Act Two Chapter Nine - The Chemicals Between Us

Mitch pulled his Camaro up to the curb, perhaps a half-block or so from an old rundown hotel in North Philly.

“Are you sure about this?” said Sarah, looking about the neighborhood. Graffiti and trash were everywhere. “This is not the best of neighborhoods.”

“Temple University is not in the best of neighborhoods.” emphasized Mitch. “We’re two blocks from campus.”

“Lovely. You think your car is safe?”

“It looks like a hunk of junk.” Teased Mitch, quoting the Star Wars description of the Millennium Falcon, the same vessel for which he’d named his ratty old Camaro. “Besides, there are two incantations on her. If anyone approaches it with intent to steal, I’ll know and secondly, this car and I are fated to one another. If anyone else tries to drive her, she won’t run.”

“That was clever.” Said Michael.

“Yeah, I thought so too. Problem is, it goes both ways. She’ll only run for me, but if I try to drive another car but her, it won’t work either.” He shrugged. “Still working out the kinks in that spell. But it works for now, better than any car alarm or ‘Club’ device. Come on.”

They walked down the street to the hotel. The place did not get more charming as they got closer. “It looks like it charges by the hour.” Michael growled disparagingly.

“Not quite, but given what I imagine the two of you will do to occupy your time between now and when I can get you something better, wouldn’t that be fitting?”

“You sound almost envious.” Teased Sarah.

“Do you really want to go there?” retorted Mitch, surprised at Sarah’s audacity to tease him about their brief, but destructive, fling. “Making jokes about us and what we did?”

“To laugh at it means it has no power over us.” Said Sarah.

Mitch turned away and said nothing more. Sarah looked at Michael, expecting a sympathetic response, but he would not meet her eyes.

The trio walked inside. Mitch went up immediately to the clerk at the front desk and got their keys. Without another word, they made their way up to the third floor to their room.

“It should be safe.” Said Mitch, breaking the tense silence between them with the business at hand. “You’re entered under a false name and I paid in cash.”

Michael looked around the room. It was appropriately ratty looking, but perfectly functional for their needs. The window, however, was only covered by a stained curtain. “Sunlight will be a problem.”

“Not really.” Said Mitch. He leaned over to his right, through the threshold of the rest room, and flipped on the light. “Bathroom is sealed. No outside light. You’ll have to sleep in the tub, but…”

“It’ll do.” Said Michael. “Thanks.”

“I have an appointment with Thaddeus Zao. Breakfast in Chinatown at 9:00am. After that, I’ll come back and crash here. I’ll enchant the door and stand guard. If I’m asleep, the enchantment will awaken me. With a bit of luck, Zao will help us and we can move to another site tomorrow night.”

Michael read through Mitch’s body language. “You don’t seem optimistic.”

“I’ll do what I can, but Zao is something of a stick in the mud. Even the other mages are rather frustrated with him. You guys may be here a while. No big, in one sense. We’ve got plenty of money to cover the cost. But I’m sure you’d rather find more comfortable accommodations than sleeping in a bathtub.”

“It’ll do. Go and meet with the Hierarch. Even if he doesn’t give us someplace to stay, he’ll still might give us a lead to expose this vampire-Brotherhood alliance.”

“I’ll see what I can find out. You two kids have fun.” Mitch ducked back out the door and left.

“You shouldn’t crack jokes about your affair.” Said Michael coldly.

“So it does have power over us. By choice, we let it.” Retorted Sarah.

“I may have forgiven you for what you did and you may have forgiven me. But I have not forgiven myself just yet for the things I did and neither, I suspect, has Mitch. You are rubbing salt in our wounds. Don’t do that again.”

Sarah seemed indignant, but quickly decided this wasn’t worth fighting over. There was too much other stuff going on that was much more important and much more urgent. Besides, Mitch was right about one thing. What were they going to do with themselves while they waited? Fucking was a lot easier (and a lot more enjoyable) if she and Michael were not fighting over trivialities.

“I’m curious about your thoughts of what you’ll do if you get the evidence you seek. It might make Prince Walsh more determined to destroy you if you can pin a connection to the infernal Brotherhood on him.” She asked.

“Oh, I can guarantee that. Here’s the thing. A Prince like Maximilian or Walsh or even Deborah cannot rule if they alienate the majority of their subjects. Walsh is on thin ice. He’s got Monstrom. He’s got Bellerose. He’s got the Carthians and he’s got us, all of which want him off that throne. Right now, his blood hunt of us appears justified, even if it serves his ends. But evidence comes out that this was a ruse and it was pinned on us, his justification evaporates. He’ll have no choice but to withdraw the order. His primogen will make him. But having humiliated him by revealing him to be so easily fooled, he’ll likely redouble his efforts to destroy us in secret.”

“Just like Max.” Sarah recognized the similarities almost immediately. “That’s not much comfort.”

“Yeah.” Conceded Michael.

“And if we don’t find any evidence?”

“Then we’ll have to consider another option.”

---

Solomon drove Route 30 out of Villanova to the west, with Julia riding on the back of his motorcycle. For two and a half hours, they made their way across Pennsylvania before reaching the city of York.

“One thing about being a nomad.” He said as they pulled into a gas station and began pumping fuel. “You get a collection of safe houses all across the country. In secret, I probably own over 100 different homes. Almost none of them opulent. Thousand square feet or less, but each one no more than 8 hours from its nearest companion.”

“So you drive across country by going from one to another.”

“That’s pretty much how it works.”

“Costs a lot of money to own that many homes. Those mortgages. Those taxes.”

“It does. They’re all owned by a dummy corporation run by my most loyal thralls. All the millions of my mortal estate well invested and the interest then poured into taking care of those properties so I can live my requiem as I see fit.”

“I didn’t know you had thralls. Or a lot of money for that matter.”

“I do hide it well.” The tank reached capacity. “Don’t I?” He headed inside to pay. “Anyway, I have one such place near here. In a small town south of York called Jacobus.”

“And that’s where we’ll be staying.”

“York is an unclaimed hermitage. No Prince. No kindred at all that I know of. There used to be, but they all were destroyed back in the 1960s. Hunters used the race riots to slaughter all of them in one brutal night. Since then, no vampires. There’s a local werewolf pack that roams up and down the Susquehanna River, but they’ve never intruded into town at any point when I’ve been here.”

“So this is about as safe a place as we could be.”

“Pretty much.” Solomon smiled. “We could set up our own little kingdom here. Just the two of us.” He looked at her as he got on the bike. “Of course, you’d not stay away from Michael unless he ordered you to do so.”

Julia hopped on behind him. “Solomon, I can’t help how I feel with the bond and you know that. I’m his and even he doesn’t want it that way. But give him some credit. He did say I was to…how did he put it…’find some measure of happiness’ with someone else. I chose you and he chose you and you didn’t say no when Michael ordered me to go with you. So I’m guessing you’ve chosen me too.”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“You’re not very good at this romance stuff, are you?”

“I told you as much. When I was human, a mortal, I didn’t have to do anything. I waved around my title and my money and women fell all over me. Different times, different circumstances, different society. So I never really learned how to woo someone or to be suave and charming. The Gangrel curse doesn’t help. I’m an animal, a predator. I’m scary. Tends not to be a turn on.”

“It is if you like it rough.” Teased Julia.

“Be careful what you wish for.” Said Solomon as the bike roared to life.

---

Mitch walked into the Chinese restaurant with a sense of curiosity. First off, this was no “You-wing-We-bwing” corner delivery restaurant with gimmicks, slogans, fortune cookies, and all the Americanized dishes that most everyone thought were authentic Chinese cuisine. This was the real deal with the real food. Secondly, he had to admit he didn’t really know what Chinese people ate for breakfast.

The place was mostly empty and unsurprisingly, the first face he saw was that of Zao’s “secretary,” Martin. He also noted the presence of two others and they were a surprise: his new mentor, Balthazaar Murray, and Reginald Skelmsdale, the Temple professor he’d first contacted about meeting the Consilium. Mitch began to get the feeling this was more than a simple meet-and-greet with the Hierarch. This had the trappings of a royal court.

“Take a seat.” Said Martin. “He will summon you when ready.”

Yeah, this definitely had a formality to it that he wasn’t expecting. He took a seat and Martin sat next to him. The other two mages were chatting among themselves and largely ignored the two junior members of their order. Thankfully, Mitch didn’t have to wait long.

Martin suddenly sprang to his feet. “It’s time.” He announced. Mitch reasoned Zao had used some manner of magic to signal his servant, so Mitch came to his feet as well and followed Martin farther into the restaurant.

Thaddeus Zao was seated at a low table that was covered with all sorts of Chinese breakfast foods. He was an older man, perhaps 70, but had aged well. His olive complexion was wrinkled as might be expected for a man of his age, but his hair was still mostly black, only streaked with bits of grey. He wore traditional clothing that Mitch might have presumed was martial arts attire (and perhaps it was.)  Zao did not get up to greet his guest.

Mitch gave a polite bow out of respect and moved to take a seat. Zao scoffed. “I’m Chinese, not Japanese.” He grumbled. “And only half that. No need for bows and curtseys with me, boy.”

“It seemed appropriate to give some manner of salute or mark of respect to my new Hierarch upon meeting him.” Said Mitch undaunted.

Zao picked up a tea cup and drank heartily, not daintily like Mitch might have expected. “You spend too much time around vampires. All their pomp and ritual has no place here among us.”

“And yet I’ve had to jump through hoops like crazy to get to this point in meeting you.”

“More precaution than propriety.” Said Zao. “You could be an assassin.”

Martin took his seat. “About ten years ago,” he explained. “the Brotherhood managed to slip a hired killer in as one of our new novice recruits. He nearly succeeded.”

“Santiago.” Zao hissed out the name. “He’s still their primary assassin. So now there’s a bit of paranoia about our proceedings. I had you wait outside for a time so I could penetrate your mind and determine your intentions.

“That wasn’t easy.” Zao admitted. “You have been around vampires too long. Your mind is very well disciplined. You do not surrender your thoughts easily.”

“Good.” Said Mitch. “I’m glad to know I’m that formidable to those I most associate with.”

“You should be used to paranoia, at least.”

“I’m also accustomed to bold action.” Said Mitch forcefully. “Vampires are like snakes. They lounge about most of the time and do nothing, but when they strike, they do so suddenly and decisively.”

“I believe I hear a critique.” Said Zao, looking at Martin. “Someone has been filling our guest’s head with tales of my timidity.” Martin looked chastened.

“That is the rumor.” Said Mitch, drawing attention back to him.

“I like your honesty and forthrightness. However, I’m curious, Mr. Mitchell, have my judges been as such with you? Have they told you the whole story as to why I choose to hold back my strength even in these times when it seems I hold the advantage?”

“No.”

“I was born in Macao in the year 1805 to a German missionary and his Chinese mistress. Nearly two hundred years ago. I had my awakening as a teen, as do most mages. I eventually left the Orient and came to America, where I took on two apprentices. Two brothers. Their names are Emmanuel and Regulus Noble.

“Regulus in particular was a very gifted student, a fellow Thyrsus. A very quick study when it came to spirit magic. His brother awakened as a Mastigos and it was hard for me to mentor someone outside my path. I had heard talk of a brilliant Mastigos mage here in Philadelphia, so we came here. The three of us together.

“But Regulus’ connection to the spirit world sadly put him in contact with something… something dark and villainous. It slowly corrupted him and then he, in turn, corrupted his brother with the temptation to power that this evil spirit offered. They turned on me, betrayed me, and fled to the Brotherhood.

“Yes, it existed then. For as long as the city has been here, so has the Brotherhood. Like me, the two brothers had unlocked the secrets of extending life. With the benefit of two centuries of life, we have all risen to the heights of power in our respective factions. Regulus now rules the Brotherhood as I lead the Consilium. And for those two hundred years, we have remained at each other’s throats.”

“An old tale. The apprentice rises up to usurp the master.” Noted Mitch.

“Let me ask you something, Mr. Mitchell. Which is better? To strike decisively with all your strength all at once, hoping you destroy your enemy in one fell swoop, or do you nurture your strength and use it to contain and limit evil? I have chosen the latter option. Slowly, but surely, my Consilium is becoming the more powerful of our two factions. Soon, the Brotherhood will not be able to resist us. We will take their territories, seize their universities, take possession of their places of power. And they will not stop us. Regulus and his perverse brother will crumble before us.

“But were I to take the advice of those who think themselves wiser than I, we would rush in with novices and apprentices still woefully unprepared for they will face. I know Regulus. I know what a monster he’s truly become. I know what resources he has at his disposal. And I know that, despite all appearances to the contrary, we are not ready.”

“In the mean time, more die.” Growled Martin. “More disappear. More are sacrificed on their unholy altars.”

“Mind your place, young one.” snapped Zao. “The more impulsively we act, the more likely we will fail. If even one of their number escapes, the demon they serve will rebuild their numbers anew.”

“Would not even a temporary setback of that nature be to our advantage?” Mitch asked, more politely.

“Only if the deaths we sowed would be theirs alone. They won’t be.” Replied Zao grimly.

“Fair enough.” Mitch conceded. It was enlightening to understand Zao’s strategy, even if he didn’t agree with it. “Of course, I’m not just here to meet with you for the first time. I have a matter of some importance to discuss with you.”

“Your vampire friend will find no succor among us.” Said Zao bluntly, obviously somehow informed of what Mitch had come to ask. “That is not our concern.”

“He is in his predicament because of the Brotherhood. Does ‘enemy of my enemy’ carry no weight here?”

“I will not risk antagonizing the vampire prince because your friend chose an impulsive path. He was warned about the Brotherhood I have no doubt and yet he chose to strike anyway. Worse still, he tangled with Emmanuel, Regulus’s own brother. The consequences of that are on his head and no concern of mine.

“However, I am not without gratitude.” Zao softened somewhat. “Having Emmanuel knocked down a peg or two does benefit us and it does help to contain the spread of the Brotherhood’s evil. I cannot provide direct aid, but I can provide knowledge. Something you may not yet know about our city and it is the reason why direct bold action as you propose is so risky. We do not rule here. Nor do the vampires, nor the werewolves, nor the changelings. We control parts and pieces, but not the whole, because this is a human city. And here the humans spawn hunters in numbers and strength you will not see elsewhere. They rule, whether they know it or not.”

“We’re aware of the hunter blight here.” Said Mitch.

“As is everyone else. However, hunters, like all humans, are not united. They are not unified in goal or strategy. They do not talk to one another. Their strength is immense, yes, but also diffused. That is their weakness, a weakness the darker powers of this city have used to their advantage. The Roman Catholic church has a secret cabal of hunters called the Malleus Mallificarum.”

“After the infamous book on witchcraft, no doubt.”

“Yes. The leadership of the vampires models itself after the Roman church. Do you not see a connection?”

“Are you suggesting the hunters and the College vampires have common cause?”

“The Brotherhood’s public face is that of a philanthropic fraternity, a club for the bored and rich. The Ashwood Abbey is a Hellfire Club as of old. In short, a club for the bored and the rich. Do you see the common cause there?” Zao paused as the truth sank in. “You don’t just face the Brotherhood, nor would we simply face the vampires were we to support your friend. We face them and the subverted legions of hunters at their beck and call as well. Your friend is in greater danger than you realize. You’d be wise to warn him of this threat.”

“I will do that.”

“Good. It is not what you wanted, but it some small token of what I can do for one who has thwarted a hated enemy. Now, no more talk of business. Let us eat and enjoy ourselves.” With that, Zao dived into a dumpling.

He kept to his word. There was no more talk of business. Their remaining conversation rested more on personal matters. Who was Mitch’s mentor? Where was he born? How did he awaken? Did he have a girlfriend? Mitch answered the questions without revealing too much about Michael and his other friends, but if Zao sensed any evasion, he said nothing.

Before long, the food was devoured and Zao dismissed both him and Martin together. They headed outside of their private room into the main area of the restaurant.

“Doesn’t seem he’s going to budge.” Observed Mitch. “On much of anything.”

“That’s Master Zao.” Grumbled Martin. “Stubborn and timid.”

“I wouldn’t be too quick to stand in judgment over him.” Interjected Balthazaar Murray. Skelmsdale was gone, but their mentor had remained to wait for them.

“What do you think of his logic?” Mitch asked point blank. “His strategy?”

“I think the Hierarch has many concerns. Success is only one of them. Those who follow him are another. How many will die if we choose this option over that one? And there is, let’s be honest, a personal reason for his decision as well.”

“And what would that be? Some lingering affection for his former student?” Said Mitch.

“Not exactly.” Said Balthazaar. “I imagine you’ve noted the similarities between his story and that of others throughout history and folklore. The upstart disciple versus the wise master.”

“I did, in fact.”

“How often do those stories end well for the master?” asked Balthazaar grimly. “That is, after all, part of those tales as well. The upstart wins and the master dies.”

“So he has convinced himself that when next he faces down Regulus and Emmanuel, he will die.” Scoffed Martin. “This is not some fairy tale. There’s no reason real life need happen like the old stories.”

“No, but fate binds all of us in its own way. Even quantum theory has its speculations that our lives and actions are more predetermined than we’d like to believe, that time and all of reality with it follows but one script. We Acanthus, who master time and fate together, should understand destiny’s burden best of all. What Zao fears is not merely speculation or possibility, but inevitability.”

“And as Master Diviner, you’ve seen this, haven’t you?”

“I have.”

“And Zao knows?”

“He does. So do not judge him too harshly. Would you be so eager to rush headlong to your own death when you knew it was certain? Bravado might compel us to answer ‘yes,’ but when the moment of choice arrives, do any of us truly have the courage of that conviction? Would we really choose differently that he if we knew what he does?”

“No, perhaps not.” Said Martin. “But that doesn’t solve our problem. Zao’s fate notwithstanding, the Brotherhood is not simply going to go away. And the longer we hesitate, the more will die.” With that, he darted out of the restaurant and headed on his way.

“Impulsive and idealistic.” Critiqued Balthazaar. “As we all were at that age.”

Mitch merely shrugged. He had much now to think about. But his mission for Michael had not changed.

“Master Murray, while I have your ear, I was wondering if I could ask you something else.”

“Sure, Mitch, what’s on your mind?”

“This talk of fate and divining the future has me worried. It’s not a secret that I have friends among the vampire community. Those friends have now been declared fugitives by the vampire prince...”

“...and you want me to scry their future so they can anticipate the Prince’s moves?”

“Actually, no. After my conversation with the Hierarch, it seems clear he’d rather we were not that involved in vampire affairs. However, our enemies in the Brotherhood are not so scrupulous. There are rumors, as I’m sure you’ve heard, of certain vampires making common cause with them. There’s some evidence that the events that have brought my friends under condemnation have been engineered by that alliance of forces.”

“Which means you’re worried about whether the Brotherhood can scry out where your friends have gone into hiding.”

“Precisely.”

“Tell me, Mitch, how much scrying have you done yourself?”

“A little. I sometimes try to catch glimpses of past events. I haven’t tried to do much with looking into the future.”

“Future is much harder.” commented Murray. “It’s more fluid, whereas the past is set. Have you ever scryed on someone who is supernatural in nature? A vampire like your friends perhaps?”

“Once. A changeling. I got a nasty vision of the realm of Faerie for my trouble too. Not one I’m fond of remembering.” His body shivered almost reflexively.

“That’s remarkable.” said Murray, genuinely astonished. “Tell me. What were the circumstances of that event?”

“We found this guy wandering the streets, just out of his mind. My friend Michael recognized him and wanted to know what happened to him, so he asked me to look into his past. At the time, we didn’t know he was a changeling, just some messed up guy wandering randomly in traffic.”

“That explains it.” said Murray. He began to explain. “Everything, every component of reality, has a pattern. This chair has a pattern. The gravity that holds it to the floor has a pattern. You and I have patterns. A novice mage can sense and alter patterns in minute and temporary ways, an intermediate mage can alter patterns more permanently, and a master can conjure new patterns out of nothingness. This is boilerplate Magic 101, nothing you haven’t heard before.

“But the patterns of supernatural beings are difficult to pin down. And in order to scry on someone, you need to know their pattern, otherwise your visions will be cloudy or outright inaccurate. Normally, you would not have been able to scry the past events of a changeling’s life, because going into the Faerie realms alters their pattern in a fundamental and mysterious way. But since he was there, you were touching him and seeing him, you had his pattern before you. Had you tried to do that at a distance you would have, without a doubt, failed.

“All supernatural entities have this about them. A vampire’s pattern is altered by his curse. A werewolf’s pattern is altered by his first changing. And a mage, by his awakening. Now, we are mages and we have studied that particular change at some length, so it is easier for us to scry on ourselves. Not so easy to scry on beings where our knowledge of them is somewhat incomplete.”

“Which is why you can sense when a mage awakens so easily.” Concluded Mitch. “And how you can see into the Hierarch’s future.”

Balthazaar nodded. “And also why your friends are probably not in any danger from the Brotherhood sensing their hiding place. You, on the other hand, if you wanted to find your friends could probably pull it off.”

“Really?”

“They’re your friends. On an instinctual level, you know their patterns because you know them. I bet you could scry on your friends right now. Where are they? Can you see them?”

Mitch concentrated, weaving the tendrils of time together with the picture in his mind of Michael. A image began to form, vague, cloudy, as if he were viewing through a thick fog. But he could see Michael naked, curled up sleeping in a bathtub, an indistinct figure held in his arms.

“Yes.” Mitch answered. “I can see him. He’s at his hiding place, sleeping the day away in a windowless bathroom. His lover cradled in his arms, although I can’t make her out as clearly as him.”

“You don’t know her as well. Her pattern is less clear to you.”

Mitch nodded. That made sense. But he also realized a danger. “The Brotherhood could use me to find them.”

“Would you surrender them so easily?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you, Master. This was very helpful.”

“The Hierarch may fear the future and who can blame him? But he cannot escape it forever. I suspect that circumstances are going to force his hand. Whatever is happening with you, with your friends, with the Brotherhood, and with us in the Consilium, it portends a radical change coming. There is a reckoning on the horizon, and I don’t have to divine the future to sense that. Be careful, Mitch. Things are going to get ugly soon enough and with you divided between two worlds, you will be most vulnerable.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks again.”

---

Janice emerged from the brush as the sun was going down. She morphed back into her human form and began to make her way towards the werewolf camp. Boar was leaning against a car at the edge of the camp, as if waiting for her.

“Off chasing your boyfriend again?” he asked.

“You’re acting like my brother.” She replied derisively. After the night Boar had inadvertently brought Paul and Janice together again, the rift and animosity between them had only grown greater. Paul was a constant scold and even Boar found his meddling tiresome. But Janice was no angel either, looking for every opportunity to provoke Paul and test his temper. “Kyle is not my boyfriend. Not yet anyway.”

“Well, you’ve learned his name. I suppose that’s an improvement. Still, do you truly think stalking him in the shadows as a wolf is going to get his attention?” scolded Boar mildly. “I don’t suppose you’ve, I don’t know, tried talking to him?”

Janice blushed and looked away, as if the whole topic embarrassed her.

“Burden of leadership.” Boar lamented. “I get to not just be your Alpha, your chief, but I also get to play Daddy. Unless you plan to jump him and rape him, Janice, you’re going to have to get over this fear of him.”

He walked over and put his hands upon her shoulders, sizing her up. “You know, you shouldn’t be so worried about his reaction. You’re quite an attractive young woman.”

“And that does sound like something my father would say. All formal and dignified.” Growled Janice. She did not want to be talking about this.

“Ok, would it be better if I said you’re fucking hot? And that if it wasn’t forbidden, I’d be boning you myself?”

Janice blushed even harder. “Okay, that’s probably more information than I needed.”

“Is it? This whole pack has got confidence problems. It seems my biggest job as Alpha is to get you all to believe in yourselves. If I have to share a naughty little secret to do it, then so be it. You are beautiful and sexy and I want you to believe that about yourself. Now if I’m curious about what’s underneath all that, don’t you think he might be?”

“If he even knew I existed…”

Boar leaned in. “You need to make yourself known.” He said slowly and authoritatively.

“How? I can’t exactly stop him on his run and say ‘Hey, I’m a homeless werewolf chick that would really like to have your babies.’ I’m sure that’ll work.”

“You know damn well I wasn’t going to propose something like that, so stop looking for excuses. But I do have some ideas that might actually work. Follow me.”

Janice followed dutifully, if not enthusiastically. “You’re probably only going to find some new way to humiliate me.” She grumbled under her breath like a sullen child.

Boar let out his breath with some mild exasperation. Yes, therein was the problem. These were children in so many ways. Banded together because no other pack would have them, they had no real leadership, no real guidance. Like nearly all uratha, they spent their mortal lives in broken homes, a tough life for any kid. He looked back at her as she followed. He guessed Janice’s age at around 19, about the same as himself when he had his first change in Blacksburg. But he was also guessing she’d never dated before. No first kiss and had certainly never lost her virginity to anyone. She’d had no one to teach her anything. Given Paul’s behavior towards her since he’d arrived, he also suspected that there was a deliberate attempt on the part of the Miller men to protect their little “princess.”

Well, their little princess was a werewolf and worse, she was in heat. Werewolves had human minds, but also many of the idiosyncrasies and instincts of wolves. Nearly every fiber of her wolf spirit was demanding that she breed. The human part of Janice wanted what all humans wanted: love, romance, sex, something approaching normal. Navigating all that was not easy.

Boar reached his truck and stopped. He turned to Janice. “Look, I’m going to level with you about two things. One, you’re uratha and you’re a woman. I know, Captain Obvious to the rescue. But there are going to be times, like all canines, when your breeding instincts are going to be nearly overwhelming. You’re in the midst of one of them.”

“I know that.” Janice snapped back sarcastically.

“Well, the human part of you may want all the lovey dovey romance stuff, but the wolf in you is wanting to get laid…badly. The wolf wants to take your college student friend and make lots of babies with him.”

“That’s probably not a good idea.”

“No, it isn’t. I’d lose count of the number of reasons why you becoming a mother right now would really not be smart. But, to the wolf, that’s irrelevant. Still, let’s not mince words. This whole thing is about sex. That’s item #2. We need to get your friend Kyle into your bed…somehow. Now, if you want to try to build something lasting and affectionate with him after all that, be my guest. But right now, I need your mind focused and the only way that’s going to happen is if I get lover-boy’s dick in you as often as we can, so the wolf will leave you alone.”

“My brother’s really not going to be happy to hear all this.”

“Alright, two more things.” Said Boar. “I’m going to guess that your brother is part of the reason this is so damn hard for you. He and your father have kept you cloistered away until a match suitable to their standards was found.”

“Pretty much. And the odds of finding someone who lived up to those standards were about nil.”

“Always is with overprotective fathers and brothers.” Said Boar. “Your Dad ain’t here, but your brother is. Let me deal with him. The other thing is what you said as we walked over. Talking about embarrassment. That’s something you’re going to have to get over because if we’re going to get your friend’s attention, we’ve got to make sure he sees how sexy you really are.” He pulled out a couple of shopping bags. “Natasha and I went shopping. Here’s my thought. Your friend’s a runner. An athlete. He’s probably going to be drawn to someone of like interest. I’d like you to start running the trail as a human in these outfits.”

Janice pulled out several sports bras, a few sweatpants, and jackets. “It’s getting a little cold for this kind of attire.”

“That’s why you’re going to have to play it a little coy, my dear. Cross paths with him on the trail. Let him catch up to you or speed up to catch him. Ask if you can run with him. When the moment’s right, you unzip something. Show a little skin. Give him a little show. Let him see what’s for sale. Then ask him if he’d like to go for a coffee or something.”

“Isn’t the guy supposed to do the asking?

“No guy with any sense is ever going to turn down a pretty girl who asks him out because of that old tradition. Now, go find someplace hidden and try these on. Natasha was guessing about the sizes.”

Janice darted around the car. It was getting quite dark as the sun had now fully set. Paul would be up soon and Boar was hoping they’d get this talk done before he had to deal with Janice’s brother.

Boar’s luck was not with him. Paul emerged from the back of the van where he and Kathleen waited out the sun at the exact same moment Janice walked back over, wearing a sports bra and sweats with a jacket over top. Everything fit, but even the little bit of skin she was showing drew a frown from Paul.

“What’s going on here?” he said as he walked closer. “Why are you wearing that?”

“This is werewolf business.” Said Boar. “Not your concern.”

“That’s my sister.”

“Who was doing just fine without you.” Janice retorted. “I was by myself for a year and now you come barging back into my life like you and Dad own me all over again. I’m not the little girl you two protected from the big scary world. I’m a big scary werewolf now, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Dad’s not here to protect you anymore. I’m all that’s left.”

“I know. You told me that. Old man died of cancer. I’m surprised it wasn’t liver disease, given the way he always hit the bottle.”

Boar intervened. “Enough. Both of you. We had this fight the other night and I’m not interested in seeing it again.” He looked at Paul. “You are being overbearing and overprotective. Janice is right. She is uratha now and hardly needs even a vampire to protect her.” He then turned to Janice. “And you, in your effort to get your brother off your back, are saying things that you’re going to regret. That cut against your father, even if true, was extremely unkind and unwarranted. No family is perfect. Most are pretty fucked up in fact, including the one you have here.”

Both of them looked chastened. “Fair enough.” Said Paul after a long pause. “But what is going on here?”

“Boar’s trying to get me laid.” Said Janice smugly, still trying to provoke him.

To his credit, Paul kept his mouth shut, but his glare at Boar spoke volumes. Boar made no apologies. “She’s an adult woman and a werewolf with a particular biological need right now. As the alpha of this pack, I have to take care of my own and it is forbidden for me to intervene any more directly than what I’m doing. So I am doing what I can to help her score her college jogging friend.”

Paul’s expression did not change. “Honestly, Paul,” Boar continued. “You’d do well to get laid yourself. And while I don’t think any of the uratha women in this pack are quite so curious to give you a whirl, I’m quite certain Kathleen would be more than eager.”

Paul kept scowling, but now he simply walked off without a word.

“That’s his problem, isn’t it? For whatever reason, he can’t have her so he gets all pissy with me.” Said Janice.

“Sounds familiar. You can’t have your boy-toy so you’re all pissy with everybody, including your brother.” He gave her a sidelong glance. “Now do you understand? I need you emotionally stable for the sake of all of us. If that means I have to hold your friend down while you mount him, then so be it. But I think we’d all rather try something a little bit nicer first.”

---

Brother Andre Renauld made his way across the monastery lawn. Vespers had ended and now the monk was returning to his room for prayers and a bit of sleep. As he entered his rather spartan chambers, he noticed immediately a small stack of photographs on his desk.

He glanced over them. It was an odd assortment of characters. A burly looking blond man in leather. A dark long haired man in a three-piece suit. A young girl with purple hair and tattoos. A fair haired woman in a lab coat. As well as several others.

“There are demons among the flock.” Said a hollow echoing voice behind Brother Andre.

Andre turned to see a majestic figure, bright and illuminated. He went to his knee immediately. “Saint Michel!” He exclaimed in his native French.

“Rise, Grand Inquisitor. I desire action more than homage. The Lord has brought you a message. These handful of people are wolves among the sheep. They cloak themselves in human guise, but do not be deceived. The Malleus Mallificarum is called to defend God’s Holy Church and his people from their predations.”

“Another hunt, then?” said Andre, coming back to his feet. “I will alert the others immediately.” He gathered up the photos and darted back out of his room.

The guise of Archangel Michael faded after Andre departed. In his place stood Angelus Stirling, Ventrue vampire of the College, who simply smiled and then cloaked himself in shadows to disappear.

---

Michael’s eyes fluttered awake to the sound of singing. It was Mitch, singing a Queen song to himself, as he was shaving at the bathroom sink. “Are you gonna take me home tonight…”

Michael just stared at him for a moment. But then Sarah likewise stirred awake and climbed out of the bathtub. They were both, as they nearly always were when sleeping the day away, quite naked.

Mitch paused as Sarah stood before him. He gave her an admiring once-over which made Michael frown. “Good. I was hoping you’d awaken before I had to kick you out of the bathtub so I could shower.” Said Mitch matter-of-factly.

“What’s the occasion?” Sarah asked. “Hot date?”

“Is there any other kind?” Mitch teased. He then went back to his singing and his shaving.

Michael stood up and followed Sarah out into the bedroom of their shared hotel room. She pulled out their suitcase and began to get dressed. A tight black tanktop (no bra) and her typical long silk skirt. Michael watched her dress with some amusement. By the time he gathered an outfit for himself and put it on, Mitch emerged from his shower.

“So, do tell.” Michael quizzed his friend. “One of your mage buddies?”

“No, her roommate.” Replied Mitch. “Trisha. You’d both like her.” He looked at Michael. “Nice set of these for you.” He cupped his hands over his chest to imply breasts. He then turned to Sarah. “And a wild hair style for you. Green. You’d like it.”

“Sounds intriguing.” If Michael didn’t know any better, he’d thought Sarah had blushed at Mitch’s observation about her hair.

“Anyway, I’m a little behind schedule. You two crazy kids can manage without me, I presume?” Mitch was now scrambling to get dressed himself.

“Of course.”

“Then I’m off.” He pulled on a jacket and darted out the door.

Michael turned to Sarah. “Of all the changes you’ve made to yourself to look older, I guess I didn’t realize the hair was so important.”

“It was the easiest and probably the most dramatic change of all of them.” Sarah admitted. “A bit of bleach and then a purple dye. Once I willed it to stay permanent, the curse of vampirism took over. It’s never faded and never will.”

“Until you wish to change it. Green perhaps next time?”

“What would you like?” she asked sincerely.

“Red maybe.” That was predictable. The same color as Deborah, Rebecca, and Sammy. Sarah frowned for a moment. She recognized the pattern as well. Michael kept going however. “Maybe hot pink. That’d be wild.”

To that, Sarah smiled. “I hadn’t thought of that. That would be wild.”

Michael walked up next to her and leaned down ever so slightly so he could nuzzle the shaved part of her head. The tiny millimeter-tall hairs that remained there were soft, almost like peach fuzz and not at all like the scratchy hard five-o’clock shadow he and other men often sported. Sarah turned and rubbed her own face in his beard. It was such a simple gesture, affectionate and intimate.

“I hunger.” She whispered.

“Then we should hunt.”

---

Temple’s campus was lively and yet subdued at the same time. Their 1998 football season ended that very day with a not unexpected 38-7 loss to Syracuse. “Good.” Michael mused aloud, although not too loudly. “Serves them right for beating my Hokies earlier this year.”

“Men are all alike.” Teased Sarah. “Even those not so interested in sports will still find their team and become fanatical about their success.”

“I went to Virginia Tech. I studied there. I became kindred there and during my nearly two years of self-imposed exile, I lived there, throwing wild parties for the students every weekend.” He paused. “When you grow up in West Virginia, a state too small to have any professional teams besides an on-again off-again minor league baseball team, you don’t have a home team to root for. Blacksburg was my home for a number of years and while I did not remain mortal long enough to graduate from Virginia Tech, they will always have my loyalty. It’s about belonging and identity.”

“I think it’s just a more civilized expression of a brutal masculine instinct to dominate and overcome. Raw competition distilled into a game over a leather ball.”

“So says the Ventrue kindred, masters of domination.”

Sarah laughed. “Of course, it could also be the cheerleaders.” She teased as one walked past, still in uniform, heading off of campus onto the streets. An attractive African-American girl with a hint of red in her hair. “That seems a commonality between all men too. To score with one of them.”

“Have you found our meal for the evening?”

“You have a better idea?”

Michael shook his head and the two of them started after her. The two of them caught up to her about a half block off-campus.

“Isn’t it a little dangerous to walk the streets by yourself?” asked Michael, trying to strike up a conversation. As if on cue, a group of tough looking neighborhood kids, all black, turned the corner and started towards them.

“You think I can’t take care of myself?” The cheerleader sassed back.

“Well there are dangerous people about.” Michael said as the tough looking youths walked past them without incident.

“Why? Because they’re black?”

“Well, no, but…”

“Look at the two of you trying to play guardian angel to little ole me. My white saviors. You don’t know much about black people, do you?”

Michael considered responding by talking about Boar, but decided against it for two reasons. One, it stunk of the old “I have black friends” canard that so many white people used to excuse their ignorance and bigotry and two, Boar may have grown up in the city but he was so long out of that part of his life that it hardly seemed to matter anymore.

“No, I guess I don’t.” Michael admitted honestly. “I do know a few things though.”

“Like?” For all her sass and subtle hostility, she was still talking to them. His Daeva charisma at work.

“I know we white folk don’t make it easy for you.”

“You’re afraid of us, just like you were afraid of those high schoolers that just walked past us.”

“Afraid? Sure. I also think we’re jealous.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” He then followed up with a brief but detailed list of things he felt black people did better than whites. Athletics, music, art; he even threw in a bit of biology, remembering that evolutionary theory pinned the origins of the human species on the continent of Africa. He wrapped up. “Besides, black women are gorgeous too.”

“You think so?” she smiled when she asked that. Michael had cracked her shell.

Sarah stepped forward “Why don’t you come with us?” Michael felt the subtle pull of her mesmeric power of command in her words. The cheerleader obeyed without hesitation.

“What is you name?” asked Sarah as they walked. She was careful to walk backwards, keeping their eyes locked together so her power could be maintained.

“Evangeline.” The woman said.

“I’m Michael and this my girlfriend Sarah.” Michael interjected.

“Pleased to meet you.” She did not turn, but kept her gaze on Sarah alone. There was a subdued, almost dreamlike, tone to her voice.

She followed them all the way back to their hotel and up to their room. Once inside, Michael cleared the bed, undressed, and laid down upon it. Sarah moved behind Evangeline and released her from her power. “He’s ready for you.”

Evangeline shook free of her trance and Michael picked up the baton and ran with it, cranking his seductive charisma up. “Oh, wow.” Evangeline half-whispered upon seeing him naked on the bed before her. “You are one fine looking man. For a white guy anyway.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“Dis is gonna be fun.” Michael sensed the subtle hint of an accent on her voice that he’d missed before. Jamaican, perhaps?

“Let me help you.” Sarah offered. She reached around Evangeline and rubbed her hands across her belly, in much the same way she had with Eliza after their night on South Street. She slid up and pulled her cheerleading top free. Evangeline’s bra came next and Sarah kneaded her breasts playfully, giving Michael quite the show.

“You keep finding me these gorgeous bottle-red black women.” Michael thought, partly hoping that Sarah was reading his thoughts. “And you keep giving me evidence that you’re a lot more bi-curious than you want to admit.” Sarah did not answer him, all her attention focused on the woman before her. Between Sarah’s attentions and Michael’s powers, Evangeline grew flushed, her arousal now palpable on her face.

She was not the only one. Seeing his beautiful Sarah touch another woman so erotically made Michael as hard as a rock.

Sarah released her and gently pushed her forward onto the bed. Evangeline obliged, climbing atop Michael and taking him inside her. She did not remove her cheer skirt or bloomers, but merely pushed them aside to let him in.

“Enjoy your cheerleader fantasy.” Sarah said via telepathy.

Michael did and when a building orgasm began to rob Evangeline of her reason, he pulled her down to him and bit down on her neck, taking his fill of her blood. As he did so, he glanced behind her to Sarah. Sarah had stripped down herself and was masturbating as she watched them.

“This is too much.” Michael admitted. He released his bite and Evangeline sprang back upright. Their orgasms erupted nearly simultaneously, Michael’s driven as much by the sight of what Sarah was doing to herself as it was by the beautiful cheerleader he was fucking.

Vampires weren’t normally capable of fatigue or feeling tired, but Michael’s eruption was so overpowering that it almost felt like it he’d exhausted himself. Evangeline, as a mortal, was truly spent. She rolled off of him and lay there, doing little more than catching her breath. She was utterly oblivious to the thin trail of blood that had run down her neck and across her chest. Michael usually wasn’t so sloppy a feeder to leave that sort of thing behind, but Sarah had proven too much a distraction for his usual caution.

Sarah moved in like a feral cat, liking the blood off her skin before taking a bite herself. Michael let them be, caught up in his own exhilaration at what he’d just experienced. Yeah, having Sarah in the room with him when he ravished his prey was going to be fun.

Evangeline convulsed next to him and it brought him out of his thoughts. “Sarah!” Michael barked with alarm. He knew what that sort of convulsion meant. They’d taken too much.

Sarah pulled back. There was a cold distant look on her face. “Too late.” She whispered as she watched Evangeline die.

“Sarah.” Michael repeated urgently. She broke her gaze from the dead woman back to Michael.

“I didn’t…”

“You’re usually so careful.”

Sarah began to tremble. She wrapped her arms around her naked form as if to ward off the imagined cold. “I couldn’t…didn’t…” she stuttered, staring at the body. Her eyes found his again. “I’ve never…”

“Really?” Michael uttered incredulously. “You never killed by accident before?”

Sarah shook her head. “Deliberately many times, but never…” Sarah started to cry. “She didn’t deserve this.”

“No, she didn’t.” Michael agreed grimly. “But these things happen. I’ve done it myself more than once unfortunately.”

“So much for ‘They’re just food.’” Michael thought. When push came to shove, Sarah’s imperious cruelty was proven an act. In many ways, there was something very reassuring about that.

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