Act Four Chapter Two - Witch Hunt (Part III of "Fear")

Isaac scanned the area again with his night-vision binoculars. No pedestrian activity. None at all. That itself would seem an oddity. A busy city street just a dozen or so blocks north of City Hall. But the Divine Lorraine Hotel, formerly the secret headquarters of the Dark Brotherhood, seemed to cast its own accursed shadow upon the streets around it. No one seemed to want to get close to it, at least not on foot. Sure, the cars zipped by on Ridge and Broad and Fairmount avenues. But people on foot took the long way around.

Maybe it was different during the day. Isaac didn’t know. He’d not been given the assignment to personally watch over things until just a few days ago, and then he’d drawn the “night shift.”

The door to the building he was standing on opened up behind him. Isaac reached under his coat to his Auto Mag before he recognized the newcomer. One of Michael Allens’ vampire entourage. Isaac suspected he’d not spent the night up here alone. After all, Allens wanted these infernal sorcerers as dead as TFV did.

“Seen anything?” the vampire asked.

“You’re the first interesting thing that’s happened tonight. Been quiet.” said Isaac. “And you are? I know you’re one of Mr. Allens’ assistants, but I’ve never caught your name.”

“Paul Miller.” said the vampire.

“Agent J.” said Isaac cautiously in response.

“Would that be your first initial, as it is with your boss? I wonder.” speculated Paul. “Not that it matters.” Paul glanced across the avenue at the Divine Lorraine. “I heard the stories of what happened in there. Nightmarish.”

“The general public doesn’t know the whole story. That’s for the best. One day, they’ll forget even the fiction we’ve told them. They’ll tear down the building or they’ll renovate it and reopen it. Something and what we did and saw here will no longer matter.”

“You lost a friend in there.”

“So did you.”

“I didn’t know Julia very well. I’m guessing you were far closer to Mikail.”

“We had a bond. There are...were three of us. All foreign nationals recruited into TFV around the same time. All here for the same reasons. I grew up in Tel Aviv. Israeli national, did my government service when I came of age. Sniper. Crack shot for the IDF. One of their best, but I wasn’t too keen on shooting Palestinian kids throwing rocks and bottles at 1000 meters. Didn’t seem very fair...or moral.

“When my time was up, I came to America, courtesy of some connections of my late father, who used to work as part of the consulate in DC. TFV recruited me right away. A conscience is usually a handicap in a top-of-the-line sniper, but they wanted me because I wouldn’t care about the things they shot at 1000 meters. Mikail was Russian. Similar story. Didn’t like killing Chechen civilians for Spetsnaz. Nor...” Isaac paused to avoid saying his real name. “our third, who’d done some nasty stuff for the British SAS in Northern Ireland. Shooting vampires and werewolves is a lot easier on the gut. Once in the team together, we were the oddballs. The foreigners who didn’t quite fit in.”

“Do you want to shoot me?” asked Paul boldly.

“I have no such orders. Unless you’re planning to make a snack out of me here on this rooftop, you’re safe here.”

“And I’d be nuts to try with that hand cannon under your coat and that second one leaning against the edge of the roof. As my mentor likes to say, ‘a vampire may be bulletproof, but put enough lead in something and it will fall down eventually.’”

“Your mentor is a wise man. That’s especially true when you’re dealing with...” Isaac’s cell phone rang to interrupt him. He pulled it out and answered. He grunted a few times in response to whatever was being told him on the other end, then returned the phone to his pocket.

“Code 37.” he said to Paul, moving to his sniper rifle. “That takes priority. I have to leave.”

“What’s going on?”

“As I’m sure you’re aware, deep within every monster is a ravenous beast trying to claw its way out. Every now and then, one succeeds and the beast must be put down like a rabid dog. So that’s where I’m going. Some werewolf looked into the eyes of the Abyss a little too long and let his wolf get the better of him.”

“Usually, their own kind takes care of that. Just like we do with ours.”

“Then, they’d better hurry. Because if they don’t reach him before I do...” Isaac pulled out his Auto Mag and ejected the magazine. Paul could see the shine of the silver bullets within. “Mind the store while I’m gone.”

“Will do.” said Paul as Isaac headed for the door.

After Isaac departed, Paul spotted a shimmering effect near the door. He drew his pistol and made ready to fire. The shimmering took the form of Kathleen as she stepped forward.

“You’re two peas in a pod.” she teased. “You’re both far too trusting. Isaac, a secret agent in a super-secret government agency, shares his life story for anyone about to hear. And you completely fail to notice that I followed you here from the apartment.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing Prince Walsh isn’t after us then.”

“He might be. You and I are allies of Michael. That puts big targets on the both of us. You should be more careful.”

“Well,” Paul shrugged and gave a soft smile. “It seems you have my back, so I have that in my favor. Why’d you follow me tonight? Not much to do except stand watch.”

“Michael and the others who went inside say this place is haunted. I’d love to see a ghost.”

“You have a morbid sense of humor, Kath.”

“I suppose I do. I was an entropist for the most part. All is dust in the wind. All things must end. Becoming kindred was the first kink that armor. Now to hear that our spirits can live beyond death as well. How fascinating.”

“Well, you’re probably going to be disappointed. I’m not going in here and, from what we know, the quarry we’re hunting don’t either. Not that I mind the company, but you’d probably have a better evening down at Club CRASS. Maybe see if you can bed Michael again.”

“Why would I do that?”

Paul paused to take Kathleen in. She was dressed conservatively, a sweater and jeans. A good sign she was her normal self and not the obsessed stalker her mental difficulties sometimes imposed upon her. He’d missed that.

“Ernie sometimes makes you do that.”

“Don’t joke about that.” said Kathleen firmly. “You don’t know what it’s like to have someone else take control of you, make you do things, and then give only the faintest memories of what you did while they were in there. Ernie leaves just enough behind to...” She let the thought trail off.

“...chill you to the bone or leave you hungry for more?” finished Paul, an edge of cruelty in his voice.

She shot him a baleful look that confirmed his suspicions. “You’re in a mood tonight. Any particular reason why you seem to be trying to pick a fight?”

Paul ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Sorry. It’s so often force of habit anymore to fight with you. I’m not used to you being...” He paused. “...normal.”

“I know being Ernie’s childe and pet makes dating me hard.” She spat the word “pet” with contempt. “But don’t make it harder.”

“But you don’t remember what you do to me when you go away under his influence.”

“Then get angry at him. I can’t help it. I’m the victim here.” She looked past him across the street. “We have company.”

Paul turned around and followed her glance. Sure enough, a man on a motorcycle had driven up beside the Divine Lorraine and taken up the odd ritual stance beside his bike. He was dressed in red, but his motorcycle helmet obscured his face.

“He’s one of them for sure. Can’t let him get away.” Without another word, Paul jumped off the roof and dropped to the street below.

“Paul!” cried out Kathleen, loud enough that the mage across the street heard her.

The mage rushed for his bike as Paul ran over to his own. He drew his gun and squeezed off a couple of shots, but in his haste, his aim went wild. The mage jumped on his bike and Paul noted its make and model: a Ducati Supersport, super-expensive and wicked fast. His own Kawasaki Ninja was a poor comparison. This would be a tough chase.

The mage roared out of the lot behind the Divine Lorraine as Paul brought his bike to life. He tore off after him.

---

“My God, it looked like he’s splitting you in half.” said Rebecca. She was lying on her back in Michael’s Murphy bed, looking up at Sarah above her as Michael entered her from behind.

“Feels like it too.” purred Sarah in clear enjoyment. It had taken her awhile to get comfortable with this sexual position again, with Emmanuel having raped her in this way. But this was her favorite position, the way she’d lured in so many of her own prey, and was very much so the way she preferred Michael to take her also. She’d worked hard to get over her fears. She was a survivor, a vampire, predator not prey. She would do this and she did. Now she was reaping the benefits of her tenacity as wave after wave of pleasure rushed over her.

A phone rang, breaking the moment. Sarah reached over and grabbed it from the shelf near the bed.

“It’s Kathleen.” she said.

“Ignore it.” said Michael, who never stopped his rhythm. “She’s probably trying to find a way to steal your spot right now.”

Sarah tossed the cell phone back onto the shelf and returned to enjoying Michael's ministrations. When Rebecca’s mouth joined in, she yelped in delight. And then another phone rang.

“That’s my phone this time.” said Rebecca. “Why’d she call me?”

“Ignore it.” said Michael, getting more insistent. He quickened his pace as Sarah squealed in pleasure.

A third phone rang, this time the office desk phone. “Goddamit” growled Michael, “get the hint!”

The answering machine picked up, barking Kathleen’s voice to the whole room “Michael! It’s Paul. He went after a mage. By himself. Help!”

“Son of a bitch. What was the damn fool thinking?” said Michael. Recognizing the danger, he jumped off Sarah and snatched his pants from the floor.

“Impulsive bastard owes me one.” snarled Sarah in frustration.

“That makes two of us. Once Michael was done with you, you know it was my turn.” added Rebecca. Both women went to grab their clothes as well.

“Meet me downstairs. I’ll get the car” said Michael, pulling on his shirt and heading for the elevator.

---

Paul tore up Ridge Ave, trying to keep pace with the mage and his powerful bike. He realized he’d made a tactical error. By opening fire with his gun before the chase, he’d tipped off his prey to the fact that he had a firearm. Now his foe was weaving in and out of the nighttime traffic, making another shot virtually impossible.

The mage cut a hard left onto College Ave. That made sense; he was likely heading for the Girard Ave bridge over the Schuylkill River near the zoo and safety within known Brotherhood territory. Paul pushed his bike harder, revving it into the red, in an effort to catch his opponent.

Then his foe did something unexpected, cutting another hard left onto 22nd Street. Paul sensed an opportunity and turned hard down the previous block, hoping to cut him off. He then turned onto Popular, going the wrong way down a one way street. Sure enough, he saw his foe coming right at him.

Paul drew his gun and made ready to fire as the two bikers played chicken with one another. Paul noted the flash of steel; his opponent had drawn a sword. Paul fired and ducked as the two bikes passed on another; the blade passed within inches of the top of his helmet and his shot went wild. Paul slammed the brakes and slid his bike to a stop, pausing only for a moment before revving it back to life again to resume the chase.

Rather than cut north again, the mage kept his course, heading back towards Ridge Ave. Paul now wasn’t sure what his foe was trying to do, although he guessed after one failed attack he’d likely try another. Escape was no longer his priority; killing Paul was.

At 19th, the mage turned left, driving against traffic on a one way street. Paul kept up, dodging a pair of cars and a couple pedestrians who were none too happy to be caught in the middle of their chase. Paul squeezed off another round from his Glock, giving the mage a nice reminder that he had the weapon advantage.

Paul followed the mage back onto Ridge and into heavy traffic. By now, he was certain the police were on their way, which would complicate things immensely. He had to bring this to an end soon or he’d be facing a Masquerade violation, something he was certain the Prince would have a field day with. He gunned the bike, uncertain how much more punishment his Kawasaki could take, tearing past Girard College and towards North Philly.

Paul was pretty certain his foe was not going to keep to Ridge much longer. Further north was gang territory; the black neighborhoods of the western side of North Philly were home to Crips and Bloods and a whole host of smaller local gangs. Paul wasn’t sure if the mage would know the precise web of control the Carthian vampires held over those gangs (the black gangs were not under their influence), but he was guessing his foe wasn’t going to take chances riding directly into what was potentially enemy territory. He drew his gun and took aim, anticipating a left turn.

The mage did not disappoint, cutting hard onto a small side street. Paul was ready, squeezing off a round. The bullet struck home on the Ducati’s engine block. The fine Italian engineered motorcycle was not designed to operate with a 9mm round in its works, and the engine seized up, sending the mage flying over the handlebars into the street. The bike itself went end over end before coming to a stop against a nearby building.

Paul pulled his bike to a stop at the end of the street, pausing briefly to lament the fate of the mangled Ducati. His foe had come to his feet and was trying to limp away, clearly injured from being tossed from his bike.

Paul popped up the visor on his helmet. “Do you really think you can run?” The mage turned around. Paul took aim with his pistol and opened fire. The bullets went wide, despite his aim being dead on. Magic.

The mage drew his katana and the blade burst into flame. Paul got off his bike. “Magic or not, you’re still only human.” He rushed the mage. The mage swung with his flaming blade, faster than any human normally could do, but not fast enough. Paul anticipated the blow and ducked beneath it. He came up and slammed both fists into the man’s chest, sending him flying.

Paul didn’t hesitate. He continued his rush and slammed a powerful kick into the man’s chest just as he hit the ground. That sent him flying again. He hit the ground, rolled a bit, and came to a stop. He did not get back up.

Paul paused for a moment to see what would happen next. Two hammer blows like that would have pulverized the ribcage and probably burst every organ beneath on a normal person, but one never knew with wizards what enchantments he might have raised to protect himself. Still, those same enchantments might have wasted their potency in protecting him from the bike crash. After a few seconds, Paul was satisfied the mage was not getting back up again. He approached cautiously. Off in the distance, he could hear the tell-tale sound of police sirens. He did not have much time.

He grabbed the mage’s body and flung it over his shoulder. He then turned and headed back to his bike.

---

“This is not good.” scowled Michael as they drove up Broad Street. “Using the cops to find our lost vampire. If they find him first...”

“Best lead we have. You know darn well a car chase will draw the police like flies to shit.” replied Rebecca.

“But we’re...Tell me how we’re getting out of this without a massive Masquerade violation.” He was almost shaking with anger and frustration, so upset he could barely organize his thoughts.

“Paul may have solved that problem for us.” said Sarah calmly. “Isn’t that his bike coming this way?”

Michael looked and had to admit it sure looked like it. He slowed the Falcon down. “Who’s that on the back of his bike? He left Kathleen behind.”

The biker waved to Michael as he slowed, confirming his identity. Michael pulled over and Paul spun about and pulled up alongside the Falcon. Michael lowered the window on Sarah’s side.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Michael snarled. “The police are all over the place.”

“Yeah, but they’re looking for a single rider on a bike, not a rider and passenger.” said Paul with a smirk. It took Michael a second or two to register what Paul was saying, that he had essentially outsmarted his police pursuers.

“So that’s the mage?”

“Dead as a doornail, but with the police racing down the street as fast as they are, they never noticed.”

“Grim.” commented Sarah.

“It worked.”

“Meet us back at the Hell Hotel. Kathleen is worried sick.”

“Will do.” Paul revved the bike and headed off.

---

Paul arrived first and spider climbed his way to the top. Kathleen ignored him, much to Paul’s frustration. She only responded when Michael climbed his way to the roof, gushing with delight with his arrival.

“Oh, Michael!” she swooned and practically jumped into his arms. Michael gave Paul a helpless look.

“Sorry, sister.” hissed Sarah with an angry tone. “I only share him with one another vampire and you are not it.” She grabbed Kathleen’s arm and gently, but firmly, broke her embrace.

“Bitch.” snarled Kathleen.

“Enough!” Michael barked. His anger with Paul had faded but he was in no mood for Kathleen’s insanity. “We have more important things to worry about right now.” He looked at Paul. “So who’s the mage?”

“I don’t know, but I think I can make a guess. A certain villainous sort with an affinity for fire.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. Let’s just hope it’s not a Consilium mage or we’ll have a mess on our hands.”

“The Consilium waging war against Walsh would probably muck up his plans.” Paul leaned down to the body in front of them and undid his helmet. “But as it stands, I was right in my guess.”

“Well, I’ll be damned.” whistled Michael, looking down into the lifeless stare of Flame Santiago.

Paul gave the corpse one last kick. “That was for Julia, you bastard.”

“Vengeance is satisfying, but what was he doing at the Hotel?” said Rebecca. She knelt down and began to pat down the corpse, looking for whatever he might be carrying. She reached in his pockets and then suddenly drew back, as if something had bitten her.

“What was it?” Paul reached into the same pocket and pulled out a glass orb, glowing with a reddish light. He searched further, finding two more such orbs, but neither of them were glowing at all.

“You can hold that?” Michael gestured towards the glowing orb.

“Shouldn’t I be able to?” Paul looked confused.

“It must be someone you know. You’d know it if it wasn’t.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Paul.

“Those are soul gems. That’s what they’ve been doing: harvesting the dead from the hotel. That orb contains someone’s soul.”

“Creepy.” said Paul. “And you say it’s someone I know?”

“If you have some level of intimacy and relationship with a person, touching their trapped soul doesn’t trigger a reaction. But if it’s a stranger, the intimacy is overwhelming and very uncomfortable. It’s not painful per se, but it’s not fun.”

“And you know this how?”

“We had some dealings with a lich in Virginia Beach.” answered Sarah. “An undead mage that feeds on the souls of the living. They use these gems to trap their victims.”

“And what is the Brotherhood doing with them?” asked Paul.

“You got me.” answered Michael. He looked towards Sarah, who was far more knowledgeable about such arcane matters. She shrugged.

“Fuel for some ritual perhaps.” Sarah answered. “There are necromancers among the Brotherhood, so maybe they’re planning to make some sort of ghost soldier much like those spirit soldiers we faced months ago. Your guess is as good as mine.”

“Someone I know.” mused Paul. “It must be one of the werewolf pack. One of those that didn’t make it.” He paused. “How do I set him free?”

“Smash the gem.” said Sarah. “And his soul will go on to the Afterlife in whatever form that might take.”

Without hesitation, Paul flung the orb down hard and it shattered on the rooftop. A ghostly wail filled the air and quickly faded. “Another small victory.” Paul admitted.

“Killing Flame is hardly a small victory.” interjected Rebecca. “He’s the #2 of the surviving Brotherhood. This is a major blow to them no matter how you slice it.”

“Agreed. I think this calls for a party.” Michael gave Paul a hearty slap on the back. “Let’s get back to Club CRASS.”

---

“I’ve lost her again. She’s going to spend the rest of the evening trying to get all over you.” Paul complained as he downed a shot of bourbon. “Damn that Ernie.”

Michael stood next to him at the bar in Club CRASS. The crowd of mortal club-goers had thinned somewhat as it was approaching last call, but the coterie had gathered in full. Even Solomon, who’d been keeping to himself for much of the last several months, had shown up. At Paul’s comment, Michael glanced over at Kathleen. She had lost her sweater and had tied up her button-down blouse in such a way to bare her midriff; a surefire sign the normally conservative Kathleen had flipped her switch again.

“Of course, I suppose this is my fault. I’m the one that scared her half to death tonight.” Paul continued.

“You should take that as proof that, despite her ailments, Kathleen loves you.” replied Michael. “I’m certainly not going to scold you for your bold action tonight. Flame is dead. That’s cause for celebration. You’re the hero of the hour.”

“Yeah, but the one I want to celebrate with only wants to get into your pants.”

“She’s going to be disappointed.” said Michael, motioning to the barkeep for another drink of his own. “I owe two very lovely ladies some private time after we were interrupted earlier. I’m booked.”

“I suppose I should be thankful for that. You aren’t typically one who says no.”

Michael gave out an almost imperceptible sigh. He had hoped, given the tone of this conversation, that Paul had given up on blaming Michael for Kathleen’s behavior. But he still got in that one dig. Of course, Paul wasn’t wrong. Michael had gone behind both Paul and Sarah to have his fun with Kathleen when he figured he could get away with it. “I suppose I deserved that.” Michael concluded to himself.

Recognizing the change in Paul’s tone, Michael decided to seek for more pleasant company. He saw Sarah and Rebecca dancing on the floor, grinding seductively into one another, perhaps trying in their own way to make up for their interrupted sex earlier. It was a sight irresistible, so he downed his drink quickly, savoring the burn of the alcohol, and headed towards them.

Seeing him approach, Rebecca stepped back to draw him into their embrace. The trio danced for several minutes, with Michael getting in his fair share of provocative touches on both women. Although he was enjoying the party, Michael was also growing impatient for his intimate time with them later.

The song changed and Sarah broke off to sit down at a nearby booth. Michael instinctively followed her, but Rebecca remained behind, continuing to dance. He slid into the booth next to Sarah.

“Eager for a change of pace?” queried Michael, thinking perhaps that Sarah had hoped Rebecca would also follow.

“It’s only one in the morning.” Reminded Sarah, sensing the real cause of Michael’s eager curiosity. “There’s plenty of night left for the three of us.”

“Time enough for me.” said Kathleen, plopping down in the bench across from them.

Michael expected an angry retort from Sarah, but her response was calm and even. “I told you before, sister, I don’t share him with you.”

“I am not your sister.”

“Oh, but you are. We are both childer of Ernie, for better or worse. And while I don’t fault you for the damage he’s done to you, neither will I allow it to harm Michael unchecked.”

“You need a little more madness in your life.” replied Kathleen, a line so like Ernie that Sarah briefly shifted her sight into the mystical realm to see if Ernie was possessing her again.

Satisfied that he was not, Sarah resumed their argument. “I have plenty. Thank you. You really don’t want to see me when I’m off.”

“That would be fun.” replied Kathleen with a sinister tone.

“Enough of this. You want to get laid. Let me oblige you.” In the midst of the argument, Michael had not noticed that Rebecca had approached them. She immediately plopped into the booth beside Kathleen, grabbed her face, and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. Rebecca held the kiss for several seconds. Kathleen resisted at first, but after a brief moment, surrendered to the pleasure of it.

Michael glanced over at Sarah to see her eyes wide with surprise. He also noticed the flush of her cheeks, which had faded since their dance, now returned with a vengeance. She was getting aroused by this. He then looked away towards Paul. His eyes were expressive too, full of rage and frustration.

“If you’ll excuse us, I’m going to go fuck the daylights out of this girl.” said Rebecca, standing up, grabbing Kathleen by the shirt collar, and dragging her out of the booth. She then hauled the not-very-reluctant Kathleen across the room towards the elevator, passing Paul at the bar as they did so. Nearly red with rage, Paul stormed towards the front door and departed in a huff.

“Ernie’s plan is working. We’re gonna lose Paul to his schemes.” said Michael in frustration. He turned back to Sarah to see she had not heard a word he’d said. Her amber eyes now reflected more than mere sexual arousal. He saw in them that same bestial lust that had marked their reunion in Virginia Beach over a year prior.

She stood up. “Come on. I know you want to watch.” She said with a coy smile. With that, she headed for the elevator herself.

Michael hesitated, glancing briefly towards the front door. It was not typical of Sarah, particularly after the argument she’d just had, to seemingly encourage Michael’s lust for Kathleen. Even if this was some manner of grace on her part, Michael still had to worry about Paul. But the doors did not part to his return. So he stood up and followed Sarah.

By the time he reached the elevator, Sarah had already ascended, leaving Michael to travel up alone. He did so, entering his office to the sounds of wild passion. Whatever Rebecca was doing to Kathleen, she was clearly enjoying it. Michael turned around the bend to witness the two of them in the murphy bed. Rebecca was so determined to ravage Kathleen that she’d barely bothered to undress. The pair were a tangle of limbs and disheveled clothing. Neither of them noticed his entrance, too consumed in their lust to notice much of anything besides each other.

Michael stepped into the shadows and vanished from sight; No sense taking any more chances of being spotted, thus giving Kathleen an excuse to draw him in. Michael didn’t particularly want to test the limits of Sarah’s new-found permissiveness. He then took a moment to look about. Who he did not see in the room was Sarah, who was clearly using her own powers of obfuscation to hide from the lovers.

“Now what?” Michael thought. “Am I to watch this alone? I don’t have the power to locate Sarah while she’s hidden.” His concern was moot however; He soon felt a presence next to him, even if he couldn’t see anything. Sarah’s senses were, as he’d long since learned, more than keen enough to penetrate his own cloak. She’d come to him.

Michael reached out blindly and felt his arms envelop a small figure standing before him. He could not see her, but he could feel her. The softness of her skin, the touch of her leather corset, the faint brush of her silk skirt, these he could sense. But see her he could not.

But even limited to the tactile, he could sense much. Sarah had stiffened briefly at his embrace, a flash of residual fear from her rape at the hands of Emmanuel Noble. Michael felt his own flash of anger and guilt at this, as well as gratitude that the monster who did that to her was dead.

“I wish you wouldn’t read more into that than what’s there.” Sarah said into his mind, sensing his feelings.

“You should have told me...” The intimacy of telepathic contact prevented Michael from filtering his true thoughts and feelings and he immediately regretted the accusatory tone of his response. “I should have known better than to think that didn’t hurt you.” He corrected himself.

“You weren’t meant to.” Sarah explained. “If you’d known, you’d gone off to play the gallant. You’d try to avenge me. That’s both a distraction from your true goals and a challenge you weren’t ready to face. Emmanuel was far more powerful than you, whether you want to admit it or not.”

“If he was that powerful, he could easily have killed you and yet he failed.”

“I was lucky, nothing more. Besides all this, this was my burden to bear and my offense to avenge in my own way. Which I did. Now stop worrying about me and enjoy the moment. I brought you up here for a reason and it wasn’t to discuss the consequences of my rape.” She guided his hand under her skirt, as if to prove to him her level of arousal. “If you don’t stick something in there soon, I’m going to go insane. And you know what I’m like when I’m crazy.”