they are mortals. Damian has a virtual army of mortals at his command and that's why we all fear him. Why is this so different?”

“There's yet another option.” said Max. “One, I'd think, you'd approve, Michael.”

“And that is?”

“If The Djinn is behind this, then we take the fight to him. After all, wasn't it once your wish to return in force to Roanoke to remove Mathias and his pet assassin?”

“And how do you know I won't go up to him and offer him your head in exchange for the throne he'll vacate to claim yours?”

Damian snickered. “He's got you there, my Lord Prince.”

“You wouldn't dare.” snarled Max.

“Why not? My beef was with Mathias, who is either now dead or in the sleep of the ages. You'd like it if The Djinn and I destroyed each other, but why waste that energy? There's no vendetta between us. If Damian is right in that he's targeting me, it's because he recognizes I've become a threat, but it's not personal. There's no reason for it to be. Better then to negotiate a peaceful resolution, one that may hang you out to dry. I find it hard to believe that's a better option for you, my Prince.”

“It may not be personal for you. It may be for him. After all, if the rumors are to be believed, his apprentice is someone of great interest to you.”

“I've been very open these past few months that my goals in that regard have changed. Rebecca holds no interest to me any longer.”

“Irrelevant. What you truly want matters little. What The Djinn believes you want matters much.”

“So, let me get this straight. You'll gamble on the chance the two biggest threats to your rule are more interested in killing each other than they are in working out a deal that gives both of them what they want most.” Michael smiled. “Remind me to invite you to my next poker game, Max. I won't go broke anytime soon if that's your line of reasoning.”

A few laughs went up from around the room. Max glared at Michael. His anger was obvious. Michael pretended to dismiss Max's rage, putting on an air of indifference, but within he was quite pleased with himself. He'd genuinely outmaneuvered his former mentor. In fact, he'd outmaneuvered most everyone in the room. He'd learned the game well over the past few years.

“What then is to be done about this hunter threat?” said Max after a few quiet moments of seething rage. His tone was even, as if he still could barely contain his wrath.

“I say we kill Michael.” cried Nikki.

“You are not Primogen.” dismissed Damian. “You have no say here and your vendetta solves nothing!” He raised his voice in genuine annoyance, silencing the young Daeva. Michael smiled. What Damian had said in his mind earlier proved true again. He was nothing if not pragmatic.

Damian turned to Max. “I am with Michael on this. We go to ground. We wait out this storm. There is an added advantage to doing so. If The Djinn is lured into a false sense of security by the calm over our city, he may strike prematurely and find us stronger than he anticipated. I'd welcome the chance to see him face down both Francois and Michael at once for daring too much too soon.”

“That presumes Michael would stand with us.” interjected Francois accusingly.

“Oh, don't read more into my threats than what's there.” replied Michael. “If Max exiles me from my home here, as he just now suggested, I would have little reason not to betray him. But if my place in this community is preserved, I will fight for it alongside the lot of you. I'm very comfortable here. Why would I risk that when I don't have to?”

Francois seemed satisfied by this answer and nodded his acceptance.

“Very well.” said Max, drawing the attention of the room back to him. “That will be our course of action. Let the word go forth to all kindred. We keep a low profile. We do not mingle in numbers. We avoid public hunting. Every precaution must be taken to avoid contact with these hunters. They will soon tire of their futile search and withdraw.” He glanced at the clock. “Dawn comes soon. We must open the emergency haven.”

Michael stood up. “I will make ready. All kindred must make for their havens with great haste. If you cannot reach a haven in time, you may remain here under my protection.”

“How comforting.” snarled Fitch.

“I also will remain here.” interjected Francois. “Any hunters that strike at us when both Michael and I are present will soon regret their rashness.”

Michael left the office and headed to the dance floor. There he found Julia keeping watching with Virgil.

“I tried to reach Mitch and Boar, but was unable.” she said regretfully.

“Virgil, keep at it.” said Michael. “We are half an hour from dawn and many of the assembled Primogen will have to remain here today. Until dark, we will be vulnerable.”

“Usual protocol?” asked Virgil.

“Kind of. Guards in the building and on the roof. Fire safety systems on full. But I want my mage and werewolf here. That'll be a rude surprise for any hunters coming in here thinking they'll only find a bunch of sleeping vampires. Keep trying them, even after Julia and I take our rest.”

“Roger that.”

----

Michael and Julia selected a couple of coffins on the far side of the emergency haven. Francois and his new childe, Justine Norwood, did likewise. The other kindred who decided to remain were Fitch and his childe. Six kindred left vulnerable at a haven hidden below the one location the hunters all seemed to know was a central point for the vampire community.

There was little Michael or anyone could do about that now. They would have to hope their defenses were enough against whatever may come.

As dawn came, sleep overcame him. The hours passed with Michael in the bliss of oblivion.

But then, suddenly, something jolted him awake. A noise. A presence. A threat. Michael made to release the clasp on the hood of the coffin, feeling the daytime sluggishness in even the most simple of movements. He popped it open and sat up.

There were three of them; two men and a woman. The older man carried a fire axe, the woman a shotgun, and the third was pouring gasoline onto the floor of the haven.

Michael came to his feet and jumped down. That was when they noticed him.

“One's awake!” cried out the man with the gas can.

The eldest rushed Michael, holding his axe aloft for a vicious strike. Michael made to catch the weapon by its haft, but he was still slow, limited by the sun that sat invisible above the underground chamber. Michael remembered his earliest lessons as a vampire: kindred could function in daylight, but were greatly weakened.

Michael slipped to his left and the axe came down hard against the edge of the coffin. The mighty blow splintered the coffin. Michael then grabbed the man by his arms and began to wrestle with him for the axe.

In his weakened state, Michael knew he was at a disadvantage against the three of them. He had to awaken another. He yanked on the axe, pulling the man with him, until he had retreated next to the coffin that held Francois.

The man foolishly shoved Michael forward, trying to pin him in place against the coffin. But the coffins were unsecured on their pillars and that motion only served to knock it from its base. It tumbled to the floor.

The coffin fell open and Francois dazedly came to his feet. “Another! Reverend, look out!” cried the woman, raising her shotgun. Michael saw his chance.

With great effort, he willed all his strength into his arms and flung the older man around as the woman fired. The shotgun blast took him full in the back and he collapsed to the floor, dragging Michael down with him.

Francois came to himself in that moment, recognizing the danger through his own daytime haze. He reached down and yanked the fire axe free of the pile made up of Michael and his wounded foe. He flung the weapon at the woman as she pumped the shotgun for another shot. It struck home, splitting her head clean in two. The shotgun hit the floor and went off, its muzzle flash igniting the gasoline.

The room was immediately filled with flame. Michael felt the terror of the Beast within rise within him, but he knew his only chance was to keep his wits. Francois, on the other hand, lost himself to his terror. As the third hunter fled the room, Michael willed what little power of the blood he could and rushed towards the stairs.

It took every once of his will to keep control as he rushed to the safety of the upstairs. He made it to the top just as he heard a scream of agony. Francois? No, it wasn't his voice. It was Finch.

A fiery figure came tearing up the stairs towards him. It made it only halfway before collapsing and turning to ash. That would be Francois' fate and Julia's if Michael didn't do something and fast.

Michael turned his attention on the fire control system. The hunters had wisely sabotaged it before descending into the haven, but a rapid inspection revealed that they'd made an error. Instead of smashing the thing beyond repair, they had only ripped off the outer panel and torn out a few wires. Michael stripped the wires and reattached them, moving as quickly as his limited powers allowed. He pressed the override and head the beautiful flushing sound as the system dumped several hundred pounds of fire retardant foam into the room below.

The danger passed, Michael felt the heavy weight of the daysleep upon him again. As oblivion took him, he mustered a single thought, but he put all his will behind it. “Mitch, where are you? I need you.” And then darkness took him.

---

When Michael awoke, he found himself once more in the haven. Mitch, Boar, and Virgil were all there, keeping vigil.

“Easy.” said Mitch as Michael sat upright. “You're safe now.”

“What happened?”

“Whoever they were, they were good.” admitted Virgil. “They climbed the side of the building. Jumped the guards up top and knocked them out. Ambushed us and tied us up. Then they were all free to come down here and do their worst.”

“If I hadn't woken...” Michael's attention was drawn as a nearby coffin opened. Julia sat up from within it. Michael was immensely relieved to see her alive.

He saw Francois near Julia's coffin. He too was alive and now stirring awake.

“They got Finch. Did any others make it besides us three?” Michael asked.

Mitch shook his head. “The other coffins were burned out in the fire.”

“Justine?” asked Francois.

Michael looked at Virgil, who shook his head.

“I'm sorry, Francois.” said Michael. “She didn't make it.”

“Neither would any of us if you hadn't held your own against the Beast's terror. I owe you my life, Michael Allens.”

“Where were you last night?” Michael demanded of Mitch and Boar, anger rising in his voice.

“Dealing with these hunters.” answered Mitch firmly, refusing to take the bait of Michael's anger. “The vampires were not the only ones attacked yesterday. A group of them came after the local mage cabal. Boar and I fought them off and were tending to the wounded. I only came when I felt your presence in my mind. I knew then they'd hit you too.”

Michael slammed his fist against the floor in frustrated rage. “A coordinated attack.”

“Maybe, but unlikely.” said Julia. “It's probably just coincidence.”

“Either way, we've a mess to deal with.” said Michael, coming to his feet.

“You don't know the half of it.” said Virgil. “This place has been crawling with fire, police, and media since the attack. Sammy's fed them a good story and all the local fire inspectors are enthralled to kindred, so I hope we've covered all the tracks in keeping the Masquerade. Still, I think Nightstyles will need to be closed for a while.”

“I presume you took the liberty of not opening tonight.”

“Kinda hard to do when you've got cops and firefighters crawling all over the place. Most are gone now.”

A well-dressed figure came down the stairs to inspect the haven. Michael recognized Damian's clothing long before he saw his face.

“How pleasant it is to see you still alive, my friend.” he said to Michael. “What a mess we have here.” He rubbed his foot in the pile of dust on the stairs at his feet. “I take it that Mr. Finch will not be underestimating mortal hunters again.”

“Three dead. Finch, his childe, and Justine, Francois's childe.”

“My condolences.” said Damian with faux sympathy. “Let us hope that this bold stroke gives the hunters cause to believe they've beaten us.”

“They hit the mages yesterday too.”

“Two dead. Five wounded.” said Mitch with disgust.

“Two victories then. I'm sure we can persuade various public officials to decry this outbreak of deplorable violence.”

“You want to shine the media spotlight on this?”

“Why not? The more visibility we give this, the more likely they'll believe they've won.”

“Good point.”

Damian turned his attention to the dust pile again. “I'm sure Max will be so heartbroken to learn the Anarchs have been decimated by these proceedings.”

“He'll probably be more upset that I wasn't.” added Michael.

“After your show last night, I doubt Max will ever regret any misfortune that befalls you. You proved yourself quite a threat to his position.”

“I don't want his position.”

“I know that, but you may have little choice in the matter. It may come down to you or him and that moment is probably not long in coming.”

“Only if The Djinn doesn't kill one of us first. Or the hunters.”

“I'd be quite impressed if the hunters can find a Nosferatu in his warren. You, on the other hand, are far more public. I'd watch out.”

Damian headed back up the stairs. Michael turned to Mitch. “Does Sarah know what happened here?”

----

Michael pulled the Jaguar into the driveway and killed the engine. The house was dark, seemingly empty. Michael wasn't sure where he'd find Sarah if she wasn't here and he briefly considered summoning her to him through the blood. But that was such an unsubtle power and Michael disliked its use.

He'd left Julia at Nightstyles to help finish up the arrangements for the club to remain closed for a few weeks. Mitch or someone would bring her back to the cabin later. For now, Michael was alone.

He got out of the car and walked down to the dock. He stepped out over the water, finding the motion beneath his feet comforting. Now, in this moment, with the danger passed and all necessities of the Masquerade addressed, Michael was alone to his thoughts and feelings.

His hands began to shake, as if the fear of the fate he'd narrowly avoided was only now hitting him. Then he saw the faces of the “Reverend” and the woman as they died in front of him. Two more in his body count. It had been a while since the death of a mortal or two had bothered him this deeply.

Michael wished he had a drink or a cigarette. The habits of mortals in the midst of this sort of soul-searching seemed appropriate, even if neither nicotine nor alcohol would have any calming effect on his vampire physiology. Those vices were denied him. Others were not and Michael felt a stirring in his loins, a hunger to lose himself in carnal pleasures and forget all that had happened.

As if that desire had the same power as his summoning, the lights to the pool suddenly flashed on and Sarah emerged from the house. She'd been there after all, clearly doing something in the dark that hid her presence from Michael. She walked down towards the pool, dressed in a bikini.

Modesty was not usually a virtue for Sarah, so Michael wasn't quite sure why she'd swim this night in a suit when she rarely did so otherwise, especially when there was no one else at the house. She got about halfway down the stairs to the pool when she spotted him out on the dock.

Immediately, she dropped her towel and dashed down to him. She flung herself into his arms. Michael felt her skin against his hands. Feeling her against him had the calming effect he desired.

“When you didn't come back last night, I didn't wonder. It's not the first time. But when I awoke tonight to hear Nightstyles had been set on fire...I prayed. I hoped. And then I tried to distract myself with a swim, only to find my prayers answered. You are here. Thank the goddess.”

“It was as you feared.” explained Michael. “Hunters found the haven at Nightstyles. They killed three of us who remained there during the day. Three were spared. I was one of them.”

“Julia?”

“She lives. The Prince has decreed that we go to ground, lie low, for the time being. I've ordered the club closed for a few weeks. I don't want...my God, Sarah, I came so close.”

She took his head in her hands, reading the fear behind his eyes. “All the time I've known you, I've never seen you so frightened.”

“Fire. They set the whole room ablaze. I don't know how I kept control against the Beast, but if I hadn't they'd have killed us all. Instead, I killed them. I had to.”

“Of course, you did.”

“It's one thing for me to take the life of a mortal thrall to another vampire, one who serves a monster like us. But these...these weren't thralls. They weren't anyone's slave. They fought against us because we're monsters. They were the good guys in many ways. And I killed them.”

“I know. But don't worry about that now. I have you back safe.”

Michael took her hands from his head and kissed her fingers. “All I want right now is to lose myself in you. To forget all that's happened to me since I was last home.”

“That I can do.”

---

Michael lived his Requiem in a seemingly unending torrent of carnal pleasures. But there were moments in the midst of that flood where he would experience a moment of true intimacy, something sublime, something deep.

After expending himself physically with Sarah, Michael simply lay there in her arms and he had such a moment. He struggled to find words to describe his thoughts and feelings. “You know the worst thing about yesterday...” he began.

She nuzzled him affectionately, giving leave for him to continue. He did so after a short moment. “...it was thinking I might die apart from you. That I would go without saying good-bye. Without seeing you. Without holding you.”

“I'm here.” she said, running her hand through his hair. “I'm here now.”

“I thought I knew what love was. I didn't, but now I do. Sarah, I can't bear the thought of ever being parted from you. It seems so cliché, but it's true. I don't think I can live without you.”

“You won't have to.” she said comfortingly.

“It must be more than words.” Whispered Michael. Sarah wondered at what he meant when suddenly he bit down hard on her neck.

The pleasure of the Kiss rushed through her. “Michael,” she mustered out against the torrent, “what are you doing?”

He released her, blood dripping from his fangs. “Our marriage will be just words. Our assurances to one another are just words. It’s got to be more than that.” He licked the blood from his lips. “I will be your thrall and you will be mine. We will bind to one another through the power of the blood.”

“A mutual bond? Do you know what that means?”

“Yes. Will you feed three times from me and I from you? Our fates are intertwined. It’s what we want. It’s what we both want. It’s what we’ve both ALWAYS wanted.”

She ran her nails hard across the bare skin of his chest. Blood welled up from the wound and she licked it from his skin. “It is.” She admitted. “But let us have a sense of ceremony about this, if we are to take this step with one another. The third draught comes the night of our wedding and only then. Promise me that.”

“I will. I love you, Sarah.”

“And I you, Michael Allens.”