Hooters in King of Prussia struck Michael as an
odd place for a meeting. At the same time, he could understand it. This was as
close to neutral territory as they could get in the Philly metro area for a
mage and a vampire to meet. Sitting in the shadows of the fey-controlled retail
store around them, there would be little worry for either man in regards to
treachery. Both were equally pilgrims in an unholy land.
Of course, Michael was aware that the place
where he’d met with the Sangiovanni some six months earlier was less than half
a mile further up Dekalb Pike. Still, Michael’s reluctant business partners had
been largely absent from his life since those first meetings. They collected
their cut of his income periodically through their emissaries but otherwise
left him alone. Michael doubted highly they would have assisted him in any
nefarious plan against Zao.
When Zao had told him (through Mitch) of the
date, place, and time of their meeting, Michael wondered if this might be some
manner of test for his notoriously womanizing self. It was a good bet that Zao
wanted to see how Michael could handle himself surrounded by hordes of
flirtatious buxom women. Michael was no fool however. He was well outside his
own hunting grounds and, if he chose to poach, he was certain to answer to the
fey or the Sangiovanni or both.
Michael had already ordered an appetizer when an
older Chinese man entered the restaurant and made his way over to Michael’s
table. He was walking with a cane and a slight limp; likely an act, since
Michael was well aware through Mitch of Zao’s capabilities. The old wizard was
clearly trying to create an image an infirmity to put Michael off-balance. That
was too easily seen through, too obvious. Perhaps Zao was trying one last time
to worm his way out of what was to come.
As Zao sat down, Michael spoke. “Thaddeus Zao, I
presume.”
Zao grunted. “Yes, and you are Michael Allens of
the vampires.”
“My particular faction among my people is known
as the Invaders, which should tell you volumes about how adored I am by my
peers. Still, it’s an apt name, because I am here to invade my rival’s
territories and claim their powers for myself. I’ve made no secret of that. But
my machinations have brought me into conflict not only with my fellow vampires,
but with some of their allies. Namely mage allies and even more specifically,
the Dark Brotherhood cabal. Your arch-nemesis, I believe.”
At that time, the waitress interrupted them to
take Zao’s drink order. She was a tall D-cup blonde with a salon tan and way
too much makeup. Zao politely ordered a soda, ignoring the waitresses copious
use of the term-of-endearment “sugar” in her conversation with him. Michael
merely grunted when she turned to him to see if he wanted a refill.
“She’s a cute one.” said Zao with a sly smile,
all but confirming Michael’s suspicions that this was some manner of test.
“Not my type.” said Michael honestly. “Besides,
my people do have laws and for me to lay claim to her would risk violating
them.”
“Can beasts truly have rules and regulations?”
Zao insultingly wondered aloud.
Michael took it in stride. “You might be
surprised to learn that not all of us strive to be beasts. But if we’re going
to generalize, should I judge all wizards by the standard of the Brotherhood?”
“Touche.” replied Zao. “Tell me, Mr. Allens, my
mages have been at stalemate with the Dark Brotherhood for 200 years. Yes, I’ll
grant that it’s hardly desirable to allow those infernalists the free rein that
we do, but a few dead sleepers each year is not worth breaking the peace. Why
would I need your help?”
“Because you’re not the ones who’ve broken the
peace. Don’t insult my intelligence, Zao. I know they hit you and they hit you
hard.” Michael paused. “And they used vampire proxies to boot.”
“The death of my Tong servants is unfortunate,
but I am recovering. Yes, the syndicate is divided as a power struggle ensues,
but I still have allies among their number. I am confident that my factions
will win out in the end. The death of Kun Yuen is a setback, but a minor one.”
“And Balthazar Murray? Your chief diviner? Don’t
tell me his death is a minor setback as well.”
“Mitch tells you a great deal of our private
affairs.”
“And don’t pretend you don’t know a thing or two
about me in return. After all, you did offer to meet me in Tits Central here.”
Michael’s face showed his growing impatience. “Enough with this dancing about,
Zao. You’re blind and vulnerable and you know damn well the biggest obstacle to
whatever the Brotherhood is scheming for the millennial celebration is yourself
and your people. Think about it from their perspective. How else to get you out
of the way?”
“By luring me into a premature attack.”
countered Zao.
“Yes, I can see that this could be a trap. But
you’re not going to go in alone. You’re going to have my people with you. After
all, you’re here. You wanted this meeting. You need my help and here you are.”
“What are you offering me, Mr. Allens? If I’m
going on the attack, I would be helpful to know precisely what assets I have
my...disposal.” He lingered on the last word, making it clear he saw any aid
Michael might offer as cannon fodder.
Michael ignored the implication. He wasn’t
expecting anything else. “You have myself, for one, a vampire skilled in blade
and gun. My mentor, Solomon, who taught me how to fight and my childe, Rebecca,
whose skill with a sword surpasses my own. You have Mr. Mitchell, whose skills
with magic you’re already aware. You have Boar, my werewolf friend, and his
pack. You also have Damian Drake, who has at his command a squad of TFV
commandos. I have an army, Mr. Zao. I likely have more strength than you do and
I am determined to stop the Noble brothers and their infernal scheme.”
“How gallant of you.” sneered Zao.
“Oh, I won’t pretend that there isn’t something
in it for me. The vampires who support and ally with the Brotherhood are my
enemies.”
“So you’ll use my mages to die for your
ambitions.”
“Just as you’re planning to use my people for
yours. I’m not pretending that we’re going to be best buddies here, Mr. Zao. I
know you’re using me and I’m using you. Let’s not lie about that. But the
benefit...”
“There is little benefit to me. Murray’s
prophecy says...”
“Mitch told me about that too. About how you’ll
die if you confront the Nobles directly. Well, I suppose you have to ask
yourself what’s worth your life. I’ve amassed my coalition because I’ve shown
them time and again that I’ll give anything for their sake. I’ve risked my neck
for their sake countless times and they in turn have risked their own for mine.
Are you willing to risk yours for your own? You’ve hidden behind a wall of
sleepers and secrecy for long enough. The Brotherhood is coming for your
people. You know that.”
Zao gave no retort this time, but simply looked
Michael up and down, assessing his maybe-ally. After a long moment, he spoke
again. “There is a complication.”
“Oh?”
“The Brotherhood is everywhere and nowhere all
at once. We know they rule over the college campuses throughout the city.
Drexel, UPenn, Haverford, and so forth. We now they have their hands in
numerous other activities and businesses throughout the city: the Hell Hotel,
the haunted tours of Eastern State, the Raven Society, numerous real estate
ventures downtown. We don’t know among all of these venues which is their main
headquarters, even if they have one.”
“So you don’t know where to hit?”
“I know everywhere to hit, but that’s the
problem. If we want Emmanuel and Regulus, we’d have to catch them somewhere
important. Somewhere that really matters. Otherwise they’ll just flee.”
“There are ways to cut off escape.”
“Not for a mage. A master of spatial magic can
teleport. Poof! The Noble’s are somewhere else in a heartbeat, even halfway
around the world if they want. The trick is getting them somewhere they won’t
leave. Someplace too valuable to give up.”
“I see. And you don’t know where that would be.”
“Not precisely, no. But I can tell you the
qualities of a place they’d be reluctant to give up. It would have to be a
sanctum, a place where unbelief cannot hamper their magic. Otherwise, the world
of sleepers would be far more aware of their evil. People disappearing by the
dozens each month is nothing out of the ordinary in a city of this size. They
fall into the gangs, prostitution, suicide, homelessness, and the like all the
time. But for many, no one ever wonders. No parent comes looking. No spouse or
sibling seeks out their lost one. It’s as if the missing person never existed
at all. That requires powerful magic, the likes of which normally can’t be cast
without the aid of a unbelief-free zone.”
“We need to find out where they take the people
who vanish.”
“Which brings us back to the original problem.
There’s too many possibilities to scout easily. The Nobles are savvy wizards.
They’ve protected most of their hiding places from being scryed easily. Murray
was never able to penetrate their defenses. That means footwork and it won’t
take long for the Brotherhood to figure out we’re scoping their places for an
attack.”
“There may be another way...” thought Michael
aloud.
---
Immediately after his meeting with Zao, Michael
contacted Zheng and the Angeles, alerting them to keep their ears open for any
offer by group or fraternity at one of the Brotherhood’s universities seeking
prostitutes. It was obvious from what Phoebe had told him about what happened
to hookers who went “across the river” that the Brotherhood was using them in
their macabre rites. No one cares about whores. Dead ones floating in the river
are almost expected and certainly not newsworthy. Murdering one or several in
some black magic ritual was easier than someone who mattered by society’s
standards. Probably less magical energy required to cover their tracks.
Michael didn’t have to wait very long. Zheng
called him back a week later, telling him an offer came from the Beta Theta Pi
frat at UPenn, one of the oldest campus fraternities and likely well
infiltrated by the Brotherhood. They were looking for a handful of call girls
to liven up a graduation party for one of their members, a kid by the name of
Dominick Faulkner. The Faulkners had given generously to the national
fraternity, so their kid was getting some special treatment in the form of a
grand whore-and-drug-laden send off.
“And rich people call us degenerates.” grumbled
Mitch when heard of the offer.
“Want to tag along?” teased Michael.
“You’ll have an easier time hiding in plain
sight that I would.” retorted Mitch. “I doubt they’ll be looking for vampires.”
That was what Michael was counting on. Michael
turned his attention to Phoebe, who was standing next to him. “So what do you
think, my dear?”
“Frats are probably going to be most interested
in white girls. There’s two that work the clubs under Zheng that might be good
to send. Here,” she slid a photograph of a tall hirsute strawberry blonde woman
in her early 20s. “This is Nicole.”
“Nice. Got that whole hippy chick vibe going.”
“Yeah, the hairy legs, pits, and bush help. Some
guys really like that.”
“And then there’s Linda.”
“Woah, she looks like...”
“Yeah, all your adolescent fantasies come to
life. You know that cute chick on TV. Now you can fuck her. Your celebrity
crush come to life.”
“Any others?”
“Zheng’s retinue is small. So unless you want to
add me...”
“Done.” said Michael.
Phoebe’s eyes flashed with fear. “You know what
happens to girls who go across the river.” she reminded him.
“I’m counting on it.” he affirmed. “But I’ll be
there with you and my people will be nearby.” He stroked her cheek
reassuringly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
Phoebe mustered a weak smile. Michael spoke
again. “Why don’t head downstairs and make a little money? Take your mind off
things. This party isn’t until Friday night.”
“Okay.” Phoebe headed for the office elevator.
“Even if I was bound to you, I’m not sure I’d
believe that lie.”
“What lie? I am going to be right there and you
all will be listening in on me.”
“The part about not letting anyone hurt her. You
want the Brotherhood to take her. Otherwise, this plan doesn’t make sense.”
“And I’ll come riding in on my white horse to
save her.”
“So, let’s hope for her sake she’s not first in
line for whatever Mola Ram shit they’re planning.”
“Let’s hope.” said Michael. When Mitch didn’t
seem reassured, he continued. “I’m sharing the risk as best I can.”
“I know and that’s troubling in its own way.
What if the Brotherhood does figure out what you are?”
“Then we get to see if I’m really as good as
everyone says I am.”
---
Michael and the women walked into Beta house as
if they owned the place. A dashing young man, blonde and well dressed, greeted
each enthusiastically and then turned to Michael. “We didn’t ask for any
twinks. Sorry.”
Michael ignored the insult. “I’m with them. I
leave, they leave. They stay, I stay.”
“You’re the pimp?” said the frat boy
incredulously. “You’re not even Chinese.”
“So?” Michael retorted. He considered dropping
the veil, giving this punk a sense of him as an alpha predator, but then
thought better of it. Doing that almost guarantee any mage nearly would know
him for what he was and blow the whole plan. Instead, he parted his jacket to
reveal his Beretta in its shoulder holster.
“Alright,” said the frat boy. “You can stay.”
“There are terms, Mr. Faulkner.” said Michael,
guessing at the man’s identity. “You and your friends can fuck the girls all
you like, but you cannot hurt them. Any bruises and, I don’t care how rich your
Daddy is, you’ll be floating in the river by tomorrow.”
Faulkner glared at Michael balefully. “What?” he
replied after a long moment. “You worried they’re going to end up vanishing
like all the others? I’m paying you enough to not worry about any of that. Is
that understood?”
Michael nodded and Faulkner headed off to make
the final preparations for his party. “He knows about the disappearances.
That’s an odd bit of trivia for some random trust-fund college student to know.”
Within the hour, the place began to fill up with
party goers. The girls began to mingle and Michael kept back to keep watch over
the festivities. Most of the party guests were male, with a few young ladies in
the mix; likely the girlfriends of Faulkner’s frat brothers.
It was not long before the alcohol was joined by
the aromatic scent of marijuana. Michael could also see the tell-tale signs
that revealed some of the guests had dropped some acid and a few had taken
Ecstasy. In fact, two of the latter grabbed Phoebe and pulled her aside. The
male stuffed her face into his crotch while his girlfriend yanked her top up
and began playing with her breasts. That served as a cue for the others and it
wasn’t long at all before Nicole and Linda were likewise engaged.
So far, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. It
was much like the parties Michael had thrown at his villa in Blacksburg
(although he kept a much tighter lid on drug use at his place for reasons of
avoiding police scrutiny.) No one bothered him or paid him any attention at all
outside of an occasional sidelong glance from a random party goer that served
to remind them that he was there.
“So how’s it going?” Michael heard in his earpiece.
“We can hear the music.” It was Boar, outside with Mitch, in the Camaro. They
were keeping tabs on him via a tiny radio system like those used by undercover
police and spies.
“Frustrating.” said Michael honestly under his
breath. “I’d like to join in. I haven’t gotten a taste of these new girls yet
and I get to watch them both bounce on the laps of these pathetic frat boys.”
“Well, heads up. There’s a new arrival at the
door and he doesn’t look like a ‘pathetic frat boy.’ Keep your eyes open.”
“I will.” said Michael. With that, Faulkner went
to the door and welcomed the new guest: a tall Latino man in a red and black
coat.
“Scary looking motherfucker.” muttered Michael
to his allies.
“Yeah. Bet you real money that’s Flame Santiago,
the Brotherhood’s enforcer and assassin.” said Mitch.
“His fashion sense looks more Hollywood
super-villain than practical street gear.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate him. He has a fearsome
reputation.”
“Noted.” said Michael. Faulkner had taken Flame
aside and began to converse with him in the corner of the house foyer. Michael,
with his vampire senses, could hear most of their conversation over the din.
“....they brought their pimp.” That was
Faulkner. “What are we going to do?”
“Why are you panicking?” replied Flame. “...know
what happens when...come over to these parts. No surprise....along a
bodyguard....I’ll deal with him.”
“Lovely.” thought Michael. He was now
wishing he was more heavily armed.
Flame and Faulkner then came in. Faulkner
rejoined the party, yanking Linda off of his frat brother and unzipping his
fly. She took the interruption in style and began to blow him. Michael’s
attention was drawn to Flame, who was at the bar mixing two drinks. Flame then
turned and walked over to Michael.
“Bodyguard duty for these sorts of things can be
boring.” he said sympathetically. He offered Michael one of the drink. “Here.
On me.”
“I take it you work for Mr. Faulkner’s big rich
daddy.” said Michael, taking the drink.
“I keep his son out of trouble.”
“And I suppose this sort of thing doesn’t
count?” Michael gestured over the party with his glass before taking a drink.
The drink, a bourbon and coke, tasted a little off. It might have been cheap
soda or a bargain basement bourbon or Flame had added something extra, like add
in a roofie to knock him out.
“He’s not had nearly enough blow to be a danger
to himself.” said Flame, continuing the conversation. “And your girls will
presumably behave themselves.”
“That’s what we’re paid to do.” Michael set the
bourbon down next to him. “Thanks for the drink, but I’m not overly fond of
bourbon.” That was a lie, but Michael needed an excuse not to finish the
suspicious drink.
Flame glanced from the glass to Michael and back
again, his eyes wondering if he’d been caught. But Michael kept his face
neutral and looked beyond Flame to the party again. One of the frat bros was
getting rowdy with Nicole. “Time to intervene.” said Michael under his breath.
Flame accompanied him and the approach of the
two of them got the frat boy to knock it off with little more than a “bitch”
muttered under his breath. After that, Michael returned to his vantage point at
the back of the room. Flame wandered off on his own, poking his head back in
every now and again.
Outside of the presence of the mage (who may or
may not have truly been who Mitch said he was), there was little suspicious
going on. Michael was even second guessing himself on the drink. Maybe it was
nothing. But Michael kept us his guard anyway.
To his credit, Faulkner’s musical tastes were
top notch. In the course of the next hour, Michael heard, amidst many other
hard rock tracks, Guns-and-Roses “Welcome to the Jungle,” Led Zeppelin’s “Black
Dog,” and AC/DC’s “Money Talks” (which seemed particularly fitting.) Mitch and
Boar, who could hear the music through his earpiece just as he could, would
occasionally sing along, bringing a smile to his face and a nice distraction as
he watched the party.
Linda staggered over after a while and spat a
huge gob of what was likely semen into a nearby house plant. “Gah!” she said,
“Don’t ever let them tell you that swallowing that stuff is fun.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” said Michael
nonchalantly.
“So when did Zhang start hiring white guys as
enforcers?”
“After the trouble with Kun Yuen went down.” Michael
answered. A shrill squeal resounded in his ear. Michael flinched and dug out
the earpiece. A wisp of smoke came up from the still hot piece of electronics.
Something had overloaded it.
“What’s that?” asked Linda.
“Trouble.” Michael wanted to answer, but
he knew better. “Nothing,” he said aloud, tossing the earpiece into the plant
next to Linda’s regurgitated semen. His false sense of security was now gone.
Whatever was going to happen would happen soon. He glanced around for Flame and
saw him nowhere.
Michael noticed the lights grow dimmer in the
room as Pink Floyd’s “Hey You” began to play. The haunting slower melody began
to be accompanied by the flash of colored lights and fog from a fog machine,
something Michael guessed was part of some sort of grand production by their
host. People clapped as the song continued, a few got up to dance, but there
was a weight on the room as if the slower music was lulling them all to sleep.
The dancers soon dropped back to their seats.
Even Michael felt the tug of drowsiness, but as
a vampire he was incapable of mortal sleep. Realizing that would tip him off as
immune to whatever spell was being cast by Flame, he faked a stagger to one
side. Linda had already slumped to the floor. Just as Michael caught his balance
on a nearby railing, Flame appeared behind him. With a sharp blow of a
blackjack, Flame dropped him to the floor.
“Told you he wouldn’t be a problem. All your
friends are sleeping. When the magic wears off, they’ll all think they had the
best party of their lives. They just can’t remember a lot of details.”
“Why’d you club this one?”
“Like you, he hadn’t taken any of the drugs or
drinks. Without them, the spell isn’t as effective, since it enhances their
effects. A more crude method was required. Help me drag him to the van.”
Michael was, of course, still completely aware
of his surroundings. He played along as the two men grabbed him by the limbs
and took him outside. They tossed him unceremoniously into the back of a white
van. Soon, he was joined by Linda, then Nicole, and Phoebe.
“Another unfortunate disappearance of
prostitutes in West Philadelphia.” said Flame with exaggerated concern. “Will
nobody think of the children?” he laughed before slamming the door shut.
Michael sat up as the van sped off. He willed
the shadows to cloak his presence and then he spider climbed onto the ceiling
of the van. His absence would not go unnoticed, but at this point, escape would
be the priority. He had to get away with whatever he’d learned about where they
were being taken.
After a 30 minute or so drive, the van came to a
stop and the two men up front got out again. Michael scrambled to one side,
hoping there would be enough room for his captors to avoid bumping their heads
on his invisible form. They stooped in and went to the girls.
“Hey, where’d the pimp go?” said Faulkner.
Alarmed, Flame drew a sword from beneath his
coat and stepped back out. Michael scrambled after him along the ceiling and
then climbed out of the van onto its rooftop.
“I should have guessed there was something funny
about him.” said Flame. “I should have remembered how well they blend in. But I
wasn’t expecting a vampire at your party tonight. Damn! I’ll pay for that
mistake.”
“What can I do about a vampire?” said Faulkner
nervously.
“Fire and sunlight. Remember your training.
Remember what I’ve taught you. They’re wicked fast and immensely strong. But
you are greater than they.”
So Faulkner was a mage as well, perhaps
apprentice to Flame. Michael assessed his options. Invisible as he was, he
could easily get the drop on one and maybe both of them. Faulkner would be an
easy kill. His inexperience and fear would work against him. Flame, on the
other hand, would be no easy challenge. Muttering under his breath, he was
clearly casting a whole series of spells, probably ones that would allow him to
match Michael in speed and strength. His name gave clue to another form of
magic he’d clearly mastered.
No, discretion would have to be the better part
of valor tonight. This was a recon mission. The assault (and rescue for the
three young women inside the van) would come later. Michael then took stock of
his surroundings. The building was an old 19th century hotel. Michael glanced
across the street and his vampire eyes revealed the street sign at the
intersection: Fairmount Ave and North Broad Street. This was the Raven
Society’s “Hell Hotel,” formerly known as the Divine Lorraine Hotel.
Michael dropped off the van and ran across the
street. He found cover behind a pile of trash along the sidewalk and continued
to watch his foes from afar. Flame was glaring in his general direction, as if
he’d heard or sensed something of Michael’s dash.
“You think he’s still here?” asked Faulkner
nervously.
“No, let’s get the girls inside. We need to warn
the others. This one will be back, you can be certain. And he’ll bring
friends.”
---
Michael, Boar, and Mitch stepped out of the
elevator. The murphy bed was down and Sarah stood before them wearing only a
pair of panties. Behind her, Rebecca was pulling a tank top on over her equally
naked form. Clearly, the men had interrupted something.
“We were just on our way to help.” said Sarah,
doing nothing to hide her nudity. Michael found her lack of modesty arousing.
“We found him.” said Mitch, averting his eyes
from Sarah. Clearly, the memories of their brief dalliance all those months
earlier still unsettled him. “After we lost track of the van, I trusted to fate
and, sure enough, we stumbled upon him in short order.”
“Good. Sarah was getting worried when you
reported his earpiece went dead.” said Rebecca.
“Not so worried that you stopped what you
were doing.” Michael noted to himself. He decided to call her out about it.
“And you weren’t?”
Rebecca smiled. “Of course not. I’m your childe.
Not only do I know how capable you are, but I’d also know if you were ever in
any real danger.”
Boar began to laugh. “Got you there. She’s has
more confidence in you that you do.”
“Appreciated, but you’ll forgive me if I have a
smidge of doubt right now. In Tidewater, the lot of us took on a single mage to
recover Mitch’s soul and she nearly took all of us down. I don’t relish
charging into a lair of them.”
“A little late to have second thoughts now.”
retorted Rebecca.
“You’re right. Find Damian. We’ll need his
people. Mitch, go to Zao. Tell him it’s the Hell Hotel and tomorrow night is
the date.”
“Roger that.” said Mitch. He and Boar both
turned and headed back down the elevator.
“Now we wait.” said Michael, plopping down into
his desk chair.
“We could pick up where we left off.” purred
Sarah seductively. Rebecca slunk over to Michael’s side.
Michael slid his fingers inside Rebecca, feeling
her wetness. “I guessing from the evidence that your student is getting
better.”
“She has a gifted tongue and practice makes
perfect.”
“Well, I’ve spent most of my evening watching a
bunch of drunk frat boys fondle and fuck my favorite whore along with two
others. Sex is not meant to be a spectator sport. Get over here, Sarah. I’d
like to see what Rebecca’s been teaching you.”
Sarah smiled and walked over to join them.
---
They were still at it when Damian arrived two
hours later.
Michael scrambled to pull on some clothes for
his guests. The women didn’t bother, but simply remained under the sheets as
Damian stood by.
“A minimal amount of modesty is all that’s
required. I’ve been around Daeva most of my unlife. I understand your
proclivities.” said Damian with a sly grin.
“Well, we needed something to do to pass the
time.”
“I’m sure a risky encounter with the
Brotherhood’s chief enforcer is more than enough to get the blood flowing.
There’s always something about the closeness of death to bring one’s desires
into overdrive.”
“Boar brought you up to speed?”
“He did. So, the Hell Hotel. Makes sense, I
suppose. Hiding in plain sight behind their Raven Society veneer.”
“So what’s your price this time?”
“There isn’t one.” said Damian coldly. “You owe
me enough as it is. Too many favors, Michael. No more freebies.”
“So you’re yanking the rug out from under us.”
“My TFV agents are a valuable asset and
attacking the Brotherhood head on is a near suicide mission. You know how
strong a mage can be from our previous adventures together. They’ll know you’re
coming. I’m not throwing away my people on your latest impulse.”
“So you came all the way over here to tell me
‘no’ face to face.”
Damian gave a sly grin in response. “You need an
occasional reminder of who has the power here.”
“Do I or do you?” retorted Michael angrily.
“You’re not the one Prince Walsh is frightened of. You’re not the one who can
call in favors from the mage and werewolf communities. You’re not the one with
a Djinn-trained assassin and a former witch hunter as childer. Plus Solomon,
the Angeles gang, and I’ve even got a pet Tong enforcer.”
“Sounds like quite an army. You might have a
chance after all. But you do it without my people.”
With that, Damian turned and departed.
Michael yanked down his pants again and jumped
back into the bed. He channeled his frustration and anger into sex and began
ravaging Rebecca again, much to her delight. She liked things rough and
Michael’s aggravation provided plenty of that as he rage-fucked her.
And so it went for the rest of the night, with
Rebecca bearing the brunt of Michael’s rage. She could handle it though and
took it not only in stride but with enthusiasm. As Michael’s anger was spent,
he turned his attention to Sarah, with whom he was always more gentle.
As dawn approached, the three of them decided to
remain at Club CRASS for the day rather than return to their respective havens
out in the city. That proved fortuitous when the elevator door opened again
around 5:00am.
It was Alex McCoid this time, Agent A of TFV.
His arm was in a sling, but he appeared unarmed and in street clothes.
Michael again scrambled to yank on some pants
for his guest. “Your arrival is a bit of a surprise.”
“We’ve had your office under surveillance for
some time. We heard your conversation with Mr. Maverick, the one you call
Damian.”
Michael glanced about, wondering where the
listening devices might be. “I should have guessed you left behind some
presents after your last visit here.”
“You know my position on things. It was less to
spy on you than to learn the things that you know about others of your kind. Of
particular interest is the Dark Brotherhood. We’ve had a file on them for
decades.”
“Your boss doesn’t seem to care.”
“My boss is also one of you.”
“Bet that wasn’t fun to learn.”
“We’ve suspected for some time that our ranks
have been infiltrated by ENE’s like yourself. Wasn’t that big of a surprise.
But I have some discretion in terms of my squad’s operation.”
“Meaning you can act without his authority.”
“Which is precisely what I intend to do.
Tomorrow night, we’ll be there.” Alex shook his head. “I’ve read that file in
my prep for coming to Philadelphia. You don’t know the half of what they’ve
done. If we can help you stop them, we’re in.”
“Even you? I heard you got hurt in your pursuit
of Orlov.” Michael pointed to the sling.
“My back is mostly healed. I’ll manage.” As if
to demonstrate, he pulled his arm out of the sling and flexed it. “See you
tomorrow.”
Next chapter
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