Act Three Chapter Seven - A View to a Kill

Michael, Boar, Mitch, and Sarah made their way across Temple’s campus to the Sciences Building. Like many university buildings, it was open after hours, but only a handful of rooms were in use for evening labs and classes. Martin and Anna had arranged to use one of the larger rooms on the top floor for their own “study session” tonight, giving them enough space and privacy to demonstrate what they’d learned about the Dark Brotherhood’s new spirit magic.

As the elevator doors parted onto the top floor, Michael found his senses assaulted by a foul scent. The scent of death and rot. Something was wrong.

The others noticed only a brief moment after he did; Boar shifting immediately into wolf-man form. “One of them is here.” he growled.

“Fool kids must have summoned one by accident.” said Sarah nervously.

“I doubt this is what they had in mind.” said Mitch, drawing his gun.

Michael strode forward, his eyes darting about, looking for anything that seemed out of place. Outside of the pungent odor, the university hallway looked as normal as it ever did. But then a low throaty growl could be heard down a side hallway.

“This way.” said Michael quietly, motioning towards the sound.

“If it gets off this floor, it’ll kill everyone in this building.” said Sarah ominously.

“It can kill us just as easily.” reminded Boar.

Michael took the lead and headed towards the sound. At the end of the hallway, they could see the door to a classroom, one which had lights flickering chaotically under the crack of the door.

“For all its strength, it’s too stupid to know how to work a doorknob.” Michael joked out loud. That proved to be a mistake. The thing heard him.

The classroom door exploded outward, ripped clean off its hinges by the beast’s great strength. Michael was thrown off his feet by the door. The beast may not have known how to use the doorknob, but the door was in no way a true hindrance to it either. Roaring in rage, the creature bounded through the doorway into the hallway.

Mitch raised his gun to fire, but then hesitated. “Shit!” he snapped out loud. “That’s Anna.”

Michael came back to his feet and leaped upon its back. Despite his immense strength, Michael’s attempt to grapple it did little to slow it down. Boar rushed up and tried to tackle it. “If we subdue it, then what?” he yelled.

But subduing it was not going to be easy. With a powerful kick, the monster sent Boar flying upwards into the ceiling. He then dropped down onto the floor hard.

Mitch cast a quick incantation and fired a single shot with his gun. The bullet knocked loose one of the fluorescent lamps that lined the hallway ceiling and it swung down to smack the monster full in the face. The blow disoriented the monster for a second, distracting it from the stunned Boar at its feet. Boar took the time to shake off his stupor and jumped back to his feet.

“This is getting us nowhere.” said Michael. “It’s too strong for me to hold.” The beast grabbed him by his shirt collar and flung him down the hallway. He bowled into Mitch and Sarah and knocked them off their feet. Boar then moved in to grapple it again.

“We’re going to have to kill it.” Michael said, coming back to his feet. He cursed his folly of coming to this meeting unarmed.

“I’m not sure we can.” said Mitch, raising his gun hesitantly. “Besides, that’s Anna’s body it’s using. We kill it, we kill her.”

“Let me try.” said Sarah. “I cast Ernie out of Kathleen. I can probably do this.” She stepped forward, slashing her wrist with a fingernail to get the blood flowing, powering her own pagan magic.

Sarah locked eyes with the monster and it stopped wrestling with Boar to stare back. “Let. Her. Go.” Sarah said commandingly.

For an eternity the two simply stared at one another. Then suddenly, the beast’s head whipped back and it let out a howl of agony. A wispy form, like smoke, came out of Anna, circled about her for a bit and then vanished. After it did, the grotesque deformities the possession imposed on her body began to disappear. Within a few moments only Anna remained, looking as she always did.

“You did it.” said Michael to Sarah, both relieved and proud of his paramour.

“Yes, I...” Sarah collapsed. Michael caught her as she fell.

“Sarah!” he cried out. But she could not hear him. Her body showed the telltale signs of torpor. The strain of exorcism had been too great.

“Is she?” asked Mitch.

“Out for the time being.” said Michael grimly. “How’s Anna?”

Boar shifted back to human and kneeled down next to Anna. “She’s coming around.”

“Boar?” she asked feebly. “Where...what...”

“Careful. You’ve had quite an experience.”

“We can’t hesitate too long.” said Michael firmly. “Someone will have heard that battle, the gunshot, the door, all of it. The cops will be here any minute.”

“Where’s Martin?” Anna asked.

Mitch moved quickly to the shattered doorway. He hesitated before entering. “Oh, my God...” he muttered.

“What? What?” said Anna frantically. She came quickly to her feet, perhaps too quickly, and staggered over to Mitch’s side. She looked within and let out of a wail.

Michael and Boar then joined them to see what they saw. The classroom was covered in blood and offal. The beast had literally torn Martin to pieces.

Michael cocked his head. He could hear police sirens below. “Time to go.” He said to his companions.

“No.” said Anna, tears streaming down her face. “No.”

“No time for this.” said Boar, but not without sympathy. He hoisted the despondent Anna over his shoulder as Michael fetched Sarah. The five of them fled the nightmarish scene.

---

Michael stood silent, staring at the unmoving form of his love. Sarah was safely secured in his emergency haven in his office at Club CRASS. The memory of the night before, the horror that he’d witnessed at Temple’s Science Building, and Sarah’s sacrifice to save them all sat fresh in his mind.

“You’re going to drive yourself crazy staring at her like that.” Said Rebecca. “You know she’ll come out of it eventually.”

“Crazy is what I’m worried about. She’s had two torpors before that I know of and each time, her mind slips more into the madness of her bloodline.”

“She’ll be alright.” Rebecca reassured him. “We will take care of her. You love her. I love her. It will work out.”

“I wish I had your confidence. The more insane she becomes, the more Ernie tries to turn her against me. He wanted me to fall in love with her. He knew this would happen eventually and he’d get his claws in me.”

“If that’s your fear, then fucking Kathleen isn’t helping.”

“How did you know?”

“I didn’t. I just guessed. I know you. Too well perhaps.”

Michael sat down next to her on the sofa and put his head in his hands. Rebecca put her arms around him. “Come on. Don’t be too hard on yourself. I know that about you too. Too quick to blame yourself for that things that aren’t your fault and far too hard on yourself for the things that are.”

“How is this not my fault? I pushed novice mages into tampering with magic that was beyond them.”

“They volunteered.”

“I shouldn’t have let them. Now Martin is dead and Sarah in torpor because of my rush to gain allies and weapons against Walsh.”

The elevator door opened and Mitch emerged. “Figured I’d find you here dining on ashes.”

“And you’re going to tell me I deserve it.”

“If you do, then so do I. I pushed those two far too hard.”

“How’s Anna?”

“A complete wreck. All the more so because she spend the day with Philadelphia’s finest. They knew she was there and they questioned her all day long about what she saw.”

“Her DNA is probably all over Martin’s body. It was her hands that tore him apart.”

“Yeah, but the cops aren’t going to believe that a petite young woman like her could even remotely inflict bodily damage like that. The evidence won’t add up to any conclusion and they will make sure it doesn’t.”

“They?”

“I saw them. The ones they call Secret Keepers. They showed up part way through Anna’s interrogation. Walked in like no one could see them; I think I was the only one that could. Yellow robes. Masks. They cast some spells and then left. Not long after the police let Anna go. I took her home, slipped her a pill to make her sleep, and then drove down here.”

“Things are spiraling out of control if the Secret Keepers are working overtime.” Said Michael.

“Probably, but everything that’s happening works in favor of our enemies. The more fear they generate, the more convinced people become that Y2K will be the end of the world. The more they believe that, the more likely it becomes.” Mitch shrugged. “Maybe they’re not wrong. I thought I’d seen the worst of this world when we found Leigh that night. But what happened to Martin was worse. If this is what we’re facing, how are we going to stop it?”

“That’s enough from the both of you.” Said Rebecca forcefully. “We’re not beat yet and this war is a long way from over. You two collapse now and we might as well give up.”

“You didn’t see what we saw.” Lamented Mitch.

“Enough!” She repeated, more forcefully this time. “I know enough about what happened with Leigh to know that was the catalyst to drive you all to go after your enemies full force. You attacked Hiroshi Takagi in his own stronghold and killed him.”

“That was easy. We knew who to blame. Who to attack. This? One of our own did this killing; not in her right mind, but still. Who do we attack? Who do we avenge ourselves on?”

“Find someone and stop moping about. You’re both taking this way too seriously. Martin will hardly be the last casualty in this fight. Mourn him, yes, but don’t let that overwhelm you. He wanted to stop the Brotherhood. Well, let’s do that.”

“How?” asked Mitch.

“Back to the original plan. We get the Consilium to fight for us. And we get the Consilium to fight by convincing Zao he has no choice.” Michael stood up and went to his desk. He brought up the camera feeds on his computer. “We take out the Tongs.” He said, spying Phoebe on the dance floor below.

---

Elias Walsh stepped out of his limousine and headed inside the Philadelphia Federal Immigration Detention Center. Illegal immigrants from all the surrounding states were shipped here for processing and deportation. It was a massive facility, filled with hundreds of inmates and dozens of INS employees. It was also the hunting ground of Angelus Stirling.

Stirling was in the women’s section tonight. No doubt picking out his latest selections for his macabre harem.

“I thought I’d find you here.” said Walsh, walking up to Stirling.

“Prince Elias, what brings you to my domain?” Angelus was brief in his greeting, turning his attentions quickly back to the young Latina in front of him. Long hair, bright eyes, soft face, perhaps 16 years old.

“She’s a pretty one.” admitted the Prince.

“I agree.” Angelus turned to one of the guards, one of his bound thralls. “Take her and put her with the others.”

The girl, who apparently understood little to no English, only now realized what was to happen. As the guards took hold of her, she began to struggle and another woman inside a nearby jail cell began desperately to scream herself. Mother and daughter, Walsh guessed. The guards however were more than adequate to handle one frightened teenager.

“How many tonight?”

“Just three. I need to restock.”

“You are one sick bastard, you know that.”

“Envious, my Prince? Come now. We both know what our baser desires truly are. We are vampires. We are killers. Why hide it?”

“Because mortals outnumber us. You know the logic behind our Masquerade.”

“Ah, but what I do in no way endangers that. White folk are too used to believing themselves masters of the universe to long tolerate what I do. The police, the FBI, would all be on the hunt for the serial killer they would undoubtedly mistake me for being. Black folk are too much in the spotlight. Their neighborhoods are riddled with crime and the media is all too eager to tell every lurid tale to satisfy the racist fantasies of their viewers. But immigrants, especially illegal ones, no one cares about. They’re just anonymous wetbacks. Hell, even if the bookkeepers at this facility weren’t enthralled to me, they still probably wouldn’t care if a few went missing. The media sure as hell won’t report it. They’re nobodies. Hell, in some insane way, I treat them better than the system. I, at least, learn their names before I kill them.”

“You play a dangerous game. All it takes is one crusading reporter or advocate.”

“And they’ll be my next victim. But I doubt, my lord prince, that you came down here to discuss the finer points of my feeding strategy with me.”

“Roland Bishop died two nights ago.” growled the Prince.

“Your little errand boy? He was a nobody. Who would kill him?”

“The Malleus Malificarum, as it turns out.” Walsh’s voice had an edge of anger.

“Hunters are an indiscriminate tool.” Stirling waved Walsh off.

“And they’re your tool.” snarled Walsh, no longer hiding his rage. “They were supposed to be dogging Michael Allens and his Invaders. Not killing College vampires on the side.” Walsh’s tone turned imperious. “Reign them in. Get them back on track.”

“As you wish, my Prince.” Angelus replied obsequiously. Satisfied, Walsh turned and departed.

Stirling followed him out and got into his van. He signaled the driver to begin his journey and then looked back at the three lovely young things in the back. Their conditioning would begin tonight, but that wasn’t the best part of Angelus’ plans for tonight. No, tonight was Celestina’s night.

Angelus had murdered her sister last week and Celestina was begging that she be next. They always begged. The power of the thrall-bond was so intoxicating; it even drove out the core instinct of a creature to seek its own self-preservation. All they wanted was to please him and they pleased him most when they let him kill them. Angelus had gotten quite creative over the years. His whole lair was a monument to the art of murder. Some he strangled with his bare hands. Others he garroted or hung with a noose. Still others he drowned or stabbed to death. What he did not do was kill them by feeding. He drank their blood, of course, but death by exsanguination was too quiet for his tastes.

He had to admit it was no coincidence that he was the kindred in the College who worked most closely with the Malleus Malificarum. After all, they were the inheritors of the Inquisition and its legacy. Witch burnings and torture devices were once their bread and butter. Angelus had burned a few of his slaves to death, an homage in a sense to his allies, but he didn’t like that form of murder much either. He couldn’t get close enough to them. The flames were too dangerous.

The van made its way to Angelus’ haven. Upon arrival, Angelus stepped out as his thralls came out of his expansive Darby Township home. The thralls moved to secure his new acquisitions and they would handle them while Angelus busied himself with his other affairs tonight.

Angelus headed into the front door. He had barely removed his coat when Celestina bounded towards him with eagerness in her step. She was dressed in a white nightgown and had a rope noose dangling from her neck.

“Hello, master.” she chirped. “Tonight’s the night.”

Angelus took the end of the noose loosely in his hand, looking at it with curiosity. “So, is this your choice then?”

“Oh, yes, master.”

“What do you want to do?” Angelus said with a smile.

“I want you to murder me. I want you to strangle me to death with this rope.”

“The Dark Brotherhood think they’ve raised murder to an art form. Amateurs,” thought Angelus disdainfully. “For real brutality, you don’t go to a wizard. You find a monster.”

---

Michael handed Phoebe the glass of champagne. “Cheers.”

The naked redhead accepted his gift and drank. Michael paused, waiting for the tell-tale signs that his third offering of his blood had taken hold. He did not have to wait long. Phoebe smiled at him adoringly.

“So, I’m curious. How does a girl from Beckley end up working the streets in Philadelphia for the Chinatown Tongs?”

“Not the streets.” said Phoebe, taking another sip and sitting up. “I’m a club girl. There’s a difference.”

“Oh?”

“The Tongs have a hierarchy. At the bottom, where they put most of the black and Latino girls, are the phone sex operators and the streets. In fact, that’s how I got into this. I saw an ad for phone sex. operators. Figured that was easy work. Didn’t realize my employers had other things in mind.”

“You could have said no.”

“You don’t say no to these people. But I had an advantage. I’m white, so they made me a club girl. We work the bars and clubs on South Street, usually under the noses of the owners and managers. Unless they’re smart like your friend Rebecca or have made arrangements like you.

“On top of the heap are the massage parlor girls. Mostly Chinese, but all Asian. They get the best perks. Make the most money. But getting in isn’t easy. Lots of money and influence needed to get to them.”

“I get it.” said Michael. “But I’m more interested in you.”

“Well, I ran away from home. Tired of strict parents, a lousy boyfriend. I wanted adventure. Life in the big city. I was really on my way to New York, but I didn’t have enough money for the train ticket. So I settled on Philly. Arrived here. Lived on the streets for a month or so, in and out of shelters. Then I saw the ad. The rest is history.” She paused. “I wasn’t kidding about the ‘sugar daddy’ bit the other night. If you can get me out...”

“All in due time, dear Phoebe. First, I want your help in getting in.”

Phoebe looked at him quizzically. “I don’t follow...”

“Right now, I have a controlling interest in nearly every prostitution racket in North Philly. But I want the whole city.”

“And the Tongs are next on your list. I’m not sure what help I can be. I may be in the middle of the ranks, but I don’t know anyone of influence.”

“Could you get me into the parlors?”

“Maybe.” Phoebe thought for a moment. “Ai’ma. She’ll be the girl you’ll want to talk to. She works the Shanghai Salon.”

“Ai’ma? Doesn’t sound like much of a Chinese name.”

“Nickname, I think. Either way, she’s the sister of one of Tong’s head enforcers. Meet with her and she can direct you to who’s who. Everyone knows about her. She’s like the top girl in the business.”

“And appropriately expensive.”

“You pull off your scheme and she can work for you.”

“I like the way you think, sweet Phoebe.” said Michael, tapping his glass to hers. “Now get dressed. I’d like to introduce you to my ‘friend’ Rebecca, as you put it.”

“My pimp?”

“Tell these are further negotiations to get some of your girls back into Studio Gothic. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“I like the way you think, dear Michael.”

---

Brother Andre looked at his Bible. He was studying Daniel and wondering if the ancient book wasn’t, in fact, as the fundamentalists claimed a portent of these times.

“The Lord is most displeased, Brother Andrea.” Said a voice and the room filled with light. “I sent you to destroy monsters and the best you could come up with was a mere errand boy, a minion of no account.”

The Archangel stood before him and Andre dropped to his knees, bent low by the power of the being’s wrath. “Forgive me.” He muttered, “but Brother David…”

The door to Andre’s chambers flung open and David Hemmingway stood with his cross aloft. “In the Lord’s name, show your true form, monster.”

The light faded and where there was an angel there now stood an twisted old man. Angelus Stirling snarled at David. “Nice trick, witch hunter. I doubt any of your others will work on me. I’m no mere fledgling for you to trifle with.”

“I’ve fought more than one elder in my day, monster.” Said David, keeping his cross before him.

“So you’re the reason my pets have become so independent of late. The Grand Inquisitor of North America himself. I’m surprised to see one so young. You’re not even 30.”

“Old enough to have seen the extent of your kind’s evil upon the world.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” Angelus drew his broadsword from his belt and gave it a mighty swing. The cross in David’s hand fell in two pieces.

“My faith isn’t my only weapon.” David reached under his coat and drew out a small pistol-like weapon. With the flip of a switch, two arms snapped into place around the center, revealing the weapon to be a hand crossbow. He fired.

Angelus dodged, but not completely. The bolt struck home harmlessly in his right arm. “Nice try.” Snarled Angelus, raising his sword to strike a killing blow.

“Really?” said David without flinching. The bolt then exploded, not a large blast, but more than enough to sever the vampire’s arm. The sword clattered to the floor behind Angelus as the arm that held it turned to ash.

Angelus grabbed the stump and stepped back. “I can take you a piece at a time.” Said David defiantly, reloading the crossbow.

Angelus snarled, deciding discretion was the better part of valor. He bolted for the exit, calling the shadows to cloak his escape.

“He’s getting away.” Exclaimed Andre.

“He matters not.” Said David. “You’re free. We’re free. And now we can resume our hunt for Michael Allens unhindered by your former masters.”

---

The April air was brisk and windy, but Michael didn’t mind. He and Phoebe walked down South Street, taking in the early spring revelers.

“I don’t usually get this kind of freedom.” Said Phoebe with exhilaration. “Huang usually isn’t so trusting.”

“He knows a good thing when he sees it. You’ll be pulling in money like mad soon enough and if we get Rebecca in on the deal…”

“But that’s not really why we’re going over to Studio Gothic, is it?”

Michael chuckled. “No, I just want to show you a good time. Something that doesn’t require a bed and no clothing. My friends have been on me about taking life too seriously and they’re probably right. I need a night off and I’d like to spend it with you.”

“Huang will want…”

“You’ll make plenty off of me tonight, don’t worry about…” Michael didn’t finish his sentence. There was a deafening blast and the ground shook. Above them, the windows along the building shattered. Michael grabbed Phoebe and flung them both hard against the building as the glass rained down on the sidewalk.

“What the hell was that?” Phoebe asked.

“An explosion.” Michael explained. Panicked people began running down the street towards them, fleeing whatever cataclysm had just erupted.

“Michael, Studio Gothic!” Phoebe had no proof or evidence that was the target of this blast, but Michael’s mind went there the very moment the words escaped her lips. He gave her a brief hard look and rushed into the oncoming crowd.

Michael dashed up the street as fast as he could manage without giving away his supernatural nature. The people fleeing the blast gave him little heed and more than one was knocked off their feet by running into the determined vampire. Michael barely paused to register their fate, keeping focused on his destination.

Two blocks vanished behind him in less than a minute and now he could see the origin of the explosion. It was as they had feared. Studio Gothic was ablaze, the stone facade of its western wall little more than rubble. Above the still fleeing mortals around him, he heard another sound: automatic weapons fire.

Michael resumed his dash and cleared the remaining distance rapidly. He could now see four men climbing the rubble, firing off bursts from AK-47 assault rifles. They were killing the survivors, whoever they could find that the blast had not already murdered.

Michael did not hesitate. He dashed for the rightmost thug. With his speed, the man did not notice him rush up to him. Michael struck hard with his fist on the back of the man’s head, reaching out with his other arm to grab the barrel of the rifle. Stunned by the blow to his head, the man loosened his grip on the rifle and it came away into Michael’s possession. With a powerful kick, Michael knocked his foe forward onto the dance floor of the club, now littered with the bodies of the dead.

Michael tucked the weapon under his arm and finished off his initial foe with a quick burst. The others were now aware of his presence and were turning to face the new threat. The leftmost turned and ran, but the other two turned their weapons on Michael. Michael opened fire, faster by far than either of them. But as fast as he was, he could only kill the first of his new foes before the second got a shot off. Bullets tore into Michael’s undead flesh, knocking his momentarily off-balance.

Sensing an opportunity, his remaining opponent advanced and fired again. Suddenly, Phoebe appeared. She had followed him and somehow kept decent pace. Michael was about to warn her off, but she rushed forward anyway, the blood bond giving her foolhardy courage and a sense of invulnerability. The thug turned his weapon on her. Michael willed the blood to his limbs and rushed him with supernatural speed.

He bowled into his opponent before he could get his shot off, sending him flying. Without hesitation, he grabbed a bit of rubble and flung it at his foe. The piece of masonry struck him in the head with a dull crunch and he dropped dead.

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen anyone move that fast.” Said Phoebe.

“What the hell were you thinking?” snarled Michael angrily. “He could have killed you.”

“And he could have killed you. I couldn’t…I can’t…” In that moment, the adrenaline wore off for her and she dropped to her knees in a whirlwind of emotion. Hurt at Michael’s anger, fear at what nearly happened to her, and whole of host of others.

“I’m alright.” He reassured her. “And so are you. Try to stand. We need to find Rebecca.” Phoebe hesitantly came to her feet as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance.

Michael ditched his gun and began to scan the bodies. Some were still moving, injured and perhaps dying, but not yet dead. Phoebe did likewise, not quite knowing what to look for, but eager to help.

“There!” he called out and dashed towards the bottom of the rubble pile. She began to dig frantically. As Phoebe joined him, they could see the hand of a young woman poking out from under the debris.

A hand, not ash, so Rebecca was still alive. Michael let out a sigh of relief and dug more frantically. After a few seconds, they were able to pull Rebecca’s pulverized form from the ruin. By pure fortune, she was alive. Torpid, but still alive.

“We have to get out of here before the emergency crews arrive!” said Michael, hoisting Rebecca’s limp body onto his shoulder. He motioned for Sarah to follow and headed for the club’s back door.

“Surely, she’s dead already.” Said Phoebe, seeing no sign of life in Rebecca torpid form.

“No, this didn’t kill her. I’ll explain everything. Hurry.”

The back part of the club, where the chancel and altar would be were the club a real church, was surprisingly intact; the stone facade had absorbed more of the blast than the attackers had probably anticipated. The glass on the back door was only cracked, not shattered, and the employee vehicles in the back parking lot were largely undamaged. Most of the blast had gone westward down the street and left this place almost untouched.

Michael popped the trunk of Rebecca’s Corvette somewhat forcefully (He had no key to open it properly) and dropped her inside. Phoebe quickly picked the lock on the driver door and then began to work on hotwiring the car.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I’ve done a little joyriding in my day. Not a whole lot to do in Beckley, West Virginia as you may recall.”

“Well, there’s an easier way.” He said, fetching Rebecca’s spare ignition key from under the seat. He handed it over to her.

Phoebe rolled her eyes at him and started the car. Michael jumped into the now opened passenger door. “Go.”

“Not the first time I’ve led the cops on a crazy chase.” she replied, shifting the car into gear and racing out of the parking lot.

Phoebe navigated down the alleyways behind South Street and got them to Club CRASS’s back lot with only a few smashed trash cans and a terrified alley cat to show for it. Club CRASS was largely empty as they slipped in the back; most of the revelers within had emptied into the street to see what all the chaos was about. That worked to Michael’s favor as he spirited Rebecca upstairs to his emergency haven.

He opened the emergency haven, revealing Sarah within. He was thankful that Phoebe was now bound to him, otherwise this would have plenty of cause for her to freak out. He placed Rebecca next to Sarah and sealed the haven shut.

“What the hell is going on?” demanded Phoebe, now that urgency of the moment had passed at last. “Super speed. Dead, but you say she’s not. A little girl on ice in your office.”

“We’re not human.” Michael explained bluntly. “We’re vampires.”

“Like Count Dracula? Really?” replied Phoebe incredulously.

“You saw my speed. My strength. Know anyone else that can take three rounds from a battle rifle and keep moving as though nothing had happened?” He fingered the three holes in his shirt and coat. “But we do have our limits. Being buried alive like that has driven Rebecca into a state we call torpor. The other vampire in this compartment, the young girl, is in that state as well. They look dead, but they’re not.”

“How can you tell?”

“Because a vampire turns to ash when we truly die. If the body is intact, it will rise again in time.”

“So, I guess that means you’ll drink my blood and kill me.” She presumed nonchalantly. “Does that mean I become one of you?”

“Only if I choose it. And no, my dear, I’m not going to kill you. You’re far too much fun alive. And far too necessary to my plans. I need you to get at the Tongs.”

“So you won’t kill me.”

“We are all monsters, but some of us are less monstrous than others. Some of us actually like normal humans. They’re good for fucking and friendship. They make good bodyguards and servants. No, my dear, I think I’ll keep you around. All the more so because of what we saw tonight. Can’t afford to be wasteful with my allies in times like these.”

“The explosion and the men with guns. Why would someone attack Studio Gothic?”

“That’s a very good question and one I’d really like to know the answer to.”

---

Thomas Monroe walked with slow deliberate intent, taking the sights before him. Sprawled across the floor of his parlor was the naked flesh of over two dozen of his Borgia descendants, all busy with their carnal passions with one another. He smiled. This was what being an immortal monster was all about: decadence, pleasure, passion. No rules but your own. No morality but what your power dictates.

This was a monthly occurrence, this feast of lust. Monroe’s thrall family took one night a month away from their worldly duties to indulge themselves with one another. Guests were allowed, and often made up at least a third of the bodies writhing on the floor. They were the seduced saps found in bars and clubs by family members or local prostitutes and escorts paid for their attendance. None ever left the island with any memory of what they witnessed there. Monroe (and previously Dylan) saw to that. The selective editing of memories kept the island’s secrets safe.

There were only a handful of rules. The word “no” was largely verboten; no one could refuse an advance from anyone else unless the requester was the same gender or was asking for a sex act that might cause injury. Age was not a factor. This was part of the children’s “indoctrination.” This was where they learned.

Monroe smiled as he scanned the room, looking for which of his descendants or their guests he would see fit to violate tonight. His carnal hunger was only matched by his desire for blood; the ancient vampire took his fill from multiple prey on these nights. For him, it was a veritable banquet; all manner of pleasures were to be indulged on these nights.

He found his mark, a Borgia girl in her mid to late teen years: Ludovica’s eldest sister, Stefania, her belly already swelling with the fruits of another night like this one. Monroe undid the belt to his red velvet robe and let the garment fall to the floor. He moved forward to take her when the whole room shook.

The sound was like a loud bang, but not like a gun. It was deeper and strong enough to rattle the whole building.

“Grenade.” barked Dario. “The island is under attack.”

The whole writhing mass of people shot to their feet almost as one. There was another explosion and then another, followed by gunfire. Monroe could tell someone was trying to storm the island via the eastern pier.

“Men, to arms!” Monroe barked, trying to bring some order to the chaos. “Women and children to the catacombs. Follow me.”

“Your Holiness, who would dare?” asked Angela.

“Many would wish to, but few would try.” said Monroe. “We will find out.”

Next Chapter

Act Three Chapter Six - Spirits in the Material World

Brother Andre fidgeted nervously in his seat. David gave him an incredulous look.

“I am a pilgrim in an unholy land.” Mused Andre. The yacht club in Tinicum was busy, but not overly crowded. The two hunters were keeping a sharp eye while doing their best to blend in. David, it seemed, was having an easier time of that than Andre.

“Oh, please.” David grumbled. “This is a club and a restaurant, not a whorehouse. Given all the requirements the Church bestows on us for priesthood, I would think the one place a priest would be quite comfortable is a venue where people spend most of their time drinking. After all, it’s one of the few vices allowed us.”

“Yeah, but this is also a hunting ground for vampires.” Retorted Andre. “We’re baiting the lion in his own den.”

Their brunette waitress sauntered over. “So, what can I get for you, gentlemen?”

“Well, Angela…”

“It’s pronounced An-JAY-la.” She corrected.

“My apologies. I’ll have the fish and chips.”

Andre ordered the same, but as Angela was about to depart, David flagged her attention again.

“Say, Angela,” He pronounced it correctly this time. “we’re looking for someone. Someone who might patronize this establishment. Perhaps you could help us.”

“Maybe. This person has a name, I presume?”

“His name is Michael Allens, although he might be going by an alias. This is what he looks like.” David reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a photograph of Michael.

“Well, that is clearly our club here. In fact, I think I even see my tush on the edge of the photo here. But if he’s ever been here since that photo was taken, I can’t say.”

“Well, thanks anyway.” Said David. Angela then walked away.

“Dead end.” Grumbled Andre.

“Not if she’s lying.”

“And you think she is?”

“I do. She recognizes him. Subtle changes in her body language gave that away. And there’s a lot more to her than appears.” He wiggled his finger under his chin, as if pointing to his Adams apple.

“She’s a man?” Andre’s eyes grew wide.

“A transsexual almost fully transitioned. You almost can’t tell.”

“Freak.” Growled Andre disgustedly. “Still think we’re not in the devil’s playground here?”

“I never said we weren’t. As you pointed out, this is vampire hunting ground.” David glanced at the door. “And there’s one now.”

The man David was watching looked somewhat out of place in their environment. His grey hair was rather ragged and his aged face anything but handsome.

For his part, Roland Bishop wanted to be anywhere but that nightclub right now. He was not hunting, but had come to convey a message to Monroe from Walsh via Angela. This was not his environment. Not his territory. The vampire, who despite his aged appearance was relatively newly embraced, was also the grand-childe of Walsh via Didi Myers. Despite his pedigree, he was pretty low in the hierarchy, so running petty errands for his betters was pretty much his only opportunity for advancement.

Roland walked over to the bar and ordered a cocktail. When Angela ventured out of the kitchen with someone’s order, he gave a subtle nod to alert her to his presence. It was an action that did not go unnoticed by Roland’s Malleus observers.

“That explains the lies.” Whispered Andre. “The deviant is in with them.”

“Vampires use mortal servants all the time. Sometimes unknowingly.” Replied David. Andre did not miss the inference.

Angela delivered her meal and as she returned to the kitchen, she paused next to Roland. The aged-looking vampire reached into his coat and pulled out an envelope, handing it off to Angela. His task complete, Roland finished his drink and made for the door.

“Now what?” asked Andre.

“We follow the vampire.” David stood up and quickly gathered his coat.

“The vampire delivered a message to the woman. We’re more like to disrupt their society if we intercept it.”

“The slave is nothing. Only the vampire matters. Come quickly.”

The two of them dashed out of the establishment without paying. Roland had not gotten far as he was on foot. Because of the busyness of the night, he’d been forced to park further away than he might have liked.

Roland was also not unaware that he was being followed. His advanced vampire senses had picked up the two hunters almost immediately. He smiled. The fools!

Roland made a quick detour and made it obvious that he was doing so, darting down a side street and calling the shadows to hide him from his pursuers. David and Andre quickened their pace and turned the corner.

“He’s gone.” Exclaimed Andre.

“Many of their kind can turn invisible. Be wary. He may be waiting in ambush.” Warned David.

“How’d you guess?” said Roland arrogantly. He suddenly appeared behind them and lashed out with a hard left hook. Andre went flying.

David pulled out his cross and held it aloft before the vampire. Roland laughed.

“This ain’t the movies, boy. You have no idea what you’re dealing with!”

“Do I?” said David confidently. And then he began to pray.

Roland snarled and lunged forward, fangs bared. But the moment he took one step forward, he felt his skin begin to burn. “What the…” Roland began, surprised, but the pain soon became so intense he could not finish his sentence.

Andre came back to his feet, holding his arm and shaking off the stunned feeling from taking the full force of a vampire’s punch. “I think he broke my shoulder.” He lamented.

“Strike now!” said David, ending his prayer. The burning affect wore off immediately, but Roland staggered, momentarily disoriented while trying to shake off the last of the pain.

Andre yanked a hatchet from his belt with his good arm and took a mighty swing. The blow caught Roland in the neck, but did not cleave through. Roland’s eyes went wide as he realized too late these were no amateur hunters. He grabbed for his neck just as Andre’s second blow landed home. His head came loose and his body turned to dust in seconds.

“Well done.” Complimented David. “Now we’ve sent a message.”

---

“So, the direct approach.” Mused Solomon as he put his hand on the front door of Ernie’s cult’s church.

The old abandoned store front was decorated in painted flowers and other symbols and phrases, all of them speaking of peace, brotherhood, and love. It looked like a throwback to the 1960s hippie era. Solomon remembered Ernie’s cult in Roanoke and noted similarities. Some things, even with a madman, stay consistent.

The windows, while painted on the outside, were also blacked out on the inside, making it impossible to look inside. Nor did it allow sunlight to penetrate within. Another clue that a vampire was involved with these otherwise harmless-seeming fanatics.

“Best way to draw him out.” Reminded Julia. “We both agreed to this.”

“We may regret this.” He pulled the door open and walked inside. Julia followed after.

“Welcome! Welcome!” came the effusive greeting from a young man near the door. He was bare-chested and wore only a white linen shift below the waist. “Welcome to the Church of Eternal Truth.”

“Thank you.” Said Solomon awkwardly. He was taken aback by the man’s appearance.

“My apologies.” Said the man, recognizing Solomon’s discomfort. “While we are always eager to host visitors, tonight may prove to be a little much to the uninitiated.”

“You’re a sex cult, aren’t you?” said Julia bluntly.

“Cult is such an ugly word.” Retorted the man, “but yes, we celebrate the divine in our mortal bodies. It is as our esteemed Dr. Malenkov has taught. And since he is present with us tonight, it is fitting that we celebrate in this way.”

“Perhaps we should come back another time.” Said Solomon, his discomfort clearly growing.

“You are always welcome.” Said the man, his cheerful demeanor returning.

Julia frowned as Solomon made to retreat, but she followed him back out. Once they were some distance from the door, she spoke. “That was one of our best shots to confront Ernie.”

“Are you angry because of that or because I just denied you the chance to fuck half the room?” He growled in reply.

“I am NOT my sire.” Snapped Julia, growing angrier.

“Besides,” Solomon kept his voice even, trying to defuse the coming argument. “Confrontation was not our goal. We wanted confirmation and we got it. We know where to find him or at least his new powerbase. We can come back another time and hit him hard. Hit him where it hurts. Maybe drive him off for good.”

“Why don’t we try it ourselves? A bunch of naked cultists are hardly a threat to the two of us.”

“I’m not taking on Ernie without backup. Not without Michael and his werewolf and mage friends.”

“Why are you so afraid of him?”

“Because he’s a smart man.” Said a menacing voice behind them. They both spun about to find a somewhat regal looking man in an expensive suit standing before them. Black hair. Ice blue eyes. A black goatee. Julia had never seen him before, but she knew without a doubt this was Ernie.

“The beard is new.” Said Solomon, trying to keep his voice even.

“I’m glad you like it.” Ernie’s voice lost its menace. His reply seemed almost chipper. “I’m disappointed you didn’t stick around for tonight’s celebration. I’m sure you would have enjoyed it. You could have spread the word. Drawn Michael here. You know how he loves these sorts of things. Easy sex. Willing women.”

“You know Monroe will offer him much the same.”

“But Monroe doesn’t love him like I do.” Ernie sighed. “Oh, is there ever anything so sad as unrequited love?”

“Michael isn’t interested in what you offer, Ernie.” Growled Julia defiantly. “He doesn’t like the price.”

“Oh, really?” replied Ernie. “And yet, you did say Monroe is offering the same deal. I’m sure his price isn’t much different. Your sire is rather predictable, thinking with his crotch more than is wise. But I’m sure it’s such a beautiful crotch. If only I could just…”

“You can’t have him.”

“And you think you’ll stop me, young one?” Ernie locked eyes with her and Julia’s world exploded into pain. It was as if she’d been set ablaze by a fire beyond imagining. Her every nerve in agony. She screamed in mind for the sweet release of death, but it never came.

“Let her go.” Solomon demanded, moving to the now desperately twitching Julia lying on the sidewalk.

Ernie’s eyes moved to Solomon and he convulsed as the same attack came upon him. Ernie stood there for a few seconds and then released them.

“A small demonstration of my displeasure. It’s amazing what you can convince a mind to believe is real when you have such open access to it. Leave me. Go back to Michael and tell him the longer he holds out against me, the greater my wrath will be against those he loves most. Tell him what I did to you. Tell him everything.”  With that, Ernie turned and departed.

---

“Well, this is the place. Where’s Boar?” Martin moved about impatiently.

“Calm down. He’ll be here.” retorted Anna, impatient herself with Martin’s fidgeting.

The nearby brush rustled and a black wolf emerged. “Please tell me that’s you.” said Martin.

The wolf did not speak, but gave a tilt of its head and a quick bark like a dog.

“I’m guessing you can’t talk, but you can understand us.” said Anna.

Boar nodded. He then motioned his head, as if to imply they should follow. He then headed off further into the woods. The two mages followed.

They had chosen to meet within Fairmount Park, roughly a mile from St. Agnes. It was midday and the sun was shining brightly in the sky above. Martin and Anna weren’t entirely sure why Boar had chosen to meet them shapeshifted like this, but they presumed there would be a good reason.

After a while following the deer paths through the woods, they came upon a clearing. Across the clearing, they could see the burned out ruin of St. Agnes chapel. Standing near the chapel were two men in police uniforms. The two took cover as Boar began to sniff the air.

“Those aren’t our monsters.” said Martin, stating the obvious.

Boar shifted into human form. “No. They’re probably Brotherhood allies. Hired thugs dressed up like rent-a-cops to allay suspicion. But one of those things IS here. I just can’t tell where.”

“Inside.” guessed Anna, “probably kept there until needed.”

“This stinks of a trap.” said Martin. “Just two normal guards and one hidden monster. It would be way too easy for your pack to hit this place again.”

“Agreed. The Ridden is intimidating, but a single one could not stand against my wolves.” said Boar. “Something else is going on here.” He shifted back into wolf form and began to encircle the clearing, keeping behind the tree line.

The three of them made their way around the clearing. As they did so, they drew closer and closer to the actual building of St. Agnes, while still remaining reasonably hidden. The two rent-a-cop guards seemed bored and did little more than look up for a second or two when either Anna or Martin would stumble or break a twig. If either of them sensed they were being watched, they didn’t act like it.

Once Boar reached a point along the edge where he was only thirty or so feet from the wall of St. Agnes, he shifted back again and motioned for the two mages to draw closer. They peaked over his shoulder to see what he was seeing.

The fire had blown out most of the chapel’s old stained glass and Brotherhood had not bothered to replace them. Inside, the Brotherhood had cleaned things up somewhat, but the walls and floors were still badly scorched. Five sleeping bags lined the floor, three of which were occupied.

“Late sleepers.” whispered Martin.

“Mages.” said Anna. “I can feel their power.”

“You always were better at that than me.”

Chained to the far wall was one of the beasts. It was largely motionless, although it would test its bonds periodically with a grunt and a snarl. It was not going anywhere. Next to it was a wooden box; within, the three observers could see two round objects that appeared to be a conglomeration of bone, offal, and other miscellaneous organic matter. The stench from them could be smelled back where the trio were sitting.

“What the hell are those things?” asked Martin.

“Spirit fetishes.” said Boar, in before Anna. “Probably used somehow to summon the possessing spirit.”

Anna waved her hand in front of her face and stared intently at the chained monster. “I’m not sure they’re necessary. I can see the spell’s pattern. It’s not that complicated.”

“Can you unravel it?” asked Boar.

“Can you teach me to do it?" added Martin. "And Mitch?”

“Perhaps.” said Anna, turning to her boyfriend. “But I’ll need someplace to work. To experiment. To practice.” She paused and turned back to Boar. “I’ve seen enough. Thank you. I think we’ve got this.”

“Good. The more we know, the better off we’ll be. Let’s get out of here.” He began to retreat back into the woods.

---

Michael pulled his cup of coffee from the brewer in his office and made to sit down at his desk when the elevator opened. He looked up to see Rebecca enter.

“Taking a break from all the excitement at Studio Gothic?” he said with a smile.

“I’m not the one who needs to take a break.” she teased. “You’ve been so preoccupied with these monsters the Dark Brotherhood have cooked up that you’ve forgotten to keep your eyes open to other opportunities.” Without any further explanation, she moved behind him and tapped a few keys on his computer to bring up the camera feeds from the dance floor below. Rebecca then zoomed in on one young woman in particular, sitting casually at the bar.

“You know her?” Michael asked.

“Sort of. Not long after I took over Studio Gothic, I noticed a group of women, different one every night, that were beginning to frequent the club. There was always at least one of them every night, sometimes two. They all bore the same tattoo on their right arm, a series of Chinese characters on the inside of the forearm. I don’t read Chinese, of course, but I recognized the pattern. The same on each of them.”

“Sex slaves.” guessed Michael.

“Tong prostitutes.” amended Rebecca. “They were trying to run their little racket out of my club. I chased them off. Now that you’ve been open for a few months, I’m guessing they’re doing the same. This girl has the same tattoo. I noticed it when I stopped at the bar to talk to Boar a few minutes ago.”

“I’ve got feelers all over the city looking for dirt on the Chinese syndicates and one of their own walks right in my door.” Michael chuckled at the irony.

“You know the mob. Chinese, Italian, whatever. They’re always looking for new markets, just like any business. Club CRASS is fertile ground for eager young men and women looking for a quick thrill.” Rebecca turned off the screen and looked at Michael intently. “You can guess she doesn’t know too much and that there’s a minder nearby somewhere in the crowd. But it is something.”

“It is. Seems I need to have a conversation with this charming young lady.”

“I thought you might.”

“That’s not the reason you came by.”

“No. I haven’t seen you or Sarah for at least a week. Things have been so busy for the three of us. I hoping to get some time tonight.” She motioned towards the blank screen. “But that’s a chance you don’t want to miss. Is Sarah around? I imagine we can find something to do with ourselves.”

“She’s downstairs. Surprised you didn’t see her when you spoke to Boar.”

“I’m guessing you’ll want your office for more intimate negotiations. We’ll find something to do and someplace to be.”

“Thank you. A foursome is probably a little much for our little delicate Tong girl.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate her, but probably not a good idea for the first time. Come on.”

---

Michael emerged from the elevator with Rebecca to the blasting music from the DJ. It took a second for him to adjust to the sudden sensory overload but then he began scanning the bar for the Tong woman. The bar had gotten more crowded since Rebecca had turned off the camera feed, but Michael could still barely make out the woman amidst the crowd.

“Girl” might have been a more apt description. She was definitely trying to bridge that divide between innocent child and sultry adult, selling herself as both at the same time like many teen prostitutes did. He guessed she was 17 or 18, far too young to be inside a nightclub like his. Someone, her pimp perhaps, had arranged for her to get past the bouncers outside.

As he watched her, he realized with a chuckle exactly why Rebecca had picked her out from within the busy nightclub crowd. White girl, dangerously young, short at maybe 5 feet in height, buxom with red hair. Pretty much the whole package that really turned Michael on. Rebecca knew him all too well.

“See ya.” Rebecca whispered in his ear. “Have fun.” She then departed towards the far end of the dance floor where Sarah had parked herself for the night.

Michael nodded and approached the prostitute. She noticed his advance and turned towards him. There was a brief flush of anxiety on her face, undetectable to anyone but a vampire. She knew who he was. Michael smiled pleasantly in an effort to calm her.

“Hey,” he said casually as he strolled up to the bar next to her. The crowd at the bar was thinning again, so he took a seat on the stool beside her.

“Hi.” she said. A hint of a familiar accent. She was definitely not from Philadelphia. Could it be?

“You ain’t from ‘round here, are ya?” said Michael, amplifying his own normally-subtle West Virginia twang to comical levels.

The girl laughed. “Gave myself away, didn’t I?”

“Not too many here would be able to tell. You’re a West Virginian?”

“Born and raised in Beckley. Came to the big city to find my fortune.”

“Charleston and I came here for the same reason. My name’s Michael.”

“I know,” she said, her initial nerves now calmed, “you own this place. I’m Phoebe.” She shook her head. “I would never have realized you were from down home.”

“I don’t advertise it.” Michael took a moment to take her in. Yeah, she was cute and her club wear dress left little to the imagination. Bare shoulders and midriff. Nice little gem piercing in her navel. Probably no panties under that skirt, he guessed.

She noticed his attention and a nervous smile crossed her lips. She was new at this, not quite seasoned enough to hide her anxiety. Michael decided to be blunt.

He reached over and ran his finger across her right arm, right where the tattoo that Rebecca had spotted was. “I’m guessing your time in the big city did not work out quite as you intended. Fell into the wrong crowd, I see.”

Phoebe’s face flashed with panic. “Don’t panic.” Michael said quietly but firmly. “Don’t worry about that pimp who brought you here. Act casual. I’m not doing to do anything.”

“Most club owners don’t like us working their turf.”

“Maybe I’m the exception. Maybe I can give you an exclusive right to my place.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Well, you’re a fellow mountaineer. And you’re fucking cute to boot.”

Phoebe chuckled, her nerves relaxing again. “I’m guessing this deal involves a free sample.”

“Well, I need to know that what I’m offering my clientele is worth the price.”

“Where can we go?”

“I know just the place.”

---

Phoebe rolled over onto her belly, allowing Michael to admire her curves from behind. He ran his finger playfully up her spine and chuckled when she shivered. “You’re still doing it to me.” She teased. “I just stopped twitching from that final orgasm and you get me going again.”

“Sorry.” lied Michael.

“You’re not like most of my clients.” she admitted. “They usually only care about how good they feel. Don’t give a damn about me. To them, I’m just a whore. A piece of meat. But you...”

Michael smiled devilishly at her comments. The real seduction had begun. Not to sex, that was already well accomplished, but to her willing participation in his schemes. “Well, let me tell you a little secret. What turns me on is seeing a woman really into me. Get her howling my name. In order to do that, I have make you feel like you’re having the best night of your life.” He gave her a quick hug and then stood up. He walked over to the sink next to his coffee maker and poured a glass of water. He pricked his finger and let a few drops fall in.

“Oh, thanks. I think all my moisture went down south. I could use a drink.”

“Well, I poured this for me, but since you insist...” He teased. He handed her the glass and she drank, not noticing anything amiss.

“So now what?” she asked him, handing the glass back.

“I’m getting to that.” Michael sat down at his desk, opened up the safe beneath it and pulled out several hundred dollar bills.

Seeing what he was doing, Phoebe spoke up. “I thought this was for the deal to use your club to pick up johns.”

“It is, but it wouldn’t be fair to send you out of here empty handed. Besides, I want to make sure your pimp agrees to this deal too. You hand him some of this and he’ll come around.” Michael walked over and handed Phoebe the money. “You can work my club, but only you. No other girls from your syndicate.”

“If you’re planning to steal me away every night like this, he won’t like that. Although I suppose if you pay, it won’t matter.”

“And you? What do you think?”

“I’d love it. You make me feel like that again and you can be my sugar daddy any day. Fuck the Tong.”

“We’ll see about that later.” Michael thought to himself. “Yeah, I could see me with a new harem with Phoebe as my #1 like Sammy was.” He spoke aloud next. “Let’s keep those ideas to ourselves, shall we? For now, you get my club all to yourself.”

“Alright. And I get you from time to time, I’m guessing.”

Michael smiled an affirmative to that. “Time to get dressed. I’m sure your minder is wondering what became of you.”

“I flash $500 in his face and he won’t care.”

“Good. I’ll see you later then, sweet Phoebe.”

---

Michael escorted Phoebe back to the club. By now, it was close to last call and things were winding down. After getting off the elevator, Michael paused to give her a quick peck on the cheek and then sent her off. He scanned the club, making note first of the man Phoebe walked towards and then looking for his crew. To his surprise, he saw Sarah and Rebecca chatting with Mitch and Boar by the bar. He walked over.

“Mission accomplished?” asked Rebecca.

“So far.” Michael said. “And you? I’m surprised to see you two here again.”

“We went hunting. Found two drunk frat boys. A couple of blow jobs later and they were putty in our hands.”

“Rebecca had to talk me out of killing mine.” growled Sarah. “He was a secret pedophile.”

“You must have been his lifelong ambition.” teased Michael.

“Not funny.” said Sarah. “He’s going to hurt someone someday.”

“Be that as it may, but we can’t risk pissing off Walsh right now.” reminded Rebecca. “Don’t forget he’s got an army of possessed monsters to throw at us.”

“Speaking of that, any word from our magician friends?” said Michael, changing the subject.

“Nothing since earlier tonight.” said Mitch. “Anna’s working on it. She thinks she’ll have something in a couple of days.”

“Good,” said Michael, his eye watching Phoebe and her pimp as they walked out of the club. “The pieces are falling into place. A weapon against the Brotherhood and soon hopefully something to motivate the Consilium out of its complacency.”

---

“Alright, our vampire friends aren’t going to be here for at least another hour. Why did you ask me here early?” Martin grumbled.

“Because I’m ready for a practice run and I need a stooge.” Anna teased with a grin.

“I get it. No sense trying to sell our vampire friend something that we can’t deliver on.”

“Exactly.” said Anna. “We’re still under censure. We need allies. Even if the one creeps me out.”

“Yeah, Michael’s eyes are a little too eager. But I don’t think Mitch will let him off his leash.”

“Who holds that leash and who’s on the other end of it, I often wonder. Does Mitch call Michael’s shots or the other way around?”

“Considering that we mages are immune to the vampire’s power of blood enslavement, I’d say it’s a little of both. That said, I suspect Michael won’t do anything to alienate Mitch. So a lustful glance is all you need worry about from him.”

“I’m not so sure. I’m not too keen on becoming one of his midnight snacks.”

“While I’m sure he’d fuck you given half a chance, I doubt highly he’d want to kill us. Novices or not, we’re too much trouble to try to murder.”

“You’re a little too trusting, my lover. He is a vampire, never forget that. We need to offer him something better. Make ourselves useful.”

“I think we already are. So, about this test run, what do you have in mind?”

“I got a good grasp of the spell pattern the Brotherhood is using on their Ridden. I’m going to try to duplicate it on something weak, something we can handle easily. Let it possess you and then try to unravel the spell so it gets kicked out.”

“Ok, that sounds a little more risky that what I thought you might do.”

“Don’t panic. The spirit should be weak enough that you can kick it out of your own head. I just want to make sure this is going to work.” She gave him a coy smile. “I wouldn’t put us in danger. You should know me better than that.”
“Yeah, but didn’t you already do this once? You exorcised Tucker’s bodyguard on campus that day.”

“That was part luck and part throwing every bit of power I could muster into that spell. I’m not sure I could duplicate what I did that day and it  doesn’t help us if I or any other mage has to take an hour nap after we exorcise one of these monsters. We can’t afford the downtime. We’ve got to find a way that works with less effort and more consistency and I think I’ve got one.”

“Alright. I see your point. Let’s try it.”

“If it works, not only will we have something to show off to Michael when he shows up, but we might have a bargaining chip to get us back in with Zao and the Consilium.”

“Good point.”

“Alright, I’m going to summon up a minor spirit. Let see how this goes. As I said, it should be weak enough for you to expel it on your own.”

“It’d better be. I’m not keen on being the star of Exorcist V: Anna Fucked Up.” Martin smiled through his own joke.

Anna began her incantation, drilling a small hole into the Gauntlet and making an invitation to the spirits beyond. But she felt a surge of power and immediately realized her mistake. As weakened as the Gauntlet had become, the metaphysical hole she’d punched into it gaped wide open. Something was coming through; something far bigger than she had anticipated.

Anna immediately cut the spell short and began to work undoing the damage she’d done. Martin realized something was wrong almost instantly. He cried out, but his voice was indistinct and distant. Why was he so far away? Then Anna realized to her horror. The spirit she’d summoned hadn’t gone to possess him. It had taken over her.

And that was the last thing she remembered.

Next Chapter