s02e08: Old Friends

Author: Mxwwmickd

Our special thanks to Fah and to Christophe, for the translations from English to French.


This is a work of fiction, any resemblance to persons living, dead, or undead is coincidental, although some historical events are accurate.


Civil War Draft Riots - NY

Dark Moon, High Tide


"It's rather refreshing to watch the torch bearing mob go after the filthy rich rather than vampires."

"Mr. Constance, you are the filthy rich"

Mr. Josiah Constance looks up from his game of billiards. The billiards table has been set up on the top floor of Constance's waterfront warehouse. The draft riots had raged for a day and a half. "Mansions can be rebuilt, but inventory is another matter. Brick warehouses, steel shutters, and of course, protection monies paid to the ‘Dead Rabbits’ to fight fires and restrain the unwashed mob, this seems to be keeping the wolves from the door. Although why anyone would respect a gang called ‘The Dead Rabbits’ is beyond me.”

"Sir, it appears we have visitors, two ladies. They've sent up a calling card, a Miss Cora Lynn D' Vale and her companion."

"Show them in, we can always use another set of fangs in these troubled times, especially fangs with an appreciation for manners. Did you pack the crystal decanter... then if you would serve us drinks… Oh, there will be no need for the usual clean up to the East River, what with bodies in the street."


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Josiah Constance is surveying the skyline of Lower Manhattan from the roof of his tallest warehouse; fire does not seem to be an immediate threat to his business concerns. The chaos of the riots has created a rather festive evening among the vampire community gathered together in the relative safety of brick buildings. Drinks are flowing freely; it is hardly likely that outrageous vampire celebrations will come to the attention of the public on this night. If things do get too extravagant there is always the East River.

“My dear Miss D’Vale, are you and you lovely companion Cynthia enjoying the evening?”

Cora Lynn shudders, a far away look in her eye, “Revolution is always unsettling… but still this seems to be a human affair…” she says in a low voice.

“My dear, I love it when a woman can make even revolution sound romantic.” Constance slips an arm around her thin waist and pulls her close to drag his lips beneath her jaw line and ends with a tiny nip beneath her ear. Two drops of black blood glitter in the light from distance fires. “America… here we think the bastards had it coming…” Cora Lynn looks at him like a traitor through narrowed eyes… “War, on the other hand, good for vampires and business, revolution bad for both. Let’s collect Cynthia and I can show you the arrangements I’ve made for your accommodation.”


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“My dear Mr. Constance, this is indeed delightful and cool to be surrounded by a house of ice.” Cora Lynn coos. Large blocks of ice packed in sawdust are stacked to the ceiling, building blocks for the small house of ice which has been set up in the open space of the warehouse, candles glittering on wet surfaces.

“Ice in summer, who would imagine that ice can be made into profit; I apologize for the roughness of these accommodations, but since the unruly mob is busy looting my fellow captains of commerce…”

“So, ladies, shall we undress each other… and for a late dinner and entertainment an Irish lad or Irish lass… a cock? We need another cock, for the ladies!” Constance grins and snaps his fingers.


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The ice is beginning to glitter with daylight, candles long since burned out. Constance thinks… Now if every riot could turn out this well, as he listens to the two women talk over the top of him, playing with him, stroking his body. Viva los Vampiros, no one can tell if you are dead or sleeping.

Cynthia: Combien jusqu'à ce que Lance se rend compte que nous sommes à New
York?
(How much time do we have until Lance figures out we are in New York. )

Coraline: Lance est un bâtard avide, maudit les espoirs que je rembourser la famille parce que l'Union a brûlé l'usine Duvall coton à la Nouvelle-Orléans. Le stupide ne peut être reconnaissants parce que je suis vivant?
( Lance is a greedy bastard, that jerk expects me to repay the family because the Union burned the Duvall cotton warehouses in New Orleans. Can't the little shit be grateful I'm alive.)

Cynthia: Attention, ne pas savoir Constance ... il est plus vieux que nous.
(Shush, we know nothing about Constance... he's older than us.)

Coraline: Je n'ai jamais su à propos de la upstart... il n'est pas important, juste un profiteur de cette guerre.
(I've never heard of the upstart before... he's of no importance merely a profiteer in this ar.)

Cynthia: Look our little friend is starting to stir.

Coraline: It is time to take matters in hand once again.

Josef Voice Over: Merde, the French bitches are connected to that greedy bastard Lance, I'll have to hide the silver (all of it) whenever Coraline and Cynthia are around.


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1906

Josef Voice Over Three hundred years old next year, you wouldn’t expect it to feel different, but it does. Money, on the other hand, never feels any different, you have it good, you lose it bad.

“Sir, Mr. Edward Thaw has sent up his calling card.”

“Do I know him?”

“Yes, he said you had business dealings with his father, William Thaw, during the civil war and that he expects to ‘find you unchanged,’ sir.”

“Well, send him up, but lock the door behind him.”


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Stanford White


“Mr. Thaw, to what do I owe this pleasure? May I get you a drink?” Edward Thaw lifts his eyebrows, indicating a question. Josef responds gesturing to himself, “You have the pleasure of speaking with Joe, Joe Fitzpatrick.”

“Joe, a mutual acquaintance of ours is causing us both a problem. He's a new member of your community I believe, Stanford White”

“Yes, the architect. How is he your problem? The wealthy and the famous are almost always poor additions to our community, Mr. Thaw, they have very little discretion.” Josef pours them both a drink of whiskey and offers a glass to the younger man. “I certainly wouldn’t have sanctioned his entry into our society; he was already a man of many appetites.”

Thaw’s jaw tenses, “Well bad luck all around, we believe he found his ‘patron’ on a recent trip to Europe while looting some villa in France. This trip gave my brother time to court, propose and marry Evelyn Nesbitt, White’s former lover.”

“Ah, Evelyn,” Josef muses with some appreciation, “one of those Floradora Girls who have always been very “willing” to please their patrons. We both know that White has never been someone who respected any convention in private, including Miss Nesbitt’s newfound respectability as a married woman.”



Evelyn Nesbitt


Thaw continues, looking out the drawing room windows across 5th Avenue and into Central Park. “Of course my brother is quite deranged and suspects White of designs on his wife. He also believes we have some sort of hereditary responsibility to expose vampires among us. He’s been known to carry a gun.”

“Does he have the right ammunition?”

“Actually, Joe, I’ve come to request permission to use the proper ammunition. If my brother shoots Stanford White and he survives… well, the scandal will touch us all. If my brother kills White, Henry goes to prison, the insane asylum or at the very least is denied any kind of controlling interest in the Pennsylvania Railroad and our other concerns, which are Legion.”

Josef comments, “I propose we toast the continued success of the Pennsylvania Railroad and other concerns.”

Edward Thaw lifts his glass, “To other concerns then, which are Legion.”


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Josef watches Thaw cross the street from the windows of his drawing room cursing softly, gritting his teeth until anger and rage call out the beast. His secretary enters the room and Josef announces, “I’m heading to the waterfront. If any of those blue-blooded bastards want to know my whereabouts, I’m out of town. I need something to drink that will wash away the odor of pretension.”


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Josef is sleeping rough in his ice warehouse, stretched out naked on the large blocks of ice. Curled up next to him in a buffalo skin rug is a young woman, not yet twenty, sleeping peacefully, bite marks on her inner arm.

“Josef!” Waking with a start, he hears his name is called out. “Josef,” a long wail, it’s coming from the street. Instantly he is over at the window, leaning out. The sky is lightening, Coraline is below, crying and distraught, her human face barely in place.

“Cora, Cora, Floradora Girl,” Josef says softly, “I’m up here.” Her skimpy showgirl dress is already torn as she rapidly crawls up the side of the building and into Josef’s arms. Josef curses her indiscretion and peers out into the street. Was she seen?

“Josef, Stanford is dead!” Shit, she turned him… Josef is calculating the strength of the Sire/offspring bond, what, less than a year ago? Damn it, Coraline always chooses strong-willed offspring who clung to their old life. In the case of Stanford White, this meant his sexual appetite for younger and younger women… it was only a matter of time before White turned a 12 year old girl.

“I know, Cora, the Legion came to me yesterday.”

“And you just let them kill him!” Coraline is clawing, hissing and biting at Josef’s throat. Josef twists his hand in her hair, yanking her head back to expose her neck, while he locks her arm back. She can choose to continue her attack or face the momentary pain of dislocated joints. Josef doesn’t really care what happens, he hasn’t had a good fuck in a while… that’s where it always ends with Coraline. He smiles, sadly she’s too grief stricken to continue. Josef brushes his lips along her and nips her neck before he releases her.

“I didn’t have a choice, Thaw was going to shoot him anyway, and White’s survival of the event would have endangered us. You knew him better than most… would he have gone into hiding; given up a life as America’s most famous architect?” He was internationally recognizable!” Coraline collapses sobbing on Josef’s chest until she smells food. Her eyes silver and fangs descend as she focuses on the prey. The girl is looking at them wide-eyed, only slightly frightened.

“Mister, what’s wrong with the lady?”

“She’s hungry, that’s all.”

“Hungry like you?” The girls eyes go wide as she looks from Coraline to Josef.

“Yes.” Josef chuckles. “Can you keep this a secret?”

“Lord, Mister, I've seen worse things down in the lower east end.”

“Put some clothes on and talk to the warehouse boss, there’s a position if you want it.”

“Do I have to fuck you?”

“Feed more than fuck. I won’t leave you with any brats, can’t have them.”

“Sure, Mister.”

“The rules are simple, no stealing and no telling or you’re dead.”

“Phhttt,” the girl makes a rude noise with her lips, “Like I said, I've seen worse.”

His attention returns to Coraline, “I’ll get you something to eat and don’t touch her… she’s mine.”


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“Sleep well, Mick?” Beth is spread out with newspapers on the couch, still wearing her pajamas, relaxed and happy.

“Don’t you have to work today?” Mick asks, smiling and glad she is still here.

“I took a personal day, it was nice to spend Sunday together and I didn’t want to break the spell. Do you have things to do today?”

“Don’t tell anyone, but Oscar and I have been doing the crossword puzzle, so when he came by I asked him to bring over some papers. I said I’d be spending the day with you.”

“How did the crossword thing happen?” Beth smiles mysteriously and thinks, Oscar’s tightfisted attitude toward information may be rubbing off. Maybe I'll practice controlling my breath and heartbeat around Mick today.

Mick stretches and Beth stares, thinking, how are those pajama bottoms staying up? They’re hanging on nothing but… Even Beth can hear her heart begin to race… maybe I’ll get lucky… and she says quickly, “I think we’re ready to move up to the New York Times or… maybe not… Mick, does Josef know about this?” Leaning over her shoulder he takes a moment to inhale her scent, stopping mid-sniff as he reads…

WHITLEY TRUST FINANCES VAMPIRE HUNTERS

“I believe that’s him calling now,” Mick says as the phone begins to ring.


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“I can’t believe they’re saying this is my problem.” Josef is pacing in his living room “I’d kill John Whitley, if he wasn’t already dead. I should have killed him last winter,”

“Josef, the Times states that the trust has been in place for three years… it wouldn’t have made any difference. It’s just being endowed now.” Beth looks at Mick, who shrugs… now isn’t the time to be reasonable. Josef continues to rant.

“Do you know how much effort I put into making sure that the Legion in New York is run by fools? A century worth of idiots and lunatics… starting with Thaw, I romanced his mother, yuck, I kept him out of prison, invested in his movies, sent him to India for research… electro-shock, that was effective… reduced him to a drooling idiot for a few months. Dead someone would have taken his place, alive he filled a void… when he died… vampires were ridiculous celluloid monsters. More importantly, the Thaws abandoned their support of the Legion, renounced their hereditary role because Uncle Harry was certifiable. Now they have billions again! Fuck!”

Mick tries to distract his friend, “Josef, the New York Tabloids are still doing your job.”

LEGIONNAIRE'S DISEASE: VAMPIRES ON THE BRAIN
MAD COW DISEASE CAUSED BY VAMPIRES FEEDING ON LIVE STOCK
WHITLEY DIES WEARING GARLIC TURBAN
POPE REFUSES TO ENDORSE COMMERCIAL BOTTLED HOLY WATER.
CABLE ACCESS VAMPIRE HUNTER’S PLAN FOR WORLD DOMINANCE

Beth speaks up, “Look, there is an exclusive interview with the cable access guy. This guy, Tyson, isn’t that a brand of chicken… It says here that be believes that he’s the reincarnation of a Hungarian vampire hunter. He’s been chasing Dracula across various lifetimes. The moment of truth happened during fourth grade, apparently someone shot him with a paper clip in the side of the neck and he recovered a past life memory of Dracula sucking out his last drop of blood. He’s accusing Larry King of being the reincarnation of Dracula, King’s refusing a meeting. I bet he’s got episodes posted on YouTube.”

“This is bad,” Josef mutters, “Beth, I need you to go to New York and do spin control on this thing. I’ll handle the financial end and Mick… Mick, we’ll find something for you to do, investigate this chicken guy…”

“I have a job, Josef,” Beth protests.

“Call Talbot and take a week off.”


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Ben Talbot rubs the slight stubble on his jaw, it was another long weekend. Driving up to San Quentin to see his father every Sunday made Mondays grueling. Fortunately, he wasn’t scheduled to appear in court today. His sister, Caitlin, hadn’t made the trip with him yesterday. He and his father had an unspoken agreement not to talk about the crime that had landed him in prison in front of Caitlin.

Ben had looked across the table at the man whose face resembled his so closely. He had no specific memories of the man, just feelings of being loved, protected; odd, when they seemed to share the same cynical sensibilities as well as physical resemblances.

“Dad, Cate’s not here today, can I ask you why you didn’t fight this?”

“Every man has limits, son.” His father smiles a half smile, one that Ben has seen on himself in pictures.” “I never thought I’d get to say the word, ‘son’ to you or ever see you again.” His lips tighten before he begins to speak, “the insanity defense is a double edged sword, there would have been no other way to explain what I saw. The prosecutor would have countered that I had merely disassociated and killed your mother anyway… and since I wasn’t claiming to have lost time or that I had lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong… Ben, I talked to the police at length… not a confession… lots of evidence in my own words. I've defended men using the insanity defense. I helped compulsive liars win a ‘not guilty’ verdict and watched genuinely sick people be convicted, in spite of my best efforts.

“That all sounds very noble… but they would have tried to put you on the stand to testify.” He says the last quietly, looking away from Ben. “So I used my resources to arrange a plea bargain for second degree murder and a private adoption for you and Caitlin. My parents had they been alive, were old fashioned, prison was a terrible stigma… Your mother’s parents, since I believe she’s still alive, wouldn’t have been safe. I wasn’t scared of prison… a jailhouse lawyer is always welcome… and I’ve done some good work here.”

"What did you see, dad?"

"Read the police reports and then we need to have a private interview... as my lawyer you can set that up, Ben."

"You’re hiring me?" Speaking these words gives Ben chills... this man, his father... a connection that had been so lost, he hadn't known it existed.

Ben's attention snaps back to the present as his phone begins to ring.

"So, you're trying to tell me the list I received is a list of vampires living in LA?" Ben resists the urge to laugh out loud, "and Mick St. John is a vampire... yeah, I know he's strange, but there's lots of strange people living in LA. What... so now you're threatening me... threatening to expose my mother as a vampire? Would this be my biological mother or my adoptive mother? Tell me where to find my biological mother and I might listen to you. Good-bye."

Ben shakes his head. Just when weird couldn't get any weirder... he looks up to see Beth tapping at his door frame. Is St. John, the vampire... with her, right down the hall?" Come in, Beth, I thought you were taking the day off."

"I am, but I got an offer to go to New York for a week and do some reporting on the Whitley Trust... I guess I'm a vampire expert from my days at Buzzwire."

"What's the Whitley Trust and what does it have to do with vampires?"

"It's on the front page of the New York Times... John Whitley left his fortune in trust to a group of so-called vampire hunters. I'd like to do some reporting again... if you think there isn't a conflict of interest.”

"Only if these vampire hunters start hunting the vampires in LA, a rather unlikely scenario, don't you think?" Talbot watches the color drain from Beth's face and considers that she stole the list of so-called vampires from his office. "The problem with any sort of vigilante group is when they start targeting innocent people... so go, Beth, and keep your eyes open."


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“Beth,” Mick has mentioned her name several times before she snaps out of her distracted state of mind. “What did Talbot say that bothered you?” Mick is frowning and concerned, Talbot knows too much, he hates that Beth has to lie and steal information for him... for us... vampires.

“He was odd, I expected him to find the New York vamp hunters ridiculous. Instead he just said any kind of vigilante group… like the Legion, would be a genuine danger to innocent people. I think he knows I took the file.” Beth feels anxious at the thought of Talbot confronting her with her theft.

Mick reaches over to touch Beth’s hand, to reassure her with a gentle squeeze. “He hasn’t said anything?”

“No, it’s like he’s stopped looking for it and that’s not like him.”

They ride in silence until Mick pulls over at the curb near Beth’s apartment, “Hey, when we’re in New York, let’s go out on that date we missed the last time… we'll dress up and go some place nice.”

“Will we have time?” She can't help but remember the last time they were in New York, Mick trusting her, open... asking her to go downtown with him... to go out. The excuse that sounded empty even then... she wanted to make it up to him, make a new memory.

“We’ll make the time.” Mick smiles at her shyly, "To go out... like any other couple on a trip to New York."


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Josef’s private jet is waiting for them at the airport. Oscar is already on board but Beth is surprised to see Simone with a group of extremely attractive young men and women dressed in suits. Beth thinks, Are they all freshies? Business attire? Not what exactly what I imagined other freshies would look like.

“Beth,” Simone smiles, “It’s good to see you, I was afraid this trip was going to be all business, we’re looking into the legal approaches to controlling the Whitley Trust. Let me introduce you to the team.


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“Mick, this place looks like an early bordello.” They’ve arrived at a small hotel off of Times Square. In the high ceiling rooms and wide hallways dark reds and purples are the dominant colors, the furniture suggests Victorian styling and the lighting is low, stingy.

“Josef did pick this place," Mick says with a smirk, "we’re on the vampire floor.”

“Has anyone ever suggested vampire style needs a make over… It's so dark in here, just turning on my laptop is going to blind you people… and why..." Beth says in a tone of baffled exasperation. "Is the honeymoon suite on the vampire floor?”

Mick’s embarrassed and can’t look at Beth directly, “ah, it’s not ah… just ah… the honeymoon suite.”

“Oh…" Beth mutters in a whisper, “here I was thinking I was going to get lucky tonight,” knowing that Mick can hear her. She pushes by him roughly and drops her bags in the middle of the room. I will not think about luminal, I will not think about black lights, I will not think about why the bedding is all black and purple, I will not… “I’m taking a shower, a long one.”

After her shower, Beth, wearing a camisole top and boy short pajamas, looks at the king sized bed warily… “Mick!” she shouts.

“Hey, I can hear you,” he says with a grin as he walks out from the freezer room next door, shirtless and wearing his own pajamas.

“You’re sure no one was Turned in this bed?” Beth asks, her voice filled with apprehension. “That would be too weird.”

“Nope, I can’t smell a drop of blood anywhere on the bedding or mattress. The cost of ‘cleaning’ is probably included in the room.” He walks over to pull her into a hug, bending to nibble lightly at her lips. She shivers at the thought, skin all goose-bumps and nipples erect with the chill. Mick can feel them press sharply against his chest through the thin cotton of her pajamas… feeling protective and aroused at once, he lets his hands slowly slide down over Beth’s bottom. The fabric slides against her skin and he pulls her against him. Mick thinks, maybe this is the time and the place, as he lifts her into his arms.

“I love you.” Inhaling and savoring the smell of her damp skin, shampoo, soap and the musky aroma of her sex as well as the flavors of the room; clean cotton, naturally oiled furniture, the bouquet of tuberoses and lilies he ordered from the florist downstairs when Beth was in the shower… and beyond... Coraline! She’s outside the door.

It’s heartbreaking, then and now… Then, Coraline in his arms on his wedding night… he’s in love. Now, Beth in his arms now… he’s in love. He freezes, arms tightening around Beth… eyes glaze over silver, fangs long, Coraline is here to take him... and to take Beth away from him.


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Josef Kostan looks down the hall observing Coraline outside of Mick and Beth’s door. Oscar had alerted him to her visit and would have been more than willing to physically intervene, she would be so easy to kill right now… obsessed as she is with Mick. Coraline startles when Josef places a hand on her shoulder.

“Ahhhh, Coraline… It’s been such a long time since we’ve been in New York together… let’s reminisce in my room.” She won’t refuse… this floor is Josef Kostan’s territory… he’s taken every room. “I’ve finally met your charming brother, Coraline… and might I add he is the only reason you are alive right now.”

Josef’s room is done in grays and blacks. “Help yourself to a drink from the fridge, Coraline. This is a working visit, I can’t offer you fresh.” Josef thinks, you won’t drink from my freshies ever again. As they enter, he walks over to close the door on the adjoining room, where Simone and her team are researching the board members of the Whitley Trust, analyzing their financial interests and vulnerabilities.

“It’s time you moved on, Coraline, and let Mick live his life.” Josef looks at her; he’s never understood her obsessions, the drama she insists on creating in the name of love. Sex with her was always exciting, her freshies desperate to be bitten and scarred. Love for her is stalking, seduction, sex and pain, and Josef could never really join her as she burned. He sees her more clearly than ever; she’s addicted to Mick’s pain, guilt and love. Mick, you’re a better man than I’ll ever be… you remember that you loved her once… I would crush her for you if I could.

Coraline shrugs, “Beth will die, she can’t be Turned or ever offer Mick immortal love… I’ll be there to catch him when he falls… he always falls.” Finishing her drink, she walks from the room… daring Josef to catch her, stop her, fight her and fuck her.


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Beth looks up, Mick is beginning to frighten her; this intensity and that his mind is elsewhere, not in the present. Does he even know I’m here? She begins to breathe, counting the length of each inhale and exhale as Oscar has taught her. When her mind is calm she uses a matter of fact tone to say, “Mick, you’re squeezing me so hard I can’t breathe.”

“Oh…” he startles, “oh.” The reverie is broken. Mick lays her on the bed gently as if she is made from glass and then turns, incapable of facing her.

Beth gets up to wrap her arms around his waist, laying her head against his back. “What just happened, Mick?” Her voice is soft and soothing. She can feel Mick's hand reach up to cover her own.

“I thought I could make love to you… then Coraline, she was outside our door.” His voice was breathless and low, Beth could hear his pain and confusion.

“Oh, Mick…” she turns him around to face her, reaching up to push back his hair and then standing on her tip toes to kiss him gently on the lips. “Come lay down with me, tell me what Coraline did to you when she Turned you.”

“I knew I was dead, Beth... and somehow that Coraline had killed me. I was cold, not like the chills... I'd been around enough bodies in the war to know whatever thing ‘it’ is... soul, spirit, breath... that separates the living from the dead was gone. I was lying in my own blood. All my senses were focused on my pain... light hurt... hunger... and Coraline was more beautiful than ever... I really thought I was in hell. I had been alive, in love maybe... with the most amazing woman I had ever seen and then... I was dead and hungry, every appetite food, sex, emotion... burned to be satisfied... and Coraline was there... I needed her... I needed the monster... to be a monster with her. “


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Beth is sleeping and Oscar is guarding the door when Mick leaves to join Josef and Simone down the hall. The humans are looking a little frayed from the long hours; they’ve been working since they got on the plane. Fresh coffee and snacks are available at a table set to one side.

“Hey, Josef, Simone, what do we have?”

Simone smiles her gentle smile, “Whitley had a hard time finding board members willing to be publicly anti-vampire so it’s a small executive board only seven, all we need is four members willing to vote in our favor and we can control the board. She hands lists of the board members to Mick and Josef.

Dolores Whitley-Sanderson
Enrico Whitley
Bishop Racine
Edward Morris-Thaw
Jamie Van Allen
Franklin Graveside
Louise Fortune

“There appears to be a three person voting block; Dolores Whitley-Sanderson is John Whitley’s sister and Enrico Whitley is her son; they are likely to be tightfisted with the board’s money regardless of Whitley’s intentions. They are angry that Whitley didn’t leave his money to them and are going to resist any expenditure. They will be most interested in funneling money to projects which support their own interests. Enrico may be a problem in the future, his father was a polo player from Italy and he’s never worked a day in his life… for the moment he’s dependent on his mother’s allowance.

“Bishop Racine is close to Whitley-Sanderson, she’s a major benefactor of the Church here in New York. He’s against everything modern and is a supporter of the increased use of exorcism and a return to the Mass in Latin. They would all be trouble for us if the Pope issued an edict against vampires… the Pope however seems to have better things to do.”

Josef mutters, “Latin, the undead language… now that always works against vampires. It bores us to death.”

Mick suggests with a straight face, “Racine would endorse the effectiveness of holy water as vampire repellent or Enrico would support research on preventing vampire bats from feeding on polo ponies.”

“Fortunately Dan Brown, who wrote The Da Vinci Code, won't be writing any books about vampires and the Catholic Church."

“Josef, what did you do?"

“All his researchers also work for me.” Josef says with a smug smile

Simone yawns, “Will you two stop it… I’m not being paid enough to stay up and listen to you. Edward Morris-Thaw…”

Josef’s attention is immediately focused on matter at hand, “Morris-Thaw I will approach him personally.”

Simone adds, “Sorry, Mick, you and I will have Van Allen and Graveside… neither of whom can stay faithful to the women they marry.”

“Simone! I’m not going to entrap them with incriminating pictures of you, ah… y’know, sitting on their lap. Josef would kill me.”

“Mick, you’re blushing, or you would be… we’ll each take one and Louise Fortune is looking for investors for her new line of shoes, the Kostan Financial Group can approach her easily with an offer of capital investment. Whitley found her because there was a typo in her last press release ‘even vampires would kill for these shoes,’ read instead ‘kill vampires with these shoes.” Josef shutters at the thought of investing in Goth fashion.


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Mick arrives at their room with coffee and some newspapers; he tips the papers, an imperceptible salute to Oscar, who’s standing outside the door. “Beth told me about doing the crossword puzzle.”

Oscar smiles cryptically, “I have simple tastes, codes, anagrams and country music.” He walks away humming tunelessly Mama, don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys.

“What was Coraline up to?” Oscar asks.

Mick replies tiredly, “Josef dealt with her.”

Oscar’s tone of voice is fatalistic, he knows this isn’t the end of Coraline, and he pauses as if there were more to say. Finally, with a nod to indicate Beth, he says, “Luck… to you both,” and walks off down the corridor.

Beth is awake and dressed, sitting cross-legged on the bed, scrolling through files on her laptop, “Coffee... for me?" Mick grins at her as he steps to her over to hand her the coffee "Thanks, Mick.”

“You’re not usually this excited to go into the DA’s office,” Mick says handing her the coffee and dropping the papers on the bed.

“I miss it.” Sipping her coffee Beth makes a satisfied sound, as she continues to read articles on her computer. “I don’t miss the new Buzzwire. But I miss being a reporter…We have a staff meeting at the Daily Star at 7AM and the editor has arranged an interview with the Cable Access Show guys at 10. Oscar’s going as my audio/pod cast guy.” She looks up and catches Mick’s eye. “You’re giving me a look…”

“No. I’m not.” He looks away uncomfortably.

“Yes, you are… giving me THE look. The one that says, you expect me to do something stupid or dangerous.”

“I don’t think that…” Mick gives her a frustrated smile and then sobers again, "I worry..."

“Relax, we’re meeting the Legion of Vampire Hunters at the New York Public Library Video Production Facilities.” She looks up at him smiling, eyes sparkling, finally she gives the bed a little pat, indicating he should lie down and stretch out beside her while she works. As Mick lies down across the bed, one of the pillows is knocked aside.

“Beth, why is there a stake under this pillow?”

“Hmmmmm, yeah, Mick?” Beth answers in a distracted voice

“You’re keeping a stake in the bed!” Mick raises himself up on one elbow giving her a questioning look.

“Oh, toss that over by my purse, would you.” Damn it, Mick thinks, he can’t really read her emotions right now, is it because she is only half paying attention to him or is she so engrossed in her work?

“You weren’t planning to use that on me, were you?”

Beth leans back to give him a quick kiss, “No, I wasn’t, don’t be silly.” God, she’s been hanging out with Oscar too long… when did she get so stingy with information? “Relax, Mick.”


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Beth is definitely the newbie at the New York Daily Star staff meeting. She doesn’t rate a seat at the conference table and has to perch against the wall; her presence barely gets a nod from the other reporters and columnists. So what if Josef pulled strings to get her here, she’s going to enjoy it while she can. The headlines are amazing,* “Petcka testifies that he was terrorized by 7-lb. cat” “He towed cars & sold 'em – police” “Hey, I'm sittin' over here!” “Honor student suspended for 'noogie'” When the city editor introduces her and mentions that she will be reporting on the Whitley Trust and vampire… hunters, several people choke on their coffee.

“There’s nothing more in that story… those clowns have had their 15 minutes of fame… it’s over.”

Beth speaks up, “It’s not over if those so-called clowns decide to pursue vigilante justice. They’ve already accused Larry King of being a vampire… King can take care of himself. What if they decide their neighbor who stays up all night and sleeps days is a vampire? I reported a story in LA where a graduate student took his professor’s ‘vampire’ research way too seriously… two women died because the professor insisted he was a vampire.”

Low voiced comments of “whatever, dude” and “cool,” are muttered around the table before the subject is changed and a serious discussion ensues over the headline “Bronx Bigamist,” versus “Brooklyn Bigamist.” The guy in question apparently lived in Brooklyn while four of his five wives live in the Bronx and one in Queens. Fifteen minutes later they settle on headline 4 to 1 Bronx wives v Queens keep Brooklyn Bigamist Busy. “Pound it,” knuckles crash against knuckles in celebration of the headline while talk slowly winds down to talk of sports rivalries.

“Beth,” at the end of the meeting the city manager calls her over to his office, “We want to send a photographer with you.” As she walks into the office Beth is stunned to see Coraline, sitting in the city editor’s office, legs extended and elegantly crossed at the ankles. “I believe you’ve worked with Morgan Vincent before. She tells us that if vampires exist she can get the photographs.”

Morgan looks up from the chair beside the desk and looks at Beth with eyebrows arched and a long lazy smile, "Hello, Beth, it will be fun to work together again... just like old times."


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Simone looks at her watch for what seems like the thirtieth time in as many minutes. Franklin Graveside agreed to meet her at his Brooklyn studio. The assistant let her in and it’s obvious why John Whitley invited him on the board, he paints giant pictures of staked, dismembered and flayed vampires; dripping transparent washes in black and red to make the figures look like they are trapped in some liquid hell. Simone shudders at the thought of Josef confronted with these paintings. When Simone can no longer stand looking at the violence she turns to stare out windows overlooking the Brooklyn Bridge and Manhattan.

“Ms. Walker, I’m sorry I’m late, call me Frank.” Graveside doesn’t make immediate eye contact, he’s too busy undressing her in his mind. When he does look up he asks disingenuously, but with a good natured smile, “Have you ever modeled for an artist before?.” Hearing this from a short round hairy man, she’s got him pegged. Hits on every woman, happily cheats on his wife who tolerates him. Breathing a mental sigh of relief, she thinks, Thank god, I don’t have to sleep with him.

“No, I haven’t, I prefer presenting closing arguments before a judge.”

“Oh, you’re a lawyer, representing…”

“Kostan Financial Group, Mr. Kostan became intrigued with the Whitley Trust because he followed Mr. Whitley’s investments.”

Frank roars with laughter, “You’d be amazed how many people are curious. It’s such a bizarre way to leave your money, vampires and vampire hunters… pretty outrageous, huh. Still it’s good for me, vampires are in style and I may be able to sell a painting or two because I’m on the board.”

“Have any of these so-called vampire hunters approached the board for financial support?”

Frank is suddenly serious, “There’s the cable kids… not kids really, but I call them kids, the vampire conspiracy buffs, they just want to make a movie. There have been a few inquiries, scary guys who want surveillance equipment and weapons… I’m against that. I’m a vet from the first Iraq war and Bosnia… my shrink at the VA got me painting as therapy… I just Goth up my memories in vampire imagery and it sells.”

Simone thinks, no wonder the violence in the paintings looks so real, “Mr. Kostan’s interests are to prevent just that sort of private army that might target innocent people, especially people like himself with an Eastern European heritage.”

“No kidding, there are better things to do… war is real and there’s no such thing as vampires… I’m not approving anything to do with violence.” Frank shakes his head vigorously as if to shake off the somber tone of the conversation, “You should reconsider modeling for me… I think you would look fabulous as a vampire.”


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Beth stares fixedly out the window during the cab ride to the library. Fortunately Coraline is riding in the front seat. Beth tries to breathe and control her feelings but she feels so outmatched. Coraline claims the attention of almost every man present just by walking into a room Standing too close to them, talking in that low breathy voice that requires a man to lean in too hear her… then she’s her hands are one them... touching them. Beth sees Mick in every one of them… helpless against her charms. Think, Beth… If she’s with you… she’s not with Mick. Look at Oscar, he’s immune… and he growled when Coraline tried to claim the seat next to her in the cab. Inhale Turner… breathe out… repeat… If she’s with you… she’s not with Mick.


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It’s early still. Mick could use more time in the freezer after a long night. He tries not to think about his conversation with Beth about Coraline. Sex and blood, just knowing Coraline’s around sends his mind racing down memories of sex so violent they had to call for clean-up. Mick runs his hand through his hair and across his chin…he should have shaved.

The Van Allen’s apartment is on 5th avenue overlooking Central Park. Mick rides the elevator to the top floor… before the door is even open he can smell gunpowder and blood. The apartment door is ajar and Mick approaches cautiously, gun drawn. Just inside the door a man and woman are lying crumpled together dead… very little blood is pooled around the bodies which have cooled slightly… they’ve been dead a half hour or so. Beyond the foyer he can see a woman with blonde hair, which is graying and cut short sitting dejectedly on the couch, gun in hand. She is very thin and livid bruises mark the length of both arms, some old, green and yellow others new, blue and purple. It’s a room done all in white, high ceilings, pale furniture and accessories; a cold white light filters through sheer curtains. What happened here?

The blonde had tried to block the woman lying on the floor from entering the apartment… asking, begging, “Jamie, please don’t bring your girls here, let me have this one place… I grew up here. He’d just grabbed her forearm in a crushing grip and dragged her out of the way of the new girlfriend. The wife had been just a minor obstacle on the way to the liquor cabinet.

Mick can smell the blonde’s memories of this place, growing up here, happier days and the loneliness, the kids are gone. Her husband had been fun once, another big kid with their two boys, the fun dad an anti-workaholic in sharp contrast to her own father who had been driven and largely absent. Jamie had been the kid’s buddy but was always critical of her, the little rich girl. She notices him standing there and lifts the gun to her head… Mick is quicker than her intentions, disarming her.

“Did he do this to you?” Mick indicates her arms.

She nods and asks, “Who are you… and why did you stop me… there’s not going to be any more good days.” Her eyes are hollow, the life already gone.

“I’m Mick St. John I was going to meet with your husband about the Whitley Trust, you're Grace Van Allen, right?”

Grace swallows and nods before she begins to talk slowly, “Jamie said he wanted more to do… It was a favor to John Whitley, he couldn’t find board members and he was my godfather… I’m the alternate now that Jamie’s dead. I don’t suppose I will be able to serve from prison.”

Mick sits beside her listens to her talk about her husband’s downward spiral, his multiple trips to rehab and how the children stay away because she won’t, rather wouldn’t leave him… faithful to memories of better days… “I couldn’t take it any more…"Her voice cracks with raw emotions. "Especially my part... I couldn't stand up for myself.” Her cold eyes slowly look up to meet Mick's.

“If I gave you the gun back, would you kill yourself?” Mick needs to know, he can’t make an offer if she’s already dead in her own mind.

“No… I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Talking to you, I realize there are still good memories… if I died I wouldn’t have those memories.”

“I can make this go away?”

“What? Why?” She looks at him with confusion and disbelief.

“I’d like to say that you don’t deserve to go to prison, that you’re an abused spouse but I want a favor. I work for a man who is concerned that so-called vampire hunting to be funded by the Whitley Trust, will be used an excuse to target immigrants and minority populations. He’s lobbying board members to prevent this.”

She looks at Mick like this is a bad dream that maybe she could wake up from.

“Get dressed and I’ll take you out to discuss this over coffee.”

“Why should I do this?”

“Are you ready to leave your sons alone and miss the rest of their lives?”

“I don’t believe this is possible… but I’ll listen.” She walks slowly toward the back of the apartment to get dressed.

Mick gets out his phone, “Clean up needed.”


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When Coraline sees Tyson and his buddy TJ, the two guys with the cable access show that claims “Vampires are Real,” leans over to Beth and laughs quietly… “I wish I could show these guys a real vampire.” Tyson and TJ can’t even pull off the coolness of basic black. They aren’t emaciated enough to look Goth, don’t wear enough makeup to appear EMO, even their tattoos don’t look threatening and they aren’t pudgy enough to look like total pathetic geeks. They look like community college students who stalled halfway to an Associates degree in Communications. TJ is slightly thinner and an inch or two taller. He wears his hair clipper-cut short while Tyson’s hair is longer and curls slightly. He is one of those guys who never looks clean shaven and gave up years ago.

“Hey, I’m Beth Turner,” she nearly says ‘from Buzzwire,’ I’m freelancing for the Daily Star.

Coraline glides past Beth, arm outstretched to shake hands. She holds Tyson’s and then TJ’s hand just a little longer than necessary. “Morgan Vincent, photographer, I’m hoping that you will help me find away to photograph a real vampire.”

Tyson is the talker, “We could show you pictures… we have a list… but we haven’t had the resources to track down these people or the time to do research.” For a moment Beth, Coraline and Oscar are all united, they have got to stop this… “We invited a potential producer to his meeting. We want to do a documentary for the history channel since a lot of the names we have are historical. This must be them, Jim and a…”

Who are these guys? Beth thinks. This doesn't look good. Speaking up sharply she says, “We could only reserve an hour here at the library, so let’s get this interview going… we can talk about a documentary later.” Beth hustles the TJ and Tyson into the production room. Oscar’s got her back. She gets the door closed, latched and finds a wood door jam to wedge the green metal door shut. Kicking it under the door as hard as she can with the heel of her boot... it’s not much but it will have to do.

“What’s this about?” TJ demands. Beth thinks, Shit, all I have is a stake… it was good enough for human Coraline…

“You’re not the only one who believes in vampires. How well do you know those guys?” Sounds of the fight are muffled by the sound proof door but they can still hear dull thuds and rough voices and growls.

“We just talked to them on the phone and asked them to meet us here.”

Beth rolls her eyes, “Give me the list.” Thank god… mostly historical figures and the most recent names on the list are penciled in: Elvis Presley… did Colonel Tom Parker continue to represent him after he was turned…? Bruce Lee and Tupac… “You’re saying those two guys are vampires… really vampires.”

Beth is mad, these guys are a danger to themselves, “No I’m not saying they are vampires… there are other vampire hunter wannabees who want money from the Trust… God what stupid idea! A Trust for hunting vampires!” The sounds from the hallway recede and sixty minutes slowly pass.

At some point Tyson raises his hand timidly like he is in school, “Are you a vampire slayer… y’know… like Buffy?” Beth almost laughs out loud when she thinks about the stake in her purse and manages to turns the snort into a cough. “No, I’m a journalist.” Finally her phone rings and Oscar is lets her know that it’s safe for them to come out.

Coraline and Oscar look immaculate when Beth and the boys exit the production room, Beth takes charge, “Morgan you take care of these two… I’m sure Mick would expect you to keep them safe, until someone from the trust takes over.”

TJ and Tyson can’t believe their luck, even Beth can hear TJ whisper to his friend, “Do you think she’ll have my baby?”

Without looking back Beth walks away with Oscar following her. At the end of hall he reaches forward to hold the door open for Beth and takes a moment to look back at Coraline with a smirk.


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Josef Voice Over: The only thing more undead than vampires is corporations and trust funds... Whoever said, "when you want something done right do it yourself, they sure as hell weren't talking about asking your friends... AND WHEN IN HELL'S NAME did Josef Kostans find himself with friends whose good opinion mattered... can't we just kill someone. I'd rather face a torch bearing mob... of course Beth is already looking for the matches... Simone still respects and fears me... or does she. I intend to sound threatening but I only sound whiny when I say.

"Can't we do more to guarantee the board votes in our favor."

Mick is frustrated, "What, like threatening someone with scary vampire vengeance... the wife already thinks I'm a hit man for the mob."

Beth explodes, "Damn all you wealthy bastards. You steal a rich man's daughter and he declares war... these other people are innocent bystanders."

Josef protests, "They had a list."

"An ancient list with Elvis on it, Elvis! Even if all those people were vampires."

"They are."

"It doesn't say who they are now..."

"And Beth, Elvis is dead, he kept showing up at the Piggly-Wiggly in Memphis to buy smokes... I've lost track of the number of Elvis impersonators on the payroll."

Beth's temper tantrum has given Simone courage to speak up although she still looks scared and her voice is shaky when she says, "I was ready to sleep with this painter if I had too..." will Josef dump her or worse, "He may hit on every woman who comes within range... but he's a decent guy." Simone gains confidence as she presents the facts, "completely anti-violence and for personal liberty and privacy. I did more research, he volunteers to work with wounded veterans at the VA... his paintings are more for personal therapy than anything else.

Beth stomps out of the room. Mick is a step or two behind her, ready to stop her if he has too. Oscar is waiting outside the door to Josef's room and gives Mick a nod, acknowledging that he's watching over Beth now. Mick sighs and turns to go back to the argument with Josef... he can't really leave Simone unsupported as she makes her case, especially if she's taking on Josef Kostan, the vampire institution.


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Beth kicks off her shoes and dumps her bag on the bed. How, she thinks, is she going to spin the Whitley Trust, NINJA ASSASSINS ATTACK DORKS IN THE NY PUBLIC LIBRARY, HOW SAFE IS CABLE ACCESS, WHEN TO SHARPEN THE STAKE, EXPOSE: BUFFY USED RUBBER STAKES. She spreads out her notes on the bed and with her purse to one side sits cross-legged and begins to type.

"LEGION KIDS, VAMP HUNTERS WITH HEART. Tyson and TJ, best friends since preschool expressed hope that the Whitley Trust Fund will support their efforts to produce a serious documentary on the subject of vampires. Tyson maintains that his previous comments about hunting vampires were taken out of context, 'Every 10 year old wants to be Van Helsing man of action, man of science. Recently we talked with a photographer who assured me that vampires can be photographed. Like, how cool is that! Real vampires, no more stupid special effects... remember alien autopsy... I believed it when I was eight... now I'm just embarrassed. If we can elevate the subject of vampires to the level of serious discussion, I can die happy.'"

Beth thinks, you two could have died today. She continues typing. "John Whitley, suspicious, paranoid and possibly deeply prejudiced against immigrants prepared a mission statement which defined the goal of the Trust as 'exposing the hidden danger of vampires among us.' It is easy to imagine words such as, 'communist,' decadents,
undesirables or any other marginalized group could easily replace the word vampire. This mission statement represents the worst failings of humanity..."

Coraline watches Beth from the doorway of the freezer room, What does Mick see in this human, other than his pathetic need to be seen as good? Coraline had liked that part of Mick but only as a kind of foreplay. Mick would want to patch up their relationship by pretending they were an ordinary couple. She could stroke his ego so easily just by being nice to him... He wanted her obsessively... she could smell it... when he wouldn't be denied... when he smashed the window to get to her... tiny shards of glass rained down on him... slicing invisible cuts... she could smell that he would bleed for her and that "goodness" was just pretense... he would fall and she could show him everything.

"Hi, Beth," Coraline saunters over and looks down at Beth... Coraline enjoys the taste/smell of anger/fear and maybe an edge of grief as Beth's heart rate increases. "You belong to us, vampires made you, bred you for your blood type... just like I made Mick." She walks around the bed, viewing Beth from all angles, considering..."He's afraid to take you..." Coraline inhales, "afraid of your passion..." Pausing at the foot of the bed, Coraline's words are dismissive. "You're no angel and he still sees you as a child... you can't meet his needs, fulfill him or catch him when he falls..." In her softest most seductive voice she whispers, "He will destroy you, degrade you, ruin you for the compound... and then we will destroy him."

Thump thump thump thump Beth stares at the screen of her computer... she refuses to look at Coraline. Her heart is pounding, accelerated but steady, tears are leaking from her eyes but she won't stop crying or be distracted by her body’s response. There it is ... the adrenaline dump that extends time, Coraline takes her chin in a strong hand "LOOK AT ME!" forcing Beth to turn her head and stare into Coraline's eyes. THUMP, a thick crushing sound, like stepping on a bug. Coraline's eyes glaze over and staked by Beth, she falls back on the floor beside the bed.


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Mick pauses outside their door unsure of what he will say to Beth, "Thanks, Oscar... for everything." Oscar nods, an abbreviated motion and leaves without another word. Josef is ruthless, he hates diplomacy and unresolved human... emotions. I hope he listens to us.

Coraline! Dammit! Mick freezes when he sees her lying on the floor. His instinct is to rush over and pick her up... even staked she is alluring, red lips parted, legs buckled beneath her body. The position of her legs arches her back and pushes her breasts against the thin fabric of her blouse. It twists his gut and arouses him. Mick clenches his fists and forces himself to scent the air... Beth...

"Beth!" His voice is frantic as he calls her name again.

"Beth!" She's here... in the bathroom... rage and grief... throwing up... Mick's by her side in a flash... pulling her hair back handing her a cold wash cloth... a glass of water. It sets his teeth on edge as he smells/sees Coraline touching Beth...he pushes aside the cold rage that's growing inside him. Coraline can wait... Beth needs me now.

"Hey," he offers Beth a hand up and pulls her into his arms, to hold her tight. Long minutes pass until Beth tips her head up to look at Mick, searching his face. Brushing the back of his hand against her damp cheek he whispers, "You and me, babe, you and me." Her heart beat slows and Beth she holds herself a little less rigidly as Mick strokes her hair. "Let's go down to the bar, I need a drink, how 'bout you?"

Not yet trusting herself to speak Beth nods, returning a gentle smile Mick says, "Some one will pick up the mess in here before we get back."

With unblinking eyes Coraline watches Mick guide Beth from the room, strong hand resting at the small of her back.


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Josef surveys the room. The board for Whitley Trust has agreed to be his guests in a private gallery at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Oversized portraits of golden age robber barons and captains of industry look down on the guests. Mick and Beth have stopped to talk to Van Allen's wife. Beth is lovely in a dress that clings to her curves, a flowing fabric which brushes against her thighs and knees when she moves. Josef listens from a distance as Beth reassures her, "Grace, Mick told me what happened, he's saved my life more than once, he's a good guy... he'll take care of you."

Simone is on his arm, charming their guests and quietly reporting to Josef the nature of their interests and the state of their assets. Her willingness to agree with Mick and take his side against him causes Josef to reappraise her, valuing her counsel. She's willing fight him for the truth. With a self assured smile she says, "Josef let me introduce Edward Thaw-Morris, he's been a hard man to reach."

More than a century has passed since he last saw Thaw-Morris, "Joe, I believe we met some time ago, to discuss my brother Harry."

"I remember it well Eddie, I never expected that I would find you "unchanged" after all these years."

"One of us had to take the long term view of the family interests after Harry shot Stanford White. Since I almost died once when my lovely aunt tried to poison me, I wasn't keen on repeating the experience so I switched teams. So what do you think of the board Joe?"

"My associates assure me that Van Allen, Graveside and Fortune are reasonable people and then there is you Eddie... I think we can all work together. Shall we have a drink later, say before the sun comes up."

"I will gladly drink to our interests before the sun rises on another day."


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Heart and soul

Mick walked to where Beth was standing, his hands in his pockets, and a soft smug grin on his face. He eased himself behind her, taking a moment to inhale her sweet scent, closing his eyes, letting it wash over him. He could feel ever fiber of his body call her name. Before he opened his eyes he leaned close to her ear and spoke softly.

“Do you want to get out of here? I think we’ve done our duty, as far as Josef is concerned.” Mick couldn’t help but smile just a little more as Beth jumped. She quickly turned and swatted his arm, her hand covering her heart.

“Stop doing that…” She was breathless, for more than one reason, the feel of his cool breath behind her ear and the thrill of his voice always set her heart racing. He’d been attentive all evening, watching and worrying as she slowly relaxed from the confrontation with Coraline.

“What?” He said innocently. Beth quirked and eyebrow and shook her head. Mick continued,” Josef’s got things under control, turns out there’s a vamp on the board. He and Josef are reminiscing about old New York.”

“Where are we going?” She said as she took his arm. Mick rubbed his mouth, trying to keep himself from chuckling.

“It’s a surprise.” He held the door open as they left the Met walking to the curb. There was a horse drawn carriage waiting at the end of the steps, the ones that toured around Central Park. Beth turned her head and smiled sweetly at Mick.

“Surprise huh…” Beth had a pretty good idea of what he was planning.

“As I recall a beautiful blonde told me she would give me a rain check.” He couldn’t help but smile. He dipped his head toward her lips, placing on them a soft chaste kiss. As he pulled back he held her eyes with his and then he looked toward the carriage and nodded his head in that direction. Beth gave him a beaming smile as she held his hand tight. Mick helped her into the carriage and then stepped in beside her, pulling her close to him. Mick told the driver to take them through the park and telling them their next destination.

Beth eased back into Mick’s arms as the carriage toured around the park. She wondered if this is what he had in mind the first time they were in New York together. She closed her eyes and smiled as she felt him press a soft kiss to her forehead, his hand stroking her shoulder. For the first time since arriving she felt safe and comforted. All of the emotions surrounding the thought of Coraline, of staking her (twice) and her own reaction to Mick’s tormented and mixed feelings toward his ex-wife receded. This ride was the very balm she needed for her frazzled nerves.

When Beth finally opened her eyes the carriage had stopped in front of a restaurant. Mick stepped out, placed his hands to Beth’s waist to lift her up and out of the carriage and then pulling her toward him. His lips found hers immediately kissing her tenderly, softly, leaving her more than a little breathless.

“Steak for the lady?” Beth said finally. Mick smiled against her lips and gave a wink. He laced his fingers with hers and guided her inside, giving the hostess his name and they followed her to a small table in the back of the restaurant. Mick ordered the wine and steak for Beth. He took her hand again and gave it a gentle kiss. This evening was for her, reassuring her of his love, making sure she relaxed and unwound. He never meant for this trip to bring more trauma into their relationship. It was merely supposed to be damage control for Josef over the Whitley Trust, instead it became so much more, dragging his past into their present and his hopes for a future together.

Their conversation was light and they shared the occasional giggle over dinner. Then Mick took her down to the Village Vanguard
where they listened to Brian Blade while drinking Martini’s, Mick quintessential New York date was finally complete. Beth was laughing easily, happy and relaxed.

They walked hand in hand back toward their hotel, Mick telling tales of how New York looked during WWII, when he came back home on the Queen Mary, wounded but alive. “None of the nurses would pay attention to me they all had dates with returning GI’s and sailors.” How the streets seemed so different than now. Beth pulled herself tighter into his embrace, just enjoying being near him, their cares and worries temporarily forgotten, except by Mick. His mind once again drifted back to what had happened and he felt the need to apologies.

"I, ah.. I wanted to apologize, for Coraline, earlier…" He stopped in the middle of the street, one hand holding hers, the other in his pocket his head bowed. He hated that she seemed to be in constant danger, he hated that he hadn't kept her safe from Coraline. Beth stepped closer to him, touching his cheek with her hand, tracing his jaw to his chin. His hazel eyes slowly traveled up to meet with her ocean blue, it was like his soul was set on fire.

"It isn't your fault, I don't want you apologizing for Coraline. I … I really don't regret staking her. Not this time Mick. She said horrible things about you and us. And I guess I finally had enough. I hate how she can come in, and turn your world and mine upside down. She's your sire Mick, I can't pretend to understand what that's like for you. I don't want her between us, even in your mind... I want all of you."

“You have all of me.” Mick touched her cheek stroking it lightly. “She won’t get near you again, I won’t ever let that happen. I love you.” Mick wiped a single tear from her cheek. As he stared into her blue eyes, he felt drawn to her, pulled by the need to feel her against him. His first brush against her lips was chaste and soft, but with each touch, each caress he crushed her to him, devouring her lips with his. Beth moaned from this searing kiss, parting her lips ever so little, giving Mick the only invitation he needed to taste the sweet spice that was with in. She clung to his neck, her breath being taking away by his sudden need, she traced her tongue along a fang, a rumble issued from his chest, and Mick began to ease his ardent kisses against her pink swollen lips. He smiled against her lips as he kissed her again, feeling her tremble in his arms. He pressed his lips to her forehead and released a shaky breath. He took her hand into his and they headed back inside their hotel.


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Josef Kostan looks around the empty town house... it was a home of sorts when Sara, lost in between Sara, was still here. He hasn't been back since November... one day shortly after his last visit she had just slipped away. It was like secret of their love couldn't stand being dragged into the light of day. Josef smiles a cynical smile, Mick knew, Beth knew, he'd loved and been loved... nothing would ever be the same.

Simone, another human woman, what was he going to do? She had demanded consideration as an equal today. Charles Fitzgerald, Josef Kostan was either going to have to leave her or turn her, fuck!


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Outside, Coraline wonders who's inside the town house, is it Josef or is he turning her back over to Lance? Oscar escorts her wordlessly to the front door, the sleeves of her black trench coat covering silver handcuffs. The front door is unlocked and Oscar gives Coraline a stiff fingered shove that sends her stumbling into the foyer. She's relieved, it's only Josef but she can't read him. Is he really emotionless or are her senses dulled by the silver. She remembers the first time he saw Mick. "Why didn't you invite the young man in?" Josef had said with a smile, "or do you have plans for this one?" Love? Josef had laughed cynically when she had used the word, love with a human always ended badly, "He loves you but he doesn't see you... call him back for a drink." and echoing the young man's words Josef said, "let's have some fun."

With no furniture in sight, Josef leans against the window frame. "Mick still isn't much of a vampire, Coraline."

"He's mine, Josef, he'll always he mine."

"You're still sure about that"

"He loves me."

Josef looks at Coraline, eyebrows arched. "I'm not sure you know what love is. What do you smell in this place?"

She inhales the smell of a sick room, a vigil that lasted more than half a century... is this love or loyalty?

"I smell loyalty and loss... too bad for you, Josef... I thought you were stronger.

Josef responds with a hiss, "Loyalty, tell me what is the price of your loyalty. I can end this war simply by killing Beth. If I kill Beth, I kill Mick's only reason for living. I neither need nor want the compound, my interests died in these rooms." Josef pauses, to let Coraline consider his words. "I know where the rest of the compound is hidden, that you gave it to Oscar and he passed it off. It's beyond your reach... so whose side are you on?"


* Real headlines from New York Papers


Author: Mxwwmickd