Act Two Chapter Thirteen - Home

Michael drove back to the ratty hotel in his Falcon, with Rebecca close on his heels in her own Corvette, a fine looking ride that Michael guessed was maybe a year old at most.

Michael was about two blocks or so short of the hotel when something caught his eye in a alleyway. He hit the brakes quickly and turned. It looked like a young girl being mugged. He was right. There were perhaps a half-dozen thugs dragging a limp figure behind a nearby dumpster.

Rebecca’s Vette missed the turn, but Michael figured she’d find her way back. He disembarked, mildly worried that the victim was Sarah somehow. He hadn’t gotten a good look at her. He figured two things. One, if it was her, she’d be alright; the fists of a bunch of mortals would do little damage to her vampire body. Still, he’d rather not leave her to their mercies. Two, if it wasn’t her, it was still someone in need of help and Michael was still feeling a bit gallant.

“This ain’t any of your business.” Growled the lead thug.

“And if I make it so?” Michael retorted. He had his katana in hand, but had not drawn it.

“I’ll fuck you up like I did her.” The thug drew a gun and pointed it sidelong street-style at him.

Michael became a blur of motion as he drew his blade and slashed. The thug’s hand came free from his arm, taking the pistol with it. He didn’t get much time to realize Michael had sliced his hand clean off, because the next slash removed his head from his shoulders.

“Anyone else?” Michael said as the body slumped to the ground. Michael figured they would either run in terror or open fire; typical fight or flight response. They ran.

As the last one tore past the dumpster in fear, the tiny form of their victim suddenly leaped onto his back. She was wearing a halter top that left her back exposed to the open air, somewhat odd attire for the last week of November. Her skin was pale and marked by several tattoos, a skeletal hand holding a rose across her spine. Below that was a raven. It was Sarah after all and she’d gotten some new ink since he’d left her.

Sarah sank her fangs into the thug’s throat and drank heartily, draining him dry and leaving him twitching out his last moments out next to his decapitated friend. She turned around and faced Michael. A look of madness glinted in her eyes.

“Sarah?” Michael asked. It was clear the voices had her again. Would she come back to him now that he was there?

“Just out for some fun.” She admitted. “I was about to have a feast.” There was a giddiness in her voice that worried Michael. Was she really planning to kill the lot of them? “Oh…” Her voice trailed for a moment. “They thought they had me. Thought I was some poor innocent little white girl, half naked in the dark. Easy target for rape and robbery. But I know better.”

He’d been away too long. Damn Ernie and his tainted blood and damn his own folly at letting Rebecca distract him so. She was lost in her insanity. He stepped forward, his voice more urgent “Sarah!” He thought about hitting her again, thinking that might snap her out of it.

“Michael?” she asked. Her eyes focused on him. She blinked a few times, as if unbelieving what was before her. “That’s really you.”

“Yeah. It’s me. You okay?”

She looked around her feet and saw the two dead muggers. “I did it again, didn’t I?”

“Well, the one was my doing. The one without a head.” Michael admitted. He cleaned the blade of his katana and slid it back into its scabbard. “The other…”

“Oh,” she said, looking down at the body of the second. “No wonder they like to lock schizos up. We can kill and not even know it.”

“Not every person who suffers from schizophrenia is a vampire, my dear.” Michael reminded her.

“But I am and when I lose control, people die.” She lamented. Rebecca’s Corvette turned into the alley behind them.

“I wasn’t here. I wasn’t here to help you keep control. I’m sorry. His death is as much my fault as anyone. But don’t judge yourself too harshly. These thugs were determined to rape and rob a young girl in an alleyway. Not exactly the finest examples of the human race to be had.”

Rebecca got out of her car. “This is a mess.” She commented dryly.

“Yeah, well, I trusted my instincts and stumbled onto a small altercation between my Sarah and a group of gangbangers.”

“Pun intended, I’m sure.” Said Rebecca. “Are you alright, Sarah?”

Sarah looked at Rebecca oddly, as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of being asked about her well-being by an obvious rival. “I would have been fine.” She answered coldly. “And if I hadn’t, Michael showed up.”

Rebecca took her cold tone in stride. “Good.” She replied. “I’m Rebecca. But you probably already guessed that.”

Michael felt Sarah in his mind. “What the hell are you thinking, bringing her with you? Bad enough you fucked her all week long. But to bring her along as if we’re going to be best of buddies! You know how I feel about her.”

“You asked me to trust you. I’m now asking you to trust me.”

“You’re up to something. You’re scheming. Why should I?”

“I am scheming, but it’s a scheme for your benefit. Damnit, Sarah, what the hell am I supposed to do? I love her and you knew that when you sent me to her. But I love you too and I want there to be harmony between all of us. There is a way, but you must trust me.”

Rebecca stood by silently. “Telepathy.” She noted aloud, guessing at what was transpiring between them. “How convenient.”

“I can be in your head too, bitch, if you’d like.” Sarah screamed into Rebecca’s mind. Rebecca flinched from the pain of the intrusion.

“Enough!” Michael barked. “Sarah, let her go. And Rebecca, can we back burner the smart ass commentary for a bit?”

“I’m sorry.” Rebecca apologized aloud and Sarah withdrew her mental assault. “I’m just a little on edge meeting you for the first time.”

“Why would I care?” growled Sarah, showing no sign of lessening her hostility towards Rebecca.

“Because I do.” Michael interjected forcefully. Sarah’s look went from anger to fear before she settled on neutral to avoid looking frightened in front of Rebecca.

“May I suggest a better venue for this conversation than a dark alley with two dead humans lying on the ground?” Rebecca piped up. “I presume you have a temporary haven nearby?”

“We do. Come, Sarah, Rebecca’s right. This isn’t the place to have this talk.”

---

Sarah walked into their hotel room first, with Michael behind, and then Rebecca taking up the rear. As they got inside, Michael came up behind Sarah and put his hands on the bare skin of her arms. He held her at arms length, inspecting the new tattoo on her back.

“You kept yourself busy.”

“You suggested this. Or at least the you that lives in my head.”

“That other me has good taste. I like it.”

“A dead rose in a dead hand for a dead love.” She said sadly. “And now you bring her here to boast of it.” Her words were full of pain.

“You said…”

“I know what I said. And I stand by it. Better this than dead. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

“I’m not taking him from you.” Rebecca insisted. “I know how he feels. I know how important you are.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sarah turned and faced Rebecca. “Fine, instead of stealing him outright, you’ll ask me to share him instead. It amounts to the same thing. How long before he’ll choose you every night? Leave me dangling like he does Julia?”

Rebecca didn’t get the reference. Michael explained quickly. “The blonde girl at my side in the Art Museum. One of two other childer I’ve turned since you.”

“Bound to him and adores him.” Added Sarah. “Artificially perhaps, but that’s irrelevant. That’s my fate with what you propose. It’s just a matter of time.”

“She’s as dumb as you.” Said Rebecca.

“I heard that.” Sarah’s expression turned angry again. But Michael got the reference and understood what Rebecca was trying to say.

“Ignore the insult for the moment,” Michael said to Sarah, “and answer me a question. Why do think I’d eventually choose her over you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” lamented Sarah incredulously. “Look at her. Everything you ever wanted. She’s beautiful beyond words. Red hair, perfect figure, bright blue eyes, exquisite skin, and the body of a woman instead of a girl. I can’t compete with that by itself, let alone all that and the history between you. Michael, you’ve loved her since you were a child. I don’t stand a chance.” Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. “It’s like Michelle all over again. Snatching away what I want most.”

“I said no to her.” Said Michael. “For you.” Another character from their past Michael had not given thought for ages, Michelle La Croix was a primogen in Tidewater who once made a game out of stealing men out from under Sarah. Michael had never asked Sarah how many others like him had she lost to Michelle before he came along. That seemed relevant now, fueling Sarah’s fears of Rebecca (whose resemblance to Michelle was not entirely superficial.)

“But not to Rebecca.” Sarah answered bitterly. “You said yes without hesitation.”

“Actually…” Michael began.

Rebecca interrupted him. ““You don’t understand, Sarah. You’re letting your fears blind you to the truth.”

“Don’t speak to me.” Sarah growled.

“She’s right.” Michael emphasized. “You aren’t thinking clearly. I’m not rejecting you, Sarah. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“You can’t have her if you want that. I told you that flat out weeks ago.” Said Sarah fiercely. “There’s no room for both of us.”

“But there is.” Said Michael. “And suppose I do what you ask. Does that really change anything inside? You knew all along. You knew I loved her and you guessed rightly that she still loved me. You wouldn’t have gambled with my life if you hadn’t. None of that changes if I walk away from her and you know that too.”

“Then why are we wasting time? I’ve lost you already. Go!”

“I won’t. I can’t. I love both of you and I won’t surrender either of you.”

“There is another way.” Said Rebecca. “Not losing, but gaining.” She stepped forward. “Not a tug of war with us battling for supremacy with Michael as the prize, but a triangle, a trinity as I told him. All of us together, a trio.”

“And why would I want that?” Sarah retorted.

“Because you love him and you know I do too. And I know he loves you as powerfully and as passionately as anything he’s ever felt for me. For my part, that intrigues me. Who are you? What sort of person inspires that in him?” Rebecca reached out and touched Sarah’s purple hair, caressing it in her hand. “Is it too much to hope you might wonder the same about me?”

“Curiosity is not attraction.” Sarah admitted. “It’s not love. It’s not even infatuation.”

“No, but it is a start.”

“I’m not a lesbian. I don’t go for that.”

“This is less about bodies than it is about souls.” Rebecca explained. “It’s your soul I want to know. The body is gravy, an extra benefit.”

Michael looked at Rebecca with a mix of astonishment and pride. He doubted that  Rebecca had any knowledge of Sarah’s spiritual side, but she could not have made a more persuasive argument than that one. It was genius.

And it had its impact. Sarah went silent, looking unerringly into Rebecca’s eyes. She was still obviously uncertain, but Rebecca’s words had shaken her up and given her something she hadn’t considered. A crack in the armor had appeared.

Rebecca said nothing, nor did Michael. He was afraid to ruin the moment . It was best to let Sarah puzzle the next step on her own. Michael began to envy Sarah’s power of telepathy. He would have loved to have just parked himself inside her mind in that moment and hear her puzzle this out.

“That distinction is artificial.” Said Sarah after a long moment. She’d processed the idea and came up with a response. “You cannot reach the soul without the body. Without the mind.”

To all observers, those words might have sounded like defeat, but Michael could see a change in Sarah. Her hostility was gone as was her fear. Their circumstance had become for her an academic problem and she was, just as they were, seeking a solution. This might work after all.

Rebecca nodded. Her body posture was one of conceding defeat. She’d tried, but in the end it seemed clear to her there would be no convincing Sarah. Michael was about to interject, to do something, anything, to keep this conversation going, but it was Sarah who took up the baton.

“Look, I get what you’re trying to do.” Sarah said. Her tone was even, almost sympathetic. “But I’m not convinced this will work. I don’t know if I can. Besides all that, you’re Daeva like him. Sex will be a part of this and there’s no avoiding that. It’s a part of who both of you are. I don’t have the first clue how. What to do. What the rules are. Any of it.”

Rebecca let out her breath, as if releasing all of the tension she’d been holding in. She now realized she hadn’t failed. It had worked. Now it was just a matter of navigating the details.

Rebecca cupped Sarah’s face reassuringly in her hand. “Don’t worry.” she said calmingly. “If you want to know what to do, I’ll tell you. If you need rules, we’ll establish them. If want to try something, ask. If something is making you uncomfortable, say it and we’ll stop.” Rebecca moved her hand from Sarah’s face and ran it down her chest. “You really are adorable. I can see why he likes you.”

“Don’t patronize me.” said Sarah defensively. “I’m not a child.”

“I’m sorry.” said Rebecca sincerely. “I was trying to compliment you.”

Michael had forgotten how much of a third rail that was for Sarah. He remembered the first few times they’d met, back when he himself had rejected Sarah because of her child-like appearance. He remembered how truly wounded she was by that, how much the pain of that showed on her face and in her words. Now it was Rebecca’s turn to navigate that minefield of Sarah’s psyche.

“What do you see when you look at me?” said Sarah candidly.

“I see the woman my dearest friend loves.” answered Rebecca. “I see a body on the cusp of womanhood, full of youth and beauty. I see eyes of amber behind which hide a razor-sharp mind. I see tattoos and piercings and provocative clothing that cry out ‘see me as an adult rather than the child you might otherwise.’ I see a face of uncertainty that thinks this whole idea is nuts. I see a heart that loves him fiercely and is terrified that I mean the end of everything you’ve ever wanted.

“And what do you fear, Rebecca?” said Sarah.

“The same.” she admitted. “I fear that he will choose you over me. I fear that you will give in to your anxieties about being with another woman and reject me. I fear my reunion with Michael will come to naught simply because you could ask it and we both know he will obey. And since I know you can read my mind, you know that everything I’m saying is the truth.”

Sarah nodded. “So what happens now? There’s not much to build on when we’re both so afraid of the other.”

“A leap of faith.” said Rebecca. “One not unlike what Michael just did with me, and not all that unlike what I did with him years ago. A choice. A choice to trust, to accept, to forgive, and to love. I will choose to trust you the way I trust him. You must choose to trust me the way you trust him. And he must choose to trust the both of us. It’s the only way this will work in the end.”

Rebecca looked over at Michael invitingly. Michael stepped closer, taking both women in hand. Rebecca’s eyes returned to Sarah. She offered her hand to Sarah.

Sarah looked at the proffered hand warily and for a long moment it seemed as though she would not take it. But then, she slowly reached up and took hold of it, completing the circle between the three of them. And then, just as slowly and just as warily, Sarah stepped inward towards Rebecca. She stood up on her tip-toes and planted a quick peck on Rebecca’s lips.

“Alright. I’ll try.” Sarah muttered nervously. “I make no promises.”

Rebecca took her cue. She leaned in and took hold of Sarah’s lips again with her own. Sarah jerked ever so slightly, uncomfortable at Rebecca’s kiss. For a moment, both Michael and Rebecca thought she’d pull away. But she didn’t. Instead, Sarah leaned in and began to kiss Rebecca in earnest.

“You were always a bit too enthusiastic with my lovers when we hunted together to be completely appalled by the idea of being with another woman.” Michael thought with the hope that Sarah was reading his thoughts. If she was, she did not answer.

Michael then took his cue himself. He released Rebecca’s hand and then switched Sarah from his left to his right, moving behind her. As the two women kissed, Michael leaned down to nibble affectionately at Sarah’s neck. An aroused shiver took hold of Sarah and Michael smiled. He reached down with his free hand and untied the bottom tie of Sarah’s halter top. He then let his hand dance teasingly up her bare back, across her new tattoo, to the top tie. With ease, he unbound that tie as well and Sarah’s shirt fell away to the floor.

Rebecca drew back to look Sarah over. Michael dove in again, kissing Sarah’s neck passionately. When he pulled away again, Sarah looked first at Rebecca then back at him, a nervous but playful smile on her face. She knew what they were about to do.

Without a word, Michael scooped Sarah up into his arms and carried her off to the bed, Rebecca close behind.

---

The sun set again and Michael came awake. The first thing he saw was Rebecca, still in the last vestiges of daysleep, unmoving and oblivious to her surroundings. She was as beautiful as ever, and Michael wondered if he would ever tire of seeing her next to him when he awoke each night.

Something brushed against his leg and his attention was drawn to Sarah, who was now also stirring awake. Her petite form was nestled snuggly between Michael and Rebecca, as it had been when the sun dawned and sleep took them.

Michael was thankful of two things in that moment. (It was, after all, the evening of Thanksgiving Day, so it seemed fitting.) One, that this second hotel had a much heavier curtain drawn across its window, blocking the sunlight from entering and giving the three of them the freedom to sleep the day away in an actual bed. And two, that Rebecca apparently slumbered somewhat longer than either of them. That was an opportunity for some one-on-one with Sarah.

Her back was to him as they lay, so Michael reached down and grabbed her under her arms and pulled her higher up beside him. He parted her legs slightly and thrust inside forcefully. She let out a somewhat surprised gasp of pleasure and looked at him demurely.

“Did you not have enough of that last night?” Sarah purred. Their lovemaking the night before had been entirely focused on Sarah. Both he and Rebecca had outdone themselves trying to make her both comfortable and ecstatic with pleasure. Sarah was, for those few hours, the only thing in the world that mattered to either of them.

“There is no such thing.” he retorted. “I could never have enough of you.” It was an honest admission. He nuzzled her neck and kissed around her ear. “I was so scared when you were convinced I would leave you forever.”

“Leave it to you to find a way to have us both.” Said Sarah with an element of playful sarcasm.

“It was her idea.” Michael offered. “I was content to leave us as friends at most. But she talked me out of it. Convinced me this would work.”

“I’m not sure I believe you.” Sarah gasped out, her own arousal overcoming her reason. “I can’t imagine you fought very hard to say no to her.”

“I didn’t.” Michael admitted, but he wasn’t sure if Sarah heard him since she began to tremble her way through a powerful orgasm.

“Her turn.” Sarah said as she came out of it. Michael looked up at Rebecca. She was now awake and had been watching the two of them.

“Really?” Michael wondered aloud. “I’m not done…”

“You ignored her all night last night for me. You owe her. Besides, I want to see you with her. I need to see that…both for me to get used to seeing it and to know that it’s real between you and not just some lustful game.”

“You’re going to give me performance anxiety.” Michael joked.

Rebecca grabbed his arm and yanked him over on top of her. “Why are you worried?” she asked, her tone completely serious. She spread her legs and guided him inside.

After a few thrusts, Michael’s desire for Rebecca grew and overcame his trepidation. He came to realize this was not a “performance.” That would have been inauthentic, as would Michael holding back any of his passion for Rebecca. Sarah wanted to see how much they loved one another and Michael now understood why. This had to be real. This had to be honest or it was going to fall apart in short order.

Despite the multiple nights they’d spent in each others arms, Michael discovered that what he had said about Sarah was just as true about Rebecca: There was no such thing as enough. Each of them, in turn, gave into their desires, erupting into their own powerful orgasms. Michael rolled off Rebecca and looked at Sarah. Much to his delight, she was smiling and there was a hungry look in her eye.

“I think I want to go again.” She growled lustily.

“If we are not careful, we’ll end up spending all of tonight going back and forth like this.” Interjected Rebecca. “As fun as that would be, we should probably focus a little bit on some more immediate matters.”

“Such as?” Sarah’s disappointment was obvious in her tone.

“Getting you two a better hiding place for one. Michael, you’ve seen the upstairs of Studio Gothic. That would seem a better venue for our future adventures, both in and out of the bed.”

Michael nodded. “Fair enough.”

“Secondly, after we’ve gotten you two moved in, I’ll summon the Carthian Core to meeting. There we can convince them to side with you against the Prince. I trust you can be persuasive.”

“I would hope.”

Rebecca turned back to Sarah. “And while I’m doing that, you two can have all the fun you want with one another.” She leaned in to kiss Sarah. “Just save a little for me later.” Rebecca then bounded out of bed and began to get dressed.

“I might get used to this after all.” Sarah said to Michael via telepathy. “She’s a good kisser.”

“You should try the rest of her.” Michael thought back.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

Michael smiled and sat up next.

---

El Ángel Y El Diablo was a Puerto Rican dive bar in the Fairhill neighborhood of North Philly. It looked a rough place, the sort of bar gang members, criminals, and other undesirables would use. That’s because it was; It was home to the Los Ángeles gang, which had nothing to do with the West Coast city and everything to do with the skeletal angel figure that stood out as the gang’s insignia.

The bar’s owner was a tall reasonably handsome Puerto Rican man named Don Cruez. He was also kindred, one of the Carthian Core. The gang, named for the more divine half of his bar, were his thralls. He was also Rebecca’s primary rival for control of the Core. With his gang, he had some muscle, but it was strength he squandered on petty territorial disputes with other criminal elements in the city. He could not, Rebecca often argued, bring it to bear against the Core’s real enemies.

Michael walked into El Ángel armed with that knowledge, Rebecca at his side. The bar was filled with rough looking Latino men and a few women, some gang members themselves, others likely prostitutes plying their trade among the gang. Most looked at the two very white newcomers with a combination of suspicion and disdain. Rebecca was unfazed. She’d been here before and was fully confident that she could kick the ass of anyone there who gave them trouble. Michael was somewhat less convinced. Oh, one-on-one sure. No one here was any match. But somehow, he doubted they would be so kind as to allow him a “fair fight.”

Cruez motioned to the two of them to follow him into the back. Michael and Rebecca strode across the room. One of the gang members tossed a beer coaster at Michael’s head as he walked by, much to the amusement of the assembled crowd, but Michael chose to ignore it.

The room they entered was filled with about a half-dozen or so kindred; the whole of the Carthian Core coterie. Nearly all of them were Latino by birth and Gangrel or Daeva by clan. They chatted among themselves in Spanish, growing quiet with the arrival of the newcomers.

“So, Becca, you bring the fugitive to our little meeting?” said one loudly. “Is this for us to find out what el Principe will give us for his hide?”

“Do you really think he’d give you anything?” Michael growled in response.

“Mind yourself, intruso.” Said Cruez. “You’re on our territory now.”

Michael held up his hands derisively. “Or what? You have no leader. Tiberius is dead and with him went any leverage you had against Walsh.”

“I could kill you.” Cruez threatened. Michael suspected he meant it.

“You are welcome to try.” Trial by combat might make this easy. Michael sized up Cruez. He was all bluster and bravado and no match for a seasoned combatant like Michael.

Cruez’s abilty to judge the character of his opponent was not as sharp. He called Michael’s bluff, rushing him but Michael was ready. With a deft move, Michael dodged aside, drew his wakazashi, and tripped Cruez. As Creuz fell into the wooden table before him, Michael slammed the blade hard through his back, pinning him to the table.

“You can’t fight worth a damn.” Michael mocked. “No wonder the Prince has no respect for you.” He yanked the blade free and tossed Cruez across the room.

The gathered Carthian kindred now looked at Michael with some fear. Cruez snarled angrily at Michael. “That was a mistake.”

“Was it? What are you going to do now? Send in your gang that does all your fighting for you? How far into the room do you suppose they’ll get before I separate your head from your neck?” Michael looked about at the assembled kindred. “You’re weak. That’s the problem with the lot of you. All your high ideals are wonderful, but you cannot gain any traction because you do not have strength to back them up.”

Michael pointed his blade at each kindred in turn. “There’s not a one of you in here that can take me and you all know it. Including you, Cruez. But why be enemies?” Michael returned the sword to its scabbard. “What you need are better allies and better leadership. I come offering both.”

“Her?” said Cruez incredulously, pointing to Rebecca.

“My childe? My student? Yes. Rebecca is precisely what you need. Strength, determination, skill. No one here knew she was mine until just now. And if I’m this good, imagine what she is.” Michael was stretching the truth somewhat. Rebecca had, of course, not learned a single fighting technique from him. But Michael had proven himself stronger than Cruez and Rebecca was stronger than he was. It was an easy bluff.

“So demand Rebecca be made your primogen,” Michael continued, making his offer. “And I will bring the full might of my own coterie to your aid. Do this and we will change this city. We will change the game. You, a coterie of power and influence that cannot be ignored with an ally that the Prince fears. Just imagine the possibilities.”

“You are a fugitive.” Pointed out one of the other Carthians, a Latina in dreadlocks. “Walsh has a blood hunt out for you.”

“What’s Walsh going to do?” interjected Rebecca. “Blood hunt every one of us for aiding him? We number a half-dozen kindred, plus all our thralls and mortal allies. Michael’s coterie has similar numbers. The College is strong, but not that strong. If we 15 or so threaten a war, you’ll discover just how quickly a wanted criminal can be pardoned of their crimes. Walsh will back down. I guarantee it.”

“This all sounds bueno, but why should we trust you?” Cruez asked, still glaring at Michael.

“You don’t have to.” Said Michael flippantly. “You can say no. I walk away and I take my war to Walsh without your help.” Michael pointed at Rebecca. “But I get her and you get nothing. You get to remain a second-rate coterie that the Prince barely acknowledges. You get none of your ideals realized. And if I win, and take that throne for myself without your help, don’t expect me to treat you any differently than Walsh. But if I take it with your help, that’s another story.” He paused for dramatic effect. “I can be very generous to my friends.”

“So this is insurrection. This is rebellion.” Said Cruez.

“Did you honestly think I just moved here to be a tourist? You heard what Monroe and Walsh said about me. It’s all true. I’m a trouble-maker. They’re next on my hit list. You can either help me or get the fuck out of my way. Your call.”

Cruez looked at Michael for a long moment, the anger in his eyes unabated.

“I say we vote. Are we with him or on our own?” That was the dreadlocked woman again. She raised her hand. “I’m with him. No more Walsh. Me cago en Dios y en la puta Virgen.” She spat derisively.

Others raised their hands, all in fact except Cruez. In frustration, he let out a string of profanity in both English and Spanish, sat down, and then raised his hand in defeat.

“Unanimous.” Said Rebecca. “Good. Now for the next step.”

---

Martin glared at Mitch. “This is not a good idea.”

“Calm yourself. They’ll sense your fear.”

The two of them and Anna were standing the same parking lot where Michael had first gathered his coterie on the night he was introduced to the city, about a half-mile or so upriver from the Art Museum. It was the night of Walsh’s December court and the night Rebecca had chosen to put the next step of their plan in motion.

“Fucking vampires.” Snarled Martin, ignoring Mitch.

“I heard that.” Said Michael, appearing out of nowhere. Martin nearly jumped out of his skin. Rebecca likewise materialized from the shadows. Both had used their powers of stealth to sneak up on the unsuspecting mages.

“Your friend is skittish.” Complained Michael to Mitch, walking up to Martin to stare him in the face. Martin wisely refused to stare back, remembering how many vampire powers used eye contact as a trigger. “Don’t you realize we kindred are often as scared of you wizards as you are of us?" Michael continued. "You could wish the concrete beneath my feet to turn to lava and I’d fry in a heartbeat.”

“I can’t do that.” Martin admitted.

“But the folks inside don’t know that.” Michael emphasized.

“We’ve gone over this.” Said Mitch. “When we get our cue, we show off a little. A bit of magic to give the bloodsuckers in there pause. Something flashy. You do have that worked out, right?”

Martin nodded. “I’ll accelerate time around me. Try to move at ten times normal speed. That ought to get their attention.”

Mitch nodded. “I had something similar in mind, but that’ll do. Anna?”

Anna reached down to the pavement and muttered something in a language none of them understood. A small rock-like creature emerged from the ground and uncoiled itself. “It’s not much, but I intend to summon a small nature spirit. Probably an earth elemental like this one. Will that be enough?”

“Enough to prove that you’re mages.” Said Michael, “which is the point. I want Prince Walsh to see the coalition of allies I’ve put together. Not just vampires, but mages and…” He paused as a pick-up truck pulled into the lot, then continued. “…our latest arrivals.”

Boar, Cortez, and Janice got out of the truck. “Who are they?” Martin asked.

“Werewolves.” Answered Anna after dismissing the elemental back to the spirit realm. “Can’t you tell?”

Martin frowned as the three newest arrivals joined their group. He hated feeling ignorant and uninformed, particularly in the midst of so many “monsters” that were normally rivals at best and outright enemies at worst.

But Martin noted the ease and calm that both Mitch and the werewolf leader, the man named Boar, had around the vampire Michael. They made a formidable trio and even Martin got the sense that they would not easily allow himself or Anna or anyone else but their enemies come to harm that night. They could be trusted.

“It’s time.” Said Rebecca. “You know the plan?” Both Boar and Mitch nodded. They then signaled to their respective companions to follow. Michael remained behind.

“You’re not coming?” Martin wondered.

“Not yet. I can’t.” Michael answered. He stepped back into the shadows on the edge of the parking lot and vanished from sight once more.

Martin shrugged. He was not savvy on vampire politics and he didn’t care to learn. He knew that had a lot to do with why he was here tonight, but he trusted Mitch to know the score. Even if he didn’t, Martin felt he had to make up for his earlier foolishness with the two of them somehow. This was as good an option as any, if a little intimidating.

“What if this goes south?” asked Cortez. Martin allowed himself a slight smile. Even one of the werewolves was nervous.

“Walsh isn’t that big a fool.” Answered Rebecca confidently. “Violence is strongly frowned upon at these sorts of events, so he’d draw the ire of many of his supporters if he tried something. Given that, he’d be stupid to try to challenge an entire coterie of kindred with support from six werewolves and mages whose powers he’s completely ignorant of. No one is going to run to his aid and while he is quite powerful, he’s no match against the lot of us. We’d end his reign right quick if he tried to harm us here.”

“More likely, he’ll wait to come after us all later.” Said Boar. “That’s what I’d do. Divide and conquer.”

“And that will take planning and time, resources we can use to our advantage as well.” Replied Rebecca.

“The Hierarch is not going to be happy that we are here.” Added Martin.

“You wanted him to move on the Brotherhood.” Retorted Mitch. “Did you think forcing his hand wasn’t going to involve some risk? Yes, Zao’s going to be pissed at us, but in the end this will get us what we want and probably flush the Brotherhood’s vampire allies out into the light where they don’t want to be.”

“Giving us targets for the next step in this plan.” Said Boar. His eyes had a hungry look, like he was relishing the likelihood of future violence.

“Indeed.” Said Rebecca. “After tonight, we put the Prince and all his allies on the defensive.” They came around the Art Museum and began walking up the “Rocky” steps towards the main entrance.

Mortal security guards minded the door, thralls of the Prince and his College allies. But with Rebecca in the lead of their merry band, they made no move to hinder them from going inside.

With no hesitation, Rebecca marched the length of the Great Hall towards the statue of Diana, at the base of which sat both Prince Walsh and Thomas Monroe. Martin, Cortez, and the others fell in behind her, all putting on a show of arrogant confidence or at least as best they could manage.

“You bring outsiders into our court, Ms. Phillips. Humans.” Growled Walsh, using the same imperious voice he’d used on Michael when he’d made his entrance here two months earlier. “You endanger the Masquerade.”

Rebecca ignored the accusation. “Prince Elias Walsh, I demand the blood hunt against Michael Allens and his coterie be rescinded immediately.”

“You demand?” The Prince scoffed. The rest of the College kindred chuckled at her presumption. “And what if I refuse?”

“Try me.” Taunted Rebecca.

“You are nothing but an insolent little whelp, the worthless spawn of a worthless covenant. Didi, Caine, remove her from my sight.”

From the sides of the Grand Stair emerged Didi Myers and Caine Morganti, the new hound and sheriff of the city. Caine drew from his back a large medieval broadsword, holding it aloft in a manner meant more for intimidation than actual combat.

“Steady.” Mitch whispered to Martin and Anna. “Let this play out.”

Rebecca stood her ground, unmoving and unflinching as Didi and Caine both moved in on her. Caine reached out to take hold of her and Rebecca took her cue.

Caine had made a dangerous mistake. By using his weapon as a mere prop, his grip on it was far too loose. Rebecca took advantage. She struck like a snake, snatching the weapon from Caine’s hand. In a single arcing stroke, she slashed across Didi’s legs, cutting them both off below the knee. She then brought the blade up and took Caine’s outstretched arm off at the elbow.

It happened so fast even the assembled kindred could barely follow what happened. The stroke had taken less than a tenth of a second, and in that instant she’d disabled both of the Prince’s enforcers with a single blow. Walsh’s eyes went wide.

“I demand the blood hunt against Michael Allens and his coterie be rescinded immediately. And if this isn’t enough persuasion…”

“Now.” Said Boar.

Martin, Anna, and Mitch all cast their spells at the same moment as the three werewolves all morphed into monstrous dire wolves. The Carthian Core vampires all jumped down from their usual perch above them and encircled the wolves and wizards from behind.

Every kindred not a part of the Core made for the wall, trying to put as much distance between themselves and the snarling wolves and the spellcasting wizards as possible.

Rebecca glared hard at the Prince. “I’ll give you a war the likes of which this city has never seen.”

Walsh was dumbfounded and speechless. He flexed his hand several times, opening and closing it like a fist as he tried to come up with a response to what everyone was seeing before them. “You would risk bringing the hunters down on us?” He finally muttered, a weak response at best.

“I would. Who has most to lose from that, my Prince?”

Walsh glanced behind him at Monroe. The elder vampire’s look was neutral, as if evaluating what Walsh would do next and if he would prove himself or not in this test. Walsh turned back to Rebecca.

“Very well. The blood hunt is called off.”

“Good.” Said Rebecca. She flung Caine’s sword away. “I lead the Carthians now and I likewise petition Michael be given a seat on the council as the leader of his coterie.”

“You declare yourself primogen?” said Walsh, some of his imperious manner returning anew.

“Have I not proven worthy of it? I got you to nearly piss yourself in front of the whole population of kindred.” Mocked Rebecca. “Who else on the council has ever managed that?”

Walsh’s face contorted into a snarl. He’d been outmaneuvered, threatened, and humiliated all in a span of less than 2 minutes. But, to his credit, he knew when he’d been beaten.

“Fine. You may have Tiberius’ seat on the council. And Michael…”

Michael suddenly appeared next to Rebecca, emerging from his cloak of invisibility. Walsh paused to let out an disgusted and frustrated growl before continuing. “Michael may have a seat on the primogen council as well. What shall we call his little band of interlopers?”

“The Invaders.” Michael offered. “That is, after all, what you think of us.”

“So, that was your plan then after all.” Walsh shot Monroe a disgusted look, as if blaming the elder for this turn of events. “To take over.”

“We shall see.” Said Michael confidently.

---

Nothing else that night mattered. Whatever business Walsh had intended for his court was tabled until later. The Prince stormed out of there not five minutes after agreeing to Rebecca and Michael’s demands. The other kindred likewise hurriedly concluded their own business before getting as far away from the werewolves, mages, and Carthians as possible.

Monroe was the last to leave. During the whole affair, he had sat largely motionless, his face without expression. Once the last of the other kindred had left, he stood up and with a dignified grace, made his way down the stairs. He headed for the exit, but paused when he drew near to Michael.

“Lord Michael, I would be honored if you would join me on my island. There is much we must discuss. Come on St. Stephen’s Day and come alone.” He whispered commandingly. And without any further word, he departed.

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