Thursday, June 26, 2014

Awww!

I was tooling around with a new anime game the other day. As I often do, I recycle characters from my various fictional universes as role-playing characters in MMOs, single player games, and tabletop games. So my first characters ("toons" would be a very appropriate slang term to use here) were the cast from VbN Act One. Got a couple of cool screen caps while messing around.


That's Boar and Deborah sharing an affectionate moment.


And here's the first of Michael's ill-fated romances brought to life. That's him and Kris Keller.

I might make a few more of these if I keep playing the game. Part of the issue is the English hack is still incomplete. The other part is it's quite a bit more risque than what I like. Still, these pics might be worth it, even if just to imagine these characters "anime style."


Tuesday, June 24, 2014

Random Thoughts

Thought #1
I set myself a goal this summer: Write 2-3 pages each day. I did this in part because I have one friend who's gotten into creative writing as a hobby and he's been asking for advice. I have classmate from high school who is now a published author. I was beginning to feel a little left behind.

So far, so good. It's helped me immensely to plow through the opening chapters of PbN 1999. I'm also still posting Star Swords material on my other story page.

Thought #2
And speaking of Star Swords and other throwbacks to my past writings, I made the decision to incorporate some of my old WAS characters into PbN 1999. WAS was a near future sci-fi/political thriller role-playing game that I made in high school. It was basically James Bond's universe with giant world-spanning conspiracies, megalomaniacal super-villains, and cool gadgets, with suave super spies and assassins as the heroes. I wrote a series of mini-novels centered on some of the characters (some of my very first forays into creative writing).

About 15 years ago, I gave some thought to reviving the franchise. I made some notes on a possible revamp of the universe, taking out some of the more fantastical elements, changing character names and backgrounds, and coming up with a few brief plot ideas. What emerged would have been a pretty cool set of stories, but I got distracted as I often do and that material has laid fallow ever since.

Enter Hunter: The Vigil. When I started doing background work for the Reign of Terror in Act Four of VbN, I started reading a lot of HtV sourcebooks. There I was introduced to Task Force Valkyrie, the government agency tasked with dealing with supernatural threats. I started using them as minions for the frighteningly well-connected Damian Drake. Now, in PbN 1999, they're going have a larger role.

But I ran into a problem. Michael's author alias is "Alex McCoid," which is the name of the protagonist in the WAS stories. I wasn't using the name for anything so I simply stole it. Now I'm debating whether to keep that as Michael's pen name or swap it for something else so I can introduce the "real" Alex McCoid as a TFV agent.

*Sigh*

This is what happens when I don't think things through.

Thought #3
Made a quick stop at IMDB today. The little front page trivia bit was about True Blood.

"Each episode title is also the title of a song from popular or Christian music."

Fuck! Here I was thinking I was doing something unique with the chapter titles of my story.

Thought #4
I've been wavering again on the lolicon aspect to Sarah's character. Only this time, I wavering towards making her look more juvenile rather less. 

I've always been torn about this particular issue. There are very few things in our society more taboo than pedophilia, so I've been questioning how much I want to court the controversy here. Of course, Sarah is not actually a child. By the end of VbN she would be very nearly 30, but looks somewhere around 12 because of when she was embraced as a vampire.

But I've got a particular plot point in some upcoming chapters that really only works if Sarah truly looks her age at the onset. She has to look 12 or the changes that she's about to undergo won't have the impact that they're supposed to, on either the characters in the story or you as the readers.

So I'm shifting her appearance younger again and taking my chances with the "Eww! Gross!" reaction people will likely have when she and Michael get busy.

Saturday, June 21, 2014

Act One Chapter Four - Torn

Michael slid into the hot tub on the porch of Prince Deborah Means’ apartment haven in Roanoke. He was not supposed to be there. Deborah had forbidden him from ever entering the city of Roanoke without a direct summon from her. But his purposes tonight required that he ignore that edict.

Yes, it was an act of defiance, but Michael’s intent was not hostile. He meant no harm to her, to her city, or to any of her schemes. He meant instead to finally seal the breach between them. He wasn’t completely sure how to do that, but he knew that he couldn’t do it via a messenger from Blacksburg. It had to be face-to-face.

He came unarmed and when he arrived, the hot tub gave him an idea. He stripped down completely; no swim trunks, no underwear, naked as the day he was born. There would be no secrets, no tricks, no place to conceal anything that might threatening.

All that, and the simple fact that lust had been the one thing that had always bound them together. When Michael first came to Blacksburg as a freshman college student, Deborah pursued him with an obsessive and relentless tenacity. He’d always said no in an effort to retain fidelity to Rebecca back home, but once Rebecca dropped him for someone else, Michael caved in.

The months that followed after that were a blur of shameless hedonism. Deborah was his first…at nearly everything. She was his first sexual encounter. They were each other’s guinea pig test subject for nearly every sexual position known to humankind. Every orifice too. Just the two of them or with others.

No other partner Michael had, with the exception perhaps of Sammy McKay, came even close to Deborah’s creativity and eagerness to try just about anything. Deborah was, of course, born in a brothel. A bastard daughter raised to be prostitute like her mother. Sex had been a part of her life since day one and none of that changed after she was made a vampire. When she turned Michael, she put the decades of her experience and her unchanging teenage beauty to work on him.

As he waited and thought about their history together, Michael came to realize that Deborah really was a category all her own. He loved genuinely and passionately several of his partners: Kris, Leigh, and, of course, Rebecca and Sarah. Sex with them was intimacy and emotion, the physical expression of the truth of who they were as a couple.

Then, there were his blood dolls. Food and fun and little more, as he had said to Keiko the night after he’d first taken her. But sex with them was often rather vanilla, fun for the moment, but carried little to no emotional weight for the long term. Nor was there much experimentation. The harem was better about that, but there were still places Michael would not go with them. He knew he could. With the thrall-bond, he could make them do whatever he wished with little consequences. But even though they were his slaves, Michael chose for his own sake not to violate or disrespect whatever limits they set. To do otherwise was to set himself on a path he did not wish to go down, a path his inner Beast would enjoy far too much.

That left Deborah all by herself as Michael’s teacher, mentor, sire, and lover. He missed the relationship they had once had. He missed it when he had fled to Tidewater. Michael wondered if his preference for petite women and redheads had anything to do with trying to find a substitute for Deborah. But when he returned to Roanoke, Michael did not get back what he had hoped. His relationship with Deborah was now marred by her fears of Michael’s power and her rage at Rebecca’s departure, which she blamed completely on Michael.

The elevator doors to the penthouse opened and Deborah stepped out with her two thrall bodyguards, nondescript thugs that towered over the diminutive Prince. She and the bodyguards spotted him pretty much immediately. The guards made to draw their weapons, but Deborah stopped them. She then dismissed them and walked out onto the patio herself.

“This is a bold stroke.” She said.

“I missed your pleasant company.” He admitted.

“You know the law.”

“And if you were all that interested in upholding it, you’d have sent your two thugs to throw me out of here. That or stake me for the sun.”

“And we both know that those two morons, for all their size, would be no match for you in a fight.” She looked down at the water and saw his state of undress.. “Naked or not.”

“True.” He replied. “You know, I left town for a few days a week or so ago. Went back home. Got into a tussle with the so-called Prince of Charleston. Killed him with one shot. Drove my knife right through his brain and it must have struck with such force that I just pulverized everything. He turned to ash. Just like that.”

“You planning to duplicate that feat tonight?”

“If you genuinely thought I was, you’d have long since fled.” Said Michael. “You and you alone continue to see our relationship only in terms of our political power. It’s always about that moment that you’re convinced is coming when I decide to usurp your throne from you.”

Michael paused and then began to speak again, his tone one of exasperation. “I don’t know what else to do. In the two years you have sat your throne, I have done nothing but support you. I have stayed out of Roanoke, kept to myself. I have backed ever edict, every law you have imposed. My power, such as it is, has served you and you alone since I arrived. What more proof do you need of my good intentions?”

“I doubt you have anything to offer that could do that.”

“Well, there is one thing I haven’t tried yet.” He splashed the water playfully, implying she should get in.

“Really?” responded Deborah incredulously.

Michael looked her up and down. She was still as pretty and sexy as he remembered. Petite, buxom, with the porcelain features of her Chinese mother and the fiery red hair of her Irish sailor father, she epitomized the term “exotic beauty.” Her clothing was, as always, intended to entice and tempt, showing just enough leg, midriff, and cleavage to grab the attention of any red-blooded male.

“Why not?” retorted Michael. “It is what brought us together.” He began to articulate some of what he’d been thinking about over the past hour: the fun they’d had, the experimentation, and so forth. But he didn’t get very far.

“Oh, shut up. If you want it that badly…” She began pulling her clothes off.

Deborah undressed so enthusiastically that Michael strongly suspected that she wanted him almost as badly as he wanted her. It wasn’t long before she was on top of him.

As he went in and out of her, Michael began to think this was a little too easy. When she raked her nails across his back hard enough to draw blood, Michael realized he was right.

First it was his back, then his face. None of it was causing any lasting damage, as Michael’s vampire metabolism regenerated such minor injuries almost instantaneously.

Deborah then put both her hands around his neck and began to squeeze, as if trying to strangle him. All the while, she pounded on him all the harder. It was almost as if she was trying to vent all her rage and anguish through sex.

After a few minutes, she slid off of him and stepped out of the hot tub. She grabbed Michael forcefully by the arm and wordlessly yanked him out as well. She half-dragged him over to another part of the porch, shoved him down, and grabbed him by the balls.

“I could rip this right off of you right now.” She threatened.

“It would grow back.” Michael replied quietly.

“Yeah, it would, wouldn’t it?” She mounted him again and began anew: the scratching, the biting, the choking, the fucking, all of it. After a few more minutes she screamed out a climax that sounded half orgasm and half cry of rage and rolled off of Michael.

Michael lay there for a moment not entirely sure of what had just happened to him. He looked at Deborah. She sat motionless; her face was like stone, full of anger and frustration. Her eyes stared out over the city; it was almost as if she’d forgotten Michael was there at all.

“Happy now?” asked Michael, trying to gauge her mood. “I’ve heard of hate-fucking, but it’s something else entirely to experience it.”

She continued to ignore him.

Michael sat up. “Hey,” he said, trying to draw her attention. “I get the feeling you needed that. Needed to get that all out somehow.” She turned and glared at him, a look of pure fury and hatred. But it lasted only a brief moment before she did something Michael would not have thought possible.

Deborah turned away from him, curled up, pulling her knees up to her chest, and then burst into tears. Vampires were certainly capable of the full range of human emotions, but for Deborah to cave into her grief in front of someone she considered an enemy was unheard of. But then again, was Michael really an enemy?

He scooted closer to her and placed an understanding hand on her shoulder. She looked up at him. “I know I shouldn’t do this. I know you think me weak.” She admitted.

“No,” Michael interrupted. “This is the first honest moment you’ve had in two years. You wasted all those months playing games, trying to convince yourself and everyone else that you hated me for driving away Rebecca. All of it was just an excuse to avoid doing what you’re doing now.” As Michael finished speaking, Deborah went back to her tears.

He let her cry it out for minutes upon minutes. After an age, she stopped and began to compose herself again. Deborah sat up.

“I was born a bastard”, she explained, “in a trashy whorehouse to a father who didn’t know I existed and to a mother who only saw another slut she could sell on the street one day. Then Lucy came along and made me a vampire, and for nearly 50 years, I’ve danced through this nightmarish world, full of cutthroats and betrayers. Nothing in my life story is soft or kind or pure, mortal or kindred. There was only the moment, what little pleasure I could grasp in the now. Never in a million years did I ever believe I would actually fall in love with someone.”

Deborah looked at Michael and took him in hand. “It’s said you found someone in Tidewater. Someone you left behind to come here.”

“I thought she was dead.” Michael admitted. “I moved on because I felt there was nothing left for me there. Only the mission that I came there with remained. So I came home, back to you, back to this place, to fulfill my promises.” Michael started to shake his head. “But my destiny is not here. I came here tonight to make my peace with you, one last shot to finally get this bullshit that’s kept us apart gone. I wanted to do that because I’m leaving Blacksburg. I’m going back to Tidewater to claim what’s mine.”

Deborah smiled, weakly at first but then stronger as she heard what he was saying. “You are still so human.” She teased. “Why would it matter what was between us when you’re planning to leave?”

“You’re my sire, my ally, my friend,” he paused. “My lover, my first lover at that. Your blessing matters to me.”

“Sentimentality is a weakness, Michael.” Warned Deborah. “Especially in our world.”

“So says the one who was just curled up like baby crying her eyes out over a lost love.”

Deborah frowned and turned away. Michael took her by the chin and turned her head to him. “It’s not a weakness, Deborah. You yourself once told me that our feelings are what keep us grounded, keep us sane. I’m honored you trusted me enough to allow yourself that moment of honesty and vulnerability. I know that wasn’t easy.”

“You’re probably the only kindred I could have gotten away with doing that in front of.” Admitted Deborah. “Yeah, I trust you. I shouldn’t, but I do.”

“So we’re cool?”

Deborah nodded. “I was so angry with you, and yet so glad you were not only alive but successful. You destroyed The Djinn, gave me my throne, but you also chased her away. I didn’t know what to feel about you.” She paused and smiled again. Michael had missed seeing that. She continued. “We wasted two years of playing at being enemies when it’s not really what either of us wanted. I should’ve or you should’ve…”

“If Sarah were here, she no doubt tell us that this was not fated to happen any earlier than now. You weren’t ready. And really neither was I.”

“I’m not used to you spouting philosophy and sounding like a wise seasoned kindred.”

“I have my moments.”

“Yeah, but make no mistake, Michael. We’ve forgiven one another, but that doesn’t happen much in our world. Some enemies stay that way and friends are hard to come by. I wouldn’t expect kindness or mercy from even your former allies in Tidewater. Max will most certainly try to kill you if you go back.”

“He can try. But others have tried too and they all failed.”

“He’s the childe of Mathias and just as cunning.”

“Oh, I’m well aware of that. When you know the nature of a thing, you know what it’s capable of.” Retorted Michael, quoting the film Blade. “Damian Drake will do what he does best, try to maneuver himself to whichever side he thinks is the winning one. Francois du Bois is a man of honor and nobility like Solomon. The fact that I saved his life twice will not be ignored by him.

“As for Max, well, he’s a slimy little coward who wouldn’t dare confront me face-to-face. No, he’ll come up with some scheme to knife me in the back when I’m not looking. The rest, well, they’re the wild cards. They’re the unknowns. But those three are really the only ones that matter and I’ve got one, maybe two of them, already on my side.”

“Max is the one that worries me.”

Michael kissed her on the cheek affectionately. “In less than an hour, you go from hating my guts to worrying about my safety. I love you, Deborah. I wouldn’t worry. Maybe I’ll just walk in and slice him in half and then watch the others scramble for my favor.” Michael smiled wickedly. “Wouldn’t that be fun?”

“It frightens me how you can shift from gentle loving Michael to imperious primogen Michael within a breath.”

“A trick you taught me, dear Deborah.” Said Michael. “You know, it feels good to let imperious primogen Michael out for a breath of fresh air. I am tired of wallowing here trying to drown myself in excess, a pale shadow of what I once was. I am going back to Sarah. I am going back for what is rightfully mine, and hell itself will not stop me. Let alone Prince Maximilian.”

“No, I would imagine not. You want my blessing on your endeavors? Well, you have it.”

“I have something else to offer you.”

“Oh?”

“A piece of information I’ve learned. An old acquaintance of mine recently stumbled across a mutual friend while visiting the city of Philadelphia. At a club called Studio Gothic on South Street, the city’s nightclub district.”

Deborah’s mouth opened in shock and surprise. “Rebecca?”

Michael nodded. “We now know where she went.”

“To Monroe? To Philadelphia?” Deborah frowned. “That’s a hornets’ nest if there ever was one.”

“You faced down Mathias and The Djinn. What does Thomas Monroe have that makes you so afraid of him?”

Deborah looked at him hard, as if debating in her own mind what to say next. “We may have reconciled, Michael, but there are things that I can’t entrust even to you. One day maybe, you’ll find out what I mean.”

“To go to her, you would have to surrender your throne.” Admitted Michael. “I know that has to be a hard choice, but if you love her…”

“I wouldn’t face Monroe even for that. God help her if he finds out…”

“Finds out what?” Now Michael was growing concerned.

“I can’t say anymore.” Said Deborah. “But we both know how capable she is. I wouldn’t worry about her. Still, knowing where she is, where I might find her if I do build up courage enough to go, that’s worth the world to me, Michael. Thank you.”

“Good, because I have a boon to ask. I wish to be granted the right to sire another kindred.”

“Are you taking this new kindred with you or leaving him or her to mind your affairs here?”

“Leaving them. I’ve made some significant investment in Blacksburg that I’ll probably need in the near term for my purposes in Tidewater.”

“Then how will you mentor this virgin kindred?” critiqued Deborah.

“A fair question. I was thinking of a very good mentor who could guide my childe in our ways.” He gave Deb a sly grin.

“Hence your need to reconcile with me.” Deborah laughed. “So it wasn’t sentimentality after all.”

“You wouldn’t be laughing if you actually thought I was lying to you a minute ago. That doesn’t mean however that I don’t have other hopes and motives too.”

“Why should I not make this prospect of yours my childe then?”

“That would be your prerogative as Prince.”

“So which of those beauties do you have in mind?”

“I don’t. I was actually thinking someone who’s done far more to earn it. One of my first thralls, my friend Corwin Morse.”

Deborah reached down and gave Michael’s cock a playful stroke. “Is he…”

“You have a dirty mind.” Teased Michael.

Deborah’s face grew serious. “If I’m denied those I really want, I would prefer your alternative be a decent distraction.” Michael smiled, realizing the word “those” easily and probably included him as well as Rebecca.

“Well, he’s enthusiastic. I’ll give him that. Takes his pick of the harem a few nights of the week.” Michael paused remembering. “Rebecca enjoyed him more than once back in the day, but as to his physical attributes, I’ll leave such judgments to you.”

Deborah smiled wickedly, as if an evil idea had crossed her mind, an evil idea that she liked very much. “This is another bold stroke on your part. You want to embrace a new childe so you can maintain a toehold on your domain here. A new childe that could act as your spy in my regime. A childe who you think is charming and eager to seduce me into his confidence just you can wrap me around your finger by proxy.”

Michael frowned at first, but soon realized she was being facetious, playing with him and his request. Deborah continued. “You might have to do a better job of persuading me to buy into this dangerous scheme of yours.”

“What did you have in mind?”

---

Michael spent the next week in Deborah’s arms. It was like the old nights, those nights after he was turned. They talked together, they laughed together, they played together, and (of course) they slept together.

Deborah held court that week at her usual site, the Star at Mill Mountain Park. Outdoors, open, much different that the old stuffy cathedral meetings of Mathias and The Djinn. It was the one night each month when Michael had previously been permitted to travel into Roanoke.

But the full number of Roanoke’s kindred was much diminished from its lofty heights when Michael was turned. Solomon was on his travels again. Ernie was gone. Mathias, Andreas, and The Djinn were dead. Only Julia added to their number to replace those who had gone missing, leaving the whole kindred court of the city to number a feeble five.

But there was another difference this night. At every court over the last two years, ever since Michael had returned, he’d been delegated to the back of the gathering. A visual representation of the hostility between him and Deborah. This night, however, saw sire and childe standing side by side.

Deborah announced her decision that evening: permission was granted for Michael to sire another.

After court concluded, Michael returned to Deborah’s apartment to gather his things. He needed to return to Blacksburg to make ready for the next steps in his plan. But he took a moment of pause and entered into Solomon’s old dojo.

Deborah had taken the liberty of redecorating the room somewhat. She had, over the past two years, painted a series of portraits that now decorated the far wall of the dojo. The Daeva sense of beauty was manifest in those paintings; Michael had always thought Deb more musical than visual, but now saw she was both.

The central painting and the tallest was of Deborah herself. She was nude, her dragon tattoo finely detailed as it traced down the side of her body. Every delicate detail of her beautiful anatomy was on display in vivid realism. By any measure, it was a gorgeous portrait of an astoundingly beautiful young woman. Although, Michael found some amusement that the shortest character depicted in this menagerie had the tallest portrait.

To the left of Deborah were two portraits of men: Solomon and Michael. They were likewise nude and both were looking towards the center, towards Deborah. Solomon’s motorcycle was the background of his painting and Michael’s portrait showed him bearing a sword (Hiroshi’s katana, to be precise.)

To the right of Deborah were two women. Nudity was the theme of these paintings, so Michael was not surprised to find these the same. These two also looked towards Deborah. The innermost, corresponding with Michael opposite, was Rebecca and she too held a blade in hand, her scimitar. The outermost woman was one Michael didn’t recognize. Behind her was a large bull with a blanket draped over its back. On the blanket was a family crest Michael did not recognize.

Deborah arrived as Michael surveyed the paintings. She joined him in the dojo.

“I walked past these all week long. Never took the time to really look at them until now.” He said to her. “They’re exquisite.”

“Didn’t know I could paint, did you?”

“I knew you could sing. Play instruments. Write poetry, and lyrics, and music. I suppose it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine your creativity expanding into visual arts.” Michael stepped forward to look more closely at his own portrait. He then looked back at Deborah.

“I’m not sure I’m that big.” He said, referring to his phallus. “Is that a compliment or wishful thinking?”

“Maybe a bit of both.” Teased Deb.

“And who’s the fourth? The other three have shared your bed, so I assume she’s one of your past lovers.”

“Can you not guess?”

Michael thought for a moment. “Your sire. It has to be.”

Deb nodded. “Lucy Bonneville, in all her beautiful glory. At least, as I remember it.”

“I thought you hated her.”

“I do,” said Deb. “And I love her all the same.” She gestured towards Michael’s portrait. “Just like you. When I painted you, we were enemies. Rivalry and allegiance. Hatred and love. These are fluid concepts for those of us who live forever. There may come a day when the only thing you have left of your past is your worst enemy. What then? Do you eradicate them because they are your enemy or do preserve them because they are the only remaining link to memories you don’t want to forget?” She paused and smiled. “Hell, one moment your foe may become your lover again. Like we did.”

“You sound almost like you want that with her.”

“At times. But right now,” Deborah ran her hand gracefully across Rebecca’s portrait, as if caressing its subject, “I would give anything to have her back. But tomorrow? A year from now? A century? Who knows? Solomon took off into the night once more because I refused his advances. He wanted the past to be again when I had long ago thought he had no such interest anymore. Will there come a day when I pine for Lucy? Maybe.”

“She’s dead. That’s a hopeless dream.”

Deborah opened her mouth as if to say something in response, but then closed it again. She walked over to Michael and kissed him. “Go back to Blacksburg, my childe. Turn your new childe. I will await word of him here.”

---

Michael spent much of his drive back to Blacksburg thinking about his week with Deborah and largely about the things that had gone unsaid in their conversations. But he soon put it out of his mind as he made ready to welcome Corwin into darkness.

He told the harem girls his plan; Julia, Mitch, and Boar also. They made to set things up for the night it would happen.

The night began with a late (for normal humans) dinner at the Farmhouse restaurant in Christiansburg. Michael knew of Corwin’s fondness for the place, so he treated his loyal thrall to a fine steak dinner. Michael enjoyed his meal as well, but as was the nature of vampires, he gained no sustenance from his food.

The two then drove back to the villa. All seven women of the harem were waiting for them.

“Alright, your gift does not end with dinner.” Said Michael. “There is dessert. Pick one, two, or as many as you like.”

Michael’s comments about Corwin’s enthusiasm proved true, as he took Rhea and Angelica off to the hot tub in the back part of the courtyard.

Julia moved to Michael’s side. “What happens when the moment comes? As it did for me?”

“Well, I’m doing the same thing I did with you. Those he didn’t pick…” Michael gestured to the other women. “should leave now. Once he’s spent his energies on Angelica and Rhea, I’d ask you to spirit them out of here. That’ll leave only the punch bowl full of blood that Angelica brought over earlier for his Beast to frenzy all over.”

“Good,” said Julia. “I didn’t think you’d want to put any of your lovely ladies in harm’s way.”

“No, not like this.”

---

It went exactly as planned. While Corwin made wild vigorous love to his two favorites of Michael’s harem (Michael had not been the least bit surprised that Corwin had chosen the two that he had.)

Once Corwin was done and sleeping off his exercise, Julia whisked Rhea and Angelica out of the villa, leaving Michael alone with Corwin. Michael set up a punch bowl with stolen blood bank stock, much as he had when he turned Julia. He then went into Corwin’s room.

Corwin was laid out on the top of his king size bed, naked and rather contented looking. Michael took a brief evaluation of his friend’s physical assets, wondering if Deborah really would find him to her liking, before pouncing upon Corwin and draining him dry.

Michael then fed Corwin in turn from himself, from his own vampire blood. The transformation happened quickly and painfully, as it always did. This was the third time now Michael had taken a childe, a more prodigious rate than most vampires by far. Still, he had his reasons.

Corwin drained the punch bowl after a frantic dash from his room to find fresh sustenance. When Corwin returned to himself, Michael called Deborah.

“It’s done.” He said. “We’re going hunting. You know where.”

---


“It’s almost overwhelming.” Said Corwn, trying to take in the world with new eyes.

The two of them were in downtown Blacksburg, walking the same streets Deborah had taken Michael on nearly seven years earlier for his first hunt. There were things that were much different. Some bars had closed down. Others had opened. The Lyric theatre was no longer a half-abandoned dump, but now a thriving indie movie house. The Hobby Shop was gone and it seemed that RecEx (the Record Exchange music store) was soon to follow, the latter a victim of the new Internet age and the Napster craze.

Michael made sure to not be too distracted by his sense of nostalgia. He was bringing a hungry virgin vampire through the crowded streets of a college town on a Monday night. The late September date had meant they hadn’t gotten their evening started until close to 9pm, so it was now past midnight. But that hadn’t much dimmed the energy of the college crowd about that night.

“We should probably find more private hunting grounds.” Suggested Michael. He turned south on Main Street and then headed up a side street away from downtown. As they headed up Jackson towards a series of churches, Michael again repeated the lesson he’d given twice before, as it once been given to him: “Feed without killing.”

A skinny nerdy looking fellow was walking towards them. Corwin took his moment, grabbing the hapless fellow and dragging him into the bushes. There, he feasted.

Michael checked the victim after Corwin had finished and shook his head. It was going to take more than one lesson for Corwin to learn feeding restraint.

“Sorry,” Corwin admitted with a mortified look. “I didn’t want to kill him.”

“Of course not. But you must control the Beast’s impulses or you will do this again.” Michael fished out the poor kid’s wallet and drew out his gun. He fired two rounds into the body. “Let’s go.”

As they retreated with some haste, Michael explained his actions. “The gunshots will draw the police. Officer Peacetree or Sammy or both will make sure this is written up as a murder/robbery. No talk of exsanguinated bodies or vampire killings will ever reach mortal ears.”

As they came around the block, they found Deborah standing there waiting for them. “I heard the shots. I take it he failed his first test.”

Corwin was clearly angry with himself and said nothing.

“He did, but so did I. So did Rebecca.” Michael didn’t mention that one was deliberate. “In fact, Julia’s the only one of the four of us who passed on the first try.”

Deborah walked over to Corwin. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, but at the same time remember how this feels. It’ll give you resolve not to cave in again.”

“Yes, mi’lady.”

“My name is Deborah and we have many a night together in the future. No need for such formality.”

“You will answer to her as you would answer to me.” Emphasized Michael. “I will be in Tidewater, restoring my legacy. Deborah will teach you all that you need to know as kindred. She is as much your master and sire as I am.”

Corwin nodded. Michael continued. “Good, because I want my legacy here to be in the best hands possible: My sire and my childe together.”

---

“As you are now all aware,” Michael began. He was standing in the courtyard of his villa in Blacksburg. With him were Deborah, Corwin, Mitch, Boar, Julia, and the harem. “I will be departing Blacksburg to resume my position and authority in Tidewater. My intention however is to leave behind a point of retreat here in Blacksburg if things go south. I also desire to retain some influence here. To this end, I have made Corwin kindred like me.”

Michael looked the assembled group up and down. “To assist him, I have decided that not all of you will be joining me in Tidewater. Some of you will remain behind to support Corwin. Treat him as you would me. Obey him, do as he wishes. Is this understood?”

The harem nodded and Michael advanced towards Keiko. “Keiko, my dear, I know we’ve only had these few short weeks to get to know one another again, but I believe it would be a very unfair thing for me to take you away from your studies here at Virginia Tech. I have decided therefore that you will remain behind.”

Keiko nodded, her face one of disappointment. Michael moved next to Donna. “As you might guess, Donna, I have made the same decision for you and for the same reason. You are a student here. Your best way of serving me is to remain that.”

Michael moved on to Rhea. “Rhea, it is clear to me that you and Corwin have a great fondness for one another. It has not gone unnoticed how often you two are together and I feel it would be unjust of me to separate you now. You will remain as well.” Unlike the others, Rhea cracked a smile at the announcement.

Michael then turned to Boar, standing beside Mitch and Julia. “You three are my arm, my backbone, my armor, my sword. Without you, this journey would be a fool’s errand. So, you’re going with, if you so choose.”

Michael moved next to Angelica. “I know, Angelica, that you and Corwin likewise have a great fondness for one another. I also know that Mitch and others can get themselves in over their heads in this business pretty easily. I’m going to need your medical skills, so I’m asking you to join us.” Angelica nodded.

“Sammy,” said Michael, moving to the woman next to Angelica. “do I even have to say it?”

“Not really.” She said with a grin. “I didn’t figure you could live without me.”

“That leaves you, Terra,” said Michael, “and you may have the most important task of all. It’s not secret that I go back not merely to claim my prestige and power, but also to regain someone I should never have left behind. I don’t what Sarah will say or do when I see her and may be all for naught, but before we even get to that point, I’ll need your help. She’s gone to ground and I don’t know where.”

“Neither do I.” admitted Terra.

“No, but you were part of her coven. You, of all people, would have the best chance of tracking her down again. That’s why I need you to come along.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I am certain you will.” Michael stepped back and addressed the whole crowd. “We leave tomorrow at sundown. Until then, make your preparations and if those are done, enjoy yourselves.” Michael then dismissed them with a wave of his hand. He then turned and walked over to Deborah.

“I wish you luck.” She admitted. “You’ll probably need it.”

“With Max or with Sarah?”

“That question alone says volumes about where your fears really lie.” She smiled and changed the subject. “You know, I was thinking. About my portrait gallery with me and all my favorite lovers. Were you to do the same, who would you paint?”

“Depends on how big I would make it, I suppose. You see a whole bunch of candidates right here.”

“Do I? You see I think it would show you and three others.”

“And they would be?”

“If I know the answer, surely you do: Me, Sarah, and Rebecca. No one else matters to you. Not really.” She smiled. “You’ve regained me and now you go for Sarah. Call it a hunch, but I don’t think you’ll linger long in Tidewater before setting your sights on Philadelphia. You’ll not be happy until you have all three of us. That’s just your way.”

“Tidewater is ambitious enough. Philadelphia can wait.”

“But for how long? I wonder.”

---

Tiberius pushed up the heavy metal grate the covered the storm sewer. He looked about in the dim light. There were people all up and down the wooded path, but none took notice of him. That was, of course, the plan; his vampire stealth concealed him well. It was necessary in every way. Not only was he about some mischief tonight, but his appearance would have frightened even the most jaded of onlookers. With no nose and deformed ears, Tiberius was as ugly as a Nosferatu got.

He bounded across Forbidden Drive, so called he was told because it was “forbidden” to drive on it. The gravel street was intended for foot traffic only as it snaked through the whole of Fairmount Park. It was early evening, not much more than a hour after sunset, and people on this stretch of the drive were still plentiful. As night advanced, it would grow more sparse and more dangerous.

Tiberius found his perch and took a seat. He had a clear view of the path with its late joggers, wandering homeless, and a few thrill-seekers looking for a secluded spot for an outdoor tryst. Tiberius saw all types on these little excursions. He was master of his domain and his domain was the extensive underground network of pipes, sewer tunnels, and subway trains that underlay the entirety of Philadelphia. He likewise boldly claimed pretty much any above-ground territory within a few dozen yards of any sewer access point. He doubted that claim would stand up in front of the Prince, but thus far no one had ever caught him poaching in their hunting ground. Tiberius was far too slick for that. Even if they had, his sire had taught him well.

Tiberius was the son of Maximilian, the one-time Prince of Williamsburg, Virginia. The two had ruled that hermitage city with a combination of ruthless justice and blackmail. Nothing escaped their notice. If you picked your nose, Max and Tiberius knew about it before you could flick the snot away. When Max went into torpor, Tiberius struck out on his own and settled in Philadelphia. He’d used those same skills to amass a significant amount of power. Now he ruled the Carthian Core coterie and had a seat of his own on the Primogen council.

He’d gained that power in large part at the expense of Princes Thomas Monroe and Elias Walsh. Their vast network in the Roman Catholic church of the city had its vulnerable points; corrupt priests had a tendency to be sloppy and Tiberius was always there with a demand and a consequence to offer when they were.

But tonight’s purposes were different. It was one thing to embezzle funds from the poor box or use your church to launder gambling money. It was another entirely to hurt children and there was far too much of that going on too. Tiberius’ eyes settled on his target and he smiled grimly. After tonight, there’d be one less abusive priest for Prince Walsh to make use of.

The two priests were jogging and were attired appropriately. To any casual onlooker, it would have looked like just two guys out for some evening exercise. But those who spent a lot of time in this part of Fairmount Park knew them both, regardless of whether they were in shorts-and-t-shirts or their clerical shirts.

Father Brian was the younger, and he seemed to Tiberius to be one of the few genuinely good priests in Monroe/Walsh’s church. He talked the talk and walked the walk, preaching Jesus, feeding the poor, caring for the less fortunate, the whole nine yards; everything a priest is supposed to do. He was reasonably new, had only taken his vows a year or so ago. Too new perhaps for his companion to have drawn him over to the dark side. Now there was his fondness for that one young lady in his parish, the wife of a parishioner, but so far he’d not acted on it and broken his vows. Still, some temptation was normal and even if Brian caved, a bit of forbidden fun between consenting adults was a far cry to the sins of his companion.

The older priest was Brian’s opposite in nearly every way. Where Brian was dark of skin and hair (good Italian stock), Father Jacob was pale with hair as white as snow. As he jogged, he looked every bit the old man trying to recapture his lost youth through vigorous exercise and failing miserably at it. Even now, Jacob was winded and red in the face as he tried to keep up with Brian.

Tiberius smiled. That weariness would be to his advantage.

Jacob ran a children’s ministry at their parish and most people would have found it odd that the elder and more senior priest had assigned to himself that task, one normally reserved for younger and less seasoned clergy. There, of course, a reason. Jacob was molesting nearly every child in the program: boy, girl, from toddler to teen. He was a wolf in the fold and no one seemed to know it was going on. No one but the children being victimized and the monstrous vampire who had watched Jacob do it.

Tonight, this abomination would end.

Father Jacob stopped to catch his breath in pretty much the same spot he always did. Brian shrugged in faux annoyance. This was part of their routine. Brian would tease the older man about how out of shape he was and then keep on going, leaving Jacob behind. There was little danger in that. The two priests were well known in the park and the criminals knew to leave them alone. Not only did they come by once a week to deliver meals to the park’s homeless residents, they also never carried any money on them while jogging. Only an inexperienced or foolish mugger would do anything to either of them, alone or together.

Murdering Jacob would seem to all of them to be a senseless act of brutality, but then again, they didn’t know what Tiberius knew.

Brian was a good 100 yards down the path when Tiberius stood up. He glanced about. The people on Forbidden Drive had thinned enough for Tiberius to make his move with little chance of being seen. He stretched his legs and rushed forward with haste only a monster of the night could muster. Jacob barely registered Tiberius’s presence before he’d grabbed the priest and dragged him into the woods beyond.

“Time to pay the piper, Father.” growled Tiberius as he sank his fangs into the priest’s neck. Jacob struggled for only a few moments before his life drained away into Tiberius. Tiberius then tossed the dead priest aside and savored both the taste of the blood and his victory over one of Walsh’s more despicable minions.

It was then that Tiberius realized he wasn’t alone.

A dark skinned man in a long trench coat was leaning against a tree a few yards away. “Did you enjoy that, mi amigo?” The man asked, with a slight but noticeable Puerto Rican accent.

“Santiago.” said Tiberius with annoyance. “What brings The Flame out to my hunting grounds?”

“They are not your hunting grounds.” emphasized Santiago. “Nor did you have permission to feed and kill from Stirling’’s herd.”

“And you are not kindred, magi!” Tiberius spat the last word with a bit of disgust. “You have no authority over me.”

“Only that authority given me by your Prince.”

Tiberius snarled, but deep down, fear was beginning to creep in. Santiago was a powerful wizard, one of the Dark Brotherhood. It was not unheard of for kindred to “recruit” werewolves and mages from time to time for special tasks, but most vampires left the Brotherhood alone. There was a reason for that, mostly because EVERYONE in the city feared the Brotherhood. Tiberius was one of the few that knew why.

And Tiberius had the feeling that was more why Santiago was here than a few paltry disputes over kindred hunting privileges. “Mage or no, and regardless of any sanction from the Prince, you are no match for the likes of me. I am 200 years old and far stronger than you can imagine.”

“Age does not matter.” said Santiago. “Not when I can do this.” Santiago flung out his hand as if throwing something at Tiberius. Nothing was thrown and nothing seemed to change. Tiberius began to laugh.

“Really? I know you mages are more than just parlor...” It was about that time that Tiberius noticed how incredibly hot it was suddenly getting. “No! You...” The air, the foliage, the trees, and anything else within about a foot of where Tiberius was standing suddenly erupted into flame, including Tiberius himself.

“I come by my nickname honestly.” said Santiago as Tiberius went screaming into Final Death. “And as for your nickname, Scandalmonger, you will learn no more secrets and trigger no more scandals. About us or about your Prince.”


Next Chapter

Friday, June 20, 2014

PbN Act One Chapter Three - Iris

The car pulled to a mostly-gentle stop, but not so gentle that Michael was not jostled about in his hiding place. He was awake, which told him that the sun was already down, and the stopping car told him that they were probably at their destination.

Michael unzipped the light-proof body bag he’d allowed himself to be transported within. It was undignified, but necessary. The trunk of the car came open and Michael looked up to see Corwin and Keiko both standing there.

“We are here.” announced Keiko.

Michael sat up and stepped out of the trunk. He looked around to a sight he had not laid eyes on in over seven years: Danner Meadow Park in Charleston, West Virginia. Better known to the local neighborhood as “The Landfill.”

As a vampire, Michael had no need to breathe, but he sucked in a breath nonetheless, savoring and tasting the remembered familiarity in the air. “I’m home.” he mused quietly.

“What are your instructions, master?” asked Keiko.

Almost a week had passed since Michael’s fateful conversations with Virgil, Donna, and Keiko herself. When Michael had made his request of his newest thrall, she made the arrangements to come home that next weekend. They’d left before dark, making all the necessary precautions to keep Michael out of sunlight. They’d made other precautions and plans as well. Corwin was traveling as Keiko’s new boyfriend, a good cover that explained his presence here. They were also going to use the park as a temporary haven for Michael. It was used somewhat infrequently and Michael could find a nook or cranny somewhere out of sight to bed down in the body bag during the day.

“I should probably meet go meet my parents.” Keiko continued. “They should be at the restaurant now.”

Michael nodded. “Do that. I’m going to make for my parent’s home. I’ll meet you two back here later tonight. If I have need of you, I will summon you to me.”

“Be careful, Michael.” said Corwin. “We do not who or what rules the night here.”

“It is demons of memory and emotion that I fear this night, not flesh and blood.” Michael admitted. “But there is no sense waiting any longer. I will see you both later.”

---

Michael went on foot. Again his vampire abilities aided him in this endeavor. When out of sight of mortal eyes, he could move with a swiftness no human could match, but regardless he also never tired, even while climbing the hilly yards and streets of his old South Hills neighborhood.

He reached his destination fairly quickly and he was unprepared for the emotions of seeing his old home again for the first time in years. The house was dark; his parents were clearly out for the evening. To its left was the home of Keiko’s parents, well-lit with the car parked out front. They emerged a moment later, heading off to their rendezvous with their daughter and her new “beau.” Michael kept out of sight.

To the right of Michael’s old home was another darkened residence. This was where Rebecca had once lived. He decided that would be his first destination.

Michael glanced up to the attic window on the Phillips residence. That had been her room. What would he find there? The questions began in his mind and so without any further hesitation Michael made to find his answers.

Again, using his vampire powers, he scaled the side of the house like a spider. He reached the window and gave it a gentle shove. It gave way under his hand; the family clearly saw no need to lock a window so far up. Michael stepped inside and looked around.

He saw her bed, her desk, her dresser. Posters on the wall. Again, he sucked in a breath and savored the smell of the place: somewhat musty, but still familiar. Then he realized. It was exactly as he had remembered it. Exactly! Not one thing was changed.

Everything was precisely where it was the last time he’d been in this room. All perfectly preserved, as if Rebecca’s family expected her to show up anytime and reclaim what was hers. Michael walked over to her desk. There were applications there, unfinished, for community colleges. Each one dated 1992.

The whole room was as if frozen in time. Michael went to the dresser next. He opened a drawer or two and immediately recognized outfits that she had worn in times past, still neatly folded in their place.

“It’s a shrine.” Michael said aloud, interpreting what he was seeing. “A shrine to her memory.” He walked to her bed, savoring a memory of his desire for her. He remembered fantasies, dreams, hopes, of sharing that bed with her. Michael had, of course, been sexually intimate with Rebecca after her embrace as a vampire, but the remembered fantasy was tempered little by that reality. There was something innocent in it, something genuine.

“Was it really?” Michael interrupted his own reverie. “Or was it a ‘high school crush blown way out of proportion?’” He spat out with great anger Sarah’s assessment of his relationship with Rebecca. Those words had burned in his memory for years now, largely because they were true.

“Life was simpler then.” he admitted. “Easier and more honest. I thought I had it all figured out, only to discover since that I didn’t know shit…about anything.”

He looked about the room one more time. “No. I can’t go back to this and I don’t want to.” he said aloud. “This shrine represents something that will never be again. There is no truth here. Only denial of the truth.” He went to the window and jumped to the ground below.

Getting into his parents’ home would be trickier. There would be no unlocked windows here. His father was ever cautious about security. “Too many embarrassing secrets,” Michael half-joked in his mind. Michael knew a trick or two however. He jumped up onto the back patio and slid his hand under the deck table. Sure enough, the old key to the patio door was still there.

He made his way into the dining room from the back porch and then turned to his left to go down the small hallway to his old bedroom. In contrast to what he saw at the Phillips household, here the room had been totally remodeled and refurbished. Nothing at all remained of his sanctuary for so many years of his life.

Across the hall was his sister’s room and he found it likewise radically altered. Nothing of hers remained either.

There was a part of Michael that wasn’t surprised by this, yet it was still a shock to see. His running commentary that he began in the Phillips household was now silent before the evidence he now witnessed: His parents had erased him and Miranda from their lives entirely.

That suspicion was only confirmed further when he stepped out into the living room. Not a single picture of either sibling was present. The walls that lined the staircase to the upper floor were covered with old family photos, but it was of grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins. None of his sister or of Michael himself.

Michael’s internal voice slowly began to speak again. “Of all the things I thought I’d find…

Sounds outside shook Michael from his reverie. A car had pulled into the driveway outside. Michael stepped into the stairwell and willed the shadows to mask his presence. As he faded from sight, he could hear two voices he’d not heard in years: his mother and father were outside.

They came inside, chatting away and oblivious to Michael’s presence. Michael, for his part, was thankful for the obfuscating power he’d stolen from The Djinn, but he was not thankful to find himself now face-to-face with these people. As painful as seeing the house was, seeing them in the flesh was worse.

They were talking about the meal; Michael presumed they had just come from dinner. “You know,” his mother began,” that tenderloin was just the way Michael used to like it.”

Hearing his Mom utter his name had soothing effect on Michael’s soul, but his reaction brought back almost immediate all the turmoil he’d felt since walking inside that place.

“What did I tell you about mentioning him?” growled his Dad. His dad turned and shoved closer to his mom, using his body to intimidate her. “Do we have to have this argument again? We have no children.”

“You know…” His father’s hand slapped his mother into silence.

Michael exploded into rage in that moment. It took every once of his will to not leap out and tear his father limb from limb. It would have been so easy, with his powers, his strength. But, by some miracle, he reigned in that impulse and acted upon another.

He jumped from his perch and tackled his father, knocking him off his feet. Such an aggressive move instantly broke Michael’s invisibility, which he turned to his advantage, channeling his will and the power of his blood into another stolen power, his vampiric sovereignty.

Fangs and claws, he stood before them like a nightmarish demon from hell itself. His father and mother both screamed in abject terror, before Michael cloaked himself once more and vanished from their sight.

Michael used his celerity to exit with great haste. He made his way back to the Landfill to await the return of his servants.

---

It was a few hours before Keiko and Corwin returned. Michael used the time to process all that he had seen. He’d learned a thing or two that he’d never known before. His mother was as much a victim of his father as anyone else, but she had chosen to stay behind in spite of what appeared to be an accelerating cycle of abuse. His disappearance and (he presumed) his sister’s still unknown sins had broken their marriage irrevocably. And yet his mother stayed.

Cowardice, he called it. Walking away was the braver course and the right one. Michael no longer doubted about that. For his part, he had done the right thing. He knew that now. Taking what Deborah offered him, becoming kindred, was clearly one of the best decisions of his life.

There was a moment of regret that he hadn’t taken a few precious seconds to drain his father of his life blood, an act of pure vicious spite. Michael remembered writing in one of his novels about a son killing his father and wondered briefly what it would be like to actually do it. Of course, that story also included chapter after chapter of that son’s guilt and regrets over what he had done. No, Michael decided, there was enough blood on his hands. Leaving his parents to their miseries was also the better path. And in many ways, the crueler.

Corwin’s car pulled in a few minutes after those thoughts and Michael stood up to greet his friends. Corwin walked over. “So, what did you find?” he asked casually.

Michael’s glare must have been one to melt glass because Corwin immediately shrank from him. “Alright. Wrong question. Your business.” Corwin responded submissively.

“I want to find my sister.” Michael said. He looked at Keiko. “Where might we start to do that?”

Keiko shrugged, but tried to answer. “Hard to say. She could be anywhere in the city or not even here at all anymore. But I do know one thing. There’s usually a wild bonfire most every Friday night after the football games at John Adams. Most everyone who’s into that scene from this part of town goes to it. While she may or may not be there too, you can probably guess someone is there who will know how to find her.”

Something about Keiko’s story struck Michael as odd. John Adams was Michael’s old junior high school. A wild raucous party on school property, sanctioned apparently by someone in authority, stunk of supernatural influence. That wasn’t the sort of scene for a mage or werewolf, but a changeling feeding off the emotions of revelry or a vampire seeking prey would find that right up their alley.

There was another issue, although Michael had to admit to himself if he wasn’t exaggerating the danger somewhat. What if someone there recognized him?

Still, it was their only lead.

“Let’s head over to JA and see what’s what.”

---

The Friday night football game was just wrapping up as they pulled in. That gave the three of them a perfect chance to check out whoever was setting things up. Michael scanned about, looking for whatever shadowy influence might be behind this party, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. No kindred. No fae. No nothing other than a bunch of high school and college age kids getting ready for a kegger.

The three of them joined in to help set up, allowing them to ask questions about Miranda. No one had seen anyone that matched his sister’s description. In return, they received some queries about themselves. Who were they? A few recognized Keiko, so they were able to spin that into a story about how she was home for the weekend and had brought a couple of friends up with her from college. (Not far from the truth.)

It was not long before the crowd began to thicken. If anything, Keiko had underestimated the significance of this party. There must have been over a hundred people there and it was still growing larger. And the make-up of the crowd was quite varied. It was young, but not all that young. There were more than a few of Corwin’s age amidst the college aged and the high schoolers.

A huge bonfire marked the center of the festivities. Michael kept his distance and the Beast within him was grateful for that. He poured himself a beer and began to mingle, couching his queries about his sister as a “lost connection,” someone he claimed to have met there another time and wanted to find again.

Time and again, he got the same answer. If anyone would know about a girl at the party, “they” would. No one said anything further about who “they” were, but Michael now knew without any doubt that the party’s mysterious master would put in an appearance at some point.

Michael made his way over to Keiko and Corwin. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two really were a couple.” He admitted to them.

“Well, her folks think we’re out for the late movie.” Said Corwin.

“They wanted to put a curfew on me, but then I reminded them that I’m 18 with a full ride scholarship. Then they just asked us to not wake them when we came home.”

Michael laughed at that. “Any luck?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Some.” Said Keiko. “A couple folks said the organizers of this affair keep pretty good tabs on who comes to it. They might know something.”

“With such a vast crowd, I’m curious as to how they do that.” Wondered Corwin aloud.

“Thralls.” Said Michael coldly. “This is a vampire’s hunting ground and his or her servants are in the mix of this crowd, cataloging anyone they think doesn’t belong.”

“No doubt, we’ve all been marked as strangers.” Said Corwin.

“And the vampire will be here soon.”

“Maybe that’s him now.” Said Keiko, looking beyond the crowd towards the baseball diamond where many of the guests had parked their cars. Michael followed her gaze to see an Acura NSX pull in. Even for the affluent neighborhood of South Hills, that car stood out. Two people stepped out, a man and a woman, and made their way towards the party.

With his vampire senses, Michael could tell neither of them was a vampire. But these were as good a candidate for “them” as they were going to find. The man was big and muscular and had all the hallmarks of a bodyguard. The woman was also tall, beautiful, and dressed to show off her assets. Her hair was platinum blonde, but it didn’t look quite right with the rest of her; bottle job, Michael concluded.

“Keep sharp.” Said Michael. “I think the advance guard just arrived.” He then wandered off to another part of the field to mingle there.

Not ten minutes later, Michael found himself face-to-face with the blonde woman. Now that he was up close to her, he could take her in much more fully. Blue eyes, full lips, and a cool sexiness to her. But there was something about her that said she was here for business, not pleasure.

“You don’t look like you’re having fun.” Michael teased, turning on his vampire charm.

She softened somewhat. “I might in a minute. First, you and I need to talk.”

“About what?” asked Michael casually.

“You’re a stranger here.”

“Not really. I used to go to school year…a long time ago.”

“Oh?” That seemed to intrigue her. “Folks tell me you’ve been asking questions. Looking for someone.”

“Yeah, well,” Michael played the part of a nonchalant partygoer to the hilt. “I met this girl at this thing one another time. I was just checking about to see if she was still around.”

“Her name?”

Michael decided not to tip his hand too early. “Well, that’s the thing. I don’t know. We had a nice little tryst over there,” he pointed to the nearby woods, “but after it was over she walked away without telling me that. People were saying that there’d be folks here later that might be able to help me. Maybe that’s you. She’d be about mid-20s, tall like you, brown hair, blue eyes, almost grey.” He paused to gauge the woman’s reaction, and then hastily added. “Got a couple of my friends asking about her too. Helping me out.”

The woman took it all in without a change of expression. Then a sly smile crossed her lips. Michael had the momentary feeling that he was a fly in a spider’s web, but when the spider was as pretty and sexy as the woman before him, he didn’t mind so much.

“I don’t think that girl is still around.” She said. “Forget about her.” The woman closed in on Michael and put her arms around his neck. “You could do better.”

Michael realized immediately that he was being baited. The woman had found a hole in his story somewhere and was now trying to keep him occupied until her master showed up. This could be fun, Michael reasoned, so he played along. “I suppose I could.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere a bit more private?”

“This night is looking up.” Said Michael with a chipper tone. He finished his beer and followed the woman out of the crowd towards the woods. They got about halfway there when she gave him a hard shove from behind.

Michael hit the ground and rolled over, ready to fend off an attack. But the woman sat down on top of him and pulled her shirt off. She immediately leaned over and began to smother his face in kisses. Michael responded by running his hands up and down the sides of her belly, taking in the feel of her skin.

She pulled back and reached behind her to undo her bra. “You startled me there.” Michael said. “I thought someone had jumped me.”

“I did,” The bra came away and the woman reached behind her to grab Michael’s hardening manhood through his pants. “but only to get this.” Michael took in her breasts; they were not too large, nor too small. Nicely average.

Michael reached up to massage her breasts. “You know, I’m starting to think this is going to turn out like last time. A wondrous moment with a stranger whose name I never learn.”

“Miranda,” the woman admitted. “My name is Miranda.”

A vampire is typically pale of skin due to their undead nature, but upon hearing his sister’s name come out of the woman’s mouth, Michael undoubtedly turned even more so. He looked hard at her face. He hadn’t seen her in seven years. Could it be?

It was. It had to be.

“Eat me.” She purred, sliding forward on his chest so that her crotch was now inches from his face. Her black panties did nothing to mask the scent of her arousal and Michael suddenly found himself in a quandary he’d never imagined he’d ever be in. He’d broken many sexual taboos in his time as a vampire, but incest was definitely not one of them.

And yet, Michael didn’t want to stop. He reached up to do as she asked when fate intervened.

“Boss,” she said, “you’ve arrived.”

“And I see you’re enjoying yourself.” Said another voice, a man’s voice.

Miranda stood up. Michael was somewhat thankful that she’d just robbed him of his prize, disturbed at what he was very much so willing to do. “This is one asking questions.”

“Yes, so I’ve heard.”

Michael came to his feet and stared down the new arrival. There was no doubting it; he was face to face with another vampire.

“You are an intruder in my domain.” Growled the vampire.

“And who do I have the pleasure of addressing?”

“I am Bryce Erickson, Prince of Charleston and you are not welcome here.”

“No, I suppose I’m not.” Replied Michael, “but I’m looking for answers and once I have them you can have your city all to yourself again.”

Bryce backhanded Michael. The blow was powerful, clearly the Charleston Prince had used the power of his blood to enhance his strength well beyond human limits. Michael went sprawling.

“You do not get to dictate terms to me, intruder.”

Now Michael was angry. “Oh, bad move on your part, whelp.” He snarled.

“Whelp? You dare insult me?”

“Yes, and more besides.” Michael came to his feet. “You’re nothing. A piss-ant Prince in a backwater hermitage. You don’t have a single clue who I am or what you’ve just unleashed. I am slayer of the Mad Bishop of Lynchburg, of the samurai Hiroshi Takagi. I who drank the heartsblood of the dreaded Djinn of Roanoke. I was Primogen of Hampton.” Michael drew out his tanto dagger. “Who am I? I am Michael Allens of Roanoke.”

There was a squeak of shock and surprise from Miranda as Michael rushed in on Bryce. The Prince made to defend himself, but he was no match for a vampire of Michael’s skill and experience. Michael slipped under Bryce’s defense and drove the dagger up through the Prince’s chin and yanked him a full foot off the ground. He tossed the Prince down field. Bryce’s body turned to ash before he even hit the ground.

“Asshole.” Snarled Michael. He then looked down at the dagger in his hand and realized something. In all the times he’d killed an enemy vampire in combat, he’d never struck a blow like the one he’d just delivered; never once slew another kindred with a single strike quite like that. Momentarily impressed with himself, he slid the dagger back under his jacket and then turned towards Miranda.

She was beside herself with emotion. Michael suspected that most of it was the shock that came when a thrall is suddenly and violently released from a blood bond. All the emotions and thoughts that the bond normally suppressed were said to come rushing out all at once. Still, even with all that, Michael was also quite certain that at least some of his sister’s emotional chaos was due to the fact that she’d just now nearly fucked her own brother without knowing it.

Michael walked over and then knelt down next to her. She was so overwhelmed with her feelings of rage, sorrow, humiliation, and whatever else that it seemed she didn’t even notice him approach. He took her chin in hand and turned her head so she had no choice but to look him in the eye.

“Miranda.” He said her name to force her attention upon him. The emotions behind her eyes calmed somewhat as she took him in. She said nothing.

“So this is where you ended up.” Michael commented. “Some kindred’s…” Michael paused to find the right word. Several of the options that popped through his mind sounded exceedingly harsh and judgmental: plaything, fucktoy, slut, and a few others equally uncomplimentary. Michael could hear his father’s hypocrisy in his own mind and that, more than anything else, disgusted him. “…servant.” He settled on that.

“And this is what happened to you. You became one of them.” She said.

“You didn’t recognize me.” Said Michael.

“You didn’t me either.” That admission seemed to settle the matter of their incestuous near-miss.

“But you did know I was a vampire. You did lure me over here for a reason. You did make yourself bait for a trap. All so your master could come along and kill me. Am I right?” Michael squeezed on her chin with a little extra force for emphasis.  “So what am I to do with you for that, dear sister?”

“You will not touch her.” Said a voice from behind him. A voice he recognized, another he’d not heard in many years.

“Todd Sexton,” said Michael, his eyes never leaving his sister. “Seems I’m in for all sorts of fun reunions tonight.” Michael turned away from Miranda to lock eyes with a Todd different than he remembered. Older, wiser, more grizzled. “You seem not to have learned much from our last encounter, have you?”

“Oh, I have. I know what you are. You’re like that one over there.” Todd motioned towards the pile of dust that had been the Prince of Charleston. “You’re like her. You haven’t aged a day since high school. You’re a monster. No longer human and I will not let you hurt Miranda.”

Michael smiled, admitting to himself that he was actually impressed with his old nemesis. The Todd he remembered was a bully and a coward. That bully was the same Michael had once beat within an inch of his life near Lane Stadium back in Blacksburg many years ago. But the man he saw now was not like that. No, this Todd, fully aware of what Michael was capable of, showed no sign of fear, no evidence of cowardice or bravado. He meant every word he said. Michael stood up.

“You killed my brother.” Todd growled. “You nearly killed me once. But I will not let you touch her again.”

“Then stop me.” Taunted Michael.

Todd rushed forward and threw a punch at Michael. It was clumsy and poorly aimed, evidence of a simple brawler rather than a trained fighter. Michael dodged aside. He deftly dodged the follow-up swing as well. And the one after that.

“Stand still, you son-of-a-bitch.” Snarled Todd. Okay, clearly that hadn’t changed. Todd’s infamous temper was coming out at his frustration at not being able to land a blow.

Michael decided to humor him. “Fine.” He said and he stopped dodging. Todd rained blow after blow down on Michael, none having much effect against Michael’s undead flesh. After a few moments, Michael decided to stop humoring him. He shot a low uppercut into Todd’s belly, knocking the wind out of him and doubling him over. Todd pitched into the dirt.

“If I wanted to kill either of you there is very little you could do to stop me.” Emphasized Michael. He leaned over the stunned Todd. “But there is something that I want from you. Two things, in fact.” Michael grabbed Todd by the collar and pulled him back onto his feet.

“The first.” He said coldly. He willed his vampire charisma to its sovereign level. “You mentioned ‘her.’ Unless I miss my guess, there’s only one other vampire you could be talking about. One other you’d know hasn’t aged since her high school days. Where is she?”

“Kill me and get it over with.” Todd said defiantly. That also impressed Michael. Few could resist the power of vampiric charisma cranked up to 11 like Michael was doing, not even other kindred.

“You’ve seen Rebecca. Tell me where!” Michael demanded.

“I was driving truck.” Said Todd, his will collapsing from the onslaught of Michael’s power. “Had a day to myself in Philadelphia, so I went down to South Street where all the action happens. Saw her in a club called Gothic something or other. That’s where she is. That’s where you’ll find her.”

Michael let him go. “Thank you.” He said sincerely. “And now for the second thing I want of you. You want to protect my sister? Then protect her. The monster who made a slave of her is ash just a few feet from us. Our parents have thrown her out and show no sign of ever retracting that cruelty. And I, as you’ve keenly noted, am a monster out of human nightmare. So she has no one else. If you mean anything of what you’ve said tonight, then you’re all she has.”

Michael turned to Miranda briefly and looked her in the eyes. Then he nodded farewell and headed back to the bonfire crowd to collect his friends.

---

Jason Hayes, sophomore at the University of Pennsylvania, wandered the hallways looking for a suitable room. As a student, he’d heard rumors of the Raven Society, a “secret society” of alumni and other VIPs around the city. He never knew this Society was responsible for “Hell Hotel” and a whole slew of other Halloween festivities around the city. He also never expected to be invited to one of their galas.

But here he was; he and a half dozen others from universities around the city. Here at the invitation of the Society’s secretive master, known only as “Lord Caligula.” The best and the brightest, he was told, is the reason he had been chosen.

It didn’t take Jason long to realize he was in an alien world. The combined incomes of the small handful of society members that he spoke to in the main ballroom could have purchased a third world country, perhaps several. Likewise, his peers seemed to be from moneyed families; they hailed from the wealthiest of neighborhoods throughout the northeast and New England. He felt rather out of place.

But then, “Queen Mary” had gone above and beyond to make him feel welcome. Like all the formal members of the society, she wore a mask to hide her face and like all the supposed Inner Circle, she used a pseudonym instead of her real name. But for all the obfuscation, Jason could tell a few things. Mid-40s, but in excellent shape. C-cup. A head of curly red hair. A black and red dress that fit her curves like a glove. She was the perfect MILF and now it seemed almost a foregone conclusion he would experience all that acronym implied before the night was over.

“Here.” she said. She was right behind him, following him eagerly to find a secluded spot for a quick passionate tryst. Jason turned and looked within. It was a simple, but well furnished, salon. Bookcases, Victorian era furniture that Jason suspected cost as much as his parent’s home. He glanced up and down the hall to see if any had followed them from the grand ballroom. There was no one, so they slipped inside.

Jason glanced at one of the bookcases. The books within were a mix of old and new. Many of the authors he recognized: Burrows, Crowley, LaVey, along with many others he did not know. All, he realized, were connected in some way to the occult, to witchcraft, and to other not-very-mainstream philosophies.

“Interesting set of...” he began to say, turning back to his companion. But he stopped mid-sentence, because Queen Mary had taken advantage of his distraction with the books to slip out of her dress. She now stood before him naked as the day she was born. All exposed, save for the mask.

Jason took her in. She was everything his fantasies imagined and his arousal manifested with an uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Noticing his demeanor, Queen Mary stepped closer.

“You could have lost the mask too.” Jason managed to stutter out as she began to undress him in turn.

“Our rules are there for a reason.” she emphasized. “You don’t know who I really am. But you can guess who I could be. A business owner. A member of city council. A trustee of the university. Or the wife of any of the above. We come here to the Raven Society to discard who we are to the wider world and to do the things society would scandalize us for. Imagine the headline: Prominent citizen accused of affair with college student.” She pulled off Jason’s pants and shoved him gently, now fully nude himself, onto a divan.

Jason figured she’d start slow, perhaps with her mouth, but she crawled on top of him and impaled herself upon him. His head arched back in ecstasy as she took him. “Woah!” he exclaimed. “This is unreal. I can’t believe you’re real.”

“Enjoy it.” she advised as she bobbed up and down upon him. “I know I am, you beautiful boy.”

They went on with their lovemaking for a number of minutes before the door to the salon came open. “Woah!” yelped Jason with surprise.

“Ah, Queen Mary,” said the man who’d barged in. It was Lord Caligula and with him was a young lady, another of the gathered college students. Jason expected an apology next, but instead the masked man said “May we join you?”

“Of course.” agreed Mary before Jason could object. The two newcomers came inside and closed the door behind them.

Jason tried to look past Mary to get a better look at the interlopers. Caligula was as he was when he’d welcomed them all to the party. Tall, dark, with a bass voice, a scraggly beard dangling below his mask. The girl he recognized from the party: a Haverford student who’d introduced herself as Mariah. She was pretty, dark hair, blue eyes.

“Mariah!” Jason called out.

“Jason?” she replied, surprised to see him underneath the nude form of Queen Mary.

“Ah, you’ve met?” said Caligula. “That’s good. Perhaps you’d rather someone your own age got you warmed up for me.” He waved his hand across her face and her eyes changed, gaining a laser focus on Jason and Jason alone.

“Yes, I think I’d like that.” Said Mariah.

Taking that as a cue, Queen Mary slid off of Jason and walked over to Lord Caligula. Mariah pulled off her own dress, knelt down, and took Jason in her mouth.

If Jason thought his luck before was astounding, he could barely imagine the sight before him now. First Mary and now Mariah, both having wild unbridled passionate sex with him. With him! Who was he to have this luck? He was nobody. Just a kid out of Bryn Mawr who landed at UPenn on a scholarship. His family was well-off, but not like these people. He was smart, but not like some of his classmates. He was decently good looking, but no Adonis; he’d had a few girlfriends here and there, but none as willing and eager as these two strangers were tonight.

Behind Mariah, Mary began to undress Caligula. As it was with her, she did not remove his mask. Caligula then went to his knees behind Mariah, lining up to enter her from behind.

Mariah paused but for a moment when Caligula did so. She then returned to Jason.

“Oh, you don’t get all the fun, sweetie.” said Mary, moving back over to Jason and giving Mariah a shove aside. “I want his seed.”

Mary mounted Jason again, facing him. He felt his climax building. Mary looked back at Caligula and gave him a brief nod.

Jason exploded inside her. “Ah, what a wonderful gift.” she said. Jason thought that odd. “And now another gift. A life for our Dark Master.”

Jason had only the briefest moment to wonder what she meant when Mary grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head hard to one side. Mary lunged in and bit down hard. Where there had been ordinary teeth just a moment before, now there were fangs, fangs that pierced into his flesh. Fangs that tore that flesh away. Blood sprayed from the wound.

Mariah screamed, but Caligula wrapped his arms around her tightly and began thrusting all the more vigorously, as if the scene of carnage before them aroused him all the more. Mary drank Jason’s blood in massive gulps. The UPenn student convulsed and then slid lifelessly to the floor.

Mary stood up. “Your turn.” she said to Caligula. Mariah continued screaming.

“One...moment...more...” he grunted as he grew closer to his own climax. He waved his hand again and brought it across Mariah’s throat. The narrowest of cuts appeared, as if he’d drawn a razor across. It blossomed red for the briefest moment and then the blood began to flow freely.

Caligula erupted in sexual climax. “A life for our Dark Master.” he said aloud. He pulled out and let go. Mariah dropped to the floor, her hands grasping at her slit throat, desperately trying to both gasp for air and stop the bleeding. But to no avail. Her body convulsed a few times and then lay still.

The lights in the room dimmed and low grumble could be heard throughout. “He is pleased.” said Caligula.

“You’re so wasteful.” complained Mary, leaning down to lap up some of Mariah’s blood from the floor.

“Our Master demands only the life. The rest he leaves to us.” reminded Caligula. He turned back to the door and opened it. A servant stood outside, as if expecting the very summons he was now receiving. “Ah, good, Demetrius, tell the cooks we have some fresh meat for them. Tomorrow’s banquet should be exquisite.”