Act Three Chapter Two - And We Danced

Martin walked over to Anna and dropped down into the seat next to her. He tossed the student newspaper onto the table in front of her. “Did you see?”

Anna smiled and laughed. “It was overdue.”

Martin picked the paper back up and began to read. “Notorious student bully Henry Lee Tucker was found unconscious outside Hardwick Hall on Tuesday. Police investigators believe him to have been assaulted. His two bodyguards, a large part of his infamy on Temple’s campus, were nowhere to be found.” He tossed the paper back down. “I wonder if they got tired of his shit.”

“Rich punk kid from Allentown.” Anna began, recounting Tucker’s story. “One almost too stupid to breathe without outside aid, can only get into one college in the whole damn state. His parents, thoroughly convinced that North Philly is only one step removed from hell itself, hire two thugs to accompany him everywhere he goes on campus. Said student turns around and uses his two bodyguards to bully and intimidate everyone he can see.”

“You get the feeling our student reporter here has crossed paths with him.”

“Yeah, that’s kind of obvious. Weren’t many of us who crossed paths with that asshole who didn’t bear a grudge.” A hint of anger crept into Anna’s voice. Tucker had been indiscriminant in his behavior, bullying and intimidating men and women alike. “I suppose the question of the hour is who’d the lucky bastard who managed to take him out?”

“It doesn’t say he was shot, so I’d rule out Mitch.”

“I don’t think Mitch has been around here enough to cross paths with him.” Anna smiled. “Did you do it?”

“You’re the one who can make spirits of land and sky do your bidding. At best, I can flip a coin 100 times and have it come up heads each time. If we’re talking about the two of us, I’d more wonder if you had anything to do with it.” He returned Anna’s smile.

Thaddeus Zao had been, as expected, furious that his novice mages had involved themselves so directly into vampire affairs. Mitch’s reaction to the Hierarch’s fury amounted to little more than “fuck off,” but Martin and Anna’s fates were more intertwined with the Consilium. They were now under censure from the Hierarch, unable to continue their official duties or their magical studies until further notice.

With the loss of support from their mentors, Martin and Anna were largely adrift. The difficulty of that was compounded by their relationship troubles. Both of them were still largely at odds with one another over Martin’s face-changing stunt; To call them “together” would have been a stretch.

With their enemies in the Brotherhood and the vampire community lying low for the time being, the two of them had only each other to occupy their time and energy. That was awkward given all that had taken place.

Martin finally got fed up with it all. Using his magical gifts, he managed to score a tidy sum from the Pennsylvania Lottery in January, enough money to buy a nice Spring Break vacation to Cancun. Seven days on a beach in the tropics might remedy their relationship woes.

Sun, sand, minimal clothing, and separation from Philadelphia worked their magic on the two novice mages and the spark between them rekindled. They had just returned to Philadelphia earlier that week to the news of this bully and his fate.

“Hey, guys!” Mitch jumped over the back of the sofa and landed gracefully next to Martin. “Thought I might find you here. How was Cancun?”

“Warm. Beautiful. Blue sky. Blue water. Seven days alone with the prettiest girl in the world.” Mused Martin.

“Well, that answers my next question. Guess things are back on between the two of you.”

“We needed the time away to work our shit out.” Anna admitted. “Neither of us wanted to leave the other, but we didn’t know how to hold each other accountable for the stupid things we did. A few days away from Zao, the Brotherhood, and to be blunt, you, and we got ourselves back on track.”

“Good.” Mitch ignored the implication that he held some responsibility for their troubles. Anna’s attraction to him was not his fault.

“Now it’s your turn.” Said Martin gleefully. “Surely, there’s someone on this campus that’ll be interested in a bit of Mitch.”

“Besides me.” Anna added flippantly.

“Guys…” Mitch began, but Martin cut him off.

“No, we have a new mission. If we’re to be ostracized from mage society, and we’ve got our stuff worked out, then we need something else to occupy our energy.”

“Being college students isn’t enough?”

“As if I’m really going to be an accountant someday…” Martin rolled his eyes. “Come on. I’m hungry. Let’s go hit Burger King and discuss this.”

The three of them headed out of the student center and headed down the block towards the restaurant. Mitch was neither particularly hungry nor particularly interested in having his lack of a love life discussed. He had come, however, to invite the two of them to the opening of Club CRASS on Saturday.

“Hey, guys, I tracked you two down to give you these.” He held out the two VIP passes for the club’s grand opening.

“That your vampire friend’s new club?” asked Anna.

“Opens tomorrow night. Look at it as a date.”

“Thanks. Do you have a date to this party?” asked Martin.

“No, but it’s South Street. Do you really think I won’t be able to find a hook-up?”

“Good point.”

The loud echoing bang of a firearm going off ripped through the air. Mitch flinched and reached for his weapon. All around them, the Temple students that had been milling about scattered in panic. “What the hell? That was a gunshot.”

About one hundred yards away, they could see a large burly individual with a drawn handgun marching slowly and methodically towards them. He fired again, dropping a nearby student. Mitch grabbed the two of them and yanked them with him behind a nearby car. Not much cover, but they might escape notice.

“Something’s not right about him.” Declared Anna. “I think he’s possessed.”

“As in demon?” asked Mitch, drawing his gun.

“Spirit of some kind. Spirits of murder, hunger, and violence sometimes slip between their world and ours. Usually it’s the werewolves that keep them at bay or at least that’s the job they claim to do.”

“This one slipped past them.” Said Martin.

“Or was sent.” Said Mitch grimly. The gunman was nearly on top of them. “Please tell me he can be shot.”

“Maybe.”

“Great. When I pop up, run!” With that, Mitch jumped up and opened fire himself. Martin and Anna dashed across the street at that very moment.

At such close range, Mitch was not going to miss and the double-tap from his .45 struck home. The large man grunted as if hit by nothing more dangerous or painful than a baseball. He then turned his weapon on Mitch.

“Shit!” Mitch dove for the pavement as the gunman fired. The round from the man’s big Desert Eagle whizzed over his head.

Anna stood up and muttered an incantation. The gunman lurched as if grabbed by some supernatural force. Anna gritted her teeth and made a yanking motion with her right hand. Mitch looked up and saw the spirit tear away from the man’s body, pulled free by the power of Anna’s spell.

The man collapsed onto the pavement, the lethal wound Mitch had inflicted now having its effect. Anna held the spirit aloft for a second before slamming her hands together. The spirit let out an unearthly scream and then vanished.

“Nice work.” Complemented Mitch, holstering his pistol.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure I could do that or not. We got lucky.” She gasped. The spell had been taxing and she was clearly winded by the effort. She shook off her fatigue and ran over to the girl that had been shot by the gunman earlier.

“You’ve got one hell of a girlfriend, Martin.” Said Mitch, kicking the dead man’s gun away.

“Yeah.” He looked down at the gunman. “Holy shit, that’s one of Tucker’s bodyguards.”

“Tucker?”

Martin explained quickly about Tucker, his reputation, and the report in the news about him. By the time he finished, the plaza was swarming with cops and emergency personnel. Paramedics tended to the wounded girl and the police questioned Mitch about the shooting. Anna wandered back over to Martin.

“Something’s up.” She said, a troubled look on her face.

“Kind of obvious when a murder spirit possesses a thug and sends him on a shooting rampage across Temple’s campus. Thankfully only one person got hurt.”

“I shouldn’t have been able to banish that spirit. A spirit that’s strong enough to cross into this world and take possession of a human, even a brainless thug like that guy, shouldn’t have been weak enough for me to handle. This doesn’t add up.”

“Maybe he was willing.” Martin offered. “After all, I’m sure Tucker wasn’t the nicest of employers.”

“I still can’t always tell when you’re being serious or cracking jokes.” Replied Anna, her voice getting a hint of annoyance.

“Fine. It was a joke, but you have to admit it might be the truth. Maybe the spirit gave the guy an offer and he accepted.”

“Still doesn’t explain how he got here in the first place.” Anna frowned. “We need to talk to Zao.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun…”

---

When dusk came, Michael was usually one of the first to rise. That was not the case tonight. Sarah crawled out from under him, pulled a sheet around herself and wandered out to the hotel lobby to look out into the night sky. She took in the silence for a long moment, enjoying it and savoring it, before she heard the rustle of someone else awakening and coming out into the hallway.

It was Rebecca. Unlike Sarah, she made no accommodation for modesty. She walked up beside Sarah and looked out the front door.

“A largely empty parking lot.”

“It depends on what you want to see.” said Sarah insightfully. “Urban ruin or a tranquil night.”

“Funny you should bring that up.” said Rebecca. “Taking him off by yourself kind of defeats the purpose of an orgy.”

“That was the point.”

“Sarah, I care about you. I love you. Like Michael, I’ve even come to lust after you,  but one thing I have yet to accomplish is understand you. You ask and he obliges without hesitation. And yet you still believe he will run away to whoever opens their arms to him.”

“It’s hard enough sharing Michael with you and I know your intentions are good. You’ve let me in your head. I’ve read your thoughts. Your feelings. I can trust you, but not them. His sire? His old harem girls? No. I can’t go there anymore.”

“What more proof do you need that he will never abandon you?”

“It’s not about that.” said Sarah, pulling the sheet around her more tightly, as if she were cold, an impossibility for kindred. “I think you know I am a childe of Ernie. He embraced me in a psych ward because he couldn’t resist the idea of a crazy 12 year old. But I wasn’t really insane and it didn’t take him long to figure that out. So he tried to make me so, but I was a strong kid and he eventually got frustrated with me and abandoned me. I was 15 when he finally left me. I did three things when I found my freedom. I enthralled my mother and my surviving sister, I dove into my reading and worked to educate myself, and I made a deal with Prince Lazarus to hunt the boardwalk in Virginia Beach. I played the part, as Michael once called it, of a ‘pedophile wet dream.’ Hey, mister, I’m lost. Can you come help me?” She did the last sentences in a sing-song childish voice for emphasis.

“I worked out my rage at all that had happened to me on the predators who stalked those streets, looking for the innocent. And then I found the innocent myself.

“His name was Jack. He was Mormon on his missionary excursion. White shirt, black tie, the whole bit. Decent guy and he genuinely wanted to help me. Cute, kind, and I was still a 15 year old in my head, regardless of what my body looked like. I developed a raging crush on him almost immediately.

“But there was a problem. I may have been the Prince’s secret weapon against sexual predators on his turf, but I was also a pagan and that put me under the jurisdiction of Primogen Michelle La Croix, the vainglorious leader of the Servants of Typhon coterie. She hated me. Feared my connection to Ernie and my special privileges under the Prince, so she went out of her way to bully and punish me as much as she could. They found Jack floating in the Bay one night, drained of blood and an Egyptian hieroglyphic branded into his forehead. Freaked the Mormon community out something fierce. It was the 80s and it was the height of the whole Satanic hysteria. But I knew what it really was and what it really meant. Michelle was determined to make sure I was alone, and if it meant robbing me of anyone I might take into my heart or my bed, then so be it.

“And that became the pattern. I’d get to liking someone and Michelle would find a way to snatch them out from under me. Some she killed. Others she just seduced or made her own slave. And then came Luke.

“Luke was this awkward nerdy Virginia Tech student who was trying to pledge to a fraternity that wanted nothing to do with him. They sent him on some fools errand during a trip to Virginia Beach and he stumbled onto me. He was sincere. He was honest. By this time, I had developed enough skill to read minds, so I knew he wanted to help me. I also knew he wanted to fuck the daylights out of me.

“There’s a difference between the predatory desire of a pedophile and the genuine heartfelt passion of a person in love. When you can read minds, you can tell the difference. In much the same way I can sense your sincerity towards Michael, I could sense Luke’s toward me. I’d had plenty of crushes on men before, but Luke was the first one who’d ever felt anything real for me. That was intoxicating. He wanted me. He desired me. He was attracted to me. I gave my virginity to him and his to me. Oh, I know I’d been groped and fondled, even penetrated by the predators I hunted, but Luke is the one I count as my first. I loved him and he loved me. I was determined to keep Michelle from hurting him, so I enthralled him. I made him my slave, thinking that by laying such a claim on him, I could keep him safe.

“Well, she didn’t try to seduce him. Instead, Michelle just had her thugs beat him nearly to death. He was in a coma for six weeks and when he woke up, all he could do was drool on himself. Permanent brain damage. Not even feeding him my blood could heal him. The young man that I loved and who loved me back was gone. At that point, I gave up trying. Years passed. And then on Christmas in 1992, I laid eyes on Michael for the first time and it started all over again. In some ways, I didn’t want to fall for him, but one look at his face and I couldn’t help it. After I read his mind in an unguarded moment and I learned what manner of person he was, I wanted him even more.

“Maybe I’m selfish; I’ll admit to that. But I want him for me and for me alone and I can’t shake this fear that a new Michelle will come along and snatch him away.”

“Michelle is dead. She cannot no longer harm you.”

“Yes. But it’s really not her that I fear. It’s what she represents to me.” Sarah paused. “Think about this from my perspective. Nearly everyone I’ve ever loved is gone. My coven, my mother, my father, both my sisters, Jack, Luke, all dead. You and Michael are all I have left. Can you understand why I’m so afraid?”

“I can.” said Rebecca sympathetically. “But you let your fear blind you to the truth. You can read minds and yet you cannot see that Michael loves you beyond words. He would never give you up. He would never forsake you. He would die for you if it came to that. That’s who he is. That’s largely why I fell for him too. Becoming kindred did not change that part of him, that noble savage that he is. Not one bit. He may lust after all the pleasures of the flesh, but when he puts his heart out there for someone, he means it.” Rebecca paused. “I envy you that.”

“This trinity thing we’re trying to do isn’t easy.” admitted Sarah.

“And we’ve all admitted that numerous times. You ask me to look at things your way. Do the same for me. Michael still has trouble discerning between the real me and the Rebecca of his fantasies and projections. You keep thinking yourself the odd man out in our trio, but it’s really me. I love him more than he loves me. And you and I? Well, we’re still a work in progress. The truth is, if I walked away, you and Michael would continue without even a hiccup. If you walked away, I would not be able to put him back together again. I wish I could make you see that. I’m the one that loses the most if this falls apart. Not you. You have him. You will always have him.”

---

Solomon took a sip of his bourbon as he watched down the street. “This is pointless.” He grumbled.

The White Rose Café, a York city stalwart, was not terribly busy for a Friday night. Its outdoor patio, newly reopened with the coming of spring, served as a nice vantage point from which to watch the nearby storefront that Ernie used for his “church.” Julia was tapping away on her laptop, occasionally sipping a latte.

“I’m afraid you’re right. Either Ernie figured out we found his nest or he’s seen us watching or…”

“…he’s a Great Elder and has an instinct about these things. We know he’s still here. We know his little cult is still operating out of that building over there. But we haven’t seen a single sign of him since we started watching full-time two weeks ago. Nor did we see him on any of the spot checks we ran over the past two and a half months. You’re right. He’s onto us.”

Solomon finished his drink. “I should have guessed. Ernie has displayed two abilities that make him nearly impossible to shadow. He can vanish from sight and he can read minds. I remember being told about him decades ago that you don’t find him. If you want to talk to him, he finds out somehow and then he finds you.”

“Maybe that’s what we need to do.” Julia suggested. “Rather than be all stealthy about it, why don’t we be up front with him?”

“Risky, but intriguing.” Commented Solomon. “He’d know we work for Michael, so he might not contact us. But then again, he’s completely nuts, so he might show up just because he can. Impossible to predict the movements of a madman.”

“Therein lies our problem. We’ve been trying to predict his movements like he’s normal all along. Let’s do something unexpected. Out of the ordinary. That might get his attention.”

Solomon nodded. “Good idea. Let’s do it.”

“Although it may have to wait…”

“What is it?”

“I downloaded my emails before we came over here. I’ve been sifting through them as we’ve been watching the church. I got a hit from one of the secret Usenet groups that hunters use to communicate with one another. Someone’s looking for Michael.”

“I didn’t realize you still did that.”

“It’s the reason Michael embraced me, remember? I used to be a hunter and I know their strategies and tools. With the Malleus and the Abbey breathing down our necks after these past few months, I figured I’d renew some of my old habits. Good thing too.” She turned the laptop around to show Solomon.

“I’m no expert on modern computers. What does it mean?”

“Not much at this point. I need to see the original Usenet post. I wonder if there’s an internet café around or someplace else I can hook up.”

Solomon shrugged. “York isn’t that cosmopolitan. A library might work, but they’re all closed. Best head back to my place and try there. I doubt we’re going to miss much here anyway.”

They paid their bill and headed out to the bike. Jacobus was a good 15 minutes south of York itself, but the ride went smoothly. Once back at Solomon’s haven, Julia plugged in and began her search.

“Found it.” She said after only a few short minutes. “Yeah, it’s as I feared.”

Solomon moved up behind her. “What is it?”

“A call from a hunter looking for Michael. It’s zeroed in on Philadelphia. These sorts of posts are dangerous. It was one not all that unlike this that brought me and all the other hunters to Tidewater.”

“The Reign of Terror?”

“Yeah. Bad news. Even has a photo attachment. Let me download this.” Her hands moved across the keyboard quickly. After a few seconds, the picture came up.

“That was taken at the Art Museum the night we were welcomed to the city.” He growled. “So it’s another kindred again, trying to use the hunters to bring us down.”

“Well, that’s the origin of the photo. It could be passed on second-hand. The origin of the post is from a Roman Catholic church email address. This guy’s Malleus.”

“You got a name?”

“David Hemmingway.” Said Julia. “Wait a minute, I’ve heard of this guy. Something of a wunderkind in hunter circles. Heavy duty muscle for the MM. Works out of Boston, I believe.” She continued to glance through the Usenet post. “This guy knows a lot about Michael. His birth city, his likely date of embrace…How would he know these things?”

“Two possibilities. Neither very comforting. One, we have a traitor. Someone who knows Michael very intimately and can share that information with this hunter. Two, this guy Hemmingway knows Michael personally.”

“Either way, we need to get back to Philly.”

---

Paul Miller sat up in bed and groaned. The room was dark and empty, but he didn’t need that to tell him what he knew by instinct. Another day had passed and night had come again.

The other half of his bed was empty, which was no surprise. Three months together had taught Paul that Kathleen, his lover, was an early riser, often popping away just as the sun slipped beneath the horizon. He, on the other hand, was notorious as a late riser, never quite able to shake the daysleep until well after the sun had vanished from the sky.

Even now, awake at last, he found himself sluggish, as if sleep still held him firm in its grasp. He stood up and groaned again, trying to shake the lethargy from his limbs. He walked over to the large walk-in closet and opened the door.

Kathleen gave a startled yelp and nearly jumped out of her skin. She’d been getting dressed within and was surprised by Paul opening the door.

“Jesus, Kathleen, it’s not like you didn’t know I was here.” He grumbled. He turned to his half of the closet, looking for something appropriate to wear to the big debut at Club CRASS tonight. He ran through several shirts before pausing and then turning back to Kathleen.

“Really?” he said incredulously.

Kathleen had dolled up like a “sexy schoolgirl.” A white half-shirt baring her belly. A short plaid skirt baring her legs. Her hair done up in pigtails. In his sleepy sluggishness, Paul’s brain had failed to register any of this when he first walked into the closet. Now, he could barely believe what he was seeing.

“You like?” she asked.

“It’s different.” Paul admitted noncommittally. He snapped his fingers in front of her face, in much the same manner a hypnotist might do to awaken a client.

“What are you doing?”

“Earth to Kathleen. Is that really you?” Paul’s tone was hard, with a hint of anger.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re doing this for him. For Michael. Did Ernie tell you to?”

“What?”

Paul let out his breath in frustration. “Never mind.” He said in resignation.

The cursed blood of Kathleen’s sire Ernie was manifesting more and more as time went on. Kathleen had begun to show the beginnings of multiple personalities. So far, thankfully, she only had two selves. (As opposed to her sire who seemed to manifest at least a dozen and also seemed to make up new ones almost on whimsy.)

Normal Kathleen was the shy quiet bookish and brilliant young woman that had once been one of the city’s top medical examiners. The same woman that Ernie had taken and tried to twist into a puppet to use against Michael. This Kathleen feared Ernie, knowing his schemes and plans for her. This is the Kathleen that Paul loved and he knew that she loved him.

But sexy Kathleen was another story entirely. This version of her was marked by the same obsession for Michael Allens that Ernie possessed. Ironically, and probably intentionally, this Kathleen seemed completely unaware of Ernie’s existence. That was the clue Paul used to determine which one of her he was dealing with in any given moment.

As much as Paul loved the normal Kathleen, he found sexy Kathleen almost irresistible. With her shyness and inhibitions gone, sexy Kathleen was like all his fantasies come to life. One problem however was that singular obsession with Michael. Even though Paul and Kathleen were a couple and quite sexually active with one another, when Kathleen was this version of herself, she was also her most inhibited with Paul. She acted quite the slut, but it was all for Michael and none of it for Paul.

Of course, there was also a third version of her as well, and that was Ernie himself. Paul was never quite certain when sexy Kathleen made an appearance if that was her own twisted psyche at work or if the mad elder had taken possession of her body again. Since their relationship began, Ernie had not been as inclined to try this little stunt, but the possibility remained that he’d resume his old habits at any moment.

Paul was both envious and jealous of Michael. Jealous, of course, because of sexy Kathleen’s obsession with him. Envious because Michael was also in relationship with someone struggling with Ernie’s legacy and he had the easier deal. Sarah’s schizophrenia could be frustrating, but it didn’t seem to manifest as often or as severely as Kathleen’s multiple personalities. Michael, to his credit, had kept his hands off Kathleen and Paul had no reason to suspect that Kathleen’s attentions would get her anywhere.

All of it together made for a very difficult relationship. Paul had spent a lot of time at the library reading about mental illness and learning about being in a relationship with someone who’s not quite all-together. Patience and understanding were the persistent pieces of advice he kept receiving and he was trying. But it was not easy. Not ever.

Paul reached out, almost by reflex, and took hold of Kathleen by the waist. Her skin was soft and warm, filled with the flush of artificial life that young kindred gave themselves by reflex at each rising. His pajama pants began to tent outward as he grew hard. God, how he wanted to take her like this.

But she pushed him away. “Not for you.” She said scoldingly and Paul’s anger flashed within him as all his fears were realized. It was, not surprisingly, Sexy Kathleen, frigid as ever toward him. He always held out hope that maybe, just maybe, the woman he loved might play the slut for him, but once more his hopes were dashed.

She moved past him back out into the bedroom and Paul gave a moment’s thought to just tackling her and forcing himself onto her. As tempting as it was to take what he desired by force, he also knew that would hardly help her fragile mental state.

It was going to be one of those nights.

---

Michael took the stage, taking his place behind the keyboard. Rebecca moved to her microphone.

“Hello everyone!” She cried out to the excited crowd. “Welcome to Club CRASS. Are you having a good time?” The crowd responded with affirmative shouts and applause. “Good to hear. We’re going to give you a treat tonight. Live music. Great food. Dancing. And lots of drinks at discount prices.” Another roar of applause. “We’re gonna start the music off with a Philadelphia classic. Sing along with you know this one.”

Michael came in on keyboards immediately, along with Erin with her guitar, and the crowd instantly recognized the song. Rebecca began to sing.

She was a be-bop baby on a hard day's night
She was hangin' on Johnny, he was holdin' on tight…

For all the work he’d put into preparing for this night, Michael was as nervous as he’d ever been. But as his hands ran across the keyboard to play the Hooters’ song, the nerves fell away and it was like old times again, playing with Krushed Profit in Blacksburg.

Song after song, all covers of popular 80’s and current bands, came out of their instruments and voices. Their hard work was paying off. The crowd loved it. They played an hour long set, playing Tears for Fears, Flock of Seagulls, Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and a whole host of others, ending with the Depeche Mode song they’d practiced earlier in the week.

Michael came off the stage high on life. The DJ took over, spinning some Eurodance tunes to keep the energy of the place going. This grand opening was one hell of a party.

The whole place was everything Michael had hoped it would be. The Art Deco styling with blue and pink neon lights gave the whole club the feel of a Miami/South Beach hot spot, only far to the north of that fabled party town. The crowd didn’t seem to mind the odd mix of techno, New Wave, and grunge music that had marked the night; in fact, they seemed to eat it up.

“Haven’t played an instrument in years and you haven’t lost a damn bit of it.” Complemented Mitch as Michael took a seat at the bar.

"I missed this.” Michael admitted.

“Great job,” added Boar, giving Michael a playful slap on the back. His girlfriend Natasha was sitting next to him, beaming out a huge smile and clearly enjoying herself.

“Your boyfriend’s buddies know how to have a good time.” Said Boar to her. “Told you you’d like it here.”

Natasha whispered something into Boar’s ear and the two of them jaunted off to the dance floor. Rebecca took her seat.

“Boar’s playing coy, isn’t he?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you not see it?” said Rebecca incredulously. “That rock on her left hand?”

“Say what?” said Mitch and Michael almost simultaneously.

“She’s wearing an engagement ring.” Rebecca spelled it out to the two of them as if they were complete simpletons.

“He didn’t tell me he was doing that!” Michael exclaimed. “Son of a bitch.”

Rebecca shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t want to take away from the festivities of tonight.”

“Take away? Fuck, that adds to them.” Said Michael excitedly. “We should…”

“No,” interjected Rebecca forcefully. “If he wants to keep this quiet, don’t blow it for him.”

“And speaking of things that have missed your notice.” Added Mitch. “Look over there.”

Michael’s gaze followed where Mitch was pointing. The first thing he noticed was the apparently happy reunion between Adrienne and Audrah, dancing together to the pounding beat of “Better Off Alone.” But then he realized that wasn’t what Mitch was referring to. Mitch was pointing to the girl/girl couple behind them: Sarah and her Wicca coven mate Lynne dancing behind them.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” Michael asked.

“Maybe.” Said Rebecca nonchalantly. “Maybe she’s taking our advice finally.”

“And with another woman at that.” Observed Michael. There was a lustful hunger in his tone of voice.

“So what’s happening at Studio Gothic tonight?” asked Mitch, changing the subject.

“We’re closed. I gave the staff the night off and I posted signs that said everyone was to come down here.”

“Nice gesture.” Added Michael. “I appreciate that.”

“Well, we’re kinda competitors, but we’re kinda not. Seemed appropriate to move as much of South Street’s party to here tonight.”

“It seems to have worked.” Said Michael.

“I’m curious.” Asked Mitch. “How did you score Studio Gothic anyway, Rebecca?”

“Oh, you want to hear that story. Fair enough.” She said. “I showed up in Philly not long after you guys ran me out of Roanoke. I came with a lot of money. The Djinn and Mathias were, like most ancient kindred, really rich even if they didn’t look it. I wanted to invest it in something. I wanted to establish myself. So I started hanging in the clubs along South Street here.

“It started when I met Heather, a cute little Haverford student. We hooked up and she kinda showed me the ropes around here. Heather then introduced me to Venus, who ran Studio Gothic before me.”

Rebecca let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, I miss those two. Heather had this adorable little bubble butt on her and Venus…Oh, my God, she was just stacked. I mean huge.” She held her hands out from her chest to demonstrate. “So I hooked up with her too, as you might have guessed. With those two as my newest thralls, I got Venus to tell me who really owned the club. Turns out it was the Russian mob. Some guy named Orlov.

“Well, they didn’t take her blabbing their secrets very well. Sent some muscle after us. Poor Heather and Venus got caught in the crossfire.” She shook her head. “Damn shame. I liked the both of them. Anyway, I had my revenge. Got one of them to tell me where to find Orlov before I tore his throat out. So I went after him. A bit like Michael did with the Ninth, guns blazing, swords out, take no prisoners. Orlov got away, but I had the deed to the club and the accolades of the Prince for removing a persistent thorn in his side. Turns out this Orlov guy is a werewolf and a troublesome one at that. Been in charge of the club ever since.”

“Not quite the story I was expecting.” Said Mitch.

“No, but also no surprise given dear Becca’s gifts and talents.” Added Michael.

“Ruining Orlov gave all the prestige I needed to leverage one of the juiciest hunting grounds in the city. This used to be werewolf turf, South Street that is. Not anymore. And with that, everybody wanted a piece of me. Jimmy Dunn, the College, but I took Tiberius up on his offer and joined the Carthians. That didn’t make Walsh very happy, but too late.”

“Maybe Walsh wanted you for himself.” Offered Michael. “Can’t blame him.”

“Maybe, but I also have the reputation of killing Mathias so I think that scared him off.” Rebecca paused. “I wonder, given what Deb told us the other night. Maybe Walsh did know and he backed off because he knew I’d be in Monroe’s web.”

“Maybe. I’m afraid to ask.”

“Did I miss something?” interjected Mitch.

“Long story.” Said Michael dismissively. “And one best left to other venues to tell.”

“Hey, guys!” said Paul, joining them. “Did we miss the concert?”

“We’re doing an encore at midnight, but you missed the first set, yeah.” Said Michael.

Kathleen slithered up to Michael like a seductive snake. “Hello, gorgeous.” She hissed alluringly. Michael’s eyes grew big when he saw how she was dressed, but he gave her a gentle push away from him.

“Not tonight.” He said firmly, his usual answer to Kathleen when she was like this. He grabbed Rebecca by the hand. “Come on,” he said to her. “Let’s dance.” He then dragged her away from the bar.

But he didn’t lead Rebecca to the dance floor. Instead, they made their way to the back of the club and to the elevator to his office suite upstairs.

“Trying to get away from Kathleen, I take.” Said Rebecca as the elevator took them upstairs, a hint of disappointment on her voice. “I was actually hoping you were going to dance with me.”

“I just saw Sarah dancing with another woman. I just saw Kathleen wearing less clothing than should be legal. I just listened to you talk about two other women you’ve been with, describing their physical attributes in some imaginative detail.” He paused. “After all that, I am beyond horny. If I don’t fuck someone right now, I’m going to explode.”

“Oh, is that the kind of dancing you had in mind?” Rebecca purred. She moved in and gave him a passionate kiss.

“Besides, I missed out on having you and Deborah together the other night.” He fumbled under her skirt, discovering to his delight that she was almost as aroused as he was.

“That sounds like regret. You could have said no to Sarah.” Rebecca unzipped his pants and yanked them down.

“Not worth the fallout and you know it.” He replied. Rebecca gave him a gentle shove backwards and he landed on the office sofa with a mild thud.

“Well, maybe Lynne’ll get her to lighten up a bit.” She mounted him. “Damn, you weren’t kidding. You’re about as hard as I’ve ever felt you.”

“It’s fun to hear about your conquests. Fun to imagine you in the arms of someone else.”

“I know that’s one of your kinks, but I don’t like to talk about those two. They died because of me.”

Rebecca’s grim admission ended their conversation, and Michael focused on their lovemaking. His arousal was intense, driven not only by the things he’d mentioned, but the whole atmosphere of the night. Dozens of lovely young things in tight revealing clubwear. The pounding music. The success of their debut opening. All of it was like an aphrodisiac to Michael.

It didn’t take him long to reach climax and it came none too soon. He heard the elevator ding as Rebecca slid off of him. “Damn,” Michael growled. “It’s probably Kathleen come looking for me.” He jumped up and yanked his pants back up hurriedly.

But it was not Kathleen. Instead, who emerged from the elevator was Solomon and Julia.

“Well, this is a nice surprise.” Said Michael. “I wasn’t expecting you two tonight.”

“We have a problem.” Solomon grumbled.

“Do you ever relax?” complained Michael. “This is a night for joy and celebration. Not problems.”

“Seems you were celebrating just fine. I can smell you on each other.”

“I could say the same about the two of you.” Retorted Michael playfully. He knew, of course, that Solomon and Julia had become lovers. But Solomon was still conservative enough to find banter about that distasteful. He frowned in response to Michael's mirthful teasing.

Julia then took the lead. “Regardless, Solomon’s right and this really can’t be ignored.” She pulled her laptop out from under her arm. “After the Malleus started giving us trouble and after Boar reported his difficulties with the Abbey, I began following the Internet for hunter activity again. I turned up something just last night.”

“Show me.” Said Michael, mildly exasperated.

“There’s a Malleus thug looking for you and you specifically.” She opened the laptop and showed him the posts. “Knows a lot about you.”

“You ain’t kidding. How the hell does this guy know these things? My home city? My birthday? The rough date of my disappearance from mortal life? Who is this guy?”

“His name is David Hemingway.”

“Oh, my God…” said Michael in disbelief. Rebecca herself gasped at the name.

“You know him?”

“A ghost from the past. An old friend from our childhood.” Said Rebecca.

“David and I were best buds growing up. Church friends. In youth group together. He and I were into computers together, hacking, breaking copy protection on games, all kinds of mischief. Then he got a case of holier-than-thou-itis and it all fell apart. Then he moved away. I haven’t seen him since I was 15.”

“I had a crush on him.” Rebecca admitted.

“What the hell is he doing with the Malleus? He wasn’t Catholic. Hell, he was part that group of people in our church that when we said the creeds, they’d say ‘holy Christian church’ instead of ‘holy catholic church’ just because they didn’t want to have anything to do with Rome. He hates Catholics.”

“And you’re a far cry from the good little church boy you once were. Things change.” Observed Solomon.

Michael growled inarticulately. “Either way, we deal with this tomorrow.” He looked towards Julia. “Summon the others. The whole coterie. Boar, Mitch too. We’ll meet here tomorrow at midnight.”

Solomon shrugged and turned to leave. Julia followed. Michael paced the room, like a tiger in a cage.

“I’d forgotten about your crush on him.” He snarled at Rebecca.

“That was a long time ago.” Retorted Rebecca, rolling her eyes.

“You said you always loved me.”

Rebecca let out her breath impatiently. “And I also said that I was A) not a bastion of maturity and B) a mite afraid of your dark side. David was a hiccup, a momentary lapse of judgment. Like Shawn was.” She paused and looked at him disdainly. “Why are you angry about this? This is ancient history.”

Michael continued pacing. “Did I tell you I went back home? I spent a night in Charleston. I went to make some manner of peace with my past, with the mortal I once was. Eye opening experience.”

He continued pacing. “I wanted to be wrong.” He said after a long moment. “I wanted to be wrong about my father, my mother, my sister, everything. I wanted my Dad to be my Dad, a loving nurturing parent like he’s supposed to be. I wanted my memories of him as a rampaging bully with serious anger management issues to be nothing more than a bad dream. It wasn’t. He’s an asshole and always has been.

“My mother, same thing. No, she’s not the loving caring figure I needed. She was a coward, too worried about what the neighbors would think to stand up for herself or for her children. My sister, a sweet and innocent child? No, she grew up to be another vampire’s whore and given half a chance, she’d have fucked even me." He paused to gauge Rebecca's reaction. Her shocked countenance did not disappoint. "Yeah, that happened. For real.”

He resumed pacing again. “And now, Julia brings me word that my best friend growing up is a Malleus Malificarum hunter, one of their best. I wanted to be wrong about him too. No, he’s not really a sanctimonious little prick, vain, narcissistic, and thoroughly convinced of his own rightness. But that’s exactly what he is.

“They call us monsters. But at least we kindred are honest about being backstabbing bloodsucking fiends. Humans? Fuck the whole damn lot of them.”

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