Michael knew Cortez could not risk a wide search for Boar in Gansh territory, so he told the werewolf to return home. Now it was the next night and still no word. Michael was growing worried.
It was only then that Michael noticed the emergency haven was open. He stood up and checked it. No sign of Rebecca within. She’d clearly awoken and gone out to feed in the time it had taken Michael to drive to Club CRASS from his apartment in Conshohocken.
“Well, at least some good news.” Michael thought to himself.
The elevator doors parted and Sarah emerged with Rebecca in tow. “Look who I found downstairs.”
“Welcome back to the land of the unliving.” Said Michael with a grin. “I do hope you’ve not left one of my regular customers minus a couple of gallons of his blood.”
“No, but Philadelphia’s finest will be fishing one of the homeless from the Delaware in a night or two.” When Michael frowned, Rebecca continued. “Be thankful I awoke with enough of myself intact to know not to assault a club full of party goers. You probably need to rethink your emergency haven’s location.”
“Noted. How do you feel now?”
“Better. Sarah told me what’s happened since I went out. I saw my club while I was dragging a corpse to the river. Who?”
“Ernie, in cahoots with a werewolf arms dealer named Orlov.”
“I’ve heard of him. He’s a troublemaker from a long time back.”
“Boar is helping us track him down, but hasn’t reported in yet.”
“And you’re worried. I can see it on your face.”
“The body count is rising. I’d rather not add Boar to that list. Martin, a slew of Monroe’s perverse thralls…” he began.
“…and Audrah and Adrianna.” Finished Rebecca. “Sarah told me the police fetched them from under the rubble. Ernie’s bloodied my nose too and killed two of my favorite blood dolls, along with over a dozen of my best customers.”
“Solomon flushed Ernie from his nest last night.” Michael’s frown indicated more to the story.
“Why the long face then?”
“He’d cleared out already. The place was empty.” Answered Sarah. “Which means…”
“…that he’s here in the city. Wonderful.”
Rebecca flopped down on the sofa. “I go into torpor for two weeks and the world goes to hell. Any good news?”
“Yeah, you’re back.” Said Michael, darting in for a kiss. “Ernie tried to destroy us, but we’re still here. All three of us.”
“That sounds like an invitation.” Said Rebecca with a sly smile.
“Beats sitting around waiting for Boar to call.”
“We could play a game.” Said Sarah. “You could be the Mommy and Daddy and I could be your little girl that you molest together.”
“That’s a mite creepy.” Said Rebecca.
“This is Sarah’s new thing.” Explained Michael. “She’s figured out I like them young…”
“…which you do.” Admitted Rebecca.
“That’s the third time you’ve finished someone else’s sentence tonight.”
“Don’t change the subject. So, you play predator to her prey?”
“I’m not all that keen on playing along, doubly so since I know that’s how she lures in her real prey.”
“What’s wrong, Michael? Don’t you want me to just eat you up?” said Sarah with a toothy grin.
“Am I supposed to be predator or prey here? Doesn’t the larger gobble up the smaller?” Said Michael. “I think you’re getting your roles backwards.”
Sarah paused for a second to consider that, and then smiled. “Caught you thinking about it.” She accused playfully.
“Would you just stop!” Michael grumbled.
“He complains about it, but you should have seen him the other night.” Said Sarah to Rebecca. “I think I’m still sore from the ramming he gave me.”
“This really turns you on, doesn’t it?” Rebecca asked Michael, curious to discover a side of him she’d not known.
“Don’t you start too!”
“I haven’t had a good ramming in a couple of weeks.” Rebecca stood up and walked over to Michael. She wrapped him in her embrace and glanced over her shoulder at Sarah. “You know, she’s there for the taking, dearest. All innocent and vulnerable.”
“I can’t believe you want to play along.”
“It’s just the three of us. Our little game. No one else need know.”
“This is not a side of me I want to indulge.”
“Safer here with us.”
“Which is what I told him.” Interjected Sarah. “And, as for indulging, you caved in pretty easily the other night.”
“Don’t mock me!” Michael snarled, his anger growing.
“What are you afraid of, Michael?” said Sarah, her tone now serious. She marched over to Michael and stared him straight in the eye. Rebecca backed away. She’d seen this side of Sarah before and decided to take a spectator’s role from here on out.
“Of becoming a monster.” Michael answered candidly.
“A mite late for that. You’re a vampire, remember? A murderer, a killer. How is this worse?”
“I don’t murder innocents.”
“There’s a Temple cheerleader who would beg to differ…if she wasn’t dead. I doubt she’s the only one. In fact, I know she isn’t. There’s always Kris. And Leigh and her son.”
“They died by the hands of others.”
“And would they have had you not entered into their lives? We draw death wherever we go. I buried my mother and sister. They were doomed the moment I was embraced.”
“And how is this supposed to help your case? Reminding me of how I endanger people I care about isn’t exactly persuading me to pretend you’re the little girl you look like and fuck your brains out.”
“You are what you are, Michael. You don’t want to hurt innocents. I get that. But you have. And I’m not an innocent. I’m not a child. I’m an adult trapped in a child’s body, a body you have fucked countless times already. Why is this different?”
“It just is.” Said Michael. “It isn’t right. It toys with taboos that…”
“You are not going to hurt me. You are not going to frighten me. We love you, Michael. We trust you.”
“No.” With that, he turned and headed to the elevator.
---
Salvador Ortega flinched back from the bars. The touch of silver burned him at his every attempt to escape their prison. The pain was intense, part of the curse of being a werewolf.
“Hollis may not have bought us a lot of time, but we do have some.” Said Boar in the secret language of werewolves. “And we’re running out of it.”
“What do you think I’m trying to do? These soldiers know our kind too well.” Replied Ortega with annoyance.
Boar shook his head. “Time to take the plunge. Only way out.”
“What do you…”
Boar shifted into dire wolf form and slammed himself hard against the cage door. Weaker than steel or iron, the silver bars were not strong enough to resist the strength of a bear-sized wolf and they gave way.
The guard by the door raised his rifle as Boar burst loose. Boar scrambled on the concrete floor, both the slippery surface and his bulk conspiring to keep from finding grip. The guard opened fire, a quick three-round burst. Two of the silver rounds tore into his side, but Boar found his footing and he tore at the guard. He slammed into the soldier hard, knocking him into the wall and stunning him before he could shoot again. A blunt blow from his paw put the guard down for good.
Boar shifted back to human form, bleeding like a stuck pig, his skin burned in several places from where he’d touched the silver bars.
“Jesus, Boorman, that was gutsy.”
“Only way.” he gritted through his teeth as he fetched the cage keys from the guard and moved to Ortega’s cage. “...got to get you out.” He said, his speech becoming slurred as unconsciousness threatened. He fumbled with the lock and then pitched over.
Ortega snatched the keys from the floor and unlocked the cage, braving the burning touch of silver himself. He quickly unlocked the other cages and freed his pack. He paused at Hollis’ cage. “I should leave you for your treason. But, as I said about Orlov, it is not for mortals to judge our kind. You come with us to face judgment.”
“I saved the pack, whether you care to acknowledge it or not.”
Ortega turned to Boar. He shifted to dire wolf. “Put him on my back.” he growled in the werewolf tongue. “We’re getting out of here.”
---
The late April air was brisk and windy, but Michael didn’t mind. After leaving Sarah and Rebecca, he’d walked down South Street, taking in the spring revelers and looking among their number for someone perhaps to feast upon, hoping it might distract him from the turmoil in his mind.
So far, he’d not had much luck.
“Damnit, Sarah. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be this way. I don’t want to even flirt with it or toy with it or play games with it. This is a part of myself I’m ashamed of, that I hate. Why keep rubbing salt in that wound?” Michael growled in his mind.
Michael reached the construction barriers that now surrounded Studio Gothic. The bombed club had been found to be still largely structurally sound and so could be repaired and rebuilt. Rebecca’s insurance company was pouring money into completing those repairs, although no one expected the work to be done for several months. Still the work had begun and it was moving apace. A good sign that things might return to normal at some point.
“It’s looking good.” Said Sarah, sneaking up behind him.
He glared at her and said nothing. She sighed. “I feel like we’ve been down this road before. At the very start, when I first propositioned you all those years ago in Norfolk.”
“You knew my proclivities then, didn’t you? Is that why you propositioned me?”
“I propositioned you for a lot of reasons. I knew you’d find me attractive, whether you wanted to admit to it or not. But I also knew your true nature. I saw a man with a desire to do good, in spite of being a vampire.”
“Then why aren’t you encouraging that side of me?”
“Because I don’t have to.” Said Sarah confidently. “You fear that toying with this part of yourself, which in all honestly you’ve already done by being my lover for all these years, is going to unleash something in you that will harm people. But I don’t believe that. There are a lot of ways you may harm innocents unavoidably as a vampire, but this isn’t one of them.”
“I don’t have your confidence. Seeing as I’ve apparently made a habit of seducing teenagers for years now.”
“In order to feed. Not exactly harmless. Yet, very few of those have died. You’ve restrained yourself. And you’ll do so again.”
Michael turned back to the ruins of Studio Gothic. “Too bad it’s not open. Hunting among its clientele would help with such restraint.”
“I’ve got an idea.” said Sarah.
“Go back to Club CRASS and try my luck there?” retorted Michael sardonically. Michael was reluctant to hunt too frequently in his own club, fearing drawing hunters to his domain.
“No, we should find ourselves a roller skating rink and prowl it for a few nights.”
“A place for teenagers and kids? Not funny.”
“You need proof that I’m right. Let’s put my theory to the test. Let’s place you in the midst of a whole slew of kids and young teens. Raging hormones and pumping blood. A veritable feast for your desires and yet, I am confident that you will restrain your impulses.”
“That’s playing with fire.”
“I disagree. Make a bet with me.” She held out her hand in expectation with a handshake.
“And what do I get if I win and you’re wrong?”
“Name anything.” She said confidently. “I know you and I know most teens. Raging hormones or not, they’ll likely be enraptured by a mere kiss. You won’t need anything more.”
“Any such roller rink is likely in the hunting grounds of another kindred.”
“You worry too much. Come on. It’ll be fun.” Her hand was still proffered.
“Alright, I’ll take your bet.”
---
Boar snapped awake. He found himself on a cot in what appeared to be a tent. He tried to sit up and pain shot through him. He touched his injuries, finding them bound in bandages with herbs and other plants tucked underneath. Werewolf healing magic.
Ortega peeked into the tent. “I see you’re awake. How do you feel?”
“Like death warmed over.”
“No surprises there. You have silver burns on your face and shoulders and two bullet wounds from silver in your gut. You’re one tough son of a bitch.” Ortega sat down on the end of the cot. “You’re not even a full moon either.”
“No, I was born under a half-moon. The diplomat, the one who stands in the middle. I’m not a warrior.”
“And yet, you fought like one...for a pack not your own.”
“I wasn’t going to leave your wolves to die at their hands.”
“And yet, you wanted me to turn over Orlov to them.”
“Loyalty goes both ways, Ortega.” said Boar. “Orlov shows you none. His obsession with the vampires is all that matters to him. He’s already killed all those people at Studio Gothic and only God knows how many more his arms sales will murder before this is done. TFV soldiers bearing down on us is proof that he’s sold you out. They won’t be the last of the witch hunters who’ll be swarming over this city in the months to come. How many wolves will die to them before this is done? I don’t know.” He paused. “I guarantee Orlov doesn’t care.”
“By now, those soldiers will have taken care of Orlov. They don’t strike me as the inefficient type. I suppose this will all be moot.”
“Good. One less pain in the ass for us to deal with. Let’s hope they find his arsenal before more people die.”
“You care a lot about mortals.”
“I used to be one.” Boar said. “It wasn’t all that long ago when I found out I wasn’t one. Yeah, I have a soft spot, and you know who else does? People that would slaughter us in a heartbeat. Best not to give them any extra reasons to. If Orlov’s customers keep killing, more of us are going to die for it.”
---
Michael rubbed his face absentmindedly. He missed the tiny blond beard that normally sat there, now shaved off so he could effect a more baby-faced look in this setting. He tested his feet. He’d not skated, ice or roller, since high school and he wasn’t sure how well he’d keep upright. Falling on his ass might be embarrassingly charming however, so maybe being inept at something as a vampire might not be a bad thing.
Sarah rolled over to him, confident and looking every bit the part of a punk middle schooler. A long sleeved shirt and tight leggings covered up her tattoos nicely. Still, she’d done her best to still look sexy for the teenaged crowd; her nipples poked out from underneath the cloth of her shirt, showing that she should have worn a bra but deliberately did not. All bait for whatever unfortunate fellow Sarah meant to nab.
The Friday night crowd at the roller rink was solid. In many ways, they’d lucked out. Sarah found a roller rink in North Philadelphia, north of Temple University; right in the heart of Carthian Core territory. With Rebecca back in charge of her faction, getting permission to hunt was simple.
She's into superstitions...The speakers cut loose with the pounding beat and opening lyrics of Ricky Martin’s latest, sending the youthful crowd into a frenzied cheer.
...black cats and voodoo dolls.
I feel a premonition,
that girl's gonna make me fall.
“Hoping those lyrics don’t prove prophetic?” teased Sarah, sensing Michael’s uneasiness on his feet. She was utterly self-assured, as if she skated every night of her unlife, and it showed in her skills.
“I’m a nerd.” Michael admitted, as if crafting a persona for himself. “I’m never easy on my feet.”
“Come on!” She spun around him and took him in hand. She gently pulled him onto the rink and the pair began to skate around.
After a couple of laps, Sarah let Michael be. They were here, after all, to hunt and this was not the sort of crowd that went for the whole threesome bit. As Sarah had pointed out when she’d initially proposed this idea, their prey tonight were people who thought a kiss and a cuddle to be somewhat radical expressions of their sexuality. Anything more adult than that was well beyond the pale.
That truth gave Michael some comfort, still fearing to go too far down that dark road. This was no playful sex game with the adult-who-appeared-a-child Sarah. These were real kids and teens who’d likely be scarred and damaged for life if Michael went all the way with them. That was the monster Michael was desperately trying to avoid becoming.
It was also the sort of monster Sarah believed he would never become. Hence why they were here: Sarah’s bet.
Michael made his way around the rink somewhat timidly. It didn’t take him long to figure out his vampire reflexes and senses made up for his lack of recent experience and skill. Still, faking incompetence fit the awkward nerdy personality he was pretending at, so he played at clumsy and uncertain.
Nerdy disguise or no, Michael was still a Daeva vampire and his unworldly good looks were drawing stares from all over. Working as a ref was an older (perhaps 19 or 20) dark haired girl, possibly Latina, with an ample bosom and a delightfully short pink skirt. She’d had her eyes on him for a while. There was also another younger girl who turned around and giggled at him each time she passed him on the circuit. No more than 13 or 14, she could barely contain her enthusiasm as time and again, she chased him down only to sweep past him with a smile.
“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Thought Michael.
Michael got off the rink and headed for a bench near the back wall. He spun and landed hard on his rump on the bench, a calculated maneuver that looked utterly accidental. His young admirer did not miss that he’d sat down and the two watched each other as she completed her circuit and came around to him. She too left the rink and came right to him.
As she got closer, she tried to stop suddenly, but either intentionally or accidentally misjudged the maneuver. She landed hard on the floor right at Michael’s feet.
“Ouch!” she exclaimed.
Michael had seen her complete several circuits of the rink at speed and with flair. Between that and her custom skates (not rentals like his), it was obvious she was far more skilled than this little episode implied. She was clearly playing awkward as well.
“Are you okay?” he said, trying to come to his feet. He helped her up.
“I’m not sure.” She said, favoring her left leg as she came to her feet. “My leg hurts.”
“Can you skate over to the locker room?” suggested Michael, setting the trap.
“With help.” she grinned.
So she was playing the game. Did she have even a remote clue what Michael had in store for her?
Michael was a good bit taller than her, so she grabbed him snugly around the chest as they skated together around the outside of the rink to the “locker room.” It was not, as it might be in a gym or fitness center, an enclosed space separated by gender. Instead it was a large alcove with rows of lockers for the rink’s patrons to store their shoes and other personal belongings.
The girl plopped down on a bench in between the two rows of lockers. “I’m Michael, by the way.” Michael introduced himself.
“Katie.” The girl giggled nervously. She was young in every way that word meant, but still quite cute. Michael could easily envision himself at age 14 crushing on Katie hard. She was wearing a pair of pink shorts and a simple t-shirt. Not exactly the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen, but it did leave her legs bare.
Michael ran his fingers across the skin of her right shin, knowing full well that was the one she’d been putting weight on the whole time. “Is this still hurting?”
“A little.” Katie lied. Michael now had full confirmation this was all a game, if she had so easily forgotten which leg she’d hurt. Michael reached around and began massaging her calf muscle. “It feels better when you touch it like that.” she admitted.
Michael massaged harder and then pulled her leg out straight. That action slid her across the top of the bench much closer to him. “Does it hurt when I stretch it out like this?”
“Not really.” Her voice was uncertain, nervous.
“You were watching me when I was on the rink.” Michael looked her in the eyes, willing his vampiric charisma to supernatural levels. Katie blushed intensely and looked away, embarrassed at being caught. Michael took her by the chin and turned her head back to him. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m not used to have cute girls watch me like that.” Still playing the part of the nerd.
“You really think I’m cute?” Katie asked nervously.
“Very.” Michael took his chance and leaned in. He kissed her hard on the lips.
The moment his lips touched hers she utterly melted, like her every romantic fantasy just came to pass. Michael held the kiss, chaste as it was, for several seconds before releasing Katie.
She looked at him, even more embarrassed now. “Why did you do that?”
“You didn’t like it?”
Michael could almost see the battle between her desire and anxiety play out in her eyes. It resolved quickly. “Do it again.” she half-whispered to him, her arms moving up his chest to embrace him.
Michael obliged her, diving in again. This time, he did not linger long on her lips, but began kissing a trail across her cheek toward her neck, pausing above her carotid. He bit. She gasped as the ecstasy of the Kiss overwhelmed her and he drank.
He took very little, only enough to satisfy his immediate hunger. Katie was far too precious a thing to risk damaging further. She passed out in his arms and Michael released his bite. The wound closed and Michael came to his feet.
“I win.” Said Sarah.
“You were watching us?”
“Saw the whole thing. Smooth, seductive, and you were in complete control of yourself the whole time. I win the bet.” Sarah skated over to Katie, checking her over. “She’ll be fine. Told you that you wouldn’t hurt her.”
Michael nodded in agreement to that. Katie began to stir.
“You okay?” he asked Katie as she came around.
“What happened?” she asked weakly.
“I think you passed out.” Michael dug into his pocket and pulled out a single. “Here, why don’t you get a soda at the snack bar and settle a bit until you feel better. Unfortunately, I’ve got to go.” He pointed back at Sarah behind him. “Go to take the kid sister home for bedtime.”
Sarah frowned, playing the part of the disappointed sibling.
“Will you be back here again later?” Katie asked.
“Not tonight. But maybe.”
“Okay.” she said, satisfied with his answer. She took the money and rolled off.
“So, big brother, what do you plan to do with me when we get home?” said Sarah as she began to take off her own skates.
Michael smiled slyly.
---
Boar opened the door to Michael’s Conshohocken apartment. He’d already tried the club, only to discover Michael was not that evening, that he’d taken the night off for personal reasons. Rebecca, who was filling in at CRASS while her own club was being rebuilt, informed him that Michael and Sarah had gone skating at a roller rink in North Philly and likely would be back at their apartment after the rink closed at 10:00pm.
So here he was, to deliver what he knew about Orlov in person and to reassure Michael that he was okay after dropping off the world for three days.
He stepped inside the living room to a macabre sight.
Dangling from the ceiling, hung by a noose, was a naked Sarah. Her eyes stared lifelessly forward and her tongue dangled from her mouth. Her hands were bound behind her back and some manner of fluid was running down her leg to collect on the floor beneath her; proof of recent coitus. Boar stepped cautiously forward, wondering what the hell was going on.
He leaned in to check on her when her eyes moved. “Boo!” she said.
Boar jumped back startled and Sarah started laughing maniacally. “You…you should have…” she choked out between cackles. She brought her arms up, grabbing the noose and hoisting herself up. Without tension of her body holding things fast, she was able to loosen the noose and free herself.
“What the fuck are you two doing?” said Boar, less amused by far by this little game.
“Just a little roleplay.” Said Sarah. She bit at the ropes around her wrist to cut them off. “I was the doomed prisoner with just one final request. ‘Please…please fuck me while I am dangling from the noose. Do me as my last breath escapes.’ We’re calling it murder fucking. It’s fun. The first thing we tried was having Michael cut my throat, but that healed too fast so we tried this instead.”
“You have some seriously sick kinks.”
“Well, I am a masochist, if you hadn’t guessed.” She grabbed an oversized T-shirt and pulled it on to hide her nakedness.
“TMI.” Said Boar. “Where is Michael anyway?”
“Taking a shower. I was about to free myself when I heard your car pull up. Figured I’d see if I could get you. Boy, did I ever.”
Michael came out of the bathroom, wearing a towel. “Boar, is that you?”
“Yes. I’m fine…mostly.” Said the werewolf.
“Thank God. I was getting worried. What the hell happened?”
“Drake happened. He and his TFV goons busted up my meeting with Ortega. Took all of us prisoner. Got shot twice trying to escape.” He patted the bulge underneath his shirt. “Took two silver rounds to the chest, but I got some old fashioned werewolf shaman juju to heal me up. Still hurts like a bitch, but I’m up and about.”
“So, Orlov is…”
“Dead, I presume. TFV left us to go after them. They don’t strike me as the types to mess around.”
“No, I imagine not.” Said Michael. “Really glad you’re back. With everything else…”
“How did Mitch and Solomon fare?”
“Ernie’s already cleared out, which I suppose we should have guessed from the attack on Monroe. No casualties there. Oh, and Rebecca’s awake.”
“I saw that. I ran into her at the club.”
“So,” Michael began ratting off a list. “Orlov’s dead. Ernie’s been flushed. Becca’s awake. You’re back safe and sound. I think we can call this week a win. That’s a nice change of pace.”
“Reason to celebrate.” Said Sarah, sipping at a glass of beer she’d fetched from a nearby table.
“I’m not into your kind of celebration.” Said Boar, backing away. “A bit too much for me.”
“Go home to Tasha.” Said Michael. “I’m sure she’s more worried than we are.”
“I phoned her from Ortega’s once I was able. I came here because I wanted to report in person. So, one step ahead of you.”
“Either way. Get your ass home. We’ll figure out a time to meet over the next few nights to plan our next move.”
---
The following night, Michael returned to Club CRASS and to a sense of normalcy. His feast (or lack thereof) from little Katie the night before was proving inadequate to his thirst for blood, so he found someone at the club on which to dine. Opal had come into the club that night wearing one of the slinkiest sexiest dresses Michael had ever seen. Given that she was a plus-size woman, Michael found her self-assurance and confidence an immediate turn on, so he turned on his vampiric charm and lured her to his office and bed.
Michael sat up from the bed and walked across the room towards his desk. He fetched his pants from the floor and pulled them on, just enough for modesty. He then wandered back over to the sleeping form lying in the bed.
He checked her over; still breathing but weakened by blood loss.
The elevator door opened and Sarah stepped out. She definitely gave Opal a run for her money in the sexy dress department. Gone were the trappings of the innocent child she’d been affecting of late. Few now would confuse her for a child, with her tattoos, piercings, and black midriff-and-back-baring halter top.
“Still alive, I trust.” she commented.
“Of course.”
“Further proof that nothing really has changed. Pretending to execute me last night did not turn you into an indiscriminate murderer nor did seducing a 12 year old with a kiss make you a child molester. She’s what? 35? Obviously you still like the older ladies just as much.”
“You keep driving home your point.”
“Because you need to hear it.” Sarah moved next to Opal. “So, how was she?”
“Pretty wild. Older women have experience and a certain willingness to risk on their side. We’ll chalk her passing out to having too much drink beforehand.”
“Just didn’t learn, did she?” said Sarah sardonically. “All things in moderation. I didn’t come up to admire your handiwork however. We may have a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Someone asking for you by name. Blond fellow about thirty.” Sarah guided Michael over to his computer and brought up the security camera feed. “There! That guy.”
“David Hemmingway.” said Michael with resignation. “The beard is new. He’s a bit different, older, but that’s him.”
“He was what? An old friend? I mean, in addition to being a hunter who wants to kill you.”
“My best friend growing up. Now seemingly determined to kill me.” Michael paused. “This is an odd play. He’s been in the city for weeks now, clearly he had no idea where exactly to find me. Now he just shows up.”
“Maybe he put two and two together regarding the Studio Gothic bombing. Presumed he’d find you somewhere here on South Street.”
“Possible this is just a stab in the dark. We’ve been distracted by other things too much lately to notice if anyone’s been fishing around for me.”
“So now what?” asked Sarah. “He’s here. He’s asking for you.”
“I could leave him dangling. But we’re in a position of strength now. The way I see it: he went through all that trouble. Little sense in letting him leave disappointed.” said Michael, reaching into the drawer of his desk and drawing out his Beretta M93.
---
David Hemmingway took a sip from his bourbon. He tried to ignore the pounding music, keeping his eyes on the back hallway. He chased off one or two eager young women who seemed interested in his companionship. His focus was set, knowing that his quarry would come out sooner or later.
He should have guessed; the bombing of a goth club on South Street was a huge clue where to find where the demons who haunt the night were hiding. Too bad he figured this out after those same demons had slaughtered his allies. Now he was alone, making his mission all the more urgent.
Still, despite feeling like an alien in an unholy land, David smiled. He asked a few of the club-goers about Michael and nearly all of them had told him that Michael was here frequently. Some even said he owned the place. That was all David needed. He’d found Michael at last.
“So let me guess.” said a voice behind him. A hand pounded a rum shooter down on the table next to him. “Big explosion. Makes national news and gives you the clue you needed to find me.” Michael came around into David’s view.
“Pretty much.” David assessed Michael, seeing him with his own eyes for the first time in nearly half his life. “Nice goatee. Desperately trying to hide the fact that you were barely an adult when they changed you. It works...up to a point.”
“Is this how it is to be? We trade shallow insults. Maybe I can call you an ‘old man’ and we’ll be even on that score. Or why don’t we cut to the chase and get to why you’re really here.”
David stayed silent. Michael sat down and shrugged. He took a drink from his rum and waited.
“You know why.” Said David coldly.
“I’ve done nothing to you for over a decade. And if memory serves, I was the wounded party when we parted ways all those years ago.”
“That old argument means nothing now. You’re a monster. That alone is reason enough to destroy you.”
“Oh, you have no idea on that front.” Michael laughed. “Let me tell you about my little sex escapades of late.”
“You killed my people.”
“Ah,” Michael took another sip, now understanding. “So the Prince’s men caught up your little renegade Malleus group for the murder of Roland Bishop. Nice try, but not my people. I can tell you where to find them, if you’re really interested.”
“It doesn’t matter. You’re the one I’m after.”
“Why am I not surprised? Oh, yeah, with one exception, the people from my past all share one common trait. They blame me for all the problems in the world. For my father, I was to blame for being smarter than him. For my mother, I was to blame for ruining her delusions of a perfect family. For Todd Sexton, I’m to blame for his brother’s death. Oh, wait, I am actually guilty of that one.” Michael sighed. “It’s always so much easier to blame everything on pathetic little Michael. After all, he never fights back. The passive little 98 pound weakling that everyone takes advantage of. And no one ever need worry their pretty little heads about their own sins and flaws.”
“This isn’t about me.”
“Oh, but it is, my old friend.” Hissed Michael. “Naive. Sanctimonious. Self-righteous. Arrogant. Stop me when I hit a trait that actual fails to describe you.”
“Arrogant?” barked David, his anger rising. “Let’s talk about that one, shall we? Thinking you can game God and his law, bend Him to your will and desires? Wasn’t that how it was with Rebecca? Hey, God, if I play by the rules, will you let me win my crush? And then when it didn’t happen, you sold yourself to the devil himself. You never could accept defeat.”
Michael let loose a raucous belly laugh. “Now that’s rich. From the boy who never wanted for anything. Who never lost. Who never struggled. Who had the whole damn world handed to him on a silver platter. You know something, David, you think I can’t accept defeat? You’ve never experienced it. Not once in your life.” Michael let his humanity slip, letting the predator come out in his face. “Go home, David, before you find out just how much of a monster I can really be.”
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