Act Four Chapter Twelve - Sacrifice

Boar savored the smell of several tacos and burritos from the bag next to him. He'd left Mitch behind at the hotel with the two young ladies before sunset. By now, he figured two things had happened. Mitch had fucked one or both of the girls and Michael and Julia had risen from the daysleep.

As he turned down a side street heading for the hotel, he noticed something strange. The various people who were walking around in the early evening hours suddenly took flight, running in a panic. That could only mean one thing: Lunacy.

A large furry form charged out from behind a nearby building and slammed hard into the side of the pick-up truck. It hit with enough force to send the vehicle off-course and Boar wrestled hard with the wheel to keep control. He slammed on the brakes, sending his and Mitch's dinner flying all over the cab.

Boar unfastened his seat belt and quickly reached behind the seat to grab his weapon, the silver klaive he’d taken off the corpse of the one hunter. He shifted into wolfman form, feeling his muscles stretch and toughen for the battle ahead.

He stepped out, weapon in hand, and surveyed his surroundings. There were six of them, all dire wolves. Most he did not recognize, but one he knew very well.

"Linda." he hissed the name of his old pack's shaman. The familiar wolf gave a brief bow to her head, as if a salute.

"You can't take all six of us, renegade." Linda growled in the First Tongue, the wolf language all werewolves knew by instinct.

"I won't have to." replied Boar and let loose with a deafening howl.

"Take him. He's summoned his allies." barked Linda.

The six dire wolves began to close, but did not do so with haste. Boar quickly realized two advantages. First, his truck gave him cover and large size of the dire wolves prevented too many of them from hitting at once. Second, they feared his silver blade.

A couple grew close enough to snap at him and he slashed at them in return. No blood was drawn, but Boar could tell his foes were steeling themselves, trying to find their courage. That was good; it bought him time.

A few more snapped and Boar riposted again. It would not be much longer. Boar locked eyes with Linda and smiled.

That was their cue. The pack charged in, and Boar charged in reply. He slammed hard into Linda, knocking her back and pulling himself clear of the rushing horde. But the bulk of the wolves were not confused for long. One turned and sank his fangs into Boar's foot. He shook off his attacker and held fast to Linda.

A blur and a rush of wind came next. Michael had arrived, moving like the comic book hero Flash by way of his vampire powers. Michael leaped atop the truck and drew his katana. Taking only the briefest of seconds to assess the situation, he struck, leaping down on the wolf that had bitten Boar's foot. The katana sank deep in the wolf's back, but the wolf twisted and knocked Michael clear, slamming him against the truck.

Linda tried to escape Boar's vice-like grip, shifting to wolfman form. Boar held tight as the two began to tumble about along the roadside. Two more joined the scuffle.

Michael came to his feet as two wolves came for him. One bit hard on his arm and tried to drag him down. The roar of a motorcycle filled the air: Solomon!

Mitch, who was on the back of the bike, jumped off and charged towards Michael. Once free of his passenger, Solomon revved his bike and headed straight for the melee, plowing through the bodies and scattering the wolves.

Mitch was wearing the wolverine claw weapon and he stabbed at the wolf on Michael's arm. The silver burned as it pierced the wolf's skin and the wolf immediately released Michael. His arm free, Michael slashed at another wolf. Everywhere was fur and blood.

Solomon skidded the bike onto its side and it dragged to a halt. The big Gangrel came to his feet and drew out his revolver, squeezing off a couple of shots. The silver rounds from the massive pistol tore through the flesh of one wolf, burning as they went with Luna's curse. The wolf staggered, stunned and badly wounded.

"How could you do this to us?" snarled Linda at Boar. "You have brought death down upon us."

"For what you did to her!" he replied, breaking the grapple and slashing with the klaive.

Solomon turned his gun on another. He fired again, emptying the six-shooter and taking down his target. He popped the chamber and pulled out a speed loader.

Michael and Mitch, meanwhile, had their hands full. The two wolves were more than a match for the two of them. Michael saw his katana go flying off after a hard blow. Wounded and drained of the unholy power of his vampire blood, Michael felt the Beast Within grow stronger. Frenzy would soon be upon him.

"You know our laws!" barked Linda.

"Fuck your laws!" Boar's eyes flashed as he lost control of his own Beast. "I LOVED HER!" His body rippled and morphed into the massive battle form known to the werewolves as Gauru. The klaive came up, driven by the force of Boar's rage, gutting the shaman from crotch to neck.

"Uh oh." said Mitch, seeing Boar tear the body of his foe to pieces. That rage would not subside easily and he knew Boar might not distinguish between friend and foe. He pulled out a pocket watch from his jacket and began an incantation.

His opponent took advantage and slashed hard. The wolf's claws tore across his chest, but somehow, Mitch held his concentration, accelerating time around him ten-fold.

Boar tossed Linda's mutilated carcass aside and charged towards Mitch and Michael. He bowled into their wolf opponents, biting, tearing, and scratching at them; the klaive now forgotten in his fury.

The first one that Solomon had shot came back to his feet and began to run. Two of the three remaining wolves turned their attention on the 9-foot tall monster that had once been Mike Boorman. The last kept at Michael.

"Hey you!" barked Mitch through gritted teeth. "Aren't I an easier target?" he taunted.

The wolf apparently agreed, turning away from the near torpid vampire to the wounded mage.

"I'm sorry. Can you see me..." Mitch joked. "...or am I right behind you?" Moving faster than even the werewolf could see, Mitch rushed around and drove the silver claw through the back of his foe's head. Mitch snatched up Michael's katana as the vampire dove in on the dying werewolf, desperate for blood of any kind.

"Let's finish this." he said to Solomon as Michael drank deep.

Solomon put away his gun and extended his claws. The two of them grabbed a werewolf and began to hack and stab him to death as Boar, still in his rage, tore the last one to pieces. The monster then tore down the street after the fleeing survivor.

"Done." said Mitch as Michael came back up, wounds healed. "Feeling better?" Mitch asked him.

"Much."

"I'm not." said the mage, pitching face-forward onto the pavement.

"Mitch!" Michael barked in fright.

"Grab him. Cops'll be here any minute, once the lunacy wears off." said Solomon. He began tossing the bodies of the werewolves into the back of the truck.

Michael carried Mitch into the cab. Boar ran out of steam a few hundred yards down the road, turning back when he realized he wasn't catching his prey. Solomon grabbed his bike and fled down the road. Michael followed in the truck, with Boar jumping on when it caught up to him.

---

"Be interesting to find out what gets published about this in the papers." Boar mused as they dumped the last of the dead werewolves in a ditch, deep in the woods outside town. "Lunacy should scramble the brains of any witnesses enough that none of them will give a very coherent story."

"But maybe not enough to prevent them from identifying any of us." said Solomon grimly.

"I hope Mitch is alright." Boar had worries of his own.

"Humans are fragile." said the Gangrel. "Hard to say. Still, one of Michael’s harem slaves is a nurse. She’ll take good care of him."

"What the hell was he thinking?" growled Boar.

"You know the answer to that."

Boar nodded in understanding. "There can't be many left now. The chief, the shaman both dead, plus seven others. The pack was not that big back in the day." He paused. "My revenge is complete. Now I owe Michael his."

"And I have a message to deliver."

—

“So, the lupines bring war to us and it just so happens that two Kindred of Tidewater appear at just the right time to request permission to enter the city, one of them a former primogen.” said The Djinn.

Solomon stood by quietly, his message delivered as the Prince mused over what he had told him.

“Michael is taking you for a fool.” said Rebecca. “This is all his doing, I know it.”

“He is your sire. What do you say?”

“He is a schemer of the highest order.” Said Rebecca. “Michael says one thing, thinks something else, and then does yet a third thing. It was such a game that he used to make me Kindred, so I doubt he’s changed any. He cannot be trusted.”

“He departed this city with a pledge to return and avenge himself.” added Cranston. “That is common knowledge among the Kindred of Tidewater. This werewolf attack has given him his opening.”

“He grasps beyond his reach.” concluded The Djinn. “He may think us vulnerable, but Roanoke has its own secret strengths. Solomon, you pledged to defend this city. I will hold you to that if Michael Allens’ ambitions outstrip his wisdom. Cranston, you have also shed blood in recent skirmishes. We will need you as well.”

“My services don’t come cheap.” said Cranson.

“I’m sure your true employer has already well compensated you for your time here.” growled The Djinn. Solomon’s face flashed a sign of momentary bewilderment, but he suppressed it as The Djinn turned to face him. “I will meet with Allens.”

“Mi’lord, I protest.” said Rebecca.

“I will not be intimidated by a mere whelp, no matter how good his fortunes in Tidewater were. I have walked this Earth for nearly 800 years. I have nothing to fear from anyone whose lifespan measures barely more than a hundredth that.” The Prince turned back to Solomon. “I will meet with him. Tell him we will meet tomorrow on the triangle of grass beside the I-81/I-581 interchange. Such a public venue, in easy view of the passing mortal motorists, will reveal his true colors. Now go.”

---

“This is a trap.” Snarled Rebecca to Deborah. “Michael’s planned all of this, I’m certain of it.”

“Of course, he has.” Said Deborah. “Solomon’s told me as much.”

“What side are you on?” demanded Rebecca.

“My own.” Replied Deborah. “These conspirators are offering me what I’ve wanted for decades now: This city as my own.”

“Maybe I should clarify my question. Does claiming that prize require a certain sacrifice?”

“No,” said Deborah emphatically. “Or at least not the one you’re thinking. I’m not giving you up to them. I don’t care if you did have a hand in what Michael accuses you of. I won’t let him have you.” Deborah paused. “But for that to be, there is a different sacrifice required.”

Rebecca felt her heart sink and her ambivalence about Michael rushed to the forefront again. It was one thing for her to imagine battling him or even destroying him. But doing it for real? Killing someone she’d known nearly her whole life, one of the few remnants of her life as a mortal? Someone she’d once loved, who had gifted her with all the wonders of unlife as a vampire? Rebecca shook her head.

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

“If he finds you, he will try to kill you. I doubt you’ll be able to talk him out of that path. I’ve seen how he responds to you, thinks of you. There’ll be no abating this hatred now that it’s been sparked. It’s probably down to him or you.”

That cast Rebecca’s mind back to her mortal days and some of her fears of Michael then. She nodded. Deborah was probably right.

“You should understand that better than anyone.” Said Deborah after a short pause.

“He loved me once.” Rebecca confessed.

“Did he?” questioned Deborah. “Or was it something else? You will never be free of him as long as he lives.”

“And if he is stronger than me, as many have said?”

“Here’s the thing. You must be prepared to strike at the right moment. Michael will fight The Djinn. That’s a given now. One of them will succeed and the other will die. Just make sure you’re in position to kill the survivor and all that we desire will be ours.”

---

Michael pulled the Ford Falcon to a stop along the shoulder of the Interstate. He glanced briefly at the nearby woods, knowing Solomon, Julia, and Boar were hidden away within.

"I remember you as taller." yelled Michael confidently as the Djinn emerged from his own vehicle a few dozen yards further down. The highway traffic was brisk and noisy, making it hard for them to hear one another.

"Your successes in Tidewater have only fueled your arrogance." retorted The Djinn.

"You need my help to deal with your werewolf problem."

"You caused my werewolf problem." accused The Djinn. "You toy with those savages like you toy with everyone. But you are not quite so clever as you think you are."

"No, I suppose copying your strategy was a little unoriginal. You sending all those hunters down on us and all."

"I know nothing of any hunters."

"Oh, come down, Djinn, we were being so candid and honest. Why lie now?" said Michael. "Or maybe it really wasn't by your orders. Just hers. Maybe she plays the game better than both of us."

"Your sire or your childe?"

"Childe. Turn her over to me and this ends."

"You would dare threaten her."

"Sentimentality? From you? That's hard to believe."

"Enough of this. You escaped this city's justice once. You will not escape it again." Three thralls stepped out of the car and came up behind the Djinn. They drew machetes.

"Really? I rose to Primogen of Hampton and you send mortals after me?"

"You're a whelp. Barely one step beyond a mere human." The Djinn turned to his guards. "Kill him."

Michael stood still as the three advanced. As they drew into melee range, he drew his katana and cut down all three in a flurry of strikes so fast even The Djinn could barely follow.

"Solomon trained you well." said The Djinn smugly. Michael realized it had been a test.

"Solomon. Francois. Others. You also might recognize the blade." He held the sword of Hiroshi Takagi aloft. "Its previous owner did not part with it willingly."

"No, I would imagine he didn't." And The Djinn charged, his scimitar in hand.

The two traded blows for several seconds. "You want her? You'll have to go through me." taunted The Djinn. He broke away from Michael and then leaped onto the back of a passing tractor-trailer.

Caught off guard, Michael willed the blood into speed. He leaped onto a passing car and then onto the back of the same trailer. The driver of the car, shocked by seeing a man jump onto his car, spun out of control and triggered a pile-up.

In the midst of the commotion, Boar and the others rushed out of the woods, running as fast as they could to catch up. Solomon took the lead, but was body-checked off his feet by something emerging from out of the darkness.

Rebecca spun about with a bit of flourish, her scimitar in one hand and a wooden practice sword in the other. The practice sword, normally blunted, had been whittled down to a sharpened point, a perfect stake for a vampire’s heart.

“Let’s leave the two of them some privacy.” She taunted at her foes.

“We meet at last,” said Julia. “Sister.” She drew out her stake-thrower and fired it at Rebecca.

Rebecca dodged the shot and lunged forward. She thrust the practice sword and it struck home on the blonde Daeva. Julia staggered back as her limbs stiffened around the wooden stake. Rebecca moved in to finish her off when a giant wolf tackled her and took her off her feet.

Rebecca brought both feet up and kicked Boar off her. She then came back to her feet and faced off against Solomon and Boar together.

“All I have to do is keep you here.” She said threateningly.

---

Michael  twirled his sword. “Interesting venue for your final battle.”

"Cocky fool." snarled The Djinn. He cut his finger on his own blade and snapped a tendril of blood like a whip at Michael. Michael remembered seeing that power once before at his trial. The tendril wrapped around the katana and snared Michael's arms.

"Duck!" teased The Djinn, as Michael realized the truck was racing towards the Wood Haven Road bridge. Michael twisted his sword to cut the tendril loose and then dropped backwards onto his back. The bridge passed overhead, mere inches from his nose.

Michael was unfortunately too close to the rear of the trailer, so that when fell back his torso now dangled over the edge. As the truck traveled down the highway, the minute shifts of the vehicle forced Michael to put all his focus into hanging on, even if only for a moment. Sensing an advantage, The Djinn came back to his feet and charged. Michael barely rolled to the side before the scimitar struck sheet metal, sparking with the force of impact.

Michael came back to his feet as the Djinn spun about. The Nosferatu snarled and focused and Michael could feel the oppressive weight of something on his mind and soul. A vampiric power, but not one he was familiar with.

"Look at the pathetic nerd." said a voice in his head, one that sounded like both Gideon, his childhood nemesis, and Todd, the bully from high school. Laughter accompanied it.

"I never loved you." That was Sarah's voice.

"Worthless failure." His father.

“You betrayed me.” Rebecca.

“You failed me.” Deborah.

Michael shook his head, trying to clear the nightmarish hallucinations from his mind. They proved just enough of a distraction. The Djinn charged. Michael brought his blade up to parry and only barely blocked the vicious strike. It hit with such force that Michael lost his footing. He fell.

And the pavement at 50mph came up fast. He slammed hard into the asphalt, feeling the crunch of every bone. He rolled for 50 or 60 yards before coming to a halt, his body broken and ravaged. Immediately, his vampire blood began its work restoring his shattered flesh.

But to heal wounds of that magnitude would take every bit of mystical power Michael's blood had left in him. Michael felt the Beast start clawing its way up through his soul, panicked and starved of precious blood. Michael forced his human mind to hold fast and came to his feet.

The Djinn jumped down off the truck some eighth of a mile further down the road, landing on the highway with a much more controlled roll. Michael staggered over to where his katana had fallen; it was testimony to its quality that the blade had not shattered when it hit the pavement.

Michael mustered the will to trigger a summoning, one of the powers of his vampiric presence, to his allies, to Solomon and Boar. He now knew The Djinn was far too strong to face alone. He needed help.

But would help arrive in time? The Djinn walked steadily towards Michael, blade in hand. Then with a bit of flourish with his sword, the Nosferatu vanished from sight.

Knowing the Djinn could now strike him unseen was all Michael's Beast needed to wrest control. Michael faded as the frenzy took over.

---

Rebecca slashed hard at Solomon, but the big Gangrel dodged aside. For his size, Solomon was frighteningly agile. She readied for his counter-attack, but it did not come. Instead, Solomon paused, as if he’d seen or heard something unexpected.

“Michael’s in trouble!” he declared. “We’ve no more time for this.” He moved to Julia’s side and began yanking free the stake in her chest.

“Fine. Time to pull out the big guns.” Boar roared and his flesh rippled and stretched as he shifted into his massive battle form.

Deciding discretion was now the better part of valor, Rebecca stepped back and vanished from sight.

---

When he came back to himself, Michael found himself in an industrial park. He didn't know how far he'd run or for how long. He was covered in blood not his own. Michael looked about and saw the mauled body of what he presumed was the night watchman for the park, his throat torn out to feed Michael's desperate need for sustenance.

His hunger abated for the moment, Michael knew the danger had not passed. Of his foe, there was no sign. Michael knew The Djinn would not let him run away, not when it was obvious to both of them that Michael was beaten. He would hunt him down to finish the job.

Michael picked up his katana from beside the dead man. By some twist of fate, his frenzied self had only dropped it after pouncing on the poor fellow. Michael doubted he would get far before his enemy found him. Better to stand his ground and hope that help was not far behind.

But where?

Michael scanned about for something, anything, that might buy him some time. He walked towards one of the buildings. As he got closer, a light above him flickered on, startling the frightened vampire.

"Motion sensor." Michael mused. And then the idea came.

Michael turned around, his back to the building, and held perfectly still. He closed his eyes and waited. After a few seconds, the light above went back off. And still, he waited.

Michael knew the vampiric power of stealth worked by fooling the minds of observers. Ernie had told him that ages ago when they were prepping him to take on Mathias. He waited.

The light flashed back on. His eyes popped open and with vampire celerity, Michael dropped down and slashed hard. He felt the katana meet resistance and then slice on through. The Djinn suddenly appeared and slammed against the pavement, his right leg severed below the knee.

Michael shot back upright and parried The Djinn's clumsy riposte. With a twist of his blade, Michael got under his foe's defenses and severed his right arm below the elbow.

The Djinn rolled, grasping for his severed hand in hopes of reattaching it, but Michael grabbed him by the collar and flung him several yards down the pavement.

"Holy fuck" said Michael astonished to himself. "I just beat him."

The Djinn tried to pull himself upright on his one good leg. "No smart ass comment to make?" he snarled at Michael.

"No," said Michael calmly. "Not this time." Michael walked over and grabbed The Djinn by the throat. "Where is she? Tell me and I might let you crawl away from this."

"You'll get nothing from me."

Remembering what had happened when he fed from the Mad Bishop, Michael bared his fangs. "If you won't tell me, then I'll just take it from you."

"You wouldn't...Our laws..."

"As a friend of mine recently said, fuck the laws." Michael bit down. The powerful elder blood was intoxicating, a rush like no other. But Michael wanted more so he drank deeper, deeper to the elusive nectar of The Djinn's very soul. And there, he found far more than he bargained for as The Djinn's dying memories flooded into his mind. His Beast roared in pain. His mind screamed, and the world faded to black.

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