Act Three Chapter Fourteen - If I Ever Lose My Faith In You

Michael took his time after he departed Nightstyles. He wandered over to another beachfront club and found himself a willing mark. After following the drunken tourist back to her apartment, he didn't bother with further seduction. He merely came at her from behind, sank in his fangs, and drank his fill. He left her unconcious on her hotel room floor. He briefly considered ransacking the place to make it look a robbery, but he decided against it.

He returned to the Fox Club around 2:00 am. Outside of the TFV guards outside, the place was empty. No Boar, no Mitch. Only Sarah remained.

Michael stopped short when she emerged. Everything about her it seemed was different. She had dyed her hair a dark violet-red and changed up the style. Gone was the long black dress she always seemed to wear. Instead, she wore a black t-shirt that seemed two sizes too small. The tight shirt hid little of the assets she seemed so often eager to keep secret. The shirt came up short around her waist, giving a hint of skin and teasing observers with flashes of her navel. Below that was a pair of dark green shorts that barely descended past her groin. It was a variation on the hunting outfit Michael had seen her wear before, but even more provocative.

Recognizing those similarities, Michael simply said "Hunting?"

"I went shopping." she answered. "No, this is for you."

"Trying to make me forget?" Michael said coldly. In truth though, it had, if only for a moment.

"Or remember." added Sarah. "I spend so much time hiding this that I wonder if even you don't forget the real me."

Michael stepped closer to her, within arms reach, but he did not reach out to her. Sarah reached up and caressed her hand across his cheek. He could see the fear in her eyes.

"All the danger we're in and this is what you fear the most." said Michael sarcastically.

"Then tell me why I'm such a fool. Tell me my fears are baseless. Tell me I haven't lost you to the pain you're feeling inside." she replied forcefully. "Tell me you can still love me in spite of your own fear that this will happen again and again."

"You once warned me about the dangers of falling in love with a vampire. You misspoke. You should've said it was dangerous to fall in love AS a vampire."

"Of course it is." she said scoldingly. "It's always dangerous to fall in love, no matter what you are. Vampire, werewolf, human, doesn't matter. What happened to Leigh wasn't the first time your heart was broken. And it won't be the last. You know that as well as anyone."

"If this pain is all I can expect, why bother?" As she shook her head "no," he continued. "You can't promise me you won't die or you won't leave me somehow one day. You can't."

"No, I can't." she said, her voice desperate. She grabbed him by the sides of his head and forced him to look her in the eye. "But that's not what matters. You can throw yourself heedless of the danger against all sorts of foes. Against Hiroshi and the Prince-Bishop and all that and fear of what might happen never stops you then. Why now? Why in this realm are you so paralyzed? What matters is this moment! I don't know what will happen next. I don't. Maybe the Bishop will kill you tomorrow. Maybe he'll kill me. Maybe someday years and decades from now we'll wander apart and never see each other again. I don't know. All I know is that I love you right now, Michael Allens, and that my heart is breaking for you because I know how much you are hurting. Don't...don't make this worse by walking away from those who need you most."

She was on the verge of tears and Michael's bitter resistance melted at the sight of it. He scooped her up in his arms and held her tight. As she returned the embrace, the anger he'd been using to bottle up his grief also melted away and his own tears began anew.

"What matters is the now." she repeated. "And right now, I am here for you."

---

They moved from the front porch of the Fox Club to one of the private rooms. It was, in many ways, a repeat of the first time they'd made love to one another. Sarah taking the lead, showering Michael with tender affection.

After a couple hours, Sarah rolled off of him and curled up next to him on the mattress. He put his arm around her and pulled her close, triggering a smile across her lips. "If only this could be the whole of our nights together..." she mused.

"Unfortunately, it can't be." replied Michael softly and sadly.

"No, it can't." said Ernie, appearing in a puff of smoke from the doorway. Michael and Sarah sat up in surprise.

"How long were you standing there?" demanded Michael.

Ernie gave a shit-eating grin as his only reply. He looked Michael up and down hungrily and then turned his eyes on Sarah. Both felt frighteningly naked and vulnerable before the elder's predatory stare.

"I'd almost forgotten what a vision of youthful loveliness you are, dear Sarah." said Ernie. "I see why he likes you."

Sarah tried to cover herself; Ernie's glaring eyes made her increasingly uncomfortable. Michael then drew his attention by asking "Why are you here, Ernie?"

"To help you, of course. The time I warned you about just days ago has come and much swifter than you anticipated."

"I have plenty of help already."

"Ah, but not as much as you think. Perhaps you are wondering why the part of Maximilian, primogen of Williamsburg, is played tonight by Ernie Malkov. After all, isn't he the one that sneaks in unannounced to bring you dire warnings of what is about to befall you, boasting all the while of how well informed he is."

"Your point being?"

"You'd think as the childe of Mathias he'd guard his thoughts better, but I suppose he's been too long away from his master. Max has turned on you. He fears you, Michael. Fears what you've become and his French poodle Guy does as well."

"So I should trust you instead."

"However nefarious you believe my plans for you to be, you can certainly trust in one thing. I mean you absolutely no harm."

Michael conceded to himself Ernie had a point there. "It's not me I'm most worried about."

"If I wanted that lovely thing on your arm dead, I'd have long since found opprotunity. She is right about one thing. You need each other right now. Besides, what's a king without his loyal consort?"

Michael shot Ernie a confused look. After all, Michael had long believed this whole scheme was an elaborate seduction on Ernie's part, trying to win Ernie into Michael's heart or bed or both.

Ernie picked up on it. "My own wants and desires will simply have to wait." he admitted. "I shall despair. There is no creature loves me; And if I die, no soul will pity me: Nay, wherefore should they, since that I myself find in myself no pity to myself?"

"Another quote from the Bard." Michael observed.

"My lot in life." admitted Ernie. "Come. Get dressed. This place is too obvious a hiding spot. I have a better one."

---

Ernie led them to his own car, well hidden along the side of the road about 200 years from the entrance to the Fox Club. Michael had completely missed it in the dark, nor had the soldiers obviously seen or heard it approach. As Ernie got in, Michael walked over, full of questions.

"I'm not leaving my truck. I'll follow."

"Very well."

"What about..."

"I have told Damian my intentions. He will see that his soldiers are given new orders. Boar and Mitch will likewise be told you are moving, although not to where. Do not worry about such things."

"Alright, we'll follow." Michael walked back to his truck. He and Sarah got in. They followed Ernie's car through the streets of Hampton, onto the Interstate, across the bridge, and into Virginia Beach. Ernie pulled into an underground garage beneath the main public library in Virginia Beach.

He guided Michael's truck in next to his car. "There is room enough." he said. "It's not much of a garage, used mostly for loading and unloading books from the donation sites and occasionally for employee parking. None will question the presence of our vehicles."

"Thralls?"

"Of course. As Solomon hosted you at his own haven in Yorktown, so now I host you in one of mine. Come." He took them inside the basement of the library.

"And where will you be staying?" Michael asked as they wove amidst the stacks.

"Elsewhere. After all, it is obvious you two need your privacy."

"It would have been nice of you to be so generous before you watched us tonight." interjected Sarah.

"Oh, even we ancient ones sometimes pine for the soft affectionate touch of another. Forgive an old kindred his distant memories."

"Explains much about Mathias." mused Michael.

"Doesn't it now?" replied Ernie. He stopped before a large iron door. "The rare book room. Kept under precise enviromental conditions to preserve the ancient tomes within. Few ever venture down here and it makes it a perfect spot for one such as ourselves to find their respite."

Ernie pulled open the door to allow them inside. "I will take my leave of you. Sunlight cannot reach you here and none know of this place but me. Not even Max. That will no doubt infuriate him, but he'll get over it."

"Alright, Ernie." said Michael. "I don't often say this, but thank you."

"I will call upon your gratitude one day, Michael. Do not fear." said Ernie with a sly smile. "Oh, and while you're here, might I recommend you read up a bit on your classic literature. You never know what you might learn in these pages."

---

When he awoke the next night, Michael decided to take Ernie's advice.

"What is that?" asked Sarah, as Michael brought in a heavy tome from elsewhere in the library.

"Volume III of the Unabridged William Shakespeare." he answered.

"And what do you expect to find in there?"

"Ernie's been teasing me for months about the identity of Lazarus' killer and he does it by quoting Shakespeare."

"We have a crazy Malkovian, a fellow childe of Ernie, who goes by that very name because he believes he is the famous playwright."

"Yes, and I think he's invovled. But Ernie's hints tell that there's more to it than that. I want to find out what." He began to skim the pages.

"It'll take you forever to read all that."

"Perhaps, but we're not doing anything else right now."

"We could." said Sarah teasingly.

"There'll be time enough for that tonight. Have no fear." said Michael with a smile. "Most of the quotes Ernie's been giving me are from a single play: Richard III."

"That would seem fitting. I remember it from my own high school days. King usurps the throne by killing all the rightful heirs."

"Ernie once told me to beware Richard. Probably is, I don't know who he meant. Obviously a metaphor for someone in the city, but who?"

"Michael, look at the stage directions for the play." said Sarah, as if she'd just figured something out. "Start at the very beginning."

"Where is Richard first introduced? Not until..." Michael flipped pages. "No, wait, he's first referred to by another name in the script. Duke of Gloucester. Very first lines of the play are his."

"Read." said Sarah.

...But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,

Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;

I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

To strut before a wanton ambling nymph;

I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time

Into this breathing world, scarce half made up,

And that so lamely and unfashionable

That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;

Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

Have no delight to pass away the time,

Unless to spy my shadow in the sun

And descant on mine own deformity...

"Richard is deformed." Michael observed. "Ugly..."

"A hunchback." Sarah finished. "That's how he's always depicted."

"Maximilian is a hunchback. A deformed Nosferatu. It was right in front of us the whole time." said Michael, chiding himself for his blindness. "It was so obvious. Max killed Lazarus."

"Or more like it was done on his orders. Perhaps by Shakespeare."

"Maybe. If he shares his sire's power of stealth, he could've gotten up on that gantry above the Prince without anyone noticing. But we know Max has that power as well and he can shapeshift into a bat to fly."

"It seems unlikely that Max would have gotten his own hands dirty."

"What do you remember from that night, Sarah? You were there. I was up with the Prince, being castigated for my own exile from Roanoke."

"I remember. I had a hard time taking my eyes off of you." She smiled sheepishly. "Wait, Shakespeare was near me. I remember. All the primogen were up near the front, not far from where I was standing. Except for..."

"Max?" asked Michael expectantly.

"No, Michelle. Michelle was missing."

"I remember her being there that night. She introduced herself to me."

"No surprises there. You were a new potential conquest."

"She was in a bit of a rush, I remember. Perhaps that's why she was in a hurry."

"Well, if she did the actual deed, then she's beyond justice now. I find it hard to believe Max would work with her."

"Why not? He's admitted as much that we works with everyone. His information brokerage is totally mercenary. Servant, Disciple, Anarch, he brokers favors from them all for what he knows. It's how he believes he'll take the throne in the end. If they all owe him something, he'll cash in those favors to get what he wants most."

"Michael, do you realize what Ernie has given us here?"

"Ernie wants me on that throne."

"Yes, and who stands in the way of that now? The Bishop is nothing. Without Hiroshi to defend him, he is vulnerable and he knows it. Max is the only one left with the leverage to assume the throne once the Bishop is gone. That is besides you." Sarah sat back. "My God, you really could do it. Ernie's engineered this perfectly. All your rivals, all the others with the influence to take the throne are gone, except Max."

"And now, I have the means to rid us of him."

"Yeah, you do. Tell what you know to Francois and Max is dead."

"What should I do?"

"We could have everything, Michael. The best hunting grounds. Wealth, power, and each other most of all."

"And have every kindred in the city out for our blood."

"Why would that frighten you? You'd have Solomon and Francois loyal to you. Boar and Mitch to boot. Probably Damian too. Ernie behind the throne; scary as that thought is it still works in your favor. Who would challenge you? Darrel? Shakes? They're followers, not leaders. They have little more ambition than I do. Lazarus saw to that when he made them primogen. No one else in the city is even remotely a threat. Thomas is gone. Michelle dead. Guy'll go back to Richmond when Max is gone."

"You think I should do it."

"I can't deny that there isn't a lot of appeal to being the 'consort' of the Prince, as Ernie put it last night. And neither can you."

"All I have to do is give up what I came here for. Abandon Deborah and Rebecca to their fates."

"Yeah, you would have to do that too." admitted Sarah.

"Devil's choice. That's probably part of Ernie's plan too." said Michael. "All these will I give you if you but bow down and worship me. Some things come with a high price."

"And some of those things may be worth it."

---

The following night, the Disciples coterie met at Seaside Church to discuss their options. All came together: The Prince-Bishop, Ernie, Darrel Mills, Shakespeare, and all the subordinate vampires and many thralls as well. The Bishop returned the old table to the upstairs office, removing the church decorations he had most recently moved in there, and restoring (at least temporarily) the old boardroom where the primogen had met during the reign of Lazarus.

The room was crowded, filled as it was with ten kindred and another dozen thralls. Ernie lounged near the back wall while the rest of the coterie took seats around the table.

"Michael is one of the strongest vampires in the city, if not the strongest. None of us can match him in physical combat, perhaps not even Ernie." admitted Darrel.

"Francois could match him."

"And Francois stands against us as well." said another Disciple. "Thanks to Hiroshi's arrogance."

"Probably the same arrogance that got him killed." added yet another.

"Guy is a warrior, I believe."

"A member of the Old Guard, one loyal to Maximilian, is your solution?"

"Max stands to lose as much as we do if Michael moves to take the throne." added Darrel.

"Bet this isn't what Max had in mind when he fought so hard to protect him earlier." laughed Ernie, amused at himself.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it, Lord Ernie?" said the Bishop, speaking for the first time.

"You know me well, my childe."

"So we're to be cannon fodder for your mad schemes." said Darrel angrily.

"Or Michael and his allies are." replied Ernie. "Depends on what you do here tonight. Neither side has won this contest yet."

The Bishop stood up. "Then I'm left with little choice." He walked from his seat towards Ernie, but his attention was drawn to a thrall near the door. "Baldwin, send word throughout the flock. Francois is to be delivered to me."

"As you wish, your grace." The thrall Baldwin turned and departed out the door.

"And what will that accomplish?" Ernie asked, genuine curiosity on his voice. The Bishop was now right next to him.

"If I am to win this contest, I must have the power to overcome Michael in combat. And power is what I will have." With lightning speed born of his unholy nature, the Bishop produced a wooden stake and plunged it hard into Ernie's chest.

The rest of the gathered kindred looked in shock as Ernie stiffened and fell over onto the floor. The Bishop turned slowly back towards the table. He looked over at another thrall and gave a curt nod.

The thrall drew a shotgun from behind his back, one modified as a stake-thrower. He fired it into Shakespeare. Then the room erupted in chaos.

The remaining thralls drew out similar weapons. The kindred rose from their seats; although of greater might than the humans, they were caught unawares. More stakes were fired and several others went down.

Darrel Mills was not one of them. He grabbed the thrall nearest him and wrestled the weapon from him. He turned it on the thrall, firing the stake into him. It proved unsurprisingly to not be so non-lethal an attack as it was against a vampire. He looked behind to get a gauge on the situation.

The Bishop had moved to Shakespeare and had bitten down on his neck, draining his blood. Darrel realized in horror what the Bishop was doing, what he intended to do to all of them. Diablerie was their word for it, a vampire drinking another vampire to death. They could absorb the power and knowledge of those they killed in that way. It was a terrible crime, viscious beyond measure and made any vampire who did even more monstrous. The inner Beast grew stronger with each such muder, but Bishop clearly didn't care about any of that. He would have the power to stop Michael and if it took the deaths of every kindred in that room he would have it.

Francois would be next. That was why the Bishop had ordered his capture. Ernie too, no doubt. What would the power of a great elder do for the Bishop's cause?

The Bishop finished and Shakes turned to ash in his arms. He looked at Darrel with feral eyes, almost wolf-like. That was the final straw. Darrel fled out the boardroom door. He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. And he did not stop running until the nightmare he'd just witnessed was far behind him.

---

Michael was looking for Francois. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say to the Templar when he found him. Wasn't sure if he was going to admit the whole thing to him, or only part. Perhaps only enough to win his support against the Prince-Bishop. Michael did not think that would take much, given the rumors of their mutual animosity.

Michael hoped to find Francois hunting in his old haunts in Williamsburg. He was a mite surprised to learn from Sarah that Francois used the tourist areas of Max's city as his hunting ground. That in many ways worked to Michael's advantage. Williamsburg was not that big and Michael hoped he could find a large dark-haired Frenchman wandering the streets at these late hours easily.

His hopes came to pass. He spotted Francois on a street corner near a large resort hotel. Perhaps one of Francois' favorite haunts, but he was not alone. There was another kindred with him.

Michael was curious as to why Darrel Mills would be talking to Francois in such an animated way. He pulled his truck over to the side of the road. Both kindred spotted that immediately and tensed up, as if readying for battle. They eased only slightly when they saw Michael get out.

"Michael." said Darrel first, both relief and surprise in his voice.

"You seem to have been expecting someone else." observed Michael. "And are most pleased to not see them."

"The Bishop has gone mad with fear of you. He's snapped completely." said Darrel.

"Now he's hunting me." added Francois. "Send his cult after me again, this time to steal my blood and absorb my strength."

Michael remembered vaguely the lessons Deborah had taught him about diablerie. "I think, Francois, the time for neutrality is over."

Francois nodded.

"It's worse than you think, both of you. He's already taken Shakespeare, drank him, drained him. But he has Ernie and the rest of the Disciples as his prisoners."

"Mon dieu." said Francois. "If he takes the blood of an elder..."

"If he takes them all too quickly, the Beast within will consume him." added Darrel. "He'll become a true monster and he'll blow the Masquerade wide open."

"Then he must be stopped...immediately." said Michael.

"If you're planning to make a move, now is the time." said Darrel.

"And why should I trust your word on this, Mr. Mills? You are a Disciple and servant of the Bishop."

"Former servant." admitted Darrel. "Yes, I'd lie to you in a heartbeat and you'd rightly have no reason to trust me. But I won't lie to him." He pointed at Francois. "I'm not that stupid."

Michael accepted that. "Solomon still sleeps. I'll want him." He said.

"There is a way to awaken a torpid vampire. If he drinks the blood of an elder..." said Francois.

"You are such an elder, Francois."

Francois nodded, "But I do not know where Solomon is."

"Max knows."

"Then I will find Max."

"And I will find Damien." said Michael. "Tomorrow night we meet at the Fox Club to plan our attack."


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