Act Two Chapter Six - My Own Prison

Sarah moved back into their bedroom that very night. Her clothes, her affects, her make-up and jewelry, and most importantly herself all found its way back to where it belonged. To where she belonged.

But not all was right with the world, at least not immediately. As the clothes came off and she and Michael both made to consummate their renewed dedication to one another, it stopped going quite so smoothly. It was odd. They were out-of-rhythm, out-of-sync with one another. Positions, sexual techniques, various touches, fondling, groping, caressing, all the nuisances of each other that they had learned over their long relationship no longer seemed to work.

It was like they were strangers again.

At first, they both found it kind of cute, like two awkward teenagers losing their virginity together. But after a while, Michael, who in particular prided himself on his mastery of all things sexual, became frustrated. After a few more futile attempts, he thumped onto his back on the mattress.

“I can’t believe this is happening.”

Sarah’s face was soft and sympathetic. “Please don’t get frustrated, Michael…”

“How can I not? I did this to us.” He growled. “I fucked things up so badly between us that I don’t even know how to make love to you anymore.”

“Don’t bring your guilt into our bed. Get rid of it.” She demanded. “I’ve forgiven you. Let it go. Besides that, you’re forgetting something. This isn’t just you. I’m not exactly myself here either. This is hard for me, after having Noble force himself on me two nights ago.”

Michael became mortified that he’d forgotten that in all his frustration. Michael opened his mouth to confess that sin, but Sarah cut him off. “Don’t you dare apologize. I made that choice. I put myself in the line of fire. I knew the risks. Now I bear the consequences.”

Sarah looked at him and gave a weak smile. “If anything, I have you to thank for those consequences not being nearly as bad as they could be. You were in my head, or at least your schizophrenic double, when it was happening. I got so pissed off at you…and at him that my rage immunized me from a lot of it. You got me through it.”

“No, your crazy id-created duplicate of me got you through it.” Michael corrected. “I can’t take credit for that.”

“Would you stop knocking away every olive branch I offer? I’m trying to rebuild our trust here.”

“Trust must be based on truth, not fantasy. Not delusion or hallucination.” Michael said.

She turned that around on him. “Then you need to trust in the truth of my forgiveness.”

“And yet, you’ve imposed all these new rules to keep me in line.”

“They bind me too.”

Michael gave her an incredulous look.

“They do.” She insisted. “You seem to have forgotten what was happening with me back in Tidewater. I came out in public with the punk hair and the piercings and tattoos and the revealing clothing and suddenly there were men interested. Real men, not creepy pedophiles and predators. They didn’t see me as a child. They were talking to me. They were flirting with me. They wanted to fuck me. It was intoxicating.”

Michael had forgotten that. In the tidal wave of events that had brought them all to Philadelphia, those memories had gotten lost in the shuffle.

“I’ve never had that before.” Sarah continued. “Even you, back when we first met and first got together, it took a while for you to desire me. It’s probably a fair statement to say that you loved me before you wanted me.”

Michael nodded. That was truth.

“I could have gotten lost in all that. And I knew if I did, I’d lose you.”

“I actually thought it was all a big turn-on. “ said Michael. “You being with others.”

“You’re missing the point.” Sarah interjected. “This is not about your kink of being cuckholded by others. It’s not about your turn-ons and it isn’t about whether I had your permission to pursue this or not. It’s all about me and my feelings. I’d lose you because I’d stop wanting to be with you. And I knew that was the worst thing that could happen.

“When I saw you with Kathleen, I realized it goes both ways. She’s a far bigger threat than you give her credit and it’s probably why Ernie chose her. She is the precise sort of woman you would fall in love with: sympathetic, lonely, pretty in a somewhat unique way.”

“Like you.”

“Yes!” Sarah remarked sharply. “She is. If you were with her, you’d stop wanting me. You’d do to me what you’ve done to Julia. Only I’m not bound to you like she is. We’d fall apart and my nightmare would come to pass. I’d lose you forever.

“I created those rules, those demands, for both of us, because I realized something. This is a whole new world, a whole new city, and a whole slew of new temptations for the both of us. I’m not the same person I once was and neither are you. And this place will test our resolve in more ways than we can imagine. It could destroy us.” She paused. “It’s already tried.”

“Okay,” Michael began. “I get why you demanded I not be with other kindred. I get why you demanded of yourself to not be with anyone else. But why the restriction on my mortal lovers?”

“That’s all part of this too. We can’t keep pretending things are the same as they once were. Michael, we love one another, and yet for two years you didn’t come for me.”

“You didn’t come for me.” Michael retorted.

“And you know why now. But you had no such excuse. And don’t tell me Max’s edict of banishment is what stopped you. No, your harem full of willing women is what stopped you. You’ve admitted yourself that got lost in all that. The trap I fear for me, you’ve already fallen into once. The rule is to prevent that from happening again.”

Sarah chuckled. “We’re vampires, Michael. Two monsters who dared to fall in love with one another. Mortals do not hold their relationships together very well; most people who remain together do so out of tenacity and stubbornness. They stay because they have to and because they want to. Not because everything works out smoothly all the time. There is no happily-ever-after outside of storybooks. And as hard as it is for them, it’s far harder for us. At any moment, there’s a threat or a temptation that endangers what we have with one another. A moment’s weakness and…”

“Made all the worse by where we are…” Michael added.

“And who we’ve become.” Sarah continued. “It’s a whole new world, Michael. You are not the same person I once met who came to me looking for aid for a changeling friend. And as I’ve made very obvious, I’m no longer the pseudo-child witch trying to hide away from the world. Things are different now. We have to adjust…everything between us to adapt.”

“And therein might be our problem tonight.” Michael speculated. “We’re still acting like the lovers we once were, instead of who we are now.”

Sarah gave him a funny look, not entirely convinced there was a connection. “And what would we do different?”

“I don’t know.” He said. “But maybe there’s something to this whole you’re-a-new-person I’m-a-new-person dynamic that means we should stick to the basics. Nothing kinky. Nothing wild. Just tenderness. Kissing, touching, playing, Being with one another as we are now, rather than who we think we are.”

“I don’t think it will be very easy for you and I to pretend we’re virgins again, even if just to one another.” Sarah laughed. “But I’ll try anything once.”

“Don’t think. Just feel.” He reached over and pulled her into his arms once more.

---

Didi Myers followed Dimitrius into the dark room. Various implements of torture lined the walls, some ancient in origin, others far more modern: flensing knives, saw blades, piano wire, and so forth. Many of them looked well used (and well cared-for), a few with hints of blood and viscera left behind from previous victims.

Didi did not frequent this chamber much. On the top level of the Raven Society’s “Hell Hotel,” as it was known to the public, this room was far away from the popular Halloween “haunted house” on the first few levels and still several floors up further from the Society’s club house where meetings and rituals were held. It was mostly used by the Dark Brotherhood for their magical experiments. Within tonight was Lord Caligula, better known to Didi and the Brotherhood as Regulus Noble.

In the center of the room, a young woman was bound nude atop an elaborate table. Jutting out of the table were three long poles. Didi knew the device; it was one of the more brutal machines of death in this macabre laboratory. Attached to each of those poles was a circular saw. Pushing a pole down would bring a saw up out from under the table to tear into the flesh of whatever unfortunate was tied atop the table.

The victim was likely chosen from among the hundreds who came through the haunted house during these weeks around the Halloween holiday. Probably came with a group, her friends all enchanted to “forget” she was even with them that night. A delicate application of mind magic, of which Regulus was a master. In truth, there were few magics of which Regulus was not a master. Not hard when you were almost 200 years old.

Didi cleared her throat and Regulus took his first notice of her arrival. He looked up from his notes and dismissed Dimitrius with a wave. “I’m sorry. I had hoped to be closer to finishing by the time you arrived. Please excuse me for just a minute or two more.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“A test of mental manipulation. First, I snatch fear from the mind of my victim, making them incapable of terror.” The placid look on the victim’s face confirmed that step in the process had already been accomplished.

“Where’s the fun in that?” asked Didi. “Murder is so much more delightful when you see the horror of what is about to befall them in their eyes.”

“Necessary for this experiment.” Said Regulus formally. “If the rest is successful, that step may perhaps be skipped. The second step is to reverse the way the mind understands pain and pleasure. I’ve reversed them and now to test that part.” He flipped a switch on the table and the saws roared to live.

Regulus reached down and pushed down the leftmost pole. The body of the woman began to twitch as the saw blade began shredding through the delicate flesh of her back. The look on her face was ecstatic, almost orgasmic, as the torture device mauled part of her body.

Regulus lowered the saw, turned off the machine to quiet the room, and then looked at the woman. “So, how was that?”

“Do that again.” Not only was she still conscious, she was panting with almost desperate arousal.

He obliged her, turning the saws back on, and moving the rightmost level this time. Again, the woman’s body twitched and she howled out a cry of sexual release. Now Didi understood the purpose of this experiment. To make the victims so mad with pleasure they’d demand even their own murders. How wonderful!

Regulus again turned off the machine and let the woman come down from her orgasm. “Again?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what the third level will do? The center saw is lined up with your most vital organs. If I use it…” he let the sentence hand.

“Do it.” Without fear, knowing only unfathomable pleasure at ever mutilation, the woman’s reason had long since been replaced by desperate insanity. “Kill me.”

Regulus obliged her, turning on the machine yet again, and working the center level. This time, the woman twitched far more violently. Her mouth opened and a spout of blood vomited out. Her eyes glassed over and she was still. A shadowy darkness and a low rumble seemed to echo throughout the room.

“He is pleased.” Said Regulus. “Another death for the master.”

“Well, that was delightful.” Said Didi with a sadistic smile. “But you didn’t call me here to witness your magical experiments now, did you?”

“No.” Regulus began to unbind the girl from the table. Her backside was raw and bloody from where the three saws had brutalized her. “Tenderized for the feast.” Regulus made a sick joke. Summoned by telepathy, Dimitrius reappeared in the door. Regulus handed the girl over to him.

“Tell me.” Said Regulus, as Dimitrius dragged the woman out. “What steps has Walsh taken in regards to this Michael Allens character?”

“He sent a spy to seduce one of his thralls and then accuse him of rape. He was arrested, but then they fished the spy out of the Schuylkill before the indictment. Suffice to say, that didn’t go very far.

“However, a murdered girl, a scandal at the university, has given the Prince an opportunity to begin manipulating the town council. A new curfew is to be imposed for people under age 21 in Conshohocken and the nearby townships will likely follow. Given the youthful appearance of Allens and his charges, that ought to hinder his movements somewhat. Plus heads will roll at the university soon, at least in part at the Prince’s behest. All that turmoil will make it more difficult for him to take advantage of your brother’s misfortune.”

“Resignations, curfews, legal games.” Growled Regulus in disdain. “Is this the best Prince Walsh can manage?”

“It does provide the perception that things are worse than they are. Fear and anxiety lead to panic and that serves our aims in the long term.”

“There will be plenty of that without this political trickery. I want more direct action against Allens. We cannot allow this attack on the Dark Brotherhood’s sovereignty to go unanswered.”

“You had something in mind?”

“You.” Said Regulus with a smile. “If he’s got anything left of the human he once was, I doubt he’ll be able to resist your unique charms, my dear.”

“I’ll get right on it.”

---

The next evening, Michael called everyone together in his bedroom: Solomon, Julia, Boar, Mitch, Sarah, and Paul. They all stood about his bed as Michael began to speak.

“All right, we’ve got a victory. Time to figure out how to build on it. Also, in parallel, you’ve got me trying to turn over a new leaf with many of you, trying to do better in trusting you as my allies. That said…” He glared over at Paul in particular. “Nothing we say in this room goes beyond these walls. Not to Dylan and not to Kathleen.”

Paul opened his mouth to protest, but Michael cut him off. “Paul, like it or not, Kathleen is still a pawn in Ernie’s game and the last person on Earth we want knowing our next moves is Ernie. In many ways, that’s even worse than if Monroe or Walsh knows what we’re up to. Like you, I sympathize with her plight, but she is not trustworthy. Try not to think of this as punishment or rejection. She’ll be a part of most everything, just in the dark about what it means.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” asked Solomon. “Bringing her in even that much?”

“Yes, and I’ll tell you why. The next step in our strategy is about building relationships. Mitch, Boar, many of you I have jobs for. Tasks I’d like you to embrace with due vigor. Mitch, I’d you to find the mages of the Consilium. Make contact, get to know them, make some friends, date one of them, whatever. Learn whatever you can from them about them, the Dark Brotherhood, and anything else in the city that might be of use. Find out what they want, what their goals are. All that. Anything that might prove interesting or useful.”

Mitch nodded. Michael turned to Boar. “Boar, as you might guess, I’d want you to do the same with the werewolves of the city. Find the tribes, talk to them, make friends, and find out what you can.”

Boar looked at Mitch. “He gets the easier job.” He teased. “We know where the mages are: the university campuses. I’m not sure where to even start looking for my own kind.”

“Dylan said they were scattered but often claim ownership of the city parks. I’d start there, perhaps the northern end of Fairmount Park around Chestnut Hill and Germantown. Further south and you’re in the turf held by the Ashwood Abbey hunters. But try that, do what you can.” Boar nodded.

“Solomon, I’d like you to scout out the next territory I’d like to claim.” Michael pulled out a map of the city. “We are here.” Using a knife, he circled it over the part of the map that covered the suburbs of Conshohocken, Villanova, and Bryn Mawr. “Out next target is a little bit east.” He moved the knife to Bala Cynwyd. “City Line Avenue and this area. This is heavily commercial and also the center of media in the city. Nearly every radio station and TV station has their headquarters in this neighborhood. Gaining control of the city’s media would really shake things up and make people take notice of us.”

“Highly unlikely that neighborhood is not under claim of someone.” Said Solomon in response.

“Of course it is. I’d like you to find out who.”

“Dylan could tell us.” Said Paul.

“And then he’d know what we’re up to next. I’d rather our next move be a little surprise.”

“It’s pretty obvious that would be our next target.” Debated Solomon. “I don’t think that’s going to be much of a surprise.”

“Still, let’s try to make as much of one out of it as we can.”

Michael turned to his companion on the bed. Sarah had dressed herself in one of Michael’s T-shirts (and only that). Her legs and bottom were bare and the shirt was off one shoulder and Michael had done his damndest to keep from staring at her. Now that he addressed her, he couldn’t help it. “Sarah, you spoke of wanting control of the coven at Villanova. It’s yours. Do what you must to gain control.”

“That’ll mean dealing with Damian, since he demanded arbitration over the Villanova hunting ground.” She said.

“That’s part of my point. I don’t want him having complete control without realizing we still have our foot in the door. You’re new at all this political scheming, but you’re plenty charming and asking for the coven on religious grounds will likely seem innocuous enough.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Michael turned to Paul. “Paul, I want you to take Kathleen and get on Dylan’s good side. He’s your sire. Everyone here knows that, but he plays this nice little game of pawning you off on all of us so he can be above the law. But he needs to take responsibility for you.”

“Won’t that risk getting him in some sort of trouble?” Paul asked.

“It might, but I have dual purpose in this. Gain his trust and you can become our spy on him. Now I know you and I have had our battles, but I doubt you have much affection for him given the way he’s treated you. You think you can handle that?”

“I can try.”

“That leaves me.” Said Julia.

“Time to put your training to the test, dear Julia. We just flushed a Dark Brotherhood mage from his comfy little college and exposed him for the monster that he is. At this point all we really know about the Brotherhood is that they’re mages, they’re demon-worshippers, and everyone in the city is afraid of them. Good bet they’re going to find a way to retaliate.”

“I would guess.” Julia was smiling. Michael was not only paying attention to her, but also was showing respect and trust in a way he hadn’t in a long time.

“So, you will be my bodyguard as everyone else is off on their various missions.”

“Thank you.”

“Alright. That’s the plan. There’s no rush to…”

“There’s one more thing.” Said Sarah. “What are your intentions with Rebecca?”

“Who?” asked Paul and Julia, almost simultaneously. Michael looked at Julia first. Had he never mentioned Becca to her before?

“Rebecca Phillips. Many of you here know her. My first childe and now also a resident of this city. We know only a small portion of her place in this city. We know she’s somehow affiliated with Studio Gothic on South Street. We know she’s a Carthian and is a member of the Core coterie. And we also know that the last time we encountered her, she was trying to kill us.”

“Oh, lovely…” said Paul sarcastically.

“Over the past month I have been rushing headlong from one thing to the next, often heedless of the way I’ve been treating many of you. I’ve been an ass, for lack of a more diplomatic way to put it. I’ve wronged, insulted, and offended many of you and I have been over these past few nights endeavoring to make that up. I have also wronged, insulted, and offended Rebecca and that wound has long been festering. It is my hope to right those wrongs as well and to make of her another ally.

“But I’m not planning to play that trump card for a while yet. I want to feel more comfortable here, be more established as a power broker in this city, before I make any move towards winning Rebecca. Let’s be frank. She probably hates my guts and making her an ally will be a whole lot easier if there’s more in it for her than just my winning personality.”

Michael looked at Sarah. “That’s my plan with her. She’s on the back-burner for the time being.”

“Alright. We have jobs to do.” Said Boar, as if dismissing the group.

“Thanks.” Said Michael as they shuffled out one by one.

“I called you out over Rebecca to make sure there are witnesses to whatever your plans are with her.” Said Sarah. There was a coldness in her voice.

“I spoke the truth, Sarah. Right now, she’s not my concern and nor should she be yours. Besides, I have to figure out a way to woo her that doesn’t involve sticking my dick in her.” He looked at her. “Yes, that was the plan originally. Find a way to seduce her but if I try that now, I lose you. So, we go back to the drawing board…”

“Good that you understand that.” Said Sarah firmly. She then changed the subject, her imperious tone fading. “Well, I have a Tremere to go talk to.”

She stood up to get dressed. As she did so, Michael got a good teasing look at her nethers and bare bottom. He was instantly hard again. Michael smiled. He’s seen Sarah naked a thousand times and thought he had come to take the sight for granted. But her half-naked in one of his t-shirts, with all the emotional turmoil they had gone through over the past days, he suddenly found her irresistible all over again.

As she walked past him, he snatched her up by the arm, a move almost violent in its swiftness. Sarah was startled, but only for a moment. As he pulled her to him and entered her, she began to smile. A deeply satisfied smile and Michael came to realize something about the woman that he had loved for well over five years of his life: She really was very much like him. The thing she wanted most in the world was to be loved and desired.

“No wonder…” he thought to himself as he began to make love in earnest. “No wonder…”

---

After their sexual encore, Michael and Sarah spent the rest of the night apart as Sarah went to meet with Damian. The next night was much the same as she continued her efforts to gain the trust of the Villanova coven. She met with the student leaders, the same group of “true believers” she hung out with on Samhain. She slowly began the process of convincing them that she would be a far better priestess than the pedophile monster Noble had been a priest.

Sarah soon learned Noble hadn’t kept his predations limited to just children. As the truth came out in the media, people began to remember. Old enchantments that had erased memories of rape began to fray apart as unbelief and the undeniable evidence of who Noble was began to spread. Many of the young witches in the coven had been among his victims, including Lynne Hawkins, the lesbian witch Sarah had begun to rely upon as the spokesperson for the coven.

Discovering more of Noble’s villainy only made Sarah angrier. She hated Noble all the more now.

But not so much that she lost sight of why she was there. There was also the monster that she was, and her kindred need to control and coerce these people for her own ends. In that regard, Noble had done her a favor. He’d assembled a Wicca coven made up of pliable wills: the gullible and the desperate, people who’d do just about anything for someone who’d give them a sense of spirituality and purpose. As Noble had before his con had been exposed. Now Sarah would replace his con with her own.

She consoled her conscience by acknowledging a simple truth. No matter how she might use these people, she’d never be as bad as Emmanuel Noble had been. As she dripped the blood from her bitten finger into Lynne’s Coke can when she wasn’t looking, giving her the first taste on the way to a thrall-bond, Sarah knew these people were in far better hands now.

By Friday night (November 6^th by the calendar), Sarah decided she’d done enough work on possessing the Villanova coven and decided to spent the evening with Michael. Michael had spent most of those nights doing little more than waiting around for his friends and allies to do their tasks. He killed time by reading, watching movies, and playing video games. He hadn’t dared try to hunt (due to the new “rules”) and had treated Julia with his typical benign neglect. Thus by the time Friday rolled around, he was bored and desperate for something to do with himself.

As Sarah and Michael headed out for a night on the town, she laughed at him. “You’re funny sometimes, Michael. You get to play general while all your good little soldiers run off to do your bidding, all the while keeping you out of the line of fire. What do you think happens when you reach the heights of power to which you aspire?”

“I spent so much time being a soldier that I didn’t realize this is what happens.” He mused. “It’s not really what’s bothering me. I’m not really bored so much as lonely.”

“You had me every night before dawn.”

“A quick fuck before the daysleep takes us is not quite the medicine I need. You and I have come back from the brink. I feel like we need more ‘us time’ or something. God, I sound positively domesticated, don’t I?”

She laughed again. “Wait until we’ve been together for 50 years. Or a hundred.”

“You’re really going to put up with me that long?” Michael asked, half-teasing and half-serious.

“Oh, yes.” She replied honestly. “Even a thousand years, if we’re granted that long.” Michael smiled.

“Tonight is a first.” He said after a brief pause. “In more ways than one. You have never tagged along with me on a hunt before. I’ve joined you for your hunts, but never the other way around.

“And then there’s the other thing. I almost wish I didn’t have to hunt tonight. I’ve gone several days without real blood and I know the Beast must be satisfied, but I’d much rather have a nice dinner, an edifying conversation about the meaning of love and life, and then fiery passionate love-making back home. All with you and only you.

“You’re funny.” She repeated. “The great womanizer, the great Cassanova, that you are and you’d rather spend the evening in monogamous bliss.” She paused and gave him a funny look. “Yeah, you do sound a little too domesticated.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” She offered. She pulled her long skirt up to her waist and pulled her panties down and took them off. “You do your unfortunate victim, but you finish inside me. And then we feast.”

“We could kill her if we both feed. Remember, I’m four days without blood. I’m hungry and the temptation to overfeed…”

“They’re food, Michael.” Said Sarah coldly.

“You were among those who once warned me about becoming too callous.” Michael retorted.

“Callous might be what will keep us alive here.” Warned Sarah.

“You may not be the quiet introspective Sarah of the past anymore, but this part of the new you is not to my liking. Noble really got under your skin, didn’t he?”

Sarah’s eyes flashed with anger but Michael stood his ground. “Don’t take your hunger for revenge out on some hapless mortal. What he did to you was nightmarish, I’ve no doubt. But hate feeds the Beast and so does murder.”

“So says the kindred who murdered a girl to free his friend from a jail cell.”

“Is that the argument you want to have? Whether killing for food or killing for personal gain is more moral? Less damaging to our souls? Let’s try this on for size instead. Let’s not kill anybody tonight. Let’s not take chances.”

“Then that means two victims.”

“So be it. One for you and one for me.” Michael paused as he pulled the car over in the first vacant parallel parking spot he spotted. “Of course, there’s also the fact that we’re hunting well outside our permitted territory.”

“Center City is neutral ground. As long as we steer clear of the Galleria and Walnut Street Theatre, we should be fine.”

The former was changeling turf. The latter was home to Erik Bellerose and also barely a block away from where Michael had found his parking space. City Tavern, their destination, was several blocks further down still. He got out and came around the car. With a gentleman’s propriety, he opened the car door for Sarah.

“How gallant.” She teased.

“Let’s put some distance between us and the theatre.” Said Michael cautiously. “We’re a little too close for comfort.”

“After dinner,” Sarah offered, trying to distract the suddenly anxious Michael. “South Street?”

“It’s five blocks east to the Tavern from here roughly. South Street is another five or six further south. That’s a lot of walking.”

“We’re vampires. We don’t get tired. Hell, if anything…” she spread her arms out as if to take in the whole city at once. “…the city is invigorating to us.”

Michael had to agree. There was something electrifying about being in a place as big as Philadelphia. Five times the size of all the cities of Tidewater combined. And now, just around the bend from one of Philly’s most famous landmarks (Independence Hall), he could feel that energy. It was invigorating, even intoxicating.

But Michael was not about to lose his wits in the romance of the moment. “South Street means Studio Gothic. And her.”

Sarah’s arms flopped to her sides in a frustrated gesture. “Would you get over yourself? There are dozens of nightclubs and bars down there. We don’t need to go to the very one we know your ex-girlfriend frequents. This is our first real date in God knows how long. Certainly our first in our new home. Would you stop trying to not have fun? Go with the moment. Enjoy yourself, goddamnit.”

“Callous might be what will keep us alive here.” Michael remembered in his mind. A few minutes ago, it had been Michael as the jovial eager-to-get-out-and-about one and Sarah as the grim-even-macabre realist. Now they’d switched places. What a pas de deux they made.

---

Dinner had been fabulous, although Michael had admit a bit of envy. City Tavern was one of Philadelphia’s oldest eateries, but it was just around the bend from the more famous Bookbinder’s. Michael had tried to get a table there, but no reservations were available tonight. With rumors of that business in trouble, Michael hoped he’d manage to score a table before things went south on the classic Philadelphia restaurant.

After their meal, the couple made their way down 3^rd Street towards the lively nightclubs of South Street. Having visited the city many times in his youth, Michael had always heard of South Street, but had never been there. Nightclubs weren’t exactly the ideal destination for a twelve-year old (or younger) boy.

There was something exciting, even adventurous, about heading into that part of town for the first time. He knew nothing of the night life here. Knew nothing of which clubs had the best dancing and the best music, of which ones watered down their drinks too much. And of course, he knew nothing about which clubs were best for kindred to score some blood.

But that sense of adventure faded as Michael and Sarah came to the intersection of 3^rd and South. There, on the northeast corner was an old church building, or at least the facsimile of one. Through its stained glass windows, they could see the pulsing lights and hear the deep bass of a song Michael recognized as one of The Cure’s. That seemed perfect, until he realized that was, in fact, Studio Gothic.

“Damn.” He muttered. “I even like that song.”

“There will be others. Let’s keep walking.”

They settled on a quieter venue a few blocks down. A small more intimate club with a live band and a dozen different beer taps behind the bar. This was a more “I want to meet someone to spend the night with” kind of place that the livelier dance clubs (although Michael had never struggled to find someone at Nightstyles or any similar venue.)

Michael ordered a beer, some variety that he’d never heard of and struggled to pronounce, and then headed to an empty table. Sarah hung back, keeping her distance. It wouldn’t take long; Michael had cranked his vampiric charisma up to 11 and was already drawing looks from some of the more eager women around the club.

Then she walked in.

Every head that had been looking at Michael immediately turned and locked on to her. That was odd. She was not a magnificent beauty or anything, just a very confident self-assured woman. Her dress was black and skin-tight. Her curly red hair fell down around her shoulders nicely. She was older than most in the club, perhaps late 30s or even 40. And there was something familiar about her. Then it hit him.

She was at the Art Museum; One of the College kindred.

Michael let out his breath in annoyance. It was just their luck to encounter a fellow vampire on the hunt in the exact same part of town. Then Sarah entered his mind. “She’s been following us since City Tavern. It’s no coincidence she’s here.”

That put Michael more on guard. She headed over to the bar and ordered herself a drink, fending off the advances of least two eager men as she did so. Sarah’s eyes never left her and her thoughts remained in Michael’s head. “She does what you do. Crank that charisma up with the power of her blood and make herself irresistible.”

“She’s not pretty enough to be Daeva.” Michael observed, responding in his mind.

“Probably isn’t. She just learned the power the same way as anyone else who wasn’t born into your clan. Practice, refinement. Either that or diablerie.”

Diablerie. Soul-drinking, when one vampire drains another down to his or her very essence. Michael shivered at the word, less from disgust and more from guilty remembrance. That was how Michael had come to gain much of his own strength. He’d done it twice: each time with his most vicious enemies, the Mad Bishop and The Djinn. Sarah knew that about him and had never held that most vicious of kindred crimes against him. One more reason to keep her around.

“Diablerie.” Sarah repeated, this time as confirmation. “I can see its stain on her soul. Same marks as you bear. Watch out for this one. She’s at least as ambitious as you, and probably far less scrupulous. Somehow I doubt her victim or victims were as deserving of that fate as yours were.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” The newcomer had now turned and was making her way directly towards Michael.

“Hello, Michael. Fancy meeting you here so far from your assigned territory.” She purred coyly.

“South Street is neutral ground. No one rules this part of the city.”

“And yet the Prince did not give you permission to hunt in neutral territory.”

So blackmail was to be the game tonight. Michael could argue the point or he could feign that he was not actually hunting, just out for a good time. But he would play her game…for now.

“Is that why you followed me here? To enforce the rules?”

“You and your little girlfriend make quite a pair.” Said the woman somewhat impressed. “She has sight beyond sight. I should have been invisible to all observers.”

“Same trick as The Spy and The Brute. Not ugly enough to be Nos. She’s Mekhet, probably one of Walsh and Monroe’s own brood.” Michael concluded.

“You may as well call her over here.” The woman continued. “I can see her skulking about in the corner trying to pretend that the two of you aren’t together. No doubt for the benefit of any potential meals.”

Michael ignored that demand and offered one of his own. “What do you want?”

“What I want? You should be more interested in what I can offer you. After all, if word of your transgression were to meet Elias’s ears…”

“…which will happen if I don’t do as you ask.” Her familiarity with the Prince confirmed Michael’s suspicions about her lineage.

“I have been known to share a secret or two when it suits me.” She replied coyly. “Of course, that can go both ways.”

“I still haven’t heard a price for either your silence or your sharing.”

“You want my silence regarding your sins? That’ll cost you your black friend. I trust he’s as well endowed as his race’s reputation claims. One night. Of course, I don’t promise I’ll return him in one piece, but that’s the price for keeping the Prince off your back.”

Michael suppressed a laugh. The idea of this woman being with Boar was ridiculous enough, but her trying to kill him was absurd. She clearly didn’t know he was a werewolf. Her ignorance was making this too easy.

“Sharing my secrets? The price for that is you. Your pretty little friend can watch, but I get you all to myself.”

“You have an exceedingly overinflated sense of yourself.” Said Michael.

“You’re not in a position to make an enemy here tonight, Michael.”

Michael could no longer suppress his mirth at this farce. “You’re pathetic.” He laughed. “First off, you’re not even remotely sexy to me. You can fool these mortals with your parlor tricks just as well as I can, but that doesn’t make up for the sagging tits and your ugly mug. If I’m going to bang a fellow kindred, she’d better be drop dead gorgeous or at least have a charming personality. You come in here with all the grace of a freight train. Dear God, is this truly my reputation? That I’ll fuck anything? And speaking of gorgeous and charming, I’ve got both over there.” He pointed over to where Sarah was sitting, watching them. “You don’t even come close.”

“You’re treading on dangerous ground. I could offer you everything. I could offer you the Prince’s haven. I know where he sleeps.”

That was desperation talking and Michael knew it. There was no way that was a sincere offer. Even if this woman did have that information, there was no way she’d surrender it for a mere night in bed with him.

Michael shook his head. Her whole spiel was predicated on two false assumptions, two grave errors in judgment. The first was that he really was a total man-slut, willing to sleep with anything with two legs and a pussy. That was probably not as inaccurate an impression as he would have liked it to be, but she still wasn’t nearly attractive enough to get his attention without her powers. Beyond that, there was still his come-to-Jesus moment with Sarah a few nights earlier. Being with another kindred, as Sarah had demanded, was now out of the question under any circumstance.

The second error was believing that he was a complete and utter novice, too naïve and impulsive to see the trap she was laying. She really should have known better. After all, along with his reputation for sexual hedonism was a long laundry list of political accomplishments, many of which she heard spoken aloud at the Art Museum gathering. No, like many others, she’d chalked it up to luck and Ernie’s patronage and nothing more. She was utterly ignorant, perhaps willfully so, of just how savvy he really was.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He said, half laughing. “I’ll buy your silence. You go find Boar…that’s his name, by the way…and he’s all yours. Do whatever you want to him. Fuck him. Drain him dry. Have your fun. Go right ahead.”

Now it was the woman’s turn to be on her guard. She sensed the trap he was now laying for her. Michael then blew her off. “Go on. I’ve bought your silence. Find somewhere else to be.”

The woman turned and left. Michael frowned and went to get another beer. That pathetic seduction attempt had further soured Michael’s mood. He was already far more eager to spend time with Sarah than to waste time looking for some weak-willed slut to feast upon. Having one of his enemy’s minions act the part of that slut only hardened his resolve in this matter. He was about to insist that he and Sarah return home for the rest of their evening when Sarah walked over…with her.

“Her” was a young woman named Eliza, a petite buxom black woman with a striking head of bottle-dyed red hair. She was gorgeous, but there was something off about her eyes.

“I don’t have your sexual charm.” Sarah explained telepathically. “But I do have the Ventrue method of persuasion at my disposal.” Mesmerism. Domination of the will. Sarah was always full of surprises. Her comments weeks earlier about how powerful she’d become were proving truer all the time.

“She’s wonderful. Near perfect.” Michael had to admit.

“Of course. You have a type, Michael. Red hair. Short. Big boobs. Curvy. Pale skin. Don’t think I hadn’t noticed what you go after most often.”

“Just like Deborah.” Michael pointed out.

“Your first. She always stick in your mind. Well, I couldn’t manage pale tonight, but I got everything else. She’s all ours.”

Sarah released Eliza from her powers and the hypnotic stare in her eyes vanished. She looked confused at first.

“I’m sorry. I must have…” she stuttered.

“This is my friend, Michael.” Explained Sarah. “He’s very interested to meet you.”

---

A brief conversation, a nice application of the Daeva powers of charm, and a few bucks for a cheap hotel room a few blocks down. The stage was set and soon Michael found himself on  a bed underneath a naked Eliza as she screamed out yet another orgasm.

Michael had seduced all kinds over his years as a vampire, from the timid to the aggressive. From women who faked every climax to those so sensitive a smoldering glance could make them cum. Eliza was the latter. The whole of South Street probably heard her shrieks of pleasure through the walls.

There was an unexpected upside to each of her mind-blowing orgasms. She nearly blacked out after each one, making it easy for Michael to sneak in a bite without her knowing. He took his fill of her blood and she got weaker and weaker, but never noticed as their love making exhausted her further.

She slumped after yet another, barely conscious yet still upright atop him. Sarah, who’d been quietly watching in the corner, now stepped forward. She was flushed and aroused.

“I think I understand now what you mean about watching the one you love with someone else.” She half-panted. She moved up behind Eliza and ran her hands across the skin of her belly and then up to her breasts. With a playful caress, she then moved to Eliza’s neck, baring her fangs.

“Careful.” Michael cautioned. “I’ve had quite a bit.”

“I will be.” Sarah bit down and took only a small taste before coming back up. “She’s yummy.”

“And you are not so bi incurious as you let on.”

“Maybe if I find the right person.” She conceded. She gave Eliza a gentle push. Eliza slid off Michael and onto the bed. “My turn.” Said Sarah, hiking up her skirt to mount him.


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