CHAPTER 11 Monday, October 24, 1994 Put Your Sweet Lips aLittle Closer to the Phone By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy walked into the back room at the Raven, to see a considerable group. She didn't recognize any of them except Janette, who approached her. "Ah, Betsy. No time for greetings, did you make the call?" "Um, not yet, I just got here, I..." "Well, what are you waiting for? I have you people around to make my job easier! Go, go! When you're done, you and the others can go shopping, it will be day soon." She dropped her cigarrette and stared at Betsy until Betsy picked it up for her. When Betsy started walking to her office, Janette stopped her. "No, go to the pay phone outside." Five minutes later, Sandra Gray's house *Ring, ring!* "What time is it? Four-thirty! Who on earth would... Hello?" The operator's nasal tone grated on the other end, "I have a collect call for Sandra Gray from a," the phone clicked over to a familiar voice, "Nick Knight. Will you accept the charges?" "Nick!" she looked over at her sleeping husband, and hushed her voice, "Of course I will!" Sandra didn't even stop to wonder why Nick would call collect. "Nick, what is it?" "I need your help" "What? What can I do?" There was a muffled sound, and then, "...here, in Toronto" By then Sandra was fully awake. "You want me to come there? Why?" Then there was a whirr and a click, and some muffled giggling. "I'm sorry Sandra, dear," a new, female voice said, "I don't have any more on the tape, I had to make it in quite a hurry. The Ravenettes just wanted to send you a wake up call. If you want to get reimbursed for this collect call, you'll have to come to Toronto to get it. You might want to come anyway, Nick's going to need all the protection he can get." "Why you..." Sandra didn't bother keeping her voice down, she was furious. "Oh, and another thing, Sandra," Betsy continued, "I dialed zero to make this call." Sandra dropped the phone and gasped. The horror! She came to her senses and picked up the phone just in time to hear the *click* on the other end. Getting There is Only Half the Fun By Lorelei Feldman Lorelei finally arrived, and got everything up to the hotel rooms where the Ravens and Ravenettes were staying. Very impressive! *Definitely chose the right affiliation! Class and style; Jeanette does things right!* She plopped down on the bed, exhausted, and wondered if there were time to take a brief rest before anything happened. She couldn't wait to meet the others, and find out how everything was going. She thought she'd made a good start, herself. Being rather new to the list and the war, she'd been uncertain of anyone's weaknesses. Still, there had to be something she could do, something that would be annoying to anyone. And it had to be done quickly, since she'd only had a few hours between getting the ticket and the time her plane left. Then, she'd thought of it. Grinning wickedly, she'd gotten the Knightie Perri's address and picked up the Yellow Pages. Quickly, she'd called up every annoying mail-marketing service: lingerie, obscene T-shirts, gadgets-you've-probably-seen-on-TV-and-didn't-want-them - then, cutesy little country-style home decorations, all of them. She'd added Perri to their lists; immediate delivery of current issues, and lifetime subscriptions therafter. Just for extra measure, she'd called AmEx and Citibank as well, and requested applications on Perri's behalf. Laughing maniacally, she'd headed for the airport. While at the airport, a thought had occurred to her, and she'd called up MCI to say she knew someone who would just love to join.... Night flights were always the best, when the cities spread out underneath you like huge, lit-up circuitry boards, and you could see all the stars you never could from the ground. Unfortunately, Lorelei never got to apreciate much of it this time. That last one kept her giggling all the way to Toronto. *** Sitting on the hotel bed, Lorelei suddenly realised that her little joke might go completely unrecognized as such; surely everyone got these annoying little things at some time or another, so what was there to connect this with the war? After all, it was hardly fun if they didn't know it was happening. Thinking quickly, she called back the mailing lists she'd notified and asked if she could make those "gift subscriptions". It might take a little longer, but then again, getting those little "notification cards" in the mail before the actual magazines might just prolong the torture, and it would make it much more difficult for the poor Knightie to cancel them. Although, the service desks did sound a little confused when she told them the gift- giver was "Ravenette". Cousin Caile Relates Her (Mis)Adventures By Caile Donachaidh Kane Well, I must say I was mightily annoyed last night when, as I sat in my dorm room fuming over my breakup with my boyfriend and working on the presentation for French class that had to be delivered at nine am the next morning, two burly men in ski masks opened my door, knocked me over the head, and carried me off. I struggled valiantly, but it's terribly hard to sink your teeth in someone's neck while your hands are being bound behind your back. I was also gagged - not, as the one "gentleman" explained to me, to keep me from yelling, but to get me to stop biting. I believe he was somewhat peeved over the near loss of his thumb. I was toted down the back stairs then, and stuffed into the back of a rather cramped mini-wagon. In the next few hours, during a long car ride in which I was allowed only *one* cigarette (the fiends!) I learned that the ends of their vile mission was to strip me naked, make unflattering jokes about my (lack of) tan lines, and at the last, disguised as garbage men, dump me unceremoniously into a New York Port Authority dumpster. I reiterate - MIGHTILY annoyed. After about an hour, I managed to chew through the gag (always knew that $6000 in orthodontistry would come in handy) and started screaming my head off. A passer-by heard my cries, and alerted the police. So, at about seven o'clock, I was fished out of the dumpster by two of New York's finest. My first words to them were "GIVE ME A CIGARETTE AND SOME CLOTHES, NOW! PLEASE!" So then, clad in only a wool rescue blanket and a NYPD jacket, I was transported uptown to HQ. All the way, I puffed madly on the Camel Non-filters I bummed from the one cop and muttered to myself about this bloody war, and boy was Uncle gonna be *very* p***ed, and damned Ravenettes have all the nerve, don't they... until I succeeded in confusing and frightening those two poor cops beyond belief. The fact that I smelled like something fished out of a NYC dumpster (which in fact I had, but so what? `Twasn't *my* fault) was not helping matters. After we arrived, I was able to take a shower and get into some "Property of NYPD" sweats, and then I was escorted in to meet the captain. As I walked in the door, I noted a box bearing the pink & orange logo of "Dunkin Donuts" on the desk and thought . He stood up, brushing crumbs from his exceptionally loud tie and extended his hand in warm welcome. Actually, he shook my arm off while saying "Just how da frig didja end up in dat dumpsta?!" "Sir," I said semi-calmly, while eyeing the carton of Marlboro 100's on his shelf, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Siddown, and tell me anyway." He gestured to the chair next to me. "You want somethin'? A drink? A smoke?" I sat down in the chair, and asked "Could I have a pack of cigarettes, please?" He gave me one, and a book of matches. I packed them frantically and lit one. "Now give," said the captain. "Well you see, there's kind of a war going on, amongst some friends on the Internet..." "Internet? Izzat dat computer s**t?" "Yes, sir. Well anyway, it was supposed to be just a friendly little thing, nothing more than playing practical jokes, you see, but someone, and I think I know who, has gotten a little more serious than playing." I carefully kept my mouth shut about the supernatural aspects of the war. "I see. And the boys who brought ya in - said you made mention of an Uncle of yours? And what's your name? Are ya from New Yawk? I figger you ain't got any ID, since ya were found without clothes, but... is there someone ya can call?" My thoughts raced. My family is staying out of this. What should I tell this meathead? "My name is Caile Donachaidh Kane. I live in upstate New York, and I am a student at Alfred University in Alfred, New York. I would like to call my Uncle, who lives in Toronto. Reversed charges, of course." He nodded stupidly. "O' course, ya can use this phone right here. I'll leave ya to your call, and then we can see `bout gettin' ya back home." He then left, and I pounced on the phone. I had committed the number to memory as soon as I had recieved it only days before. Cousin John had sent it on to me in an e-mail detailing the war plans. The phone rang close to ten times before I heard Uncle's voice say "This had best be important..." "Uncle??" I said. "I need help." "Caile?" His tone of voice switched from impatience to almost a purr. "What's the matter?" "The Ravenettes had me kidnapped, and thrown naked into a New York City dumpster." When dealing with Uncle, it was best to avoid lengthy explanations. I heard the smashing of glass in the background and a guttural curse that sounded something like "Damned Janette." Then Uncle came back on the line and said to me: "Everything will be fine, chere. I will wire you some money, so you can buy some clothes, and a ticket back to school. Where are you now?" "The police station. NYPD headquarters." "Ah, good. You know Nicolas and I are cooperating in this war; I will have him call the captain and make arrangements for your return." He paused. "On second thought, however,it may be best to stay away from school for a time, until all of this is over. Would you like to stay with me, for a while? I could buy your A's for the semester if you like. Besides, I could use your computer skills." My heart skipped a beat. An invitation from Uncle? Extended to a novice like myself? Oh, it was too good to be true! "Yes, Uncle, I would love to. But... I haven't any clothes! Or anything! Everything is at school!" He chuckled. "Just have Saks bill `Monsieur Lacroix'. They know where to send it. I'll fax you a letter stating that you are my niece, and that they should accomodate your every desire. Also, I will wire you the money for your ticket. And now, chere, I must call Nicolas, and then, I really must get back to sleep. Au revoir, and I will see you tonight." He broke the connection. Within the next few hours, I recieved a wire for $1500 dollars which caused the police captian's eyes to bulge out in the most vulgar manner. I also recieved a quasi- comforting telephone call from Nick, who intimidated the police captain in such a way that it made me wonder if vampires could hypnotise over the telephone. The fax from Uncle also arrived, which I used at Saks with smashing results. And then, in a wholly satisfying action, I used the leftover plane ticket money to buy several cartons of cigarettes. *** I sit writing this on Uncle's pc. He's out hunting, er... *having* dinner right now. I expect him back any moment. Ahhh. The Ravenettes have congregated only blocks away. The war has begun. Revenge is a b****, and so are angry Cousins. Sleep tight, kids. On to Toronto By Jill Bradley Jill paused as she riffled through her mail. YES! The ticket had arrived from Janette! She admired the envelope with its Raven logo in place of a return address, then began to plan frantically. The flight was in less than two hours-- Janette could have warned her, she thought grimly. Oh well, it was time to see how organized she really was. *** As the lights of Phoenix dropped away below her, Jill leaned back and drew a deep breath. She had been quite the gypsy in her youth, but it was certainly different now, with a child and two giant dogs to care for. Lucky for her, one of her potential converts was willing to stay with the troop. It was a good chance to watch all the Forever Knight videos in Jill's library. Jill smiled happily. Not only was she actually on her way to the city of the Raven, but it was almost certain she would have Alicia converted by her return. She closed her eyes, trying to rest, secure in the knowledge that she would have little rest once she arrived in Toronto. Janette would not admit it, but she would be pleased by the Ravenettes rallying to her side. Cat-Astrophe Overtakes Lisa By Lisa McDavid "No." Lisa McDavid spoke with complete calm. Too much calm, in fact. An uninformed listener might have been pardoned for supposing that the alleged Ceclor in her purse was mislabelled Thorazine. Karin, however, was not uninformed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Lisa, I'm not asking you for the moon, just tell Larry we need him. I'm not even asking you to know why." "You've lost Susan, of course. Yes, I heard about that. Alma thought it was hilarious. They've got a pool going at the Raven, you know, on just how long it will take the Enforcers to drain you and Jennise once Dorian finds out. I believe they're timing the bets in nanoseconds." Lisa's chair creaked as she leaned back. "I'm not in it, you understand. Miklos wouldn't take a bet of less than zero." "How nice to hear you have confidence in us! Look, Lisa, what do you think's going to happen once Dorian starts personally tracing Susan?" "I hope we'll find out Susan didn't learn to shoot from the Toms River cops. Or do you happen to have a spare copier?" "Dorian'll start hauling in Susan's beta readers, that's what," snapped Karin. "And you're the only one who's been neutral so far. Even Alexandra could figure out that means you're the one she's most likely to run to. So you'd better get hold of Larry and get him started tracing her credit cards." Lisa laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "Larry who?" "Never mind the insanity plea," Karin said. "Or have you forgotten saying blood's thicker than water?" "That was our mother. What I said was that Larry's head is thicker than Mount Rushmore. I don't know where little brother is. Somewhere sunny, I hope, preferrably getting a good tan. I told him I was through bailing him out after last time, and I meant it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I just found someone on Autocat who can read 16th century Bulgarian ...." "Lisa, Lisa, I hoped we wouldn't have to do this. I really did." Jennise's voice replaced Karin's. "Have you counted your cats lately?" "You, you -- even LaCroix wouldn't be that fiendish!" Lisa's veneer of sophistication vanished. Jennise had clearly graduated with honors from the LaCroix school of phone manners. "Why, thank you! We do try." "All right. I'll do anything. Including finding Larry." Karin resumed the phone. "I was sure you'd see reason!" "What I'm seeing is red. Ok, I'll be up there as soon as I can get a flight to Newark. If you're going to hold my cats hostage, you hold me with them." Hostage Situation By Karin Welss At Susan Garrett's apartment in Tom's River, NJ "A---choooo!" Karin winced for the twelfth or thirteenth time as Lisa Merlin McDavid sneezed pitifully into a lace-embroidered hankie. New Jersey, it seemed had brought little relief from the allergies that had plagued Larry Merlin's sister in South Carolina. Somewhere in the depths of the dim, book-lined apartment, one of Lisa's cat yowled and hissed furiously, followed almost immediately by the shrill yapping of Diego. Jennise looked up from her comic book at the sound. "Score another one for the cat. When will that dog ever learn?" Karin shrugged. Lisa sneezed again. Jennise looked longingly at the telephone, waiting for Larry to call with the information about Susan's credit cards. It was their only hope of tracing down the errant writer before Dorian discovered that she had vanished, presumably to evade her Interview. Why had Susan run? Now all of their carefully- laid plans might come to naught... Two hours until sunset. "Mrou!" Another annoyed squall from the cat. Diego whimpered, and let loose with another volley of yaps. "A--choo!!" Lisa was still at it. Two hours until sunset. And Dorian's feckless assistants were neatly trapped in the apartment with Lisa, her cats, and Susan Garrett's dog until then. Who, then, were the hostages? Beating The Bear By Perri Smith Perri struggled through the gate of her apartment house, carring more books than anyone should be allowed to read. She dropped them in a heap at her door, before skirting the swimming pool to check her mail. She opened the little door - and had to move fast to catch the mountain of postcards that poured out. "What the ...?" she asked quietly. "I never get this much snail mail?" She leaned against the wall and leafed through them. "You have been given a gift of a subscription to Frederick's of Hollywood? Cool! You have been given a gift of...Sledge-o- matic? Country Living? Wha-at?" She checked the name - from Ravenette. It took about three seconds to figure things out. "Damn, I *knew* that Ravenette at Berkeley was going to be hacked off! What'd she do, subscribe me to one catalog for every point we beat them by? Well, there's enough of them!" Perri forgot to keep her voice down and got a hard stare from her landlady. She smiled back innocently, before carting the postcards back to her room. A half-an-hour and three phone calls from MCI later, Perri decided she had had enough! She put on her jacket and headed back to campus and the computer lab. talk tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu All right, Sandra, now I'm mad. One of those Ravenette's has apparently subscribed me to every catalog known to man - including those late-night gadget catalogues and a particularly loathsome T-shirt catalog. And American Express is after me - again. "Well, you were the one who wanted in," Sandra typed back. You haven't heard the worst of it. She called MCI and told them I wanted to join "Friends and Family." They won't leave me alone! "What can I do to help?" Nothing, as far as that Berkeley Ravenette, what's-her-name, Lorelei is concerned. I already took care of her. "What'd you do?" I telnetted into her account (and let me tell you, it's a good thing I know computer science students here, breaking in without her password was a pain) and I susbscribed her to every mailing list I could find - I think there were about two hundred. If she's in Toronto with the rest of the Ravenettes, her sysadmin will shut down her account about the time it hits 2Meg over her disk space - should be by tomorrow afternoon. Sooner if the Duchovniks and those crazies on Lois and Clark are up to their usual tricks. "I think that qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment." She started it. This is getting out of control fast. We'd better let Nick know what's going on - and I guess we'd better tell LaCroix. We've got to put a leash on Janette's flunkies before they do something worse than renewing my subscription to Victoria's Secret. "I've already been in contact with the other Knighties. Don't worry, we've got plans of our own beginning." Good. Perri logged off, and sat back in her chair, stretching. It was going to take a month to pay off those computer science guys in beer and pizza, but it was worth it! Makin' a Meal By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC dropped her bag in the entryway of the suite, picking up a small folded note from atop the bar. LJC, We're meeting at the Raven. Dress accordingly. - Angel. She sighed, looking down at her airplane clothes. Black ribbed streach pants, low boots, longsleeved, scooped neck shirt, and green crepe tailored jacket would have to do, it wasn't as if she had brought a cocktail dress, but it was plain and dark and classy enough, she decided, wondering if she should remove he silver pentangle that she had worn so long she had almost forgotten it was there. It wasn't as if it was actually a cricifix or anything, though the meaning was much the same. And one mustn't be rude to one's hosts, LJC decided as she dropped the sparkling chain and talisman into a little cardboard box which then was dropped into her purse. She slipped her trenchcoat back on, and the fedora, and caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the windows that faced the night. The tiny smiley-face button seemed absurd, but the whimsyical little button, and the dark connatations it held thanks to a certain book, amused her enough to leave it pinned to her lapel. Locking the door behind her, she headed down the hall, he mind already on the war ahead of her, and if anyone were following her, she certainly didn't notice. The Raven - No decent hour They were already assembled at a table, chatting amongst themselves. Tara hadn't met the newbies, and introduced herself with a smile and firm handshakes. Alma pressed a drink into her hand with a brittle smile. "Hallo, darling. So nice to see you again." LJC raised the sea breeze in a toast, but the vampire simply smiled, showing her teeth, and faded back into the throng. Guessing, correctly, that the young woman with the purple streak was Angel, LJC sat down, making herself comfortable as Angel filled her in. "You looking forward to it?" Angel smiled, her eyes alight with mischief. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." LJC clinked glasses with her, and took a long sip. A Newbie Flies to Toronto By Karen Knight Karen knew she was late, but the fog in New Orleans had delayed the flight. She checked her bag and felt the reassuring courseness of the package within - a little something she picked up from a friend in the Quarter. You never know when something like *that* may come in handy, especially during a rescue. Karen follwed Angel's directions and walked into the Raven. She loved the decor. Angel introduced her to everyone, including Jeannette. Karen was impressed. There was time to play before her assignment started so she took a drink from Alma and sauntered over to talk with the men in black. Flocking to the Fray By Susan Garrett Janette stifled a yawn and glanced at the front doors to The Raven--the sun had barely set and it would be another hour or so before the club `officially' opened. Of course, there were a few scattered `regulars,' who were allowed in before anyone else, and those few souls to which she'd given sanctuary. Alma passed her, carrying a tray of drinks. Janette nodded her head toward the back room. "Are they all here?" "Most of `em," announced Alma, heading in that direction. She hesitated, gum snapping. "I'm keeping them happy, like you said. Are we going to wait for the others?" "No. I probably should take care of this now, before trade starts." Stifling another yawn, Janette followed Alma out of the main area of the bar and into the back room. It was difficult trafficking with mortals--the hours they kept were positively indecent. She didn't know how Nicola managed to put up with it. They were gathered around the table, conversation drawing to a respectful hush and then silence as she swept into the room, the left side of her dress, which was longer than the right, trailing just on the floor behind her. Janette passed by Angel and touched the streaks of violet in her hair. "Clever," she noted. "I quite like that." Moon, beside her, was wearing long sleeves and a bulky sweater. "This Antarctica," she whispered, leaning in beside the mortal and startling her. "Talk to Alma-- she'll find you something more appropriate." A glance and raised eyebrow at Alma and the blond vampiress quietly finished setting out the drinks, then headed out of the room. She smiled warmly at Betsy and made a mental note to avoid speedboats during this entanglement. Jill, the girl beside Betsy, returned her gaze nervously. On the other side of the table sat Risha, mischief gleaming in her eyes. Lorelei was beside her--Janette made a mental note to have Francis give her some of the research items Angel had mentioned that she might need. Robert, the only man in the group, sat on Lorelei's other side. He looked exhausted from his long flight, but his excitement was unmistakeable. Janette stood at the head of the table and picked up the wine glass Alma had left for her. "Alma says the others should arrive soon, we'll update them when they do. But for now, Angel--how are the negotiations proceeding?" Angel cleared her throat. "Um . . . fine. I've contacted--" "Careful!" warned Janette, holding up her hand. "Remember the last time--I don't believe anyone's infiltrated my club yet, there's no reason why they should this time, but it's best not to take any chances." "Well, then, I've made contact." Angel shrugged. "They're open to suggestions." "As usual." Janette sighed. "Well, my pets, we should have an interesting `war' ahead of us. I can't think where Nicola's mind has gone and as for LaCroix--well, he'll do what he wants, when he wants, and it's better for us to just stay out of his way, yes? But as for their followers . . . you've all been given your assignments. Nothing excessive. Remember," she met Risha's eyes in a steady glare and cleared her throat, "we have an agenda that must be followed if everything's to go as planned, a week from tonight. Be clever, be coy, be cruel . . . only if you , but do as I ask and all will go well for us. I trust of you," her gaze pierced them one by one, "to do your best. You've got a stake in this as well, this time." They were all so very solemn . . . and some--the brighter ones--were a little fearful. Janette lifted her glass to her lips as she watched them, then gestured with it toward the bar outside. "Stay, if you'd like, for a while. But I'll expect you to attend to your `projects' as soon as possible. Everything and everyone be in place within a week or- -" "Or?" asked Jill, when Janette paused and drank from her glass again. "Or we won't ." She shook her head. "That silly Cousin thought she'd bested me, pretending to join my followers, but staying loyal to LaCroix all the while. She thinks she started this war. But we know better, yes? The right word in the right ear is all it takes." Janette gestured toward the door. "So, go. If you need anything, see Alma. Angel will continue to pass along my instructions. Angel? A moment, please?" Janette moved off to the corner and waited for Angel to join her. She gestured over her shoulder. "Keep an eye on them--I can't afford to lose any this time. And with some of them so new . . . they'll try to prove themselves. They may get into trouble." "Speaking of trouble--" Angel glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "What about Susan? Did Nick and LaCroix go after her? Are we going to rescue her? Because if we are, we should--" Janette cleared her throat. "Susan . . . will be taken care of. Right now, you really should be more concerned about what I've asked you to do, shouldn't you?" "But . . . she's a Ravenette. She's one of ." "And she'll do what she's told, when she's told to do it. Just as you will." She patted Angel's shoulder. "Now, after you've sent off that note to my dear Goblin, you may run along and enjoy yourself. The hair is becoming- - you must tell me where you had it done. The boots on the other hand. . . well, it will be dark soon." Janette gestured toward the bar. "Go out there and mingle. Contact the others when they arrive and tell them what needs to be done." Angel hesitated, then nodded. "All right. And when I hear from--?" "You'll let me know." She continued smiling until Angel had left the room, then sat down on a chair and lifted her glass again. Mortals could be tiring. But useful. And as she finished off her first glass of the evening, Janette found herself smiling again, because batch of mortals might prove very useful indeed. At the Raven By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat on her barstool, and looked around her. She had finally finished her errands for the evening, and had a chance to enjoy herself. Tara had arrived earlier, and they had discussed possible plans of action. She thought about the day ahead, trying to remember all of the things to be accomplished. She turned to Jill, who was sitting next to her. "I shouldn't be thinking about the war now. I should be relaxing. It's driving me crazy!" Risha, who was sitting on the other side of her commented, "How can you think about that at a time like this? Just look at all these men." Angel smiled as she surveyed the dance floor. The people back home were so boring compared to this crowd. There were enough guys in here to last her a year! And that's if she hurried! The sheer temptation of it was too much. She decided to run to the restrooms for a makeup check before dancing and mingling. The lighting in the Raven was perfect. Her hair seemed to glow purple under them. And there were just the right number of blacklights. Too many, and her off-white facial makeup tended to look streaky. Her lipstick and eyeliner were a bit smudged. It was a good thing she had come in here. The dark plum red lipstick set off her light features perfectly. And her outfit looked so *black*. Back home, she could never seem to get rid of all the animal fuzzies on her clothes. Her bustier top needed some adjusting. She loved how the velvet skirt looked with her stockings and new boots. She couldn't believe Janette didn't like her boots. They were mid-calf length with silver skull buckles and three inch stiletto heels. She adored them! As she left the restrooms, she felt the driving need to dance. But Janette caught her eye and waved her over. "Angel, this is my darling Jeff." she said, stroking his neck lightly. Jeff grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips lightly. "It's a pleasure..." Janette cleared her throat, and continued in an annoyed tone. "Could you update him on what he's missed and give him an assignment?" Angel sighed, "Of course, that's what I'm here for." *Well, it could be worse, at least he's charming company.* She grabbed Jeff's hand, and led him to a semi-quiet table. "Okay, here's what's happened since I wrote you last..." Twenty minutes later, Francis came to their table, interrupting an enthusiastic conversation on whether Sisters of Mercy could stay together long enough to get out a new album. Angel noticed the vampire's approach. "I've come for the monsieur's auto keys." Jeff started to protest. "It's okay, Jeff, they're going to put it into Janette's garage, where it'll be safe. You can hitch a ride back to the hotel with us girls. Um, Francis, could you have Jeff's things put into the back rooms?" With a nod, Francis grabbed the car keys and walked away. Angel turned back to Jeff, smiling. "Well then, where were we? Oh yes, music." As she babbled, Jeff reflected that she was paler than some of the vampires in the club. "Hey, you're coming by tomorrow night, right?" He looked into her eyes, which were gleaming mischievously. Suddenly, he felt cautious, what was she up to? "Uh, yeah, that was my plan. Why?" He groaned inwardly when he saw her triumphant smile. "Janette says that Tuesday nights are kind of slow. She's letting me DJ for a couple of hours." Her excitement was contagous, and she had Jeff's full attention now. "So you're asking me if I'll help?" She laughed lightly at his question. "Something like that. I don't want to get bored in the DJ booth all by myself. You can help me pick a good gothic mix." Jeff smiled, "It would be a pleasure." Angel's leg brushed his thigh as she stood up. "I'll count on you then. I've got to go dance now. I love this song." She spun around and flew towards the dance floor to join Betsy and Karen. Jeff shook his head as he stood up and walked back to the bar. Now What? By Karen Knight Karen returned to her room and spied her luggage on the bed - she hadn't bothered to unpack before going to The Raven. She reluctantly decided to perform the tedious task. She had learned from Angel that she was to be some sort of bodyguard for Ravenette Risha. Karen needed more info. She began to unpack: Little (teeny tiny) black dress, spike heels, fishnets, "sensible shoe" (never knew when a disguise might come in handy), powerbook, portable printer, sword,sword?! Oops, wrong war. Oh well, it might come in handy. She put away the rest of her things then set up her computer. No new e-mail, surely the others hadn't gone to sleep yet! *** Later... Now she knew! Karen had been having trouble with her e- mail all weekend, pieces missing or not getting to her address, "undeliverable mail" messages. Someone, probably a Cousin, had gotten to the sysop and turned him. The others needed to know immediately! Karen took off down the hall. A Call to Arms By Dotti Rhodes I sat at my usual "away from the kids" spot - in front of the computer. With four kids it isn't easy to find a few minutes to get away to myself, but when I do it usually is the computer I run to. Soooo, another war was starting, eh? The last one I just lurked through, terribly interested but not really sure what to do. I hadn't even been sure what side I would have been on - although madly in love in Nick I had definite Ravenette leanings. Janette remindeds me of myself when I was young and single. But, as I had read through the war postings I found my leanings were definitely more towards Nick. He seemed to be the one in the most need of help anyway, I smiled to myself as I read the screens. "Okay, so I wanna be in this time and I'm definitely a Knightie but what do I do first?" I asked the screen and then my answer came in the next post. Sandra Gray was going to be coordinating the Knightie effort. I remembered contacting her once before regarding a story Sandra had written that I had really enjoyed, and we had agreed many times over the internet about Nick's character when Sandra could come up with the words I couldn't. "Good - now I know what to do first. Contact Sandy. Hmmm - I wonder if I'll get to go to Toronto. I'd love to - I've never been but it could be fun!" I thought of "Uncle" and various cousins - Cousin John for example - I'm not so sure I want to really run into them. "For Nick, anything!!" I decided. "I'm definitely in!!!" Marshalling the Cousins By John Dencoff The Slaughterhouse, Toronto John drew in his breath suddenly, taking hint of the permeating odor of inhuman meat in the air. As he alighted on the roof of the Slaughterhouse, he remembered his last trip to Toronto. When last he'd been in this city, he'd been human. He scanned the area with his expanded senses, searching for traces of the others. He would know them by their descriptions they gave in hastily-sent emails. Cousin Monica he knew well...quite recently she had been converted from the Ravenettes. He didn't think he'd ask her how Janette reacted. Not a good idea. The important thing was that she was now a Cousin. Cousins Caile and Mike were recent additions to the family. Lisa and Margaret were old friends. And Lostsoul...dear Lostsoul! It would be wonderful seeing them all again...he only hoped that they still trusted him, considering his recent crossover. He couldn't sense Laurie, Sandye, or Dennis in the building, though, and that troubled him somewhat. Karin, of course, was absent, but she had accepted a position with Dorian. She and Jenisse could be counted on, even though they were Vampyres now...but the addition of Dorian complicated things a bit. What *was* Dorian's interest in Susan Garrett? The thought of Dorian made him shiver. As a young Vampyre, John had to be very careful. Especially around the Elder Ones. Ron had taught him that...and Lavinia. Yes, he would need to contact Romulus after this meeting with Uncle. He needed to know the deeper issues. And he could trust Romulus. He just hoped that Romulus still trusted *him*. He was working on a possible cure for Nick, after all. He hoped that the Enforcer wouldn't misunderstand. After all...John was starting to appreciate the finer aspects of the Dark Gift. He was starting to *like* being a Vampyre. As he descended the stairs into the Slaughterhouse, LaCroix touched his shoulder from behind. He almost jumped out of his shirt. "Welcome, John." LaCroix smiled evilly. "Geez! Are you trying to give me a coronary?" LaCroix looked at him, shaking his head. "You must give up this temptation of thinking like a human, John. You *are* one of us, now. Come, join the others!" He pulled John inside. "Not all of the Cousins could make it out this time, due to work constraints and all, or their email-servers being down...such as Cousins Christine and Robert Reynolds, my Dark Prince; whom I must contact later...but the majority have come." John introduced himself formally to Caile and Mike, who both looked quite eager for mischief...although there was something of an anger behind Caile's bright eyes. Yes...as he felt her heartbeat, the rhythm of her breathing...she had been attacked. She wanted revenge. Mike's eyes were bright; there had always been a tiny corner of disbelief in vampyres, but it was now replaced with proof. He wanted to convert others to Uncle's cause! LaCroix looked pleased, and as he turned his eyes on his cousins, the silence was palpable. "My children...new and old...I have some news to report. Unfortuantely, your Cousin Laurie was involved in a minor accident earlier this morning. It's to my regret that she won't be able to participate this time." His smile had faded to a cold look of regret. "My gift has not been for healing, so she may not be entering this War." Cousin John and Cousin Monica looked suspiciously at Uncle, then questioningly at each other. With his enhanced sense, John sent to her: She looked a bit more relieved by that, but not much. "Something insidious appears to be going on, and I am not behind it." Uncle continued. "Laurie suddenly with an injury, Sandye with a terrible illness that defies attempts at a cure. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that someone is targeting us. We are the object of scrutiny, and I don't like it. Especially after several of us have been lured away by other factions." "You mean Sharon?" Monica offered. "Sharon?" Mike queried. "Sharon, who was a potential convert at the end of the last War, but was drawn into Natalie's group." LaCroix replied. "She would have made a wonderful addition to our family." "So what would you like us to do?" John asked. "...And let's not forget what happened to me. It was humiliating, a *dumpster* no less! I'm furious!!" Cousin Caile added. LaCroix paused a moment. "I think we should continue with what we have always done best. We should continue our efforts toward bringing others into the fold. Target them all. Knighties, Ravenettes, FoD's... perhaps especially the FoD's. They have a strong desire for feeding, why not tempt them with the rather enjoyable delicasies the Cousins can enjoy? But...never forget that the attempt must be subtle, with the aim of conversion to our side. Be clever, remember the lessons I've taught you." "Tell them about Dorian...and Susan." John interrupted. LaCroix flashed him a dark look, then continued. "Yes. All should know. Dorian has called Susan Garrett to be interviewed. But she has escaped. Cousin Karin and Jenisse are working as Dorian's assistants in this case, but they were not able to prevent her escape." "For reasons that I will not go into, I do not feel that Dorian should question her first. *I* would like that priviledge. She must know something that even the Enforcers do not...and I must have that information *first*." he smiled, his eyes bright with devious plans. "So...continue with your efforts to convert the others. Cousin Caile, seek revenge. Nothing *too* drastic, however. Simply drive the point home that we are not to be toyed with. Or manipulated." John spoke then, "And...what of the animals that you were purported to have brought across? What is to be done with them? Are Cousins Sandye and Dennis still in the fray?" LaCroix chuckled under his breath. "John, I must remember to teach you about interrupting your Elders. But later." he glared. "For now, consider the animals as my spies. We may indeed need to change them back later, but leave them for now. Something unusual is occurring there, and I need to keep a very close watch on what transpires. I believe that Sandye and Dennis may be in some danger...something dangerous even to the community at large. As yet, I do not know what it is, but it doesn't bear the marks of either Nicolas or Janette. I suspect that Janette may know, but that too is uncertain at this point." "Satisfied, John?" he smiled again. "It's not a matter of satisfaction, it's a matter of preservation." John replied matter-of-factly. "Bringing the animals across was very dangerous, Uncle. It's against the Code. It will attract the attention of the Enforcers, and I've grown rather fond of my neck." "Well, of course it will attract their attention! How better to serve two of my purposes? Believe me all, when I tell you that there is something larger at work here, otherwise the Enforcers would not have initiated an interview with Susan Garrett. It is larger, more dangerous than Wars in the past. This time we're all playing for keeps. No rabbits, no spell- checker computer-viruses, this time. Keep your objectives firmly in mind." "As I said before: Caile, seek revenge, but try also to convert her or at least get information out of her. Janette knows more than she is letting on. Mike, attempt to convert one or more of the knighties if possible. I am forming an uneasy alliance with Nicolas, so make your offers tempting. Lisa, see if you can join Dorian's team. Your skills as a librarian would be invaluable, and you can obtain information for me at the same time. Margaret, try to gather as much information as possible about Natalie's faction, the Die-Hards, and the FoD's. If you can, attempt conversions there as well. Monica, see what you can do regarding Tara. Or perhaps, see what possible information you can squeeze out of your sister. But gently. John, apparently Janette is working though a new person in your area: Angel. If *she* could be turned...or even persuaded to join us..." "She sent me a box of chocolates...with centers of garlic buds. I shudder to think what would've happened had I taken a bite." he cringed. "Perhaps you should then work more closely with Monica? Either way, the idea is to convert, but if you can't convert them, try to stall. I shall do my best to keep everyone informed of what I discover. Until then, remember what I've taught you!" In a flash, LaCroix flew straight upward, impossibly fast to see. In seconds, he was gone from the Slaughterhouse, and the Cousins went in separate ways to consider what he'd told them. John shot a toothy grin toward Monica. "We live in the same town... can I give you a lift? Heh!" "I like air conditioning, but not so much that it would permanently rearrange my hair. Thanks, but I'd rather `Fly the Friendly Skies' than the `Fiendly' skies." she replied dryly. John looked hurt, then brightened. "I can at least give you a lift to the airport!" he said cheerfully, and he took hold of her and flew up into the night sky. He regretted it later, as the deep fingernail marks on his neck took a long time to heal. ------- CHAPTER 12 Tuesday, October 25, 1994 Cousin Caile Reveals Her Nature By Caile Donachaidh Kane It's pretty late, and Uncle is out doing whatever it is he does. I have finally, after hours on the computer and the telephone, completed my revenge. I figured out who the person was behind my humiliation of this morning fairly easily: Risha, a Ravenette, who lives upstairs from me. I think she was still steamed over my recent conversion. At any rate, it was plain that she was the perpetrator. Little does she know that in junior high, the computer coordinator taught one of his favourite students the finer points of hacking. I logged into the AUVAX shortly after posting the tale of my capture and eventual safe return to the loving arms of my dear Uncle Lacroix. He told me I should get my revenge swiftly and brutally, and a similar message arrived from Cousin John not too long ago. But I have everything under control. First, I sent a message to an associate who in turn arranged for a kilo of base cocaine to be planted in her room. Unfortunately for her, there's a room check coming up this week, and she'll be here. In Toronto. Then, I logged out of the AUVAX, and proceeded on to her credit card company, her phone card company, and her bank account where I wreaked some general havoc. Then, I called my brother - one of several - and he and some friends went and carted away every last belonging in her dorm room. And gave it to the Buffalo GoodWill. That was the nice stuff. I then switched her return ticket from "Toronto to Buffalo" to "Toronto to Baghdad" and billed it to Janette. Then, I ordered over ten thousand dollars worth of mail order merchandise (such things as plaster busts of Elvis and Buffalo Bills beanbag chairs, laserdisc copies of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and various other gifts), had it sent out to sundry Ravenettes around the country, and billed the lot to...yes. Janette. In my final jab, (and I must admit that most of this has been pretty petty) I arranged for two friends, Ray and Vinnie, to break both her legs and shave her head. Services paid for by.... You guessed it! Janette. I think we're even now. Or maybe not. There is still so much fun to be had. I have not yet begun to fight. Do Unto Others Before They Do It To You By Caile Donachaidh Kane As entered in the diary of Cousin Caile 25 October 1994, wee hours Toronto, Ontario, Canada It's late, and I can't sleep. Uncle is out, as usual. Word of my vengeance has reached the cousinly community, and Cousin John just sent me a glowing message of approval. Uncle liked it as well. But here I am, in this great big house, all alone, and things are getting spooky... I'm starting to think about furthering my vengeance. I keep getting the feeling that I should strike again, before I am struck back at. I know they will, and I know this war is far from over. Uncle says our mission this time `round is to convert and gain knowledge - *not* to harm with intent. Still, my brief time with Uncle has molded me well, and I observed him from afar for over a year before coming to his side. I believe in *his* version of the Golden Rule, which is: "Do unto others before they do it to you." Ahh, Uncle. They call me vicious, Uncle, they call me scary. What am I but what they wish they could be? Free. We Cousins have no rules, we have no ruler - except our dear Lacroix, our Uncle, and once you learn to harmonise with his ways, you are not really ruled............... (the pen falls to the floor) Uncle's firm grip on my shoulder caused me to drop my pen. "Good morning, Caile," came his voice in my ear. "Good morning, Uncle," I replied, turning my head to see him. He was in head to toe black, as usual. I smiled. He smiled back. "Do you have any idea how long I've been reading over your shoulder?" I grinned at him. "Long enough, I imagine." He came around the chair and stood in front of me. "Yes, long enough. Long enough to realise how loyal, and how valuable you are. You would make a splendid vampire." "But you won't, will you?" I said with understanding. "No. I won't. You know I'm breaking the rules by having you here, by teaching you what I have in the past several hours. The Enforcers would... Ah, I shudder to think. You would be promptly destroyed. Now, the issue at hand is finding Susan Garrett. We must get to her before Dorian. And we must get inside the Enforcers to find out out just what is going on. It's someone high up, it's not Dorian's decision. He may have thought it was, but it is far out of his hands now. I have to contact John again, and Margaret. And YOU have something to ask me, don't you?" I sat and stared at Lacroix for a long moment. "Yes, Uncle," I finally replied. "And this is?" Of course he already knew. "Uncle - give me one last lesson in revenge." He sat down in the chair across from me, and began to chuckle. "Of course." From the Frying Pan (Part 2 of 3) By Risha Jorgensen Angel was surprised to see that Risha was still up. The suites currently occupied by the Ravenettes in Toronto came equiped with comfortable beds, and they had all been up all night after that meeting with Janette. Then Angel noticed that Risha seemed to be upset. "What's wrong?!" Risha noticed her for the first time. "@#^%&(!!" she exclaimed. "I knew that what I did to Cousin Caile was excessive, but I wasn't prepared for revenge like this!" "Calm down, and tell me what happened." "Calm down! #%%^*(%%..." [The following language was unprintable.] Finally, she calmed down enough to tell Angel what had happened. "I just got a call from my roommate. Last night, someone broke into my dorm room and took all of my stuff! Luckily, a friend of mine spotted a shirt that she recognized as mine at the Buffalo Salvation Army, and managed to buy almost everything back.Then when I tried to send her some money to pay her back, I was informed that my bank account was overdrawn, and the same with my credit card! Fortunately, I have two bank accounts, so I was able to pay her back, but now I'm broke. I had that same friend grab those few items left behind in my room, and put in all in storage under her name, so it'll be safe for now on. But when she was getting my stuff, she found a bunch of cocaine in my room. She's getting rid of it for me before this week's room check. My roommate's complaining because Barney videos and Elvis busts have been being delivered to my room since 6:00 am today. "I swear, I'm about to scream! $#$*^$%#(*^...." Angel tried to soothe her. "Okay, that WAS pretty bad. You tried to warn us about how Cousin Caile was, and we didn't listen. BUT..." she made sure that Risha was listening. "Now we know to be on our guard. From now on don't leave the room for ANYTHING without at least two of us with you. Good thing we have pretty hefty defences on these rooms. Anybody getting past the human guards will have the laser defenses to deal with. Good thing Janette thought to get the name of that company the Die-Hards used in the last war. Is there anything else out there that you need protected?" "Um... my family?" "They're an unlikely target, but we'll make some arrangements anyway." "I think that's everything." "Good," said Angel. "Oh, and don't worry about the money. I think that our expense accounts will probably cover repairing your bank account and credit, but lets wait until AFTER the war, to make sure that this doesn't happen again. Oh, and we'll fix up something to protect your family's finances, too." Risha was beaming. "Thank you, Angel. I don't know what I would have done without your help. And also, any ideas of what to do to Caile in return?" "I would have thought that you had learned your lesson by now." "Not a chance." Shopping By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel screeched the rental car to a halt. Risha and Karen, her terrified passengers, had had enough of her driving for one day. "Why are we stopping?" queried Risha, "We don't have room for any more stuff." She was right. The trunk and two-thirds of the back seat were packed with supplies from their errand for Janette. "We have to stop here. Leslie told me about this shop. need to indulge myself after picking up all of these supplies. I mean, it's fun, but I don't have stockings for tonight. Come on, you guys'll love this place." They walked into a small shop. Risha wasn't sure she liked the looks of the employees. They seemed a bit creepy. Karen's eyes became large twin orbs as she noticed what type of merchandise this store specialized in. * Hmmm. If Angel buys extravagant things with Janette's money, maybe I should go shopping too.* Twenty minutes later Angel set her merchandise on the counter, ready to pay. "Look at these spider web stockings, Risha. Aren't they splendid?" Risha gave her a sideways glance. The cashier rang up the purchase. Three hundred eighty-seven dollars in corset, bustiers and stockings. Angel couldn't have been happier as she handed over Janette's credit card. "I'm sorry, but this card isn't working. Are you over the limit?" The three girls gave each other confused stares when the credit card was rejected. How could it be? Angel sighed, and pulled one of her own credit cards out of her purse. She didn't really care. She couldn't buy this stuff in Albuquerque. The shops were way too conservative. *** Fifteen minutes later, the girls were at the Raven. They sat in the middle of the dancefloor, their purchases spread out all about them. They were giggling as they came up with different uses for some of the more unusual items. They had just finished a spray confetti fight, and were hardly in a serious mood. Just then another trio walked through the door. Moon, Jill, and Rob had returned from their shopping trip as well. "How'd it go?", asked Karen, who looked cute after the spray confetti fight. "Um, we had some problems. We got about half of the stuff, and then the clerk said Janette's card was over the limit." The girls looked at each other again in bewilderment. "The same thing happened to us" said Angel, pulling herself out of the mess by one of the hanging chains. "I think we need to check this out. When it happened to us, I figured it was none of our business, but this feels weird." Risha spoke up. "Didn't someone mess with Lacroix's credit in the last war?" *** They were lucky Angel was so familiar credit card crises. Half an hour and many phone calls later, the problem was solved. They discovered that someone had used Janette's credit cards to buy all sorts of twisted gifts for various Ravenettes. All of the purchases had been cancelled, and luckily most of them never even got sent out. Janette would not be amused when she heard about the tampering that had taken place. No one wanted to wake her so early to inform her. The Ravens and Ravenettes went back to the rest of their errands for the day. There were still purcheses to be made. Schemes to be hatched. Revenge to be had. Negotiations to pursue. It was going to be a full day for Janette's followers. Joining the Fray By Jeff Carey On the SLU campus (in upstate NY) Jeff looked wearily at the computer on his desk, after being literally buried under homework all weekend to the point where even checking his mail had been impossible he had no real wish to see the exact damage that had been done to his account by all of his lists. Finally coming to a decision he flipped the switches and watched as the computer flew to life. Waiting till the various drive lights stopped flashing he then proceeded to access his college's internal network and from there his private account on the mainframe. Bracing himself, he moved from the base screen into the mail directory and was unsurprised at the over 500 messages in the incoming box. Whispering a prayer of thanks for its infinite `incoming' space he quickly paged through it all, deleting the obvious space wasters and skimming the posts with the more interesting titles he was fascinated with all this `war' stuff. Then, just as he was getting his account back in some semblance of order the phone rang. Cursing the intrusion he barely noticed that he had been at the computer for several hours. Grabbing the phone his attitude immediately changed as he recognized the voice on the other end as belonging to Janette. "Greetings young one, I have a job for you" Shocked at the honor Jeff could only reply "Yes Mistress, whatever you wish" and was quickly filled in on the events that had occurred between Risha and Caile. "Can you do anything about it?" it wasn't a question but a challenge! "Of course m'lady, I'll get right on it!" Jeff grinned predatorily at the phone. "Then be quick about it and then join me at the Raven when you are finished, and pick up the Coke from Risha's roommate, it may prove useful!" "What about the border patrol?" Jeff asked cautiously. "I'll handle them, don't worry" then the line clicked off. Jeff typed several long and complicated codes into his computer and was rewarded by an unusually `framed' screen... A:Jeff? What the hell are you doing contacting me! J:Aristotle, Janette needs something done. A:Then why didn't she contact me herself? J:She's busy, besides, it's just negating a little Cousinly tampering with the net. A:What area? J:Check the accounts for Risha and doubleback the tamperings on the cousin who did the tampering. A:Wait a sec, ahh, it was Caile, I'll recharge everything to her accounts, anything else? J:Do a sweep of Janette's `front' accounts and do the same thing. A:Ok, but I'll expect a big favor in the future from her for this! J:Hey, I'm just the middle-man, you want payment you deal with her! Jeff disconnected satisfied that Caile's financial life had just been reduced to dust. He looked again at his computer and wished that he could continue using it but it wasn't portable and his university's mainframe was incapable of being telnetted into in any case (it just didn't have the necessary hardware). Getting up he packed, changed into a black silk shirt and black suitpants and headed out for his car. Dumping his suitcase into the trunk of the night black jaguar and settling into the black velvet driver's seat. He breathed in the exquisitely rich smell of the black swede leather of the interior paneling and his own coat, then breathed a sigh of relief and sped off into the night... *** Picking up the Coke proved no problem as Risha had already told her roommate to be waiting for him and he was able to then make for the border where, true to Janette's promise, the guards didn't even notice his passing through. Jeff then made directly for the Raven and the sanctuary offered by its midnight Mistress. Parking in one of the spots reserved for Janette's special guests he quickly slipped on his satin cape to complete his `gothic clubbing' outfit and toyed with the medallion hanging from his neck. *It's not as if the symbols would mean anything to anyone else* he thought but then recalled the last time he had been near a vamp while wearing it. Grinning deviously he remembered how the vampire had been repulsed by its mere presence while around Jeff's neck, but ofcourse this was only because the young goth believed in his talisman, and it was such a nice assurance that vamps couldn't sneak up on him. Slipping it beneath his shirt he then proceeded to arm the car's alarm and enter the club. Inside he made directly for the back room where he knew that Janette would be waiting. The shear directness of his path and the way that the vampires in the club shied from him immediately attracted the attention of his fellow Raven/ ettes who followed him into the room where he tossed the bag of Coke on the table before Janette and asked "Now what do we do?" Janette regarded him with annoyance as she *sensed* the medallion and asked "Why must you wear that infernal thing here?" Jeff smiled "Because I'm not quite ready to be turned yet m'lady, why else?" Janette burst into a fit of genuine laughter at this remark, startling everyone except for Jeff who, after a moment of trying to contain his own humor, joined her in expressing their common amusement. A few moments later Janette regained her composure and remarked "You have done well in your task. I have just heard from my contact in Caile's bank that her financial situation makes the US national debt look like child's play! You called in one of my favors with Aristotle I assume?" when Jeff nodded she continued "Good, Angel will fill you in on everything that has happened so far" Thus dismissing everyone Janette turned back to her scheming and the Raven/ ettes went back to the main bar. Mrs. Peel, We're Needed By Sharon Himmanen Of course the phone had been ringing as she walked into her apartment. And of course it had been Natalie asking her to come to Toronto that afternoon. "Come right to my office," Natalie said. "Hey! Will I get to see an autopsy?" "Mmmm, maybe. If you're good," Natalie promised. "But make sure you meet up with Linda and Elizabeth at the airport." She gave Sharon the flight information as well as the best way to get downtown to the Coroner's Building. Luckily she had a slew of frequent flyer miles from the last war. After a few calls, she was on her way to the airport, after making sure that there was a ticket to Toronto for Selma if she wanted it. The trip was pretty uneventful and Sharon used the time to catch up on lost sleep and to think about the Raven and Janette. She was well into her third war and she had so far had only minimal contact with Janette. Tomorrow night should be interesting, she thought, although she had snorted loudly when Natalie told her about Janette's request for proper apparel. Toronto airport was pretty much like any other airport, and Sharon located the gate she needed with no trouble. Holding up her sign with Linda's name on it, she waited patiently until a medium height blond woman approached her with a broad smile and a firm handshake. She immediately wanted to know what was going on, and Sharon filled her in as best she could, while they walked to the other side of the airport to pick up Elizabeth. Elizabeth's plane was late, but she finally arrived, and Sharon again found herself telling as much of the story as she knew, although her knowledge of exactly what was supposed to happen tomorrow night at the Raven was sketchy at best. Deciding that a cab ride was quicker and ultimately cheaper than any of the shuttles, they chatted among themselves as they rode toward downtown Toronto and the Coroner's Building, which they arrived at just after dark. Natalie had told her that she'd be working late and that Grace was expecting them, so they'd get in to see her with no trouble. It was definitely going to be an interesting couple of days., Sharon thought as they climbed the steps of the Coroner's building. Lisa Cat-ches On By Lisa McDavid !@#$%^&*()_!@#$%^&*() Lisa McDavid yelled, crashing down the phone. "I'll kill her! No, that's too good. I'll wait until the Newfoundland cable feed goes to Bangor instead of Detroit in January. Bwa-ah-hah- hah!" "What's the matter?" asked Karin, appearing in the doorway. "Finally sneezed your brain loose?" "Mary Farrell's the matter. I thought there was something funny about the taste of that Ceclor. John Dencoff just confirmed it. Instead of anti-biotic for that infection I had, I've taken a week of something that not only negates my anti-histamine, it *boosts* my histamine production!" "Hey, with talent like that, she's wasted on the Ravenettes," Jennise observed, following Karin into the room. "Don't think I haven't told her that," said Lisa bitterly, her voice somewhat muffled in the depths of a kleenex. "Never mind, wait til January." Karin grinned. "Oh, yes. Bangor doesn't *get* Forever Knight." "Precisely, and I'm Mary's source for tapes. Just wait until she gets a mixture of Barney and infomercials and Rush Limbaugh ...." Lisa choked on an attempt to laugh sinisterly and was pounded on the back by both vampires with more enthusiasm than sound first aid technique. "Better yet -- wait til she gets parts of Forever Knight interspersed at random with things like that, especially at the end and any time Nick looks like he might be going to kiss Nat!" Karin shuddered. "No wonder Uncle doesn't trust you." "And you called *us* fiends just because we gave the cats a little vacation," added Jennise. "That's only for starters," Lisa said. "Never mind. Larry's had a word with the local Revco's computer. The real anti-histamine's on its way over here right now." She smiled with real amusement. "Larry was most anxious to help, you know. All I had to do was promise not to give Jenny Schanke a list of his addresses and phone numbers for help with her computer class." The doorbell rang. "I think I'd better get that. We wouldn't want any -- achoo! -- accidents." "We don't?" purred Jennise, with a roseate gleam in her eyes. "No, you don't." Lisa strode toward the door. "Until I get back on my medication, Dorian won't need vampire hearing to locate us. Besides, you don't really want Java cooped up much longer. He's about due for one of his diarrhea attacks." She stopped with her hand on the door knob and looked over her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm in for the duration now. Mary's much too nice to have thought this up on her own. Janette's much too afraid of LaCroix." Lisa's smile came as close as as mortal can to vamping out. "This has Miklos's mindprint all over it. I'm going to help this little comedy play out any way I can, and then I'm going to make him wish he'd been staked the night he was turned." Suprises By Jill Bradley As the afternoon wore on, Jill began to think of new ways to tormet the other side. She and Robert were in a small, dark, out of the way shop browsing through the selection of rubber insects when out of the blue, an idea came bursting in. "Robert, let's send that Knightie Sandra Gray something to chew on!" An evil light began to shine in Jill's eyes. "Remember how she says she is a cousin, but has those interesting dreams about LaCroix!" She began to talk rapidly to Robert, who began to look interested. "I don't know," he hesitated. "My girlfriend may not appreciate this." Jill pooh-poohed his fears. "She's your *girlfriend*. Surely she will forgive you--if she ever finds out!" Robert began nodding his head in agreement. Quickly they left the store, heading for the Victoria's Secret up the street. *** Later, in Jill's room, she and Moon waited for Robert to come out of the bathroom. The bathroom door slowly opened and his head appeared around the corner. "I'm not sure--" he began. Jill and Moon each grabbed an arm and pulled him out into the room. As Moon ran to get the camera, Jill smirked. "This will be PERFECT." She began to prod Robert to bend and pose provocatively. "Once we get these done, it'll be a snap to combine the pictures." *** Knightie Sandra Gray was home wondering what would happen next. The Knighties were not as powerful as some of the others and she--her thoughts broke off as the doorbell rang. Peeking through the hole, she saw a UPS truck outside and a delivery man standing at her door. She opened the door suspiciously, but the man in brown simply stood there with a package and a clipboard held out to her. "Ms. Sandra Gray?" he asked. She nodded and once again he proffered the board to her. "Sign here, please." Sandra slowly closed the door and locked it again. She wasn't expecting any thing in the mail and with the wars going on, she was leery of surprises. The package looked innocent enough, and as she shook it, she couldn't hear anything rattling. Taking a pair of scissors, she cut the string and the brown paper. A small gold cardboard box lay revealed. Hesitantly she removed the top. A notecard lay on top of the tissue, pure black with "L" emblazoned on it in white. She opened the card and paled as she read the note. "My dear Sandra, I want you as you want me...dreams can be reality. I will come to you this night. LaCroix" Sandra sank down on the floor, her heart beating wildly. Could it be--did he feel her need for him? She slowly opened the tissue paper to reveal a stunning peignoir--black, of course. But there was something else under the lace-- something small and square. She gasped in disbelief--no it couldn't be. There was a picture of Uncle, posing provocatively -- in the black nightie. All's Fair By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC opened up her War folder, so as to catch up on everything popsted while she was on the plane. She was very greatful Blue Max was more portable than his predecessor, Bollux, had been, given how small the tables at the Raven were. She frowned as she read what Caile had planned for Risha. This was particilarly brutal, but her wheels were already startinng to spin with ideas... Tara smiled, sipping her drink, and slipped out from behind the small table to wander over to the bar. Miklos watched her, half amused, half wary. "Can I help you?" "As a matter of fact, you can. I need a favour." "What kind of favour?" His accent as not unpleasent, and Tara smiled, despite the implications. "The kind that really requires only the minimum of fuss, and results in you and Alma netting some tasty snacks. Do you like Italian?" "As much as the next one." He continued to polish glasses, but paused long enough to meet her eyes and smile wickedly. "There are two robust young men of the names Ray and Vinnie who have been hired to do some unspeakably nasty things to our Risha. I want them taken care of, not permanently, mind you. They would be missed. But I'd rather see them a few quarts low, wandering out of here once the war is over, than joining your kind, or ending up in Nat's office." "And what do we get out of this, besides free food?" "My eternal gratitude?" "Not quite good enough, my dear." "We'll discuss prices later, after the job is done. Where will you keep them?" "I'll leave that to Alma, she always did like to play with her food." He said it in such a way that Tara knew he too liked to play, if it came to that. But she had more important things on her mind. "I'll ante up, in mine own way, you know that. But the job must be done quickly, and now, before Caile has a chance to counterstrike. There is no point in blocking one torment if she can come up with something else just as nasty just as fast. I need her blocked, for the moment." "Ordering about my staff, my dear?" Janette purred from behind her, and Tara resisted the reflex to jump. "I'm one of the veterans here, it's my job to look after the young soldiers, now isn't it? Surely you know what that's like, mmy dear." "And whom do you plan to torment, only the tormentors? Or will you wait for one of them to strike at you first?" "I'm sure they're queuing up for shots at me, I have no doubts about that," she laughed. "I can take care of myself, you know that." "You're still mortal, my dear." "And painfully aware of that, per usual." "Do you think you can stand up to any who might come before you? Even Lacroix?" "Such concern for my welfare, I'm touched." "In the head perhaps... No, you are not. But you are devious enough, I've often wandered if you have the makings of a cousin beneath your feathers." "What, and give up my well worn spot on the fence between the two? Don't be absurd, I would never limit my options that way, neither would you." "It must be tiresome, always being right." Janette glided away, back into the crowd, and LJC stared after her, wondering what the hell had just happened. She noticed the relief bartender had stepped in, and she smiled. Flight must come in quite handy, she decided, as she checked her watch. He had been gone barely quarter of an hour, but she had very high hopes. Returning to her screen to check on the progress of her fellows and enemies alike, she became lost until another sea breeze floated in the air before her eyes. She looked up to find it was in fact attached to Miklos, who pressed it into her hand with a smile. "It's done?" "Alma has the young men in question in the back room. By the time she's done with them, they'll be lucky to know what year it is, let alone who their quary may have been." "You're a good man, Miklos." "And a better vampire?" "Well, we'll see. Cheers. To war." She toasted him, and returned to her laptop, smiling.a Now that that was taken care of, she could concentrait on more pressing concerns. Susan Gets aNew Dress By Sally Norton "YEEEOWWWW!!!!!!!" A mass of howling dark fur hurled itself into Susan's chest. She fell back against the wall. "Susan," Lisa rushed over to Susan's crumpled form. "Are you OK?" "Urggh" Lisa picked up the bundle of fur and cradled it in her arms. She stroked the cat's back and spoke in a purring voice. "It's OK, Java. I'm here. Susan won't hurt you. It's OK." Susan unfolded herself and stood up. "What is that cat doing in my apartment?" She glared at Lisa. Lisa looked at Jennise, then at Karin, then at the floor. "What are YOU doing here?" Susan continued. She turned to Karin. "And YOU?" She turned to Jennise. "And YOU?" "YEEEOOWWWW" The cat howled again. "SHUT UP!" Susan howled at the cat. "Don't yell at Java." Lisa stepped back. "We didn't ASK to come here." Lisa started to whine. "This isn't my fault." "OK." Susan turned to Jennise and Karin and spoke very slowly. "What - is - going - on ?" Jennise sighed. "YEEOUUWWWW" Susan's face was a dangerous shade of purple. Jennise quickly intervenned. "Lisa, why don't you and Java go into the small bedroom. We'll explain things to Susan." "I thought I was part of this." "Lisa, please. Let us explain to Susan." "YEEEOUWWW!" "LISA. GET THAT CAT OUT OF HERE!" Susan was exasperated. She was also dirty, tired, hungry, and now, confused. This was her home. She wanted a bath. She wanted food. She wanted a cup of tea. She wanted clean clothes. She wanted quiet. She did not want a howling cat, a skulking Lisa, and Jennise launching into a long, convoluted explanation. Nor did she want Karin who sat serene and silent, sipping something red from one of Susan's wine glasses. The amused expression on Karin's perfect face annoyed Susan. This whole situation was too much. "Jennise, do NOT explain anything. I don't want to know. I just want you all to go away. NOW." Jennise looked at Susan. Susan glared back. Jennise looked over at Karin, silently asking for help. Karin spoke quietly. "Jennise, Susan needs a bath and something to eat. We can talk after she is refreshed. You go up a start a bath. I'll bring you a glass of amaretto." "Oh. Well. That's all right, then." Susan was slightly mollified. She walked toward her bedroom. "Karin, I still don't like this. Whatever THIS is." Karin swallowed slowly, savoring the liquid as it slid down her throat. She smiled up at Susan. "It's all right. We'll tell you everything. Go along now and have a long soak." "Hrumph." Susan walked off. "I might as well. You always do get everyone to do what you want, don't you." "Yes," Karin answered softly. "I do." The room was much quieter. Karin gazed into her glass. Jennise considered the floor. Moments passed. Neither vampire spoke. Java and Lisa were quiet in the small bedroom at the far end of the apartment. The only sound was the water running in the bathroom. "I think," Karin began, "one of us should take that glass of amaretto to Susan." "She's going to need it," Jennise interrupted. "She's also going to need something to eat. I'll make her an omelette." Karin stood and walked into the small kitchen. "Let's see what's in here." She began taking things out of the refrigerator. "Eggs, butter, chives. Ah, shrimp. Perfect." Karin poured a beautiful amber liquid into a delicate glass. She handed it to Jennise. "Take this to her. Tell her I'm preparing an omelette." An hour later Susan was in a much better mood. She had soaked and washed. She was dressed in fresh sweatpants and her favorite baggy sweater. She stabbed the last bite of the omelette with her fork. "You are still a wonderful cook." She thanked Karin. "Oh, I like to practice now and then." Karin smiled. Susan swallowed the last bite of the omelette. "I suppose," she said ruefully, "there is a perfectly good explanation for turning my apartment into a menagerie." She gazed at the cat asleep on Lisa's lap and her own dog, Diego, asleep on the floor under her chair. Lisa was also asleep. Karin and Jennise were awake and alert, as always. "Lisa is here under our care," explained Jennise. "Oh?" Susan encourage Jennise to continue. "We felt she might be helpful." Karin added. "I'll bet," said Susan. The explanation didn't take long. Karin was not prone to long-winded explanations. Susan looked at Jennise. "This was all your idea, wasn't it?" Jennise was startled. "Well, yes, it was. How did you know?" Susan grinned. "I recognize your touch. No one thinks like you." She chuckled. She leaned back in her chair, stretched and laughed again. "Now, what?" she looked from Jennise to Karin. "I'm afraid we're going to have another visitor." Karin looked at the clock. "Soon." "Who?" Susan was wary. "Sally." "Oh, no." Susan groaned and closed her eyes. Karin soothed, "She has your dress ready. We want to see how it looks." Karin looked at Jennise. The look they exchanged was knowing. Susan opened her eyes and looked from one to the other. "I do want to know the whole story." Susan was firm. "Ofcourse." Jennise spoke quickly. "I mean it." Karin interceded. "We agree. We won't send you to Dorian unprepared." Susan looked at the table, not seeing the dirty dishes. "I still don't know if this is a good idea. Lucinda was, well, a symbol, in a way. This could open some very unpleasant memories." Jennise eyed Susan warily. "Just how much DO you know?" Susan sighed and looked up. "Not much, really." The doorbell rang. "Ah, there's Sally." Karin spoke brightly and went to open the door. "Oh, goody," sighed Susan, "just what I want --- a corset bearer after dinner!" Jennise laughed. Sally and Susan approached the table, each carrying a heavy suitcase. "What's so funny?" asked Karin. "Do you EVER wear anything decent?" Sally demanded of Susan. "Hi Sally." Susan chirped. "How I've missed you, dear." Susan was herded back into the bedroom and told, once again, to undress. Thirty minutes later her hair was swept up and held in place by beautiful combs. She was wearing a dark blue walking suit. She gazed at herself in the mirror; she was fascinated with what she saw. "OK, what do you think?" Sally smoothed the shoulders of the jacket. Susan turned and examined her right profile. She turned again and considered her left profile. She tilted her head. One dark curl slipped out from underneath the pert little black velvet hat. The hat perched at a roguish angle among Susan't dark hair. Susan took one more step; the fabric in the train curved into a arc of rich folds. Susan looked over her shoulder and smiled at the reflection. "There's no doubt about it," she thought, "a silk bustle makes me feel elegant." Susan was grinning. "Well?" Sally asked again. Susan blushed. "I like it," she mumbled. "Oh, goody. I've been sewing myself BLIND and the best you can do is MUMBLE?" Susan took a deep breath. "Sally, I really like it . . . a lot. It's just a bit of a surprise." Susan looked at her reflection again. She started smiling, again. "I never thought I would look like this. So, uh-m-m-m." Her voice trailed off. She touched her throat and ran her hand across the neckline. Her fingers skimmed over the soft surface of the silk. "Beautiful," she whispered. "SPEAK UP!" Sally ordered. "You look gorgeous but, the effect is totally ruined as soon as you open your mouth. E- NUN-CI-ATE." Susan blinked. She turned to face Sally. "Now, what?" "Walk." "What? What?" "Yes. Walk" "Walk?" "Yes." Sally clinched her teeth. "Walk." Susan took a cautious step. Then another. Looked back at Sally. Took one more step forward. Hesitated. Took a step backward. Stepped on the dress. Lost her balance. Tried to right herself. Failed. Grabbed at the nearest object. Which happened to be Sally. Held on. Wobbled. And pulled them both down onto the floor. "Uh-h-h-h er-r-r-r ooomph. Your elbow in my stomach." "You're lucky. If you're torn this dress, I'm going to . . ." The effectiveness of Sally's threat was reduced due to the fact that she was speaking into the floor. A mouthful of carpet does not aid one when making threats. Sally pushed herself up. Jennise and Karin and Lisa and the cat and the dog all rushed into the bedroom. The cat, Java, was delighted to find a pile of shiny fabric to play with. The dog, Diego, was delighted to find this new game in progress. Sally screamed and grabbed for the cat. She missed. Lisa pounced. Java slid out of Lisa's grasp. Lisa lost her balance and landed on top of Susan. "MY HAT!!" Sally wailed. "YEOW!" howled Susan. "Oh, shut up." snapped Jennise. Karin grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and hauled the dog out of the room. Jennise finally made a successful grab for the cat. "Lisa, get up," ordered Jennise. "Be careful," Sally yelled. Lisa glared at Sally. She rolled off of Susan and away from the dress. She sighed and stood. "Come here," she reached for the cat and started smoothing the raised fur. Lisa looked down at Sally and Susan on the floor. "You look like a ravished heroine on the cover of a trashy novel." She spoke to Susan. Susan's hair hair had tumbled down; the small black hat was tipped over one eye and her jacket was askwew. She looked dishelleved and rakish. Jennise grinned. "Lisa's right." Sally was bent over Susan straightening the fabric. She took hold of Susan's arms. "Here, hold onto me. It will be easier to get up. Step carefully. There." Susan was standing. Sally hovered, checking the clothing. "It is beautiful," Lisa spoke softly. "Yes," Jennise agreed, "it is." "And it's a perfect match," said Karen from the doorway. "Is is all right?" Susan asked Sally. "Yes, I think so." Sally answered. "Did you make a ballgown?" Jennise asked. "Yes," answered Sally. Her head was near the floor checking the hem of the skirt. "She gets a ballgown, too!" Lisa was shocked. "Why should she get such great clothes?!?!" "Because," Karin spoke softly. "She's going to need them." Karin and Jennise exchanged looks. Susan looked from one to the other. Lisa seemed to be mesmerized by the suit. "I don't suppose . . ." she began, speaking to Sally. "Sally's time is fully booked." Jennise got Lisa off. "It's not fair." Lisa sulked. "No. It isn't," agreed Jennise. "That's enough." Karin interupted. "Sally, do you need anything else?" Sally shook her head. "Fine. Why don't you help Susan get changed and put everything on hangers in the closet. Jennise will take you to the airport when you're finished." Sally nodded. "Come on." Karin pushed Lisa and Jennise out of the bedroom. "Which ballgown did she make?" Jennise asked when they were seated in the living room. "The green one." "Ah. Of course. One of Worth's best, I think." "Worth?" Lisa asked, curious. "A dress designer a long time ago." Karin explained. "Sally made a copy of one of his ballgowns. It's pale mint green and decorated with white lace." "Sounds gorgeous," said Lisa. "It is," agreed Karin. "Where's Diego?" Susan asked as she and Sally walked into the room. "Locked in the kitchen," answered Karin. "Ready to go?" Jennise asked Sally. "Yes." Sally turned to Susan. "Remember to walk slowly. You're not used to this much fabric in your skirts. Take small steps. Do not walk backwards." Sally grinned. "You've seen what happens." Susan grinned back. "Thanks," she said. "Why don't you come with us?" Jennise invited Lisa. "We can stop at the Godiva shop on the way back." "Godiva Chocolates?" Lisa breathed the words in a whisper. Jennise smiled. "Of course. Didn't Susan tell you there's a shop near here?" They left. Susan freed Diego and soothed his hurt feelings. She looked over at Karin. "I think," she began, "it's story time." "Yes," agreed Karin, "it is." Lucinda's Story By Sally Norton Susan leaned back against the cushions. Karin sat in the large overstuffed chair. She was staring into space; her face a calm mask. "Karin," Susan began, "tell me about Lucinda." Karin didn't answer. She picked up the wineglass and sipped the dark liquid. She looked at Susan and seemed to be considering. "She's decided just how much to tell me," Susan thought. Karin bent down to the leather bag on the floor and removed a small satin box. She handed the box to Susan. Susan studied the box, looked at Karin, and then lifted the lid. A pair delicate silver earrings lay inside. They were heart-shaped and decorated with intricate floral designs. A round garnet was set in the center of each heart. "They're lovely." Susan looked at Karin, questioning. "They'll be perfect with the green dress. We expect Dorian will want you to stay for some hours. He's always a gentleman. He'll invite you to dinner." "I thought The Interview would only take a couple of hours," Susan protested. "This is the first time he's interviewed a mortal. It may take a while. You'll wear the blue suit when you arrive. We'll have the green dress delivered during the day." Susan picked up one of the earrings and held it in front of her. "These are Victorian, aren't they?" "They're a Victorian design. Garnets were very popular." "They must be valuable." Karin was exasperated. "Really, Susan, I CAN afford to give a friend a small gift. It's not the Hope Diamond! I just thought they would be pretty with the dress. Leave them at home if you don't like them." "I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . They ARE lovely, Karin. Thank you. Of course, I'll wear them with the dress. And you're right. They will be perfect. Although, I can't imagine how I'll be able to eat anything." Karin smiled. "You don't want to feel sick or faint. Of course you'll be uncomfortable . . . and probably tired. Just try to eat a little bit to settle your stomach." Susan put the silver earring back in its box. "Now," she said. "Lucinda." Karin began Lucinda's story. May 1883, Venice Lucinda Eversleigh was twenty years old when she first visited Italy. She was making an Italian Tour with her mother and her widowed aunt. The Eversleighs were from Philadelphia where they were, if not on the top of the social ladder, certainly firmly attached to one of the middle rungs. Mrs. Eversleigh, Miss Eversleigh, and Mrs. Waltham had been in Venice for a week. They were staying at the Villa Delfino, an exclusive and discreet pensione owned by Signora Pergolesi. Villa Delfino was renown for the beauty of its rooms and the charm of its owner. Signora Pergolesi was of very good family with entre into all of Venice society. Circumstances had forced her to support herself as an innkeeper but, she was certainly the most sophisticated and subtle innkeeper in all of Italy. Many people applied to stay at the Villa Pergolesi. Few were accepted. Those who did stay, paid dearly for the honour. The signora always invited at least one of her many friends to share the evening meal with her guests. At Signora Pergolesi's table, her American guests glimpsed the manners and mores of Italian society. Dorian and the signora were old friends. Many years ago Dorian had rescued a foolish young signorina from a reckless escapade. They had become friends and remained friends. Signora Pergolesi had aged; Dorian had not. She saw him irregularly. He traveled. She did not know his background or the source of his wealth. She knew he was not like other men but, life had taught the signora discretion. She valued Dorian's friendship and allowed him to protect his privacy. Dorian was invited to the Villa to dine. The signora sat him next to the pretty young American. "They will amuse one another," thought the Signora. "She will be flattered by the attention. He will be charmed by her freshness." The morning after this dinner, Lucinda sat on the loggia outside her bedroom. The pearlescent light sparkled on the water; the red-tiled roofs stretched in all directions. The air was warm and humid. Lucinda smiled. She felt light and joyous. She felt she had never been alive until this moment. Last night she met Dorian. Only last night. She thought she had known him forever and now they had finally come together. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to run in all directions and felt that only in his embrace would she find what she looked for. Lucinda leaned back and closed her eyes. "Dorian," she said the name to herself over and over. He was her center. She remembered his voice, his laughter, the thrill she felt when he touched her hand. "There you are, my dear." Mrs. Eversleigh walked through the bedroom, breaking Lucinda's reverie. "Your aunt has suggested we visit the gardens near San Marco today. Would you like that? They are quite famous. Signora Pergolesi suggested an outdoor cafe where we might take lunch. It sounds quite pleasant." Mrs. Eversleigh looked closely at Lucinda. "Are you feeling all right, my dear? Your colour is high." Lucinda swallowed, stood, and walked into the room. "I'm fine," she answered. "It's a beautiful morning." She turned to her mother. "I would like to visit the gardens." Mrs. Eversleigh smiled. "Finish your hair. I just want to speak to your aunt." Lucinda sat in front of the mirror. "I'll see him," she thought. "He'll be in the gardens. I know he will." The three American ladies strolled slowly along the gravel path. The deep shade of the old trees was cool and comfortable. Mrs. Eversleigh and Mrs. Waltham chatted companionably, admiring the views, the walkway, enjoying everything. Lucinda's attention was on every path. She was looking for Dorian. She was distracted and gave perfunctory answers when asked for her opinion on a view or a tree. Mrs. Waltham considered Lucinda. "I think Lucinda needs some lunch. She would not eat at breakfast. She must be hungry." She smiled. "I think I would like one of those delicious cakes we had yesterday." The cafe was lively. The scene on the street was colourful. Lucinda strained to see in every direction, peering into the face of each man who passed. The two old women exchanged looks. "What is it, my dear?" Lucinda's mother inquired. She was a gentle woman, kind- hearted and understanding, but Lucinda could not answer. The meal was served. Lucinda moved tiny slivers around on her plate. Her mother and aunt kept up the pretense of a normal conversation. After they finished her aunt said, "I am rather tired today. Would either of you mind if we returned to the Villa? I think I would like a nap." Lucinda could not suppress a sigh. Her aunt smiled at her. Lucinda wanted to run back to the Villa. She thought, "He'll be there. He's waiting for me. I know he'll be there." She forced herself to take one step at a time. The slow pace set by her mother was agony. Signora Pergolesi met them as they entered the ground floor. She smiled. "Did you enjoy the garden?" "Yes, very much." Mrs. Eversleigh answered. "Signorina." The signora approached Lucinda. "This was delivered while you were out." She held out a stiff cream envelope. Lucinda's hand shook as she took the envelope. She could not meet the signora's eyes. "Thank you," she said in a tiny voice. She started toward the stairs. "Lucinda." Her mother's voice stopped her. She turned and faced her mother, her aunt, and the signora. She kept her eyes lowered. She could feel them staring at her and at the envelope. Slowly, Lucinda opened the evelope. Her hands were moist. Her throat constricted. She felt hot and dizzy. The envelope contained a single stiff card. The handwriting was florid. She smiled. "Of course," she thought. "He writes beautifully. "What is it, my dear? Who has written to you?" asked her mother. Lucinda felt light. A delicious sense of joyousness surged through her. She looked up. Her eyes were sparkling. Her face was glowing. "It's an invitation," she almost sang the words, "from Dorian." "What?" Mrs. Eversleigh was startled. Mrs. Waltham laid a hand on her sister's arm. Mrs. Eversleigh was silent. "What is the invitation?" Mrs. Waltham asked. Lucinda was smiling. "A musical performance, tonight. At the home of . . . " Lucinda looked down at the card and then up again. "Count Tommasini," she finished. Signora Pergolesi nodded. "A charming man. Most cultured." She turned to the sisters. "You will have a lovely evening. His home is filled with beautiful things and he only invites the most interesting guests." Mrs. Eversleigh and Mrs. Waltham exchanged looks. Lucinda's mother was clearly distressed. Her aunt's expression was more knowing and a little sad. "Lucinda," her mother began. "You cannot accept an invitation from a gentleman we hardly know. We only met him last night. We know nothing about him . . . " she faltered. "I know him." Lucinda spoke softly. She wasn't defiant or angry. She looked straight at her mother. She smiled. "I know him," she repeated. "Mother, I am going." She smiled again. Her face was alight. It was as if she was glowing from the inside. "I have to change," she said to the older ladies. She turned and mounted the stairs. The room was quieter and darker. Lucinda seemed to have taken the light with her. Mrs. Eversleigh sank into a chair. She looked up at her sister. "I ... I ..." she began. Her face was distressed and confused. "I don't understand. What has happened?" She looked from her sister to the signora. "She doesn't know him." Mrs. Eversleigh insisted. Mrs. Waltham sat down next to her sister. "I think," she spoke slowly. "Lucinda has fallen in love." "That's impossible!" The signora shrugged. "Yes," she said. "It is. But impossible things do happen." Signora Pergolesi left the room. Moments later she returned. A servant followed carrying a tray. Mrs. Waltham took two glasses from the tray and handed one to her sister. "Drink a little." Mrs. Eversleigh took a slip. "Lucinda," she said in a dazed voice and again, "Lucinda." Mrs. Waltham turned to the signora. "What do you know of this man?" The signora sipped her wine. "We have been friends for many years. He is a very loyal friend, has charming manners, is quite wealthy. He has a home on the Grand Canal. He's been a guest in my home many times. I've never known him to harm anyone. He's cultured, intelligent, well educated." "He's not Italian?" asked Mrs. Waltham. "No." Mrs. Waltham looked steadily at the signora. She turned to her sister. "I think," she spoke in a calm voice, "that we will accept the invitation. We will all attend the musical evening." Mrs. Eversleigh started. "Wha . . ." "My dear," Mrs. Waltham cut her off. "Lucinda is captivated by this man. She is feeling things she never felt before." Mrs. Waltham put her glass down and took hold of her sister's hands. "We must help Lucinda or we will loose her. We will talk with him. We will become acquainted. And we will protect Lucinda from doing anything foolish." "You are very wise." The signora spoke. She looked at Mrs. Eversleigh. "Dorian is not evil. He will not attempt to seduce the signorina. He may not even be aware of her feelings. He probably only thought her a charming young woman and kindly extended an invitation. He has shown me many kindnesses over the years and has never asked for any kind of payment." "There. You see." Mrs. Waltham attempted to reassure her sister. Mrs. Eversleigh was still stunned. "It's so unlike Lucinda. We've never had any of the problems with her that so many parents have. She's not rebellious or thoughtless." "No," agreed Mrs. Waltham, "but she thinks she has fallen in love. For the first time. And that can be both joyous and painful." Mrs. Waltham squeezed her sisters hand. She smiled. "You do remember." Mrs. Eversleigh returned the smile. "Yes, I'm sure you are right." The ladies stood. "Thank you." Mrs. Waltham spoke to the signora. The sisters left the room. The signora watched their retreating backs as they climbed the stairs. "Ah, Dorian," Signora Pergolesi thought, "what have you done?" Later that evening Dorian stood talking with the signora. Their conversation was cordial but, impersonal. Signora Pergolesi watched him and thought to herself, "He is thinking of the signorina. He is watching for her. I am almost invisible." She smiled and put her hand on his arm. "Be careful," she spoke gently. He looked at her but, he was distracted as Lucinda came down the stairs. She walked straight up to him. He took her hands. They smiled at each other, turned, and walked out of the Villa. The signora stood looking after them. "Lucinda never saw me," she thought. "She doesn't see anyone except him." The signora heard soft voices behind her. The two sisters were coming down the stairs. They were dressed for the evening. Mrs. Waltham smiled. "Lucinda's not in her room. We thought she must be down here." She looked to the left and the right. She continued ruefully, "I am sure she's looking forward to the evening." Signora Pergolesi waited until they reached the bottom of the stairs. She gestured to the adjoining room. The ladies followed her. "Lucinda," began Mrs. Eversleigh as she walked into the room. She stopped. Lucinda was not in the room. She looked at the signora. No one spoke. "Where is she?" Mrs. Waltham finally asked. "She left with Dorian." "Oh, no." Mrs. Eversleigh sank into the sofa. Mrs. Waltham stared at the signora. "I couldn't have stopped her." The signora spread her hands. "She didn't even see me. They only saw each other." "Where have they gone?" Mrs. Eversleigh stood and asked the signora. "I assume to the concert at the Count's home." "Please take us there." The signora looked from one to the other. "Very well," she said. Dorian and Lucinda walked slowly. The air was soft. The night was perfect. The lights on the gondolas reflected on the water. Boats filled with people passed by. They stopped and watched the passing scene. Dorian touched her hair. She touched his cheek. They stared at one another; the rest of world receded. "We might," Dorian smiled, "attend the concert." Lucinda laughed. "I have everything I want tonight." They strolled along the canal, stopping to watch, to talk, to look at one another. Lucinda was filled with happiness. She walked lightly; she laughed easily; she was delighted with everything around her. Just before dawn they approached Dorian's home. Lucinda was laughing as she stepped out of the boat. She looked over Dorian's shoulder and her smile stopped. Her mother, her aunt, and the signora were standing in front of Dorian's house watching her. No one spoke. Dorian took Lucinda's hand. They stood together facing the three older women. "Lucinda," her mother began. Then stopped. "It's very late," her aunt spoke gently. "I think we sure go back to the villa. We have been worried about you." "Oh," said Lucinda. She looked at Dorian and looked back at the women. "I did not notice the time. I am sorry you were worried. There was no need." Mrs. Eversleigh stepped forward, reaching out. "Lucinda." Lucinda started. "Mother, wait." Lucinda and Dorian looked at one another. Their gaze excluded the rest of the world. They smiled. Lucinda looked back at her mother. Her smile was radiant. "I am home. I am staying with Dorian." *** Dorian and Lucinda were together for two years. Eventually the scene with her mother and her aunt receded and was less painful to remember. Lucinda had stayed with Dorian that first night. Her mother did not understand. She was appalled and frightened. Lucinda's behavior was so far out of the norm that it mystified Mrs. Eversleigh. Her aunt seemed to understand. Lucinda never regretted her decision. She and Dorian were everything to one another. Lucinda was quite intuitive. Dorian told her many things about his life. Lucinda guessed at things he did not tell her. Over the next months, Dorian revealed more of himself. At the end of one year, Lucinda knew everything. Dorian held nothing back from her. She loved him and he loved her. They made a life together. Slowly, Lucinda took on the responsibilities of Dorian's mortal assistant. They traveled as Dorian's work required. They were happy. There were difficulties but, they managed to find workable solutions. Their relationship was intensely private. They did not associate with the vampire community. They had slight social acquaintances among mortals. Their life was in each other. Lucinda wrote to her family, especially her aunt. She felt a kinship with her aunt. Two years after they met, they returned to Venice. They were both delighted to be back. It was to be a holiday. Dorian had no appointments. Dorian had heard of a talented jeweler in Venice. He visited the shop and discussed a pair of earrings he wanted to have made for Lucinda. "They will be most attractive," the jeweler assured him. Dorian agreed. They would be much like Lucinda: delicate, sparkling, with more intricacy visible the longer one looked at them. "I am," he thought, "content." The earrings were finished a week later. Dorian and Lucinda had lately been in England and France. Lucinda had ordered new gowns from M. Worth. She was delighted with their extravagance. She planned to wear the green one that night. She and Dorian were to attend the opera. Lucinda was in her dressing room finishing her toilette. Dorian spoke from the doorway. "You look wonderful. That colour suits you to perfection." Lucinda returned his smile. "It is beautiful." She looked back at her reflection. "I think it is my favorite." She followed Dorian onto the landing. He was adjusting his tie, looking at himself in the large mirror that hung at the top of the stairs. "You do look handsome." She kissed his cheek. He smiled. "I think that dress needs something," he said. She grinned. "When did you become an expect on ladies dresses?" she teased. "Oh, I've had years of experience," he answered with mock solemnity. Lucinda laughed. "Years anyway." Dorian pretended to grimace. He reached into his pocket and removed a small box. He presented it to Lucinda. She held her breath as she opened the box; she let out a tiny sigh when she saw the earrings. "They are lovely." "Yes," he agreed looking at her face. "Put them on." "You do have perfect taste," she laughed, admiring herself in the large mirror. She whirled around, dancing. The light from the chandelier shimmered on her skirt and made the garnets shoot tiny sparks of deep red fire. Dorian was dazzled. She stopped in front of him and dropped into a graceful cursty. She tilted her head and smiled up at him from behind her lace fan. She laughed and stood, twirling around but, her foot caught in the long train and she lost her balance. She reached out, gasped, and fell. The back of her head hit the edge of a stair. Her neck broke. She was still. She lay halfway down the staircase. The beautiful pale green silk made graceful folds around her body. Dorian screamed in pain. He few to Lucinda but, he wasn't quick enough. Her fall was too sudden, too unexpected. He was relaxed and happy. He wasn't alert. He wasn't ready for danger. He knelt next to her and cried. The servants found him holding her, calling her name. *** Karin stopped talking. She and Susan sat in silence for a few minutes. Karin refilled her glass. Susan got up and left the room. She returned a few minutes later carrying a mug of tea. She curled up on the sofa. "What happened after that?" she asked. Karin took a deep breath. "Dorian went crazy. The servants contacted Signora Pergolesi who wrote to Lucinda's family. Her aunt took a boat from New York and traveled to Venice. She collected Lucinda's body and took it back to America. Lucinda was buried in the family plot. Signora Pergolesi dealt with the authorities. It all took several months. Travel was much slower back then." Karin leaned back and closed her eyes. "It's tragic," Susan spoke softly. "Yes." "Karin, I don't want to do this. It was a long time ago. You said they stayed out of the community. Probably no one knew her or just thought she was another in a long line of mortal assistants. Why bring this up? It's too painful." She paused. "Although," she started to speak slowly, "it is a wonderful story." Karin sat up. "NO!" She glared at Susan. "DON'T EVEN THINK OF IT! YOU CANNOT WRITE THIS STORY!" "Why not?" asked Susan. "I can't be in more trouble than I'm in now." She stopped. "And," she continued, "it is a great story." She eyed her laptop computer. "NO!" Susan looked at Karin. "What else is there? You haven't told me everything, have you?" Karin didn't answer. "Well?" Susan persisted. "LaCroix knew about Lucinda and Dorian." Karin said. She stopped. "Oh." "He kept watch on them." "Why?" Karin sighed. "Why does Uncle do anything? YOU go ask him!" "Uh, no thanks." Karin began again. "He didn't interfere. Dorian never knew LaCroix was watching. Uncle saw Dorian pick up the earrings and followed him home. He got into the house." "Is there anywhere he can't get into?" Susan interrupted. Karin shrugged. "Probably not. Anyway, he was in Dorian's house and he saw the accident." "WHAT?" Karin nodded. "He stayed in the shadows but, he saw the whole thing. Later, when Dorian was raging in grief and the servants had gone to get help, he stole the earrings." "WHAT?" Susan squeaked. Karin nodded again and looked at the small satin box on the table. Susan followed her gazed. Susan started shaking her head. "Oh no!" she cried. "NO!" she wailed. Susan gulped and started to hiccup. She put her head down in her hands. "OH NO-O-O-O-O-O!" Her voice trailed off. Karin waited until Susan's hysteria subsided. She spoke soothingly. "Susan. This is going to be very useful. Dorian will be unnerved." "UNNERVED!" Susan choked. "You DO have a talent for understatment! He'll be bloody bonkers!" Karin smiled. "And you, my dear friend," Karin spoke slowly, "will - be - in - control." Karin looked at Susan. Susan swallowed. "Well, yes," she acknowledged. "If he doesn't kill me," she added. "Oh, he won't do that," Karin assured her. "How can you be so sure?" Susan demanded. "Because," Karin smiled smugly, "Uncle thinks of everything." In Which Interview Arrangements Are Made By Karin Welss " I'm really worried!" Susan said. "Maybe I should have let Laurie and Sharon kidnap me after all... saving me from Dorian just to throw me to LaCroix isn't really an improvement, is it?" Karin took another sip of the blood in her goblet, and licked her lips. "C'mon, Susan, you're my friend. I you for all the help you've given me. Why do you think Jennise and I volunteered for this mission? And Uncle doesn't have anything against you-- as far as he's concerned, you've given him lots of good PR over the past year. It's really in his interest to keep you in... circulation, so to speak." Karin laughed at her own pun, and reached over for Susan's laptop. "Right..." Susan commented skeptically, nervously twisting a long lock of glossy brown hair around her finger. "But I've given Dorian good PR, too, and look where it's gotten me." "Well, an Interview doesn't necessarily mean you're doomed. As long as you haven't broken the Code, and you don't try to lie to Dorian..." Karin pointed out, as she deftly unplugged the cord from the phone and slipped it into the laptop's modem jack. The machine chittered and beeped as it booted up, and after a few seconds, Karin wrinkled her nose. "Eeewww-- Windows. I'm more of a Mac person, myself." She began to type commands, continuing in a sort of abstracted voice-- "Nick, Janette, and LaCroix all survived Interviews, right?" Susan shuddered as she remembered what had been done to LaCroix, slopping some of the tea onto the front of her comfy terrycloth bathrobe. "Barely." Karin looked at her email. She had a new message from Dorian. He'd changed his email address, she noticed. *** From: The Archivist To: jennise@dgi.com, kwelss@us.oracle.com Subject: Susan Garrett's Interview Ladies, Thank you for providing me the background materials for Susan Garrett's Interview. I will review them in detail this weekend. Good job. I intend to Interview Ms. Garrett on Monday, October 31st. Please arrange for private quarters-- Ms. Garrett's apartment will not be suitable as its location is far too well known. Regards, Dorian, the Archivist *** Karin looked up. "Your Interview is set for Monday," she said quietly. The teacup rattled against the saucer as Susan put it down on the coffee table. "This Monday? ?" Karin nodded. "Kind of appropriate, don't you think? And I'm supposed to arrange the location..." She tapped the laptop's screen contemplatively, her hazel eyes showing a glint of gold. Susan sat forward. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Karin nodded, and began to type a reply to her boss. "Uh- huh. `The Slaughtered Lamb.' It'll be perfect..." "And Nick, Janette, and... LaCroix will all be nearby." Susan finished, a ray of hope lighting her eyes. Karin gave her friend a conspiratorial smile that showed the barest hint of fang, and finished typing. *** From: The Archivist's Assistant To: Dorian Subject: re: Susan. M. Garrett Interview CC: jennise@dgi.com Dear Dorian, I will make arrangements to hold the Interview at `The Slaughtered Lamb' in New York City. I've been advised by reliable sources that this tavern has private rooms, and that the staff is very, very discreet, if you know what I mean. Directions to follow. I assume that you wish to begin the Interview at dawn on Monday? Sincerely, Karin kwelss@us.oracle.com Jennise and Karin Turn In By Jennise Hall INT. LIVING ROOM - SUSAN'S APARTMENT Karin exits the mail program and hands the laptop back to Susan. KARIN There. All set. Susan opens the earring box, runs her fingers over the earrings. SUSAN You're sure I can handle Dorian? KARIN You know more about him than most. Susan jumps ten feet at the sudden BANGING on the apartment door. KARIN It's just Jennise. SUSAN (over her shoulder) You could have warned me. She opens the door. Lisa steps past Susan into the apartment. Jennise remains outside the door. JENNISE Karin, we gotta go. We don't have much time. LISA (to Susan) Hope you don't mind a roommate for the evening. Karin gathers her things with vampiric speed. SUSAN Why don't you stay here the day. I can handle the windows. JENNISE Sweetie, there's a war on. You don't give anyone that kind of secret. You all set? KARIN I just got her calm. Then you pop in making enough noise to wake the dead. JENNISE Sorry. But we're late. Can't you feel it? KARIN I'm ready. Karin heads out the door. Jennise turns back to Susan. JENNISE Don't worry. We've made sure you have enough of the cards to protect yourself. You'll be fine. SUSAN Thanks. She closes the door. SUSAN I think. INT. JENNISE'S CAR - NIGHT - A FEW MINUTES LATER The car speeds toward a warehouse district. JENNISE (loudly) You told her pops was there when lucinda died? KARIN It calmed her down. She has no idea Uncle is behind this.. JENNISE You better hope Pops agrees. Jennise presses a garage door buzzer and drives into one of the warehouses. KARIN He's got no reason to be upset. Everything is going exactly as he planned. JENNISE And Susan is going to be stuck smack dab in the middle. Serves her right. She's a danger to all of us. Should be fun watching her worm her way out of this. LACROIX (V.O.) You ladies are cutting it pretty close. They look toward the second level. Seconds later he lands in front of him. JENNISE Had to take Sally to the airport. There was an accident. But everything with Susan is following the script perfectly. LACROIX Perfectly? Does that include the part Karin's convinced I won't be upset about? Karin nervously galnces to her blood sister for a little support, but finds only air. KARIN It's nothing really... Daughter of the Wind By Valerie Meachum Valerie had been jumpy all day, anxious to escape the shackles of the laser printer as it spit out 93 bazillion letters asking for money that all had be be signed, stuffed, and mailed by Thursday afternoon. Sometime she really had to do something about that habit of making herself indispensible at work...except that every time she tried to teach someone else how to deal with the Jurassic monstrosity they called a database, they wanted no part of it. It was her baby, and today she *really* hadn't wanted it. No matter. She was home now, and free to act on Natalie's request for her presence, along with that of the other NatPackers, at some sort of powwow at the Raven tomorrow night. She'd never quite made it to the Raven last war--probably a good thing, she'd managed to get Janette quite annoyed enough at her in Nick's loft, criticizing her callous indifference to her "followers". Valerie swore to herself there wouldn't be a repeat of that, although from what she'd heard Janette was up to the same old game, suddenly conveniently forgetting Susan's existence the second she had drawn Dorian's attention. Dorian. She couldn't help a little shudder at the thought. She was dreadfully worried for Susan, but there was also a suspicion that the Empress of FKFIC wouldn't be the only hapless writer to fall headlong into this enigmatic "loophole" in the Code. Valerie herself hadn't been very active lately, but recent revelations about Janette's history had echoed to closely her own speculations on the subject nearly two years before. Eep. ANother icky thought...something else for Janette to hold against her. Maybe she wouldn't be the best person to have at this meeting after all... "Focus, kiddo, it's gotta be done." Critically Valerie examined the haphazard pile of stuff next to her dumped- out dance bag, clutching at the silver-and-lapis-lazuli pentagram around her neck for the umptieth time, jsut for a little dash of stability. Clean underwear, anti- perspirant, toothbrush--wouldn't do much good to be "properly dressed" by Janette's standard if her personal hygiene fell by the wayside. Black velvet leggings, pirate shirt, conch belt, more silver gypsy jewelry than she usually wore in a week these days. Moderate heels, enough to accentuate her height without making her walk like Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors. All her makeup was at the theatre, since she had no use for it in everyday life; Janette would just have to put up with a naked face in her precious club. As an afterthought, and not really certain why, she tossed in her Art Nouveau Tar, a small pouch of various pet crystals. Glancing at thehe bookshelf, she eyed Llyr, her atheme, and decided to slip it into the small purse she had substitued for her usual Dreaded Bottomless Bag.The weight of the small pewter dagger was comforting, though she fervently hoped the blade would stay right where it was. "Guess that's it," she sighed, topping off the dance bag with the mobile physical therapy unit that normally lived in it: a couple Ace bandages, a chemical cold pack, adhesive tape and Band-Aids galore, neosporin, Ben-Gay. That, too, she hoped would be an unnecessary precaution. With another sigh she pulled out her car keys, mentally steeling herself for the 8-hour drive to Toronto "You won't need those." "Who the hell...?!" A heartbeat ago she had been alone; Jack and their British houseguest Karen were off exploring the various bookstores of Columbus, taking a break from Karen's steady devoural of the FK tapes downstairs. Now there was a strange man standing in her cluttered bedroom. Llyr was out of her purse in a flash, but the man made no move either toward or away from her. "You won't need that either. I'm no threat to you." "Yeah?" Valerie kept t blade at ready, meeting hte intruder's gaze far more steading than she expected. "So how about an explanation?" He gave her one, and by the time he was finished she still wasn't certain whether to put the dagger away or clutch it tighter. Dragutin! She'd heard the name only once, in the cryptic post John had sent in the aftermath of the last war by way of apology for trying to make a meal of her in Nick's apartment. This guy was a crony of that Enforcer, not just a vampire but a wizard to boot. And he was trying to tell her *her* power was needed, that she could go to the NatPack/Raven summit because it was important but that she too figured into the tangle of fate involving Susan, Dorian, and the Enforcers. "Like hell I do!" she snapped in response to that one. "There's nothing `fate' about it. What there *is* is a friend of mine in danger because your paranoid Code can't deal with her knowing things she has *no* intention of using against you!" "It isn't *my* Code," Dragutin objected. "You know what I mean! Susan and her stories are no threat to the vampire community, and I'll bet Dorian knows it! He's just covering for some agenda of his own!" The mage looked at her sharply. "What made you say that?" Valerie opened her mouth to answer, closed it, opened it again, and admitted, "I have no idea." "Just like you had no idea why you wrote that Janette had been a prostitute." "That was a nightmare I had to get out of my head! And for gosh sakes, *don't* mention it to her--I'm hoping she hasn't noticed that story." "But you may be certain Dorian has," Dragutin pointed out. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing." "Don't you throw that at me! That's my phrase! That's for Creepy Crowley Clone from my old dorm and the rest of the nuts who think they can use magic for whatever they want. I'm a simple witch. I don't push what I don't understand when I don't belong." Dragutin shook his head. "Sometimes it pushes at you, child. A witch, yes, but you have never been simple. This knowledge comes to you without your asking, and it pulls you into the midst of this game. You have to recognize your power and learn where you *do* belong if there is any hope for Susan and for the rest of you who pluck our lives out of thin air and put them on paper." "That's what Dorian wants, isn't it!" "I don't know." She didn't know whether to believe him, but there was no hint of a lie about him, and far more often than not she *knew*. It wasn't that unusual, lots of people did that, including Natalie... "Oh, cripes, Nat's going to *flip* about this one! Just what she needs." "Circumstances will force her to recognize her power soon enough," Dragutin predicted. "For now, it's your turn." Valerie thought it over; it only took a second, really. It was a risk to trust this person, but the prospect of rescuing Susan was worth it. First, though, she had to answer the summons--the Susan issue would be a part of this meeting, she was sure, but there were other issues she knew nothing about as yet, and she knew with leaden certainty that they were equally important. She had only time to wonder what Jack and Karen would think when they returned to find her gone as expected but Angelique the Wonder Metro still parked outside, and to fervently hope Janette had never read "Silent All These Years". Then her bedroom vanished abruptly, replaced by Grenville Street outside the Coroner's Building. After a stunned second, she asked, "Can I learn that?" "First thing, if I have anything to say about it. We will discuss that soon." "That was just you? No Trump, no nothing?" "You speak of the gate card you had of the Raven that destroyed itself? No, such things are only obstacles." "Oh." Valerie wondered briefly what her Amber-gamemaster fiance would think of his masterpiece being called an "obstacle"; but since it had gone kaput for no discernible raeson several weeks ago she suppoed Dragutin had a point. "Well, let's see if we can get in to talk to her." Amy Joins In (Helps Out) By Amy Denton I hung up the phone with bang and looked at her cat, Snowflake, (the FoS's). "That little demon." I muttered at the cat. "How could he even suggest such a thing for either Sydney or Tara." Glancing at the clock on the mircowave, I saw it was 7:30 p.m. (Houston time) I thought. "First thing, though," I said, speaking to her cat again,"is to find the number for Toronto information. Geez, my phone bill is going to be obscene." Picking up the phone again, I dialed the number for information and then dialed the number for long-distance information. Since this was an out-of-country call, I had to do a little tap-dancing to get the number for Toronto information but finally I did. While I was waiting for Toronto information to come on, several things ran through my mind. My talk with Cousin Mike had been quite informative and he had told me a lot of his plans and ergo the Cousin's plans untill he remembered what faction I was in. Then he had shut up and refused to say anything else, but he had said enough. I had a good idea of what he was planning for 2 Ravenettes and Sydney. Finally, Toronto information came on and I asked for the number for The Raven. After receiving the number, I asked for the operator to connect me simply because I had no idea of how to place an out-of-country call. The phone rang and rang and rang and finally after the 6th ring, someone picked up, someone male, with a European accent. "Hello?" "Is this The Raven?" I asked, unsure as to whether I had actually reached my goal. "Yes. We aren't open yet. Call back in a couple of hours." I paused,< well no time like the present> "Is a Tara O'Shea or an Angel Mercedes there?" "No." "Do you know if they will be there?" "No." I paused again. "Any more questions?" -Click-!!! Like a lightbulb turning, I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. Miklos!!! "Hello?" "Yeah, I'm still here. Listen, I need a message given to both Tara O'Shea and Angel Mercedes. Would you do that?" "Depends on what the message is." "All you need to tell them is that Cousin Mike is planning something devious for them. Something involving ducks,I think, for Tara and something worse for Angel. Just tell them to be carefull." "Who is this?" "A concerned friend." "Why should I tell them this?" I felt like putting my head down on the table and banging my head. "Because I went through a lot of trouble to make this call and I would really appreciate if you would tell them. Will you or do I have to call back later and talk to them myself. I know they'll be there sooner or later. I'll just keep trying. It would be easier if you relayed the message." Silence on the other end, then the sound of muffled voices. "All right. I see that they get the message." "You've got it written down?" "Yes. Any other messages you want relayed?" "No, that's all. Thanks. Bye." "Good-bye." Click. The line disconected and as I sent the phone back in the cradle. I wondered More Cats and Airports By Windy L. Treese "Julian, I'm home. Is Betsy back yet? She hasn't been home for two days now. I have to go to Toronto to." Mrmph. "You're right. I'll take and charge the ticket to Janette. After all you are Betsy's cat, even though you are a knightie. Well, I'l call Nick and let him know he has to pick me up at the airport." The phone rang about 6 times before the machine clicked on. "This is Nick Knight, I'm either in bed or incommunicado. Leave a message at the hasta la bye-bye." "Nick I know you're either undead or incommunicando but you better get you're caddy-driving self to the toronto airport at 9pm tonite or I'll call Don andMyra for a ride. Love to hear your explanation for that. See you then." After quick packing and charging some tickets to a certain female vampire I was off to BWI. From The Frying Pan (Part 3 of 3) By Risha Jorgensen "Sigh." Risha sat in the Raven Club, board to tears. Nothing seemed to be happening today. Sure, they had all gone shopping today (and Risha had picked up the _tastiest_ little black dress along with all the party supplies), but she had been stuck in the Raven for HOURS. She couldn't even go out to explore Toronto, since the possibility of Caile taking more revenge still remained. That stopped her. "Wait a second. I still need to get Caile. Her response to my... little trick went WAY over the top. I'm under orders not to do anything to nasty, but..." Risha picked up the phone. "She'll _hate_ this!" A little over three hours later Caile got a call from _her_ room- mate Amberlee. "They did WHAT?!? That b**** Risha must be responsible. Now I'm _really_ mad." Meanwhile, back at the dorm, Amberlee stared helplessly at pink: pink curtains, pink rugs, pink sheets and pink blankets (with lots of pink lace), and lots of pink posters covered with little furry bunnys on pink fields of clover. Shaking her head in disbelief, she started on the long task of hauling all of their real stuff out of the closet (where it had all been neatly stacked) and getting rid of the horrible pink stuff that the room was drowning in instead. On Rudeness By Karen Knight Karen went back to her hotel room. She had a lot of things to do for Jeanette, but there was one thing she had to take of first. Karen had walked into Jeannette's office. "Excuse me, Jeannette. I'm Karen Knight. No, no. I'm a Ravenette. I just read my e-mail and there was a rather rude comment from a hopelessly immature person regarding simple mistakes made some of us new to the list." Jeannette raised her brow "Yes? And what do you want of me?" "Only your permission to arrange for someone to teach the child some manners." "But of course, you have my permission. Use my phone." With the Devil dancing in her eyes, Karen picked up the phone and dialed. "Some people must learn the hard way," she thought. Mission Accomplished By Karen Knight Karen saw the red message light on her phone blinking. It was Andre. She had taken care of the rude poster effectively. Andre could be such fun! Karen began to unpack her shopping bags. She hoped Jeanette would be pleased. Earlier, she had sent off the package of 70's disco music, complete with clothes (bell bottoms, large gold chains, etc.) Poor Cousin John - she almost felt sorry for him. *** Cousin John opened the package with some trepidation, though the card stated it was from Cousin Lisa. He saw the 45s he saw the...NO! Bell bottoms! Polyester! His vampire fashion senses reeled. He felt heimself getting weak, weaker....And he was down. Dawn Gets A `Hauntin By L. Dawn Steele Dawn was watching "Father Figure" on TV. A station out of London, Ontario was still showing the first season episodes and she was using the opportunity to get all the episodes. Canadian length of course. The apartment was still a mess. Astrophysic books were littered across the floor and the kitchen was a cluttered with dishes. *I should have looked at my new assignment tonight. I'm going to regret taking a couple hours off tomorrow...* *Hell! All work and no play makes Dawn a very dull graduate student...* Out of Dawn's sight, an article on Raman shifting had started to flutter and move across the floor, as if in a strong breeze. *Off goes the pause button... I wonder if I should check my email. There another war going on. Dawn, Dawn, Dawn! Get ahold of yourself! You have time to get involved in a war.* In the kitchen a small plate started to wobble. *Still... I could check if other Die-Hards needed any help. There was that strange suicide in Toronto. Ruth was a Die-Hard, wasn't she? With a war going on, you can't really trust the police's conclusions.* As if the recent thought had given it impetus, the "wind" stopped bothering the china and moved over to the entertainment center. The piles of video tapes started to tilt, and then dozens of tapes spilled onto the carpet. "Hey! What's going on here?" Before Dawn's disbelieving eyes, a white shape started to materialize in her living room. It gradually assumed a shape about 5 feet in height and seemed to be wearing a trailing white gown. Suddenly Dawn had images of wedding cakes. <<>> "Ummm. I can handle this. If I can handle vampires existing, I can handle a ghost in my living room." <<>> "Are you trying to say something?" Dawn felt hesitant about approaching, but the ghost didn't disappear. It felt cold and her hand passed through what appeared to be a shoulder. <<>> "Listen. I ummm can't figure out what you're saying. Could you enunciate a bit better?" The figure drifted over to the computer in the corner of the living room. It's hand pointed to the on button. "Ahh. You want me to turn on the computer? Are you sure you won't short it out? I don't think the warrenty covers ghosts..." <<>> The ghostly figure seemed to have more energy when it got a bit worked up. Books started to levitate and fly across the room. Dawn heard movement in the kitchen, and then a succession of crashes. "Okay look! I'll turn it on!" The computer was turned on and as it was warming up, Dawn half-heartedly listened to the TV in the background." {... You want to leave this house Daniel. You want to run for your life...} *You said it Nick.* When the figure started to point to the modem, Dawn didn't hesitate at all this time. Within moments the modem was working and trying to patch into the McMaster University modem pool. *Please let me get in!!! I don't ask for much...* To Dawn's surprise and amazement, she got through on the first try. *It usually takes more than half an hour on weeknights!* With the ghost hovering over her shoulder, Dawn started to go through her files. The floating mouse helpfully gave directions by moving left, right up and down. Suddenly she found it. [Ruth Dempsey, Affiliation: Die-Hard. Current Status: Dead. An apparent suicide in a Toronto hotel. NB: Check into it?] <<<>> "I take it that's you?" Dawn could tell that the ghost... Ruth? was excited. The futon chair had started to move across the floor and more and more objects started to levitate. More crashes could be heard from the kitchen.
Whether she had accomplished what she had set out to do or not. Ruth had obviously run out of time. She started to fade, and even her voice was becoming more and more indistinct. The objects had settled to the floor. "Ruth! Wait! Do you want me to check into it?" Dawn reached out to her, but Ruth was fading before her eyes. "Come back! I'm sure we can figure out a better way to communicate!" It was no use. Ruth had been temporarily exhausted but her activites and was almost completely gone. Dawn wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that just before Ruth disappeared completely, the ghost had made one last comment. It was faint, but seemed to resonate in the air, long after the last traces of white had disappeared. <<<<....Heathcliff....>>> Dawn looked around at the shambles that was left of her apartment. On the TV Schanke and Natalie fought over Lisa's comic books. Dawn wasn't paying attention though. She walked into the kitchen. "Oh well... Now I don't have to do the dishes." Curiouser & Curiouser! By Caile Donachaidh Kane I, having adopted Uncle's hours, rose as the night began to fall over Toronto. I went promptly to the computer and recieved the following message: *** From: mx%"jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu" To: mx%"LC@dungeon.com" Subj: for Caile Cousin Caile: The Raven/ettes attacked your accounts. Luckily, the dummies that Uncle set up for you foiled them - your *real* accounts are still safe in Switzerland where Uncle transferred them to. I told you, we did not forget a single precaution! Also, it helped that the person who made the attack was not very skilled - we'll find out who it is soon enough. So don't worry, you're still safe with Uncle. Just watch yourself. Cousin John w/ no time for a .sig jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu *** "Bloody hell!" I swore aloud to myself. The house was silent, my voice the only thing that broke the stillness. I muttered unflattering things under my breath about the Raven/ettes while I scrolled through the rest of the messages. Mostly personal mail for Uncle, which I left well enough alone, and posts from the lists. I read the posts that interested me, and left the lot for Uncle. In the meanwhile, I got phone call from my roomate, who informed me that my room's decor had been changed to baby pink, courtesy of the Raventtes. This did not improve my mood. I would tell Uncle when he got back. He had left a message stuck on the computer which informed me that he had gone out, and would be back when he finished his business. Wondering vaguely what sort of business he was up to, I decided I would go for a walk. Perhaps I'd go downtown... visit the Raven... I snickered to myself at the thought. After all, no-one but Janette & Risha has any idea of what I look like. But on the other hand, I do have Lacroix's mark on me... I toyed with the silver Vampire's Ankh that had appeared on my pillow the evening before. I'd put it on, knowing full well what it meant. Oh, what the heck. I forced myself to stop waffling and just go. Thanks to my Uncle- sponsored excursion at Saks, I had just the outfit to wear to the Raven. It was a long black slik dress, fitted with a lace-up bodice on top, nipped in waist, and flowing layers of silk for the skirt. It was low cut, off my shoulders, with full billowing sleeves. It covered my feet when I stood in it, and I put on only simple slippers to walk in. Over the top of this, I donned my full length black wool cloak - I was gonna need it, in this weather. I glanced in the hall mirror on my way out. In the lamplight, I looked like a person from an entirely different era. The ankh flashed. I shivered. I was ready to go. I had already committed all of the alarm codes to memory, and the key was in my purse. By the time I got back, Uncle'd probably be home anyway. I had a pleasant and uneventful walk through Uncle's neighbourhood. The street lights were bright and many, the houses well spaced apart with their iron fences. As I grew closer to downtown, however, I began to grow uneasy. I glanced behind me several times, and each time I thought I saw someone following me. A tall fellow dressed in dark clothing, a long black trench coat. I stopped and stared into a storefront, lighting a cigarette. The man crossed the street and stood in the shadows. He appeared to be taking notes. I continued on my way, winding through the streets toward the Raven. He was never far behind. I stopped at a Uni-Mart, and bought a chocolate covered cherry. He stood outside and wrote in his little book. I was beginning to feel like a hunted animal. Finally, I reached the Raven. The noise assailed my ears from the street. The man stopped several yards behind me. As I was about to go in the door, I whirled around - and he was gone. I trembled a little, now beginning to feel frightened. I lit a cigarette and steadied myself. Time to go inside and... have some fun, I told myself. Relax. I looked down at my hands, which were shaking violently, and ordered myself to relax. Then I went inside. The bar was packed. People were dancing , smoking, drinking. I went up to the bar and ordered a Glennfiddich, neat. Miklos stared at the ankh around my neck and told me they only had Dewars. "Just give a straight Scotch of any sort, please." I sighed with exasperation and prayed that he didn't ask for ID. He didn't have to. Long nails sunk into my shoulder. "This little one isn't old enough to smoke that cigarette in her hand," came Janette's voice from behind me, "much less drink that Scotch." She turned me around, and none too gently, either. "Wouldn't you rather have a pop?" "Janette, darling, how nice to see you," I purred, blowing smoke in her face. "So tell me - the guy who was following me tonight. Is he one of your people?" She blinked. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about." I considered this. It was possible - this was a *war* after all, and Uncle had warned me that there were some pretty high powers involved. I decide to believe her. "All right then. Now what do you..." I had intended to grill her about my bank accounts, but she cut me off with a gasp. Then her eyes narrowed. "What..." she said from between clenched teeth, "is... that... doing... around... YOUR... neck?" "A gift," I replied. She was obviously shaken by the sight of the ankh. "Get out," she snarled. "Don't let me ever see your face again. And tell your *Uncle*," she spat the name at me with contempt, "to keep his pets leashed from now on." She had me escorted to the door by a pair of beefy bouncers, who flashed their fangs at me in a departing smile as they pushed me out the door. I brushed myself off and fairly ran home. Uncle was waiting with a frown. I told him everything that had happened, and he sent me to my room. "This is something I need to puzzle out myself," he told me. I balked. "Why can't I help?" "Because you've caused enough trouble for one night." He looked like an angry father, staning with one hand on his hip. "Go on, there's a hot meal waiting up there for you. Take that stuff off your face and get out of that ridiculous costume. Now, go." The last was an order, not a statement. I reluctantly went on up to my room, ate my dinner and sat reading, until I fell asleep with the morning light. On the Road Again By Perri Smith Perri leaned her head against the plane window wearily. It had been a long day at the paper, rushing to finish the section before she could get to LAX and catch her flight ot Toronto. She hoped the paper would survive without her for the weekend - Nick needed her more than they did. She thought back over the events of the last day - Sandra's message about Nick wanting them to stay out of the war and the *beautiful* gifts from the Cousins had come together at just the right time - more than ever, Perri was determined to protect Nick from those traitorous Cousins, not to mention the Raven/ettes. Sandra and Nick had both given into the idea she and Windy had proposed -- to come to Toronto and make sure Nick had back-up -- only after many loud protests. As a matter of fact, it had taken Sandra the better part of an hour to convince Nick that they couldn't be talked out of it. He wasn't happy about it, darn his sweet, gallant, *naive* self, but the car and the credit card had been waiting for Windy at the airport, Sandra said, and there would be a shuttle waiting for Perri. Apparently, Nick had decided if they were going to be there, he would do what he could to keep them safe. She shivered in her seat, whether from tiredness, fear or excitement - she wasn't sure. To meet Nick in the flesh, after all the stories she had heard, all of the hero worship she had sent his way in the last few weeks. And then there was LJC, and Janette and La Croix - "I never even *liked* vampire stories. Now I'm walking into a bloody nest of them!" She spared a quick thought for the Ravenette Lorelei. By now, news of her retaliation should have gotten to her, even in Toronto. She wondered what the response would be. It could be anything. But no one outside the office would know she was gone - Abby would make sure of that by answering the phone in her name for anyone but LJC or Tara O'Shea, the only Ravenette who knew her voice. Abby was also going to moniter her e-mail and watch for tampering. She didn't put it past LJC to take a low blow at her accounts. Everyone on the paper thought the whole thing was terminally wierd, but a quick explaination about a stalker and family problems in Canada had talked them into going along with the gag. She *had* to keep the Raven/ettes from knowing she was in Toronto. "Hope Abby doesn't get into any trouble over this," she thought to herself, slowly drifting off into sleep. *** She woke up when the plane landed a few hours later. The shuttle was waiting for her, as promised, and she headed for the hotel. It was late enough that she didn't think any of the Ravenette's would be around - Nick had left a note warning her they were staying in the same place - but she knew she had to be careful. If the Ravenette's or the Cousins found out she was in town and not back in Los Angeles where she belonged, it could ruin everything. She dumped her one suitcase in her room and checked the cross around her neck for the fortieth time. It might not do much against vampires, but it was better than nothing. And the garlic in her purse didn't hurt. "Thanks for the idea," she told Susan G. in a mental tip of the hat. Picking up the phone, she made a few quick calls, checking in with her brother Lynn on the East Coast and warning him to make excuses to the list if anyone noticed she wasn't responding to posts -- no point in making LJC suspicious by silence. Then she called Abby, waking her at home. Abby said nothing had happened so far. Perri left her room, making *real* sure the door was locked and went down the hall, knocking just loud enough to wake whoever was inside. Windy answered the door, rubbing sleep from tired eyes. "It's me, Windy, Perri." Windy grinned at her, stifling a yawn. "Took you long enough to get here." "Sorry, my flight was late. Any word from Nick, Jim or Sandra?" "None yet." A curious meow came from at her feet. Perri leaned down to pick up the beautiful cat twining around her legs. "Oh, you must be Julian. Hello, gorgeous!" She stoked the cat absently, looking back at Windy. "Well, I guess we'd better get some sleep. We've got an ... interesting day tomorrow." "Yes, that's one way to put it." It was Perri who grinned and yawned this time, putting Julian down. "See you in the morning." She went back to her room after she heard Windy's door lock. She checked the locks on her own and made sure the garlic was close at hand. Then she turned out the lights, and slept. ------- CHAPTER 13 Wednesday, October 26, 1994 Toronto, Toronto By Windy L. Treese I got off my plane in Toronto and Julian was happy because he seemed to sense that he would set free from the cat carrier soon. Knowing the Knighties and Nick I knew there wouldn't be anyone waiting for me. I went to information and sure enough there was an envelope waiting for me. Windy: I couldn't be here so Sandra made arrangements for a car and hotel room for you and Julian. I think you are at the same hotel as the Ravenettes so be careful. Here is a credit card if you need supplies for the war (only defensive!). Hope to meet you soon, Nick Knight *Well, I hope to meet your caddy, but I willing to meet you to.* I went to the rental desk and picked up the keys thinking how convenient this was since I'm not old enough to rent a car myself. Thanks Sandra! I hauled my bags and the carrier to the car and went to the hotel. Julian liked the hotel alot. He ran around a little and then we both went to sleep knowing tomorrow was going to be another big day (or should we say night?). A Tight Squeeze By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy staggered into the Raven, exhausted. She looked stunning in her new black leather minidress, but the bags under her eyes did not go well with the outfit. She was still a little upset that she did not get to go shopping with the others, but the little errand she just got back from was very important to Janette. As she sat down at the bar, Janette approached her. "How did it go? Did you leave my note?" "Yes, of course. It took awhile to find perfect matches for everything, but I was very thorough." Betsy paused, then gulped and continued, " But I took the first flight out, and the movie kept me up all night. I'd really like to get back to my room and get some sleep..." "You can sleep on your own time dear, I need you to go to the museum as soon as it opens, and..." Janette took a better look at Betsy, "Wait, your face looks terrible. Maybe you should lie down for awhile. I can't have my people looking puffy. Go to the museum in the afternoon. I'll send someone with you with instructions." As she watched Betsy shuffle out of her club, Janette reminded herself that her pets were only mortal, and had less stamina. They had to recharge. But she soon forgot about her own people's problems when she remembered what that traitor, Monica, would be in for soon. Later that morning at Cousin Monica's home. "What the...? These jeans don't fit anymore either! They just fit last week. I don't understand what could be wrong." Monica tried a few more pairs of pants before she looked at the tags. Every pair was two sizes smaller than they should be. She started to panic. "But these are my clothes, How could this have happened?" She looked at her blouses. All of them, too. Two sizes too small. She ripped through her closet and drawers. Everything. Even her shoes. Finally, in the pocket of a jacket whose sleeves only came down to her elbow, she found a note: Monica Darling, The incredible Ravenette fashion sense works the other way too. Once you are not one anymore, you just don't look good. Good luck finding your old clothes! Janette The Rescue By Sandra Gray Nick pulled the rental car up into a secluded parking space several streets away from Susan Garrett's apartment building. He was playing a hunch here. He just hoped it was the right hunch. He looked at the front of the building from a dark area across the street. He was about to cross the street when he noticed two people approach and enter the building. He recognized LaCroix's scriptwriter, the black vampiress Jennise, and...Lisa McDavid? The Cousin involvment was more proof of LaCroix's betrayal. Maybe he was there even now. He still wasn't sure what LaCroix's game was, but whatever it was, Susan Garrett was not going to be a pawn in it if he could help it. He started to cross the street. Then hesitated, as Jennise and another woman (not Lisa McDavid) exited the building. They appeared to be in a hurry as they left. After they had gone, Nick crossed the street and entered Susan's building. Outside Susan's door, he listened. He heard only two voices--women's voices, talking. One he recognized as Lisa McDavid; the other voice was that of Susan Garrett. He extended his hearing, but the only other sounds he caught were animal sounds. Lisa must have been left behind as a guard over Susan. Somehow he had to figure out a way to get Susan out of her apartment without Lisa knowing it was him. And before the others--and maybe LaCroix--came back. He left the building and headed around to the back. Seeing no one about, he flew up to the window and in seconds had it open. He had to stay levitated until he got in--there was a loaded bookcase and a dresser in front of the window. Once inside, he went over to the door to listen again. Still only the two of them. He looked around the room. There was an animal here--a dog. Getting an idea, he allowed the vampire in himself loose and growled at him in in a low tone. He got the reaction he expected: the dog began barking. He kept an ear tuned to the voices in the living room as he agitated the animal. "What's with Diego?" said Lisa. "He probably wants out. I'll go get him," said Susan. Nick moved behind the door, just in case Susan didn't come alone. The door opened and Susan walked into the room. Nick quickly closed the door and grabbed her, putting his hand over her mouth. "Relax, Ms. Garrett. I'm here to get you out of here," he whispered. He released her, then moved to lock the door from the inside. Then he turned to her and said, "Hurry. We'll leave by the window." "I'm not going--" started Susan. But Nick just put a hand over her mouth and flew with her out the window, knocking off several items on the dresser in the process. Susan made a muffled squeak. As he flew for the car, he said, "Listen to me. LaCroix deceived me. He didn't tell me about Dorian. Trust me and I won't let either of them get to you." There was no one on the street near his car. Nick flew down to the ground and set Susan on her feet. "Why should I believe you?" Susan sputtered at him. "Laurie said you were in league with LaCroix." "At first I was. But only to try to save you from the Enforcers LaCroix said were after you." Susan stood open mouthed, not sure what to believe. "Get in the car," he said, opening the door. When she just stood there, he decided to use his powers on her. "Get in the car and stay there." Susan was compelled to obey. Nick walked around to the driver's side of the car and got in. As they drove off, he glanced at Susan and said, "Sorry about that. We don't have time to argue right now." "Where are you taking me?" "Someplace safe," Nick replied. Then he started for the airport. The Rescue, Part II By Sandra Gray "Where?" Susan demanded. Nick glanced at Susan, then looked back to the road. He increased their speed. "If you're safe, does it matter?" "Yes, it matters!" said Susan. Then she shut her mouth abruptly. There was a brief moment of silence and Nick said, "What does LaCroix have to do with this?" "How should I know?" "His people were holding you prisoner. I recognized his scriptwriter and...Lisa McDavid." Susan gazed out the window and said nothing. "Weren't they?" "Yes! No! I don't know!" Nick shot her another quick look, confused. "That is, Karin and Jennise *were* Cousins, but they're working as Dorian's assistants now. But then Karin gave me the earrings LaCroix stole from Lucinda--" "Hold on! You need to start at the beginning. How long were you held in your apartment?" Susan explained in somewhat halting terms how she had returned to her apartment rather than endanger her friends and found Karin, Jennise, and Lisa there. How Sally had come with the clothes, how Karin had said she could keep Dorian off guard or disturbed by wearing Lucinda's earrings. "Wait a minute. Who's Lucinda?" Susan told him in brief terms. "Okay. So Dorian *does* want to interview you. Because of your fiction." "Well, I've got some...sources." "Like Janette?" "Yeah, but some others too." "Why didn't you go to Janette?" Susan looked out the window again. "I couldn't contact her," she said. Nick glanced over at Susan. She was sitting very stiffly against the window. "What time was the interview scheduled for and where?" Susan crossed her arms and said, "I don't know." Nick again looked briefly at her. He felt the lie, but decided not to press her about it right then. "Well, you don't have to worry about it now." Susan looked at Nick. "No? Look...Nick...I do appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't see how I can avoid Dorian if he wants to interview me. Unless you intend to try to...destroy him or something." "There are other options," Nick said. He thought about Emily Weiss. He'd hypnotized her into giving up writing about vampires. If necessary, he could do the same to Susan to save her life. "Well, I did try to reach Ron the Enforcer to see if there were any loopholes in the Code that could get me out of it." Nick looked at her in some surprise. "Ron the Enforcer! You know him?" "Yeah, I do. I--haven't heard from him, though." She sighed and added, "I don't know. Maybe it would be better to just let him interview me--" "No!" said Nick vehemently. "It's too dangerous." An uncomfortable silence descended on the car. Susan looked out the window again and Nick felt her fear and worry. He peered out the window at the horizon. He realized there was no way he was going to make it to the airport before sunrise. He got off the highway at the next exit. "Where are we going?" asked Susan. "We're going to have to hole up in a motel until nightfall." Soon he spied a modest motel with a vacancy sign and pulled into the driveway. He registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, using hypnosis to make the clerk think he'd seen proper ID. He drove down to the parking spot in front of their room, then got out of the car and opened the door for Susan. "C'mon," he said. Susan just sat there. "Miss Garrett." She looked up at him and he exerted his powers again. "You can get out of the car now." Susan got out of the car and they went inside the room. And none too soon. The first rays of the sun were just beaming forth. Once inside the room, Nick tightly shut the russet drapes and locked the door. He hit the wall switch and an ugly orange lamp by the double beds came on. The carpet was orange too, the walls light blue. At least the drapes were thick. Nick pulled off his jacket and said, "I suggest you get some rest, Miss Garrett." He watched as she hesitantly took a seat on the far bed. "Don't worry. I'll keep watch," he added, smiling. She didn't smile back. He sat in a beige vinyl chair by the other bed. Eventually Susan laid down and fell asleep. But Nick stayed awake, wondering what he was going to do with her now. Fuming by Fed Ex By Sandra Gray I looked at the picture in shock, my heart rate quelling almost to non-existence. LaCroix? In a black nightie?! I shook my head slightly. I was glad Bruce was at work; at least I wouldn't have to explain *this.* I studied the picture a few minutes. Then I picked up the peignor. It WAS nice. Then I frowned. Was this some sort of Cousin dig? Had LaCroix told one or all of them about our private conversation in the last war? But, surely, even *he* wouldn't stoop this low...would he? I mean, to POSE like that while someone else took *pictures* of him? I looked at the picture again. I studied the background-- no clues there. I examined the package. No, someone else must have sent this. Ravenettes! It had to be them. They'd adready bothered me with a bogus COLLECT phone call from "Nick." But how could any of them have known that... I fumed. I packed the peignor and other items back in the box. Actually I wished I could keep it, but I knew what I had to do. I went over to the computer and looked up the address I needed and scribbled it down. Then I took out some note paper and wrote: Dear LaCroix, Although the peignor is attractive (the picture, too), I cannot accept your gift. You'll have to do better than that if you want me to become a Cousin. Sincerely, Knightie Sandra Gray After a few moments' thought, I added: P.S. Your "love letter" was also very badly written. And I won't be home tonight either. I put the note in the box and replaced the lid. I started to rewrap the package in its original UPS mail wrapping, but then I thought of something. I put the box and wrapper in a plastic bag and called a cab. Before long I was at King Photo. I took the picture of LaCroix out of the box and in a few minutes had made a copy of it. Maybe it would come in useful later. I put the copy in my purse and the original back in the box. I bought brown wrapping paper in the drug store down the street. Then I rewrapped the box--first in its original wrapping (as best as I could), then the new wrapping. A short while later I mailed the package by Fed Ex to LaCroix's apartment in Toronto. I had just enough time to get to the bus stop and home before Amanda got home from school at 3:30. I hoped LaCroix would not be pleased by the Ravenettes using his name and...form...in such a fashion. I hoped he'd try to trace the package's original mail wrapping to its' source. Mmmm, maybe I should have done that myself... No, he could do it. If LaCroix was anywhere near as angry as I had been...well, I pitied Janette and/or whichever of her minions had come up with such a scheme. It was only after I got back home that I began to wonder if I might also have made a BIG mistake. Goblin Checks In By Dionne Nelson TO: Janette@Raven.com FROM: Goblin009@aol.com SUBJECT: What have I missed? Hi, I'm back from the vets & then Grandma House (no visiting 3 yr. olds) I've caught up on my e-mail, but what do you have planned? Is it to late for me to at least listen in on the good gossip? I really wish I could sit at the end of the bar and watch. Have you seen Trill? He disappeared right after my accident. Goblin009@aol.com Cat, Ravenette Lost Kitten By Dionne Nelson TO: fkfic-l@psuvm.psu.edu FROM: DionneEN@aol.com SUBJECT: I'm Lost Is this going through? I'm not sure if I got the password right. Oh, I'm Trill, the Cousin Cat (I'm almost a Tom, just ask my people) Well, this is what's been happening to me. Thurs. night (20th) Goblin took me half way to the airport and vanished on the highway. I kept going like she said too, but I don't know where she is. I finally found the airport by my self, but the tickets where in her name so I had to pee on the rug before they put me in the box and on the plane. Only I was on the wrong plane! Toronto's cold right? I was someplace hot, and the trees only had branches on the top. I've been on a couple of planes since then. I think I'm on my way to Toronto now (talk to the stewardess longer Mr. Business Man, I'm not done with you laptop yet!) Can some one meet me at the airport? I want to talk to Uncle and my Cousins! Trill, using Dionne's account DionneEN@aol.com Peachy-keen By Jill Bradley Patrons of the luxury hotel were scandalized. The top floor of the hotel was noisy with the sounds of slamming doors and running feet. Giggles and raucous laughter were heard clearly. Downstairs, the hotel manager faced down yet another enraged guest. I am very sorry sir, but the occupants of that floor have, errr, diplomatic immunity. We regret this inconvenience to our other guests, however there is nothing we can do at present. Meanwhile, the guests in question had gathered in one room, all talking at once, reliving their previous night's adventures at the Raven. Angel called for attention. Did everyone bring their assigned items? The group began pulling out bags and boxes. Jill s voice rose above the general din. I think it will work best if we do an assembly line, don t you? She pushed her glasses up in a characteristic gesture and eyed the room with a calculating look. OK, let's get in a circle and just pass each piece along as we put on our part. With much joking and a few ribald comments, the Ravenettes gathered in a lopsided circle. Robert and Jeff each grabbed a bag and staggered over. What's in these things, rocks? Robert collapsed in laughter at his own wit. Jeff grinned and emptied the two bags onto the floor. The pieces of masonry were dusty and dirty, but at least the carpet muffled the crash. Moon reached behind her on the bed and brought down a box, from which emitted a strong odor. Ugh, nothing smells as bad as overripe fruit, she grimaced. Lori giggled. Just think how it will smell after being wrapped up tight for a few hours. I pity the delivery guys! Risha and Angel unpacked a bolt of pink material and began to cut it into squares. "Who got the glue?" Angel asked. There were a few seconds of silence, then, here it is, nevermind. OK, gang, let's do it. They all worked quickly and for a few moments it was quiet as each Ravenette contemplated the reaction of the Knighties. &%$^& this fur stuff, Risha finally exclaimed. It keeps clogging up the scissors. She bit her lip in exasperation, then jerked the scissors free. Angel glanced at her. I think that's enough, let me see...one, five, eight, ten, twelve. Yep, that's it. She and Risha stood up and stretched, wandering over to the bar while the others kept at their tasks. One by one, each of the other Ravenettes finished and stood up, grabbing now empty wineglasses. They stood there sipping, contemplating the sight on the floor. Like a flock of sheep, sat an even dozen pink, fur- covered bricks. Each brick had a small set of fangs attached to it and the smell of ripe peaches was almost overpowering. Moon snickered. Well, Knighties DO think Nick is a peach. The entire group collapsed on the floor writhing in laughter. As they sobered, each Ravenette took a fuzzy brick with fangs, packed it carefully and addressed it. Karen had volunteered to take them to the FedEx office since she another errand to run for Janette anyway. The bellboy was expressionless as he loaded the small packages onto a dolly. Karen grinned at his back as she followed him out of the room. See you all later at the Raven! The other Ravenettes murmured their goodbyes, some of them yawning as the events of the previous night began to catch up to them. *** Within three hours, packages were delivered personally to Dotti Rhodes, Sandra Gray, Pat Kong, Amy Denton, Tricia Lewis, Beth Singer, Ava Chan-Chowder, Camille Gerstel, and the Knighties known as GrimJim, Panthyr, Perri and Urchin. Each opened a package to find an extremely fuzzy brick with fangs...How the Ravenettes wished they could have arranged for cameras to capture those Kodak moments!! A Susan In Captivity By Susan Garrett and Karin Welss Susan opened her eyes, saw light blue walls, closed her eyes again-- Then sat bolt upright in bed. The covers fell back from her and she looked around wildly, succumbing to that customary moment of displacement consistent with food deprivation, mild story trauma, and having been abducted by a vampire cop. Nick was half out of his chair and she scuttled back against the headboard, then nearly fell from the bed and backed into the corner of the room still trying to remember exactly where she was and what had happened. "It's all right," said Nick, his tone quiet and reassuring, as if he were talking to a frightened child or pet. "You're safe here." "Safe?" She sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, you can say that, haven't been kidnapped twice in the same week." He returned to the chair and sighed in frustration. "You haven't been kidnapped. You're in danger. I'm only trying to protect--" "And I have at least two--no . . . make that vampires after me now. Karin and Jennise--no problem. They'll know this was all your fault." Folding her arms, she leaned back against the headboard and glared across the room. "But if LaCroix's after me--" "I can protect you from LaCroix." "You can't protect from LaCroix." Then she sighed when she spotted a glint of gold in his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. But you're pissing me off, here. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I want to go home." "I'm sorry," Nick said, sympathetically, but without looking like he was inclined to fix the situation. He blinked, and decided to go for one out of three. "Can I call room service for you?" "In case you hadn't noticed, we're in a cheap motel in the middle of Jersey. They don't room service." "Oh." Nick looked at the backlit hotel drapes and sighed. "A restaurant is out of the question--" "How about pizza? They deliver--" Susan's words were punctuated by the sound of her stomach growling loudly. Nick looked relieved, and gave her one of his charming little-boy smiles. "Pizza. That's a good idea." The smile disappeared forty-five seconds later when Susan concluded her phone order "--and a double order of garlic bread, please." "Is that really necessary?" he asked, as she placed the receiver in the cradle. "Was it to sign us in as and Gordon?" Nick smiled. "I was thinking of your reputation." "Like the hotel operator in Toronto didn't do enough for my reputation?" When Nick stared at her blankly, Susan waved her hand dismissively and plopped back down on the bed. "Aw--skip it! It's bad enough I'm going to have half the Knighties on the list e-mailing me for details once word gets out that you took me to a cheap motel, booked us as Mr. and Mrs., and that you wouldn't let me leave the room long enough to get a pizza." "Miss Garrett--" "For Pete's sake, call me Susan." She sighed again. "I mean, you've hypnotized me what--twice by now? We should be on a first name basis. I mean, after this `yes, master, no master' business--" "That's enough." Nick rose to his feet, took a step toward her, then paused when he saw her swallow. "Whatever you think, I trying to protect you. I don't want to frighten you, but you're in danger." "From who? LaCroix? You? Dorian?" She reached out her hand and grabbed the edge of the blanket, smoothing it. "I think Dorian's the last thing I have to worry about." "You don't understand--" Nick sat down on the other bed across from her. "He wants to interview you." "So?" When she glanced up at him, Nick looked away. "You don't know what it's like to be interviewed." "Hey, I'm only thirty-three, how long can it last? Up to toilet training should take a minute, maybe two. After that--" Her voice stopped abruptly as he looked at her, then she nodded. "Yeah, I know what you're saying. And I know what's going to happen if I'm not there. He'll come looking for me. And he'll find me, with --" "I don't think Dorian will fault you if you're being held against your will. There must be something in the Code covering that." "And is there something in the Code about what happens to my kidnapper?" When he shrugged and looked away, Susan grabbed the edge of the blanket and crumpled it in her fist. "You're dead set against this, aren't you? Nick--what exactly happen in an Interview?" Nick gave her a blank stare. "You mean you don't know? But after what LaCroix said, after everything you've written--?" "If any of you guys ever bothered to what I've written, you might notice I skipped that part. Panned to waves crashing on the beach, that sort of thing," Susan answered, a little more sharply than she'd intended. "Oh." "Nick-- . I need to know." "It's against the Code...." Nick picked up the television remote and began fiddling with it. The TV crackled to life, and sped through a display of wrestling, a game show, a soap opera, something in Spanish, and back to the wrestling. "But I'll tell you a little about my Interview." Susan's breath caught for a moment. "I thought--I thought you weren't supposed to talk about that." "Dorian isn't. We can't talk about or witness someone else's interview. But as far as I know, we can talk about our own interviews, if we want to. It's just that . . . no one really wants to. I never have." His eyes were fixed to the television screen, obviously able to catch images that whirled by in a blur in Susan's sight. She'd always thought that crazy gluing the remote scan button was a predominantly male trait and was beginning to believe that generalization applied to all males-- mortal immortal. "But . . . you're willing to make an exception in my case?" Nick finally looked at her, a slight smile on his lips. "Your case seems to be the exception to just about everything." This was an opportunity to die for and Susan felt her heart speed up at the prospect of getting the scoop on this particularly story. "You know," she said slowly, as he turned his attention back to the television, "I'm not a Knightie, I'm not one of your followers." "I know." Still, she hesitated, glancing to the television and then away again--the blur of colors made her sick to her stomach. "Then why are you doing this? I mean, if it's that hard--" "Because you're in danger. You need help." Nick waved the remote absently. "Maybe if I hit the highlights, run through some of what know, I might be able to come up with some way to get you out of this." He seemed distracted, still concentrating on the television screen. Susan realized only then that he seemed to be working up the nerve to talk about his interview. Which didn't ease her own fears in the least. "You, uh, have some ideas on how to get me out of this?" Nick nodded, then regarded her thoughtfully. "A few." She didn't much like the look he gave her. "A few more couldn't hurt, then," she said softly, knowing that the more options Nick thought he had, the more likely she was to come out of all of this in one piece. "That's what I think." After a moment of silence, Nick clicked a button on the remote; the television screen went blank and then he tossed the remote onto the table between the two beds. "This stays between us, right?" Nodding her head in assent, Susan folded her legs beneath her, and found herself wishing fervently that she'd ordered some tea with the pizza. As she leaned forward to listen, she made a mental note to inform Sharon H. that her hypothesis was correct--channel surfing was definitely a chromosomally-linked trait. Reflections By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat in the back of the cab. She spent far too long getting ready, and the others had gone ahead to the Raven. As the cab sped through Toronto, she thought back on the accomplishments of the day, checking items off of her mental checklist. After solving the problem with Janette's credit cards, the Ravens and Ravenettes had split into small groups to take care of individual tasks. Angel had spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through the piles of stuff the group had collected. Early evening, she managed to find time for shopping. Janette gave her the name of the shop that created her fabulous cloaks. Angel was presently wrapped in a beautiful, warm cloak. She was warm for the first time since arriving in Toronto. And the long cape hid the skimpiness of the attire it covered. She felt much safer walking the city streets. As soon as she arrived at the Raven, Janette would expect a progress report. Angel thought about the things they needed to accomplish in the next few days. Time was running short. The Ravens and Ravenettes needed to meet and discuss the next day's agenda. They would need to scatter to the far ends of the city to retrieve the information Janette had asked for. Angel wondered if Cousin John had received his second gift yet. It seemed like a bit much, two gifts in one day. Unfortunately, she had sent it off before discussing the day's events with Karen. She giggled wildly as she imagined John's reaction. The taxi driver looked at her nervously in the rearview mirror. He was relieved when she stepped out of his cab at the entrance to the Raven *** Cousin John groaned when he saw the box that awaited him on his desk. He had finally recovered from the shock of Karen's gift. Then he returns from his break to find another package. What was going on? Was this another "gift" from the Ravenettes? Maybe it really was from Cousin Mike, as the label said. He really didn't want to look inside. After eyeing the package for several minutes, his curiosity got the best of him. He walked to his desk, and pulled the top of the box open. He flew backwards in shock as something flew out of the box at him. After a moment, he got up from behind the table and looked at the box. What *was* that? He approached the desk cautiously. The box contained a spring-loaded rubber mask of Uncle! John grimaced as he threw the smiling effigy in the trash. In the box was a purple rose, lying on a note. Dearest John, Thought you might get lonely in New Mexico, so I sent you a Lacroix-in-the-box to keep company. Blood and kisses, Angel A Meeting of Minds (Part 1 of 3) By Susan Garrett Angel was standing by the bar, looking slightly green-- although it might have been the lighting. Making a mental note to have Miklos light to place to flatter the mortals, Janette sidled up to her. "Are we ready, ?" Nodding, after a moment's pause, Angel indicated the various Ravens and Ravenettes that had assembled. "I think everyone's here." "Good. Bring them to me for a moment. I think they should have a . . . what would one call it . . . a `pep' talk?" When Angel looked at her oddly, Janette smiled. "That's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it? So, gather my troops." She waited, moving to the far end of the bar as Angel moved among the crowd, tapping this shoulder, touching that arm. It was only a word or two, sometimes a glance in her direction for confirmation. In response, Janette merely raised the glass Miklos placed beside her hand, letting them know that they were summoned. "Quite a large crowd," commented Miklos, as he dried a glass with a towel. "Do you think you can handle them?" Janette's smile was pained as she touched his cheek with the tip of her fingernail. "They're only mortals, after all. How difficult can it be?" "I've heard rumors." When Janette raised an eyebrow, he added, "In July--" The fire in her eyes told him that he was treading dangerous ground. He escaped to the other side of the bar. Janette might have chased him down, but her followers were gathering. Seating herself on a barstool, she took the cigarette Robert handed her, then allowed Jeff to light it. "Children," she said, after a pause and a puff, "this meeting will be very important to us. To all of us. So I'll ask you to stay on your best behavior. Be careful with Natalie's little `friends.' And be tolerant--she hasn't trained hers as well as I train mine and they believe they may do what they wish." Leaning her head back, she puffed on the cigarette again and blew smoke into the air. "Of course, you all know better." There was a slight stirring amongst them, but no murmurs of dissent. Good. She didn't want any ruffled feathers now. "What would you like us to do?" asked Betsy. "Be . . . gracious. Offer them drinks. Make them comfortable--they've had such a difficult journey. Probably coach fare, no?" She let the giggles and chuckles among her group subside, taking another drag from her cigarette. We need their assistance and their cooperation. Show them what I can offer. Let them see the gifts I've given you. If a few of her friends might consider my sponsorship more appealing . . . she'll let them go easily enough. She let's them make their own choices--silly woman." Tapping out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar, Janette fixed her gaze on each of those assembled in turn. "But this is no membership drive. Tread carefully. We'll need Natalie and her friends as allies if we're to achieve our end. If of you starts any type of altercation, you'll answer to me. Do you understand?" "But what--?" Risha hesitated, looked at Karen, then cleared her throat when Janette settled her gaze on her. "What about revenge? For what they did to you the last time? I mean, I wasn't here, but I heard about it and . . . ." Janette stiffened, hearing Miklos' quiet chuckle from across the bar. She leaned forward and touched Risha's cheek lightly. "Darling, that's none of your concern, although it's nice of you to mention it." Releasing the frightened Ravenette, she sat up straight on the barstool. "There's to be no revenge. Perhaps later . . . if we've time. But I have a feeling we may be otherwise occupied." Janette's gaze moved to the front door--she could hear their heartbeats as they gathered, heard Natalie giving her group a little `pep' talk of her own outside the Raven. "They're here," she said softly, then looked over her brood again. They were an eclectic bunch, but they were well-dressed and perfectly groomed . . . and that's the way she liked them best. "Do your best, chicks," she told them, shooing them away with a wave of her hand. "Robert-- Jeff--attend me. And Angel--stay close." Taking Robert's hand--she there was a reason she'd tried to recruit more males this season--Janette slipped from the bar stool and took a few steps forward. It was time for a little `girl' talk. And she knew she'd enjoy the conversation immensely. A Meeting of Minds (Part 2 of 3) By Sharon Himmanen As they all piled out of Natalie's car and the taxi that had followed behind carrying several others Natalie surveyed her group of friends. On a whim, or because of some sense of pride, they had all actually made the attempt to fit into the scene at the Raven, although Natalie did decide that an afternoon spent clothes shopping with Sharon was something she didn't want to do for a long time to come. She didn't fool herself into thinking they could compete with Janette and her crowd, but she had to admit they all looked good. As they walked down the sidewalk toward the club entrance, Natalie stopped them, deciding that a last minute reminder as to what they were about wouldn't hurt, even though they'd spent most of the day planning what to do and say, planning how to act and deciding who it might be best to avoid. "Now remember," she said deliberately. "I *promised* Janette there'd be no repeats of what happened in July." Her gaze lingered on both Jennie and Tanaquil. "We can't afford to have this fall apart right now." She paused and smiled while Jennie and Tanaquil nodded their reassurances. "But," she said, turning and resuming her steps toward the Raven. "Be careful. And watch out for each other. They need *us*. And if we don't like what we hear, then we walk." It was still fairly early in the evening, but a bouncer stood in front of the door. He smiled sharply at them as they approached, then slowly moved aside, pushing the door inward with one large hand. "Ladies," he whispered, as the filed past him into the club. A Meeting of Minds (Part 3 or 3) By Susan Garrett She waited until they were inside the door, then slipped an arm around each of the young men's shoulders. "Do you see them, my pets?" asked Janette conspiratorially, as Natalie and her little group entered. Thankfully, they'd attempted to dress for the occasion--they hadn't succeeded, but they'd . She'd have to do something about Natalie's wardrobe when it came time. And wouldn't Nicola be surprised . . . ? But there were matters at hand--beneath her hands--to deal with. "Mingle, my lady-killers," said Janette proudly, eyeing each of the two young men in turn. "Figuratively, of course. Be attentive--their type always falls for that. Keep their glasses full and find their lives fascinating. Go, go, go!" With a light laugh, she slipped from between then and gave each a light push on the shoulder, sending them in the direction of Natalie's entourage. They were inexperienced, but they found their way easily enough; she smiled when she saw each one choose his victim, then move in to offer a seat, take a coat, get a drink. Yes, they had promise . . . . But Janette quickly turned toward the bar and snapped her fingers, gesturing over her shoulder. "That one--" she whispered. "Whatever she wants, give her the opposite. If she wants mixed, give her straight. Dry . . . she'll get sweet. She'll drink what I give her, not what she requests." Angel moved closer. "Isn't that Tanaquil?" "The ," hissed Janette with such rancor, that Angel moved back a step and even Miklos nearly dropped the glass he held in his hand. But he recovered immediately, as he always did. "I thought you said there'd be no--" "I'm allowed to change my mind, aren't I?" It didn't matter whether it was the tone of voice or the raised eyebrow--Miklos fell silent. Quickly grasping Angel's arm in a familiar grip, Janette moved forward. "Dr. Lambert--how kind of you to accept my invitation. And you brought your little friends. How . . . charming." Before Natalie could answer, Janette turned and started toward a table at the far end of the club, saying, "Won't you join me? Your friends can make themselves at home. Drinks are-- as they say--on the house." Angel was there four steps ahead of her and pulled out her chair, waiting. Janette gave her a gracious nod, seated herself, then pulled the chair in to the table. Angel stood to her left. When Janette put out her hand, Angel placed a cigarette in her fingers, then held out a lighter. Natalie made a face as she seated herself. "Do you have to smoke?" "It my club. But if it bothers you . . . ?" Janette tapped out the cigarette in the ashtray, then held up her empty hands. "You see? can make concessions." Two of Natalie's friends appeared to be joining them. "This is Sharon," said Natalie, by way of introduction. "And this is--" "Valerie." Janette managed a tight-lipped smile and she nodded toward the redhead. "Yes, I remember. Something about me not looking after my followers?" "What about looking after Susan?" asked Sharon quickly. "Laurie had to rescue her and she had to come to me for help because--" "Ah . . . they talk!" noted Janette. With a slight nod, she gestured Angel toward the bar. "Do they do tricks, as well? Your poison, Natalie? And . . . ladies?" Natalie's eyes narrowed, but she let the slight slide by. "I think Sharon will have a beer?" "Guinness," prompted Sharon. "And Val and I'll have a diet coke," decided Natalie, after glancing at the woman beside her. But after Angel had left, she leaned forward. "You've got ten minutes to cut to the chase. And then we walk. For some reason, you need me. You need . Tell us why we should help you." Instantly, Janette cast a regretful look at the cigarette in the ashtray--this was going to be more difficult than she'd thought. "I . . . want to throw a party." When she looked up, she saw Natalie staring at her in amazement. "What?" "I want to throw a party. No, hear me out," she said quickly, reaching across the table as Natalie rose, the others beginning to move their chairs. "There's danger--for all of us. We need to have a truce among all of the groups, even LaCroix's little maniacs. And to do that, I thought providing common ground might be best. Even LaCroix has the good taste not to interrupt a party for petty torture and riot." "What kind of danger?" asked Valerie. Janette eyed her, then looked away--that one would need to be watched. "Grave danger. I can't say anything more than that at present." When she saw the doubt in Natalie's eyes, she sighed and sat back in her chair. "What reason could I have for lying to you?" "I don't know," answered Natalie. "You tell me." She glanced at Sharon, then at Val. "Why not tell Nick and LaCroix?" "Because they wouldn't listen. Oh, I try to leave a message for LaCroix, but it slipped by him. He's dragged Nicola off on one of his little vendettas again. And you know what will happen if I try to get them in the same place at the same time." She gestured at Val and Sharon. " must know, after all, what it's like trying to get friends together. Someone isn't speaking to someone else, and someone is busy that night, and--" She threw up her hands. "Madness! No, that's why I need your help. If you're there, Nick will be there." Angel arrived with the drinks. She placed Janette's down first, then the beer, then the two diet sodas. Natalie removed the maraschino cherry from her soda--tossing in into Janette's ashtray. "I think you're overestimating--" "No. I'm not." Janette met Natalie's surprised look with an even glare. "Especially if he knows that Dorian will be present. Because if Dorian is there, and are there, Nicola will move heaven and earth to be there." She noticed that Natalie paled at the mention of Dorian's name and suddenly became interested in her diet soda. "Dorian is after Susan," said Sharon. "Or don't you remember?" "I remember perfectly well, thank you. I'd intended to use Susan's apartment for the party." With a wave, she indicated the club. "I've been to parties LaCroix and his little fiends have attended and I've no intention of seeing my club trashed. I've just redecorated, after all. Maybe in a few months, after I tire of the decor--" Sharon cleared her throat. "Uh, have you to Susan's apartment?" "No." Janette looked down her nose at Natalie's friend. "It in New Jersey, after all." "Small?" asked Natalie sympathetically. "Not really. But . . . too small for the kind of party you're talking about." Sharon picked up her beer and took a long drink, then set the bottle back on the table. " not big enough to hold Nick and LaCroix and you and Dorian." "You see," said Janette brightly. "This is why I need your help. That would have been a ghastly mistake on my part. And I don't like to make ghastly mistakes." She glanced at Val. "At least . . . not in print." "What about those pubs you were telling me about?" Natalie asked Sharon. "The ones in Greenwich Village? Where you got the yard of ale?" "Pubs?" Janette narrowed her eyes. "Tell me more." Sharon shrugged. "Well, they're owned by the same people and they carry a hundred beers from all over the world. They're about a block apart--three of them. "The Slaughtered Lamb," "The Jack the Ripper," and "The Jeckyll and Hyde." Val blinked. "They called a pub `The Jack the Ripper'?" Then, she smiled. "You know, that might not be a bad idea. Rent out all three for the night. You, Nick, and LaCroix would have your own home bases and you could mingle without feeling put out." "It an idea," said Janette, after a pause. "LaCroix would claim `The Slaughtered Lamb.' I should think `The Jeckyll and Hyde,' would suit Nicola perfectly, yes?" "And you could have `The Jack the Ripper,'" finished Val, with a sly smile. "I think you'd feel at home, there." Janette frowned and pointed at her. "Don't push me." "I think," said Natalie quickly, "that it's a great idea. But that still doesn't explain how you're going to get everyone there." Janette shrugged, carefully noting that Angel still hovered nearby, in case she was needed. She desperately wanted a cigarette, but . . . . "As I said, Nicola is no problem--he'll be there if he knows that you'll be there, without protection from Dorian. Your people will go because you ask them. My people will go because I'll tell them." Then, she sighed. "Unfortunately, Nicola and LaCroix have disrupted my plans. Now have some foolish idea that Susan poses a danger to us." Janette gestured toward Valerie and Sharon. "You don't have any difficulty with the things your friends write, do you? It's . . . nice to read about oneself every now and again. Makes us feel more . . . real, don't you think?" "A little," answered Natalie, after a pause. She nodded toward Val. "I don't have any problem with anything Val's written. And Sharon doesn't--" Janette laughed as Sharon began twisting her napkin into a thin rope. "I think your Sharon ." Sharon glared at her. "Susan told you." "No. But I know Susan. This writing thing with her--she people. And you're one of her friends." Janette smiled sympathetically. "It was only a matter of time." "You never said a word!" Natalie shook her head. "You going to let me read it?" Sharon paled suddenly. "I--uh--" Then she placed her hands around the beer bottle and looked at Janette squarely. "And that's beside the point. How were you planning to get the Knighties and the Cousins to the party? Not to mention the FoDs?" "Bait--just as Nick will follow Natalie, the Cousins will respond to torment. If we annoy them enough, LaCroix will have them follow my pets to their lair--which will be in New York." She smiled at Angel over her shoulder and said, "You're taking notes, I hope? And you'll the designers there." Valerie cleared her throat. "And the restaurants--the FoDs wouldn't have a chance!" "Precisely." Janette nodded toward her. "The Die-Hards are the only group who'll respond politely to an invitation, because they can't resist the attempt to play peacemaker. Our only problem is the Knighties--although they'll follow Nicola if he asks. It's only a matter of getting him to ask--?" "For which you need . . . me?" asked Natalie. Janette shrugged. "It would be to our mutual benefit. And you'd be helping me to save LaCroix and Nicola, despite their best efforts to the contrary." "And who's going to save Susan?" asked Sharon. "I don't know." Janette shrugged. "She may not even need saving--one never knows with LaCroix. I see his hand in this." Natalie frowned. "You'd give one of your people to LaCroix?" "One. Or all. Does it matter?" Janette smiled, and looked at Angel. "They're only mortals, after all." "But . . . so are we," said Valerie, her voice taut with anger. "Yes. So you are." Janette held out her hand toward Natalie. "Do we have a deal?" Sharon shook her head negatively, ever so slightly. Valerie was frowning. But Natalie only paused a moment before taking Janette's hand across the table. "All right--we'll help you with the party. But I want to be in on this `great danger' conference--none of this `only a mortal' crap." "If you wish." Janette picked up her glass and drained it in one long swallow, then handed it back to Angel. "There's only one more matter that concerns me at the moment--" Natalie glanced at her friends, then back at Janette. "Which is?" she asked suspiciously. "What we're going to find for you to wear." The Rescue-Enforcer Part By Ronni Katz Ron the Enforcer made it back to his apartment. The first thing he did before he even took off his coat was snap on the computer to get his messages. Everyone was convening in NYC for parties on Tuesday, the day after Halloween. Cool. "Maybe I can make Dorian forget the whole Interview thing if I can get a few Yards of Newcastle ale into him!" Ron thought to himself with a wicked grin as he removed his leather jacket and settled down in front of the keyboard. He got his mail and read the most recent posts. However, the most pressing thing on his mind was NOT Cousin John's silly pranks (funny though they were - DISCO at the Raven! What a panic!) but he was concerned about Susan G. He *knew* she was holed up in a motel not too far off with Nick guarding her (well, the brick with fangs does make a good guard dog) and no Kindred (with the RARE exception) ever ventured out during daylight, so Ron fetl confident Susan would be fine until sundown. Ron left an E-mail message for Dragutin about the parties in NYC (his Chantry in NYC had a computer with full NET access, even though Dragutin himself wasn't all that hip to it, and Ron could easily send his associate mail franked through the address of one of the other Mages in residence there). After making sure his friend knew what was up, Ron changed, showered and decided to crash out until sundown. But as soon as sundown hit, Ron was going to rendezvous with Nick and Susan and try to convince them both to stay at his place. Ron's apartment was small, in a safe part of town and easily defendable - all three were factors the Enforcer felt were essential. The Enforcer fell asleep feeling confident he would be able to accomplish his mission....... The Rescue, Part III By Sandra Gray "I'm hungry," said Susan. "And I want some tea." Nick looked at her from his position by the window. "It's dark now so we can go." He smiled slightly. "We'll stop somewhere for food." He walked over to the chair and picked up his jacket and slipped it on. "So we're checking out?" asked Susan, rising from the bed she'd slept in. "Yeah. C'mon," said Nick. He walked over and opened the door to the room--to see Ron the Enforcer standing there. Nick growled and bared his fangs. The other vampire shoved him back into the room and shut the door. Then he raised his hands and said, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help." Nick hesitated, but still took a fighting stance. "You don't stand a chance against me, Nick, and you know it," the Enforcer continued. "I have no reason to trust you," growled Nick. The Enforcer dropped his arms. "I know. I stole your body and used it for my own aims. But if you've got any memory of that time, you know I'm no friend of LaCroix." Nick suddenly got an image of himself sprouting long claws from his fingertips and slicing into LaCroix's abdomen with them. "I remember," he hissed. "I owe you for your help, even if it wasn't exactly consensual." "I don't recall asking for it." "What do you intend to do with Susan? Get one of your mortal friends to watch her when you can't? Think one of them can stand up to LaCroix...or Dorian?" Nick considered the situation. He had been thinking about what to do with Susan all day. He couldn't involve his followers in such a dangerous enterprise. Nor could he take her to Toronto. He looked at Susan. If he could get her to tell him about the interview... "Let me help," said the Enforcer. Nick turned his attention back to the Enforcer. "How?" he asked warily. "Both of you come with me to my apartment. It's well defended. The two of us together should be able to protect Susan and work on solving the problem of Dorian." A muffled grumble came from Susan, but Nick resisted the urge to look at her. If the Enforcer was telling the truth about wanting to help... He got no sense that Ron was lying, but for all he knew The Enforcer could mask his feelings and the truth. "Trust me," said the Enforcer. Nick considered, then said, "All right. Where's your apartment?" "Up and thataway." "*By car.*" "Oh, it's in New York about an hours' drive from here. Sure you'd rather not fly?" He smiled. Nick glanced at Susan. "I'd rather drive." The Enforcer shrugged and opened the door. Nick suppressed his vampire side and, taking Susan by the arm, walked out into the night. Jennise and Karin Return to New York By Jennise Hall and Karin Welss EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT Karin now drives as she and Jennise speed down the highway. Jennise studies the homing monitor. JENNISE They've stopped. KARIN Of course. The sun's coming up. Jennise looks up at the sky nervously. JENNISE Will we make it? Karin's foot presses the gas gage to the floor. KARIN Yup. INT. MOTEL ROOM - NEXT NIGHT The room is the same as Susan and Nick left it moments ago. The door slams inward. JENNISE Aw right Nick! KARIN They're gone. JENNISE I see that. KARIN (under her breath) Should have seen it before we got here. Jennise hisses at her friend. JENNISE We're in deep kimchee here. KARIN I know that. Jennise flops down on the bed. JENNISE You don't think Pops planned this, do you? KARIN Why would Uncle plan for us to completely screw up a simple assignment by looosing a mortal twice! JENNISE I thought you had her convinced. KARIN Well, it was your idea not to sleep at her apartment! If we'd been there...! Jennise's eyes suddenly go gold. JENNISE So this is my fault?! Karin's eyes flare just as suddenly. KARIN If the fangs fit...! They lunge at each other. Suddenly, both vampires crash to the floor grasping their heads. Each obviously in pain. INT. LACROIX'S PLACE - NIGHT LaCroix's eyes burn deep menacing red. LACROIX An end to this silliness. INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT They writhe for long moments. Finally, they begin to relax as the pain subsides. JENNISE As if we're not in enough trouble with Dorian, you have to start a fight. KARIN Please. Shut up. I can't take that again. JENNISE Uh. What do you think the odds are that Nick will fly Susan to New York? KARIN No chance he's gonna leave the caddy behind. EXT. MOTEL - NIGHT Jennise and Karin help each other as they stumble out of the motel room. JENNISE Think maybe if we fly, we can save our jobs? KARIN Worth a shot. JENNISE Think Pops is gonna be p***ed? KARIN Probably. But I'm sure you can get us out of it. JENNISE Thanks for the vote of confidence. Side by side they launch themselves into the air. Confusion By Karen Knight Karen was worried. Things weren't right. The information she'd gathered... Karen walked into the meeting with her printouts. She sat down and tried to listen to what was going on but couldnUt concentrate. "Karen. Karen! Is something wrong? You're so distracted." "Angel, is it possible... Are there *others* who would want to destroy all of us? I mean every faction?" "What are you talking about?" "Well, you know I've had a little trouble from people who were upset with my War posts. I didn't put a colon or some such nonsense. Anyway, I thought it was harmless - a few rude people displaying their obvious lack of class and IQ, but..." "But what?" "I haven't been able to trace these posts. Every time I try, I get bumped from the system, and early this morning, the entire system shut down. Then there are my printouts - entire articles, the important pieces of them, are missing." Angel's eyes had been growing larger by the minute. "You said before that your e-mail had been tampered with and you thought it was a Cousin..." "I'm not so sure anymore - I heard that Cousin Caile's e- mail had been tampered with too. Now this one too!" Well, Isn't That Just Peachy By Sandra Gray I looked again at the box that had been delivered to me a short while ago. The smell of overripe peaches had at least informed me that it probably wasn't more lingerie. I had an idea what to expect due to the ribbing we admirers of Nick got on the list, but that didn't mean it still didn't make me mad when I saw the pink fur covered brick with fangs lying in the box. What I didn't understand was why the Ravenettes were attacking me. "Who was that at the door?" asked Bruce as he came out of the kitchen. Fortunately, Amanda was over at Christie's. I closed up the box. "Uh, it was nothing." "What's that smell? Smells like rotten fruit." He came into the living room. "Where'd the box come from? And why-- " As he got closer, he said, "Are there bad peaches in there?" "It's just someone's idea of a joke," I said. He opened the box and looked at the object inside. He hefted it and said, "What is it? A brick. With fangs?" He noticed the card in the box and picked it up as well. "From the Ravenettes?" He put the brick back in the box and looked at me. "Why are they targeting Knighties? Since I assume that's their opinion of Nick." "I don't know," I admitted. Bruce sat down and sighed. "I don't understand why that war stuff wasn't solved with the separate mail drops." "Neither do I." "This isn't the start of worse hostilities, I hope." I didn't say anything. "I wasn't thrilled that you got involved `organizing' the Knighties." I chewed my lip. "Somebody had to step in. Sharon didn't have time. Besides, it's not like we're running off to Toronto like last time." "I still don't like it much. LaCroix might have taken our tampering with his radio station well, but I'd just as soon we not push our luck where he's concerned." He paused, but I didn't say anything, glad again that he hadn't been here when I had gotten the nightwear gift. If he'd known what I'd done with it... "I thought Nick was trying to work for peace." I focused on Bruce again. "He is." "He must not be having much luck." He picked up the box again. "Oh well, at least this is harmless enough." He smiled. "Kind of funny." "Yeah," I said dryly. "Really funny." "Well, I've got to get to my church meeting. See ya later." He put on his jacket and left. I decided to log onto the computer, maybe send a query to the rest of the group as to what to do about these attacks on me. But what was this? As I read through the messages group memebers had sent me, it soon became apparent that everyone in the group must have gotten a similar "gift" from the Ravenettes (even though all of them had not emailed me yet). They'd launched an all out attack on us. But why? Damn them! I knew Nick didn't want us to attack anyone. But, by God, he sure as hell couldn't object to us *defending* ourselves. I send out email that it was time for a counterattack. Sending in a Spy By Sandra Gray "Hello?" said GrimJim. "Jim? It's Sandra. Is it safe to talk? Your phone line is secure?" "Yeah. What about yours?" "I don't have any expertise at that kind of stuff. I'm calling from a pay phone. Listen, can't talk long. We've learned that several of the Ravenettes have gone off to Toronto. I suspect they're going to the Raven to get war instructions from Janette. Since you're already there, how do you feel about doing a little spying?" "Sounds okay with me." "Does anyone in the Raven know you?" "No, don't think so." "Good. But just in case, it might be good to take along a little insurance." "What kind of insurance?" "Listening devices that you can leave in the Raven if you think you might be in danger of being found out. I'll leave the kind up to you." "Okay." "How much money will you need for them?" Jim thought a few moments and named a figure. "Okay. I'll wire you the money right away. As soon as you find out any definite plans that they have, get back in touch with me." "Sure thing." "Good luck, Jim. I'll be waiting to hear back from you. Bye." "Bye." I hung up the phone and then went off to wire Jim the money he needed. Nick Gets a Clue By Ronni Katz Ron *felt* Nick's arrival long before the detective hit the buzzer on the Enforcer's front door. He knew Susan was with him and could tell she was a little nervous. Ron wanted very much to have some fun with Nick and use his vampiric powers to open the door instead of doing it manually but decided against it. `I have all night to play with Nick's mind,' the Enforcer mused gleefully as he opened the door *manually*. He was still smiling like a cat with cream on its whiskers when he came face to face with Nick and Susan. "Come in," he invited the duo, both of whom looked in need of rest and a *real* meal. "This had better not be a set up," Nick warned as he scanned the apartment with his keen vampiric senses. "I'm alone here," Ron stated flatly. "Once you two are in, I can key the Wards." "Wards?" Susan queried, eyes widening slightly. "Yes. Dragutin placed some enchantments on my haven to keep the uninvited out. I was taught the workings needed to both activate and disarm them. And I have found the Wards work far better than an ADT system!" Susan caught the reference and smiled. Nick still was keeping Ron under a wary eye. The vampire detective did not trust his host one inch and The Enforcer *knew* it. "Look, Nick, if I wanted to hurt you, do you think you'd still be walking around right now?" Ron stated, his eyes glowing a menacing shade of red. "It s *Dorian* who is the enemy, not me. He's the one we need to defeat." "Do you always have to look at life like you are standing on a battlefield?" Nick asked. "I'm an Enforcer, Nicolas. A warrior. A *killer*," Ron told him point blank. "Or have you forgotten that?" "No, I haven't. Nor have I forgotten the things you did the last time we faced each other." Ron caught the reference but chose to ignore it. He changed the subject saying, "We have days to prepare. Your party is at the Jeckyll & Hyde, an AWESOME place - trust me. After the Interview, if all goes well, I'll treat you to a yard of Newcastle ale. That is, if you don't piss me off!" He glared at Nick. Nick glared back at him, eyes glowing red. "Susan's not going to any Interview." Then he said, "What party?" Ron grinned, his expression *human* again and he continued, "The Cousins will be at The Slaughtered Lamb. Your admirers, Natalie, and all the other mortal groups will be at the Jekyll & Hyde. Your darling Janette will have her group at the Jack The Ripper - a club named after someone my brother knows *too* well." Nick eyed Ron speculatively, hoping the Enforcer would reveal the identity of this nameless *brother*, but, much to his disappointment, Ron said only, "All courtesy of Janette. Even Dorian's been invited--to The Slaughtered Lamb." Nick looked at Susan. "Was your interview with Dorian scheduled to take place in The Slaughtered Lamb?" Susan looked at Nick, then Ron, then back at Nick. "Yes," she said. Nick looked at Ron. "That's obvious! It was probably set up just for the purpose of interviewing Susan." said Ron. "Then it's someplace we don't want to go." "What? If Susan doesn't show up for that interview, Dorian leaves!" "Susan's not going to be interviewed." "What are you gonna do--leave her behind? She's better off with us, under our protection--" "I won't allow her to be interviewed!" "Nick, I'm willing to help, but don't be stupid here." "She's not going!" "Geez, you *are* a brick with fangs!" Ron glared at Nick, who glared back. "Uh, guys, do you two think you can *not* argue?" Susan interjected gently. "I mean, if we all have to spend-- days here cooped up in this small apartment, then couldn't we at least *try* to be friends?" After a moment, Nick said, "When are these parties supposed to take place?" "Tuesday night, November 1st. And after my work is done," the Enforcer continued, "I'm going to the Lamb to catch up with my star student Cousin John and we're going to lift a few yards and enjoy ourselves." "LaCroix will be there," Nick stated. "He knows better than to screw around with an Enforcer, especially one who he *knows* is as old and touch as he is!" "Guys!" said Susan. Ron and Nick exchanged a look before returning their gazes to Susan. Both men knew she was right--that they shouldn't fight. Nick didn't want to tangle with the Enforcer but he was still angry with Ron for what happened last summer. The Enforcer used him and Natalie as a means to get revenge upon LaCroix and had preyed upon Nick'weakness (his desire for humanity) in order to do this. Nick knew why he had been used and could live with that but the fact that the Enforcer had taken advantage of Natalie and had deceived his other friends was the reason why Nick could *not* find it in his heart to trust the Enforcer now. Ron knew what Nick was thinking but kept quiet. Nick would be at his throat if he knew the Enforcer was scanning him mentally. Ron was *very* thankful his Sire had taught him how to use *all* his vampiric gifts. One doesn't live for over two millenia unless one is well schooled in the ways of one's Immortal Blood. The Enforcer knew Nick didn't trust him but he could live with that. `&*%$ it,' Ron thought to himself as he went into the kitchen to get himself a *drink*. The ball's in Knight's court. He can pass it or fumble..... Nick Makes Some Calls By Sandra Gray Nick had listened to Ron the Enforcer's briefing. He wasn't sure what to think of it--or Ron, for that matter. He still wasn't sure if the Enforcer could be trusted and until he was, he intended to keep a watchful eye on Susan Garrett, who sat restlessly on the couch. He was glad that he'd had the foresight to "convince" Captain Cohen to give him two weeks off from work. At least no one would be expecting him there and LaCroix wouldn't be able to find him either. But he still wasn't sure what to do about Susan. Should he take her to the party--trust the Enforcer to help guard her while he dealt with Dorian? Dorian was going to be at LaCroix's party--was it more evidence that LaCroix was playing a big part in this interview business? He wished he knew. Then suddenly he thought of something. "Can I use the phone?" "Go ahead," said the Enforcer. Nick dialed his home phone for messages. There were a couple from Sandra Gray that said she had important news and one from Natalie just asking to talk to him. He decided he should call Sandra and see what she had to tell him. Maybe it was something useful. The phone rang a few times and then her voice said, "Hello?" "Sandra? It's Nick." "Nick! I've been trying to reach you. Schanke told me you had taken time off." "To look for Susan Garrett. What did you want to tell me that was important?" "Janette's planning parties for you, LaCroix, and her at three pubs in New York." "I know." "You do? Did Natalie tell you?" "No. Ron the Enforcer did." Sandra hesitated, then said, "Oh. Well, did you also know that Dorian is supposed to be at the parties? That must mean Susan is meant to be taken there." "Susan's safe with me. I don't intend to let her be interviewed by Dorian." "She is! Well, I'm glad to hear it! She's there with you in Toronto?" "We're in New York, at the Enforcer's apartment." Sandra hesitated, then said, "Is he--well, okay to be around? Being an Enforcer." Nick glanced around, but Ron had gone into another room apparently. "I think so. But I'll be careful." "So what about the interview? You're going to do something to prevent it." "I'm going to do my best." "Are you planning to confront Dorian at the party?" "At least I could find him there easily." "Well, listen, I can get the group together to help." "No, that's okay." "Nick, please. We can at least distract the other group's mortal followers, or watch Susan--" "No. No mortal watches Susan." "Okay. But you should have some support at the party if you're going to attend it." "You're going to come regardless of what I say, aren't you?" "Yeah." Nick sighed. Then he said, "All right. If you have to be here, do whatever you want to get yourself--and whatever others--here. I just hope you'll keep out of trouble." "We'll try. Thanks Nick." When he didn't reply, she said, "We'll--see you at the party then, but if you need our help sooner, call me." "Yeah," Nick said, a bit uncomfortably. "I have to go now." "Where can I reach you if I need to?" Nick gave her the phone number. Then they said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone. He frowned. It was looking more and more like he was going to have to attend that party, if only to make sure his followers came to no harm. Or Natalie... A State of Siege By Susan Garrett Susan was amused. She sat on the couch wearing Ron's bathrobe, hair still wet from her shower, and glared across the room at Nick, who seemed to be checking Ron's apartment windows for the tenth time. "I want to go ." Nick glanced over at her, still wearing that patient yet amused expression that was really starting to irritate her. "You'll be safer here." "I don't want to here." Folding her arms, she continued to glare at him. "And I'm staying." Ron was across the room in a blur. His hands leaning on the back of the couch, he said, "I wouldn't advise trying to escape. You wouldn't get far." His speed startled her, as well as the slightest amount of threat in his posture. But she glanced over her shoulder and up at him, trying to keep her voice steady. "I wouldn't to. During the day, anyway." Susan smiled politely up at Ron. "Even with all the voodoo advantages you have on Nick, you have your limitations. It's just a matter of finding them. Not that I ," she amended quickly, when she saw the slightest bit of gold in Ron's gaze. "If--" "If?" asked Nick, sitting down across from her. Susan adjusted the bathrobe slightly. "I want a laptop." "Maybe I didn't make myself clear," said Nick. "We're going to have to keep you here for a few days. Which means no outside communication. A laptop is--" "You can keep the modem," explained Susan patiently. "I just need the word processor." "Planning on sending out notes in bottles?" asked Ron, suddenly interested. Handling Nick alone had been enough of a problem, but being double-teamed by two vampires who'd decided they knew what was best for her--all the while arguing with one another and without consulting her, of course--was something Susan wasn't prepared to deal with. "I'm bored," she told him, looking over the couch. "Yes, your movie collection is great, I'm just not into action films--" "I've got some horror," offered Ron quickly, moving to the cabinet where he kept his laser discs. "How about `Psycho'?" "If you don't let me finish a sentence, I'm going to turn into one." Susan looked back at Nick, who seemed rather pleased at her dismissal of Ron's ideas on entertainment. "I have no clothes, no money . . . not to mention the fact that I'll probably get fired for not showing up at work, not that it's any great loss. The least you can do is front me a laptop so that I can get some writing done." "Isn't that why you're in this trouble now?" asked Nick. "Oh, for God's sake, it's not like I'm going to trash your Caddy or anything. Well . . . not much," she admitted, after which he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It keeps me amused. Since you're going to hold me prisoner--all right, keep me in protective custody," she amended quickly, as Nick began to protest, "I'll make a deal with you. Just make sure I have plenty of tea, a laptop, some clean clothes-- sweats'll be fine--feed me a couple of times a day, and . . . I won't try to run out on you." She looked over her shoulder at Ron. "Either one of you." "That's all?" asked Nick suspiciously. He sank back against the chair pillows, still watching her. "We'll take shifts," decided Ron, also turning his gaze on me. "But I say--why the hell not? Be safer for her. And safer for us, short of--Nick, did you bring your handcuffs?" Susan stiffened at that suggestion and looked up at Ron in near panic, then relaxed, annoyed and more than a little angry, when she saw he was teasing. Nick seemed just as annoyed, but also slightly puzzled. "I don't think Miss Garrett--Susan," he corrected, when she frowned, "would harm us." "You mean, you don't think she harm us." Ron chuckled. I grew very still as he added, "And you think arrogant? I've seen some of her fiction. She knows enough to hurt us, if she wanted to. Not that she'd get the chance--" There was that attitude of warning again. It was tough to give as good as she was getting, considering that she was wearing a bathrobe and trying to out-macho two vampires, but she gave it a shot. "Cut me some slack, here. I'm not asking for the world--just a lousy laptop and some tea. I assume you know food and clothes are a necessity and covered by the Geneva Convention." When Ron made a noise, she glanced up at him with wide eyes. "We in war-time, after all." "Hey, war-time I understand. As far as the Geneva Convention goes, I think the bathrobe covers it," said Ron easily, grinning slightly as he seated himself on the arm of the couch, on the side furthest away from her. "Well, of it. And we don't have to worry about you getting far in a bathrobe." Susan swallowed, trying to decide whether she should be angry, annoyed, or afraid. And just when she'd pretty much settled on a combination of the three, Nick rose to his feet quickly, giving Susan a reassuring nod as he passed by her. "Back off." Nick moved to stand beside Ron. "We're preapring for a state of siege. Like you said--there's no harm in giving her what she wants, makes it easier on us, right?" "Right . . . ," answered Ron, eyeing Nick suspiciously, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Let me guess-- I've been voted cash-and-carry boy of the year?" "It's your turf," said Nick, backing up a step and shrugging slightly. "You know the local places, what's open. If money's a problem--" "Money is the problem. And this city never sleeps." Ron glanced down at Susan, then back at Nick. "If you think you can handle her by yourself-- I'll set the outer wards after I leave, just in case." "Whatever." Nick turned his back toward Ron. "Just get something . . . appropriate." "Lap-top or clothing?" asked Ron. He eyed Susan speculatively. "I'd say black or gray sweats and a 120 meg hard drive, eight meg of RAM." "Don't forget Windows and Word," warned Susan quickly. "I don't have my disks here, remember? Black Currant tea would be nice, with a bottle of honey and a tea kettle if you don't have one--I don't do microwaved water." "Can do. I'll pick up a bottle, too. Amaretto, wasn't it?" Ron's smile turned into a grin after Susan nodded hesitantly. "For the main course?" Nick cleared his throat. "I think Chinese take-out will do for tonight. Is that all right?" "Lo-mein or tangerine beef--easy on the hot stuff," cautioned Susan. "Szechuan, if you can find it." "Easily said, easily done." Ron frowned slightly, then looked at Nick again. "This may take me a while, but like I said--those wards are pretty much set for anything, from outright assault, to psi search, to most transmitter frequencies. You should be secure enough here. You get into trouble, just yell." "I don't think there'll be a problem," said Nick evenly, as he turned back toward the windows. "Yeah. Well . . . yell anyway." Susan watched Ron leave, even thought she saw the doorway shimmer slightly as he passed through it, before it closed behind him. It was oddly disturbing. She nearly started when she turned her head and found Nick standing beside her. "Geez--don't move so fast!" "Sorry." He moved away, back toward the windows again. Now that Ron was gone he seemed more at ease . . . and also more alert, looking over the doors and windows with a practiced eye. Susan watched him for a few seconds. "I--uh--appreciate the suggestion. About the Chinese food?" "I didn't want a repeat of that garlic bread spitball incident." "I said I was sorry, but you tick me off." Susan tried to look apologetic. "I promised not to do it again." Nick shook his head slightly, glancing at her briefly before moving past her and back to the door again. "Much as I hate to admit it, he may be right--you know enough to hurt us." "Well, who told you to take your shoes off? God knows what you could have picked up from that motel room carpet-- yech! Besides," she shrugged, her wet hair scattering water droplets as she moved, "I forgot you liked to walk around in bare feet." Nick had been squatting down beside the door, watching the wood frame seem to warp slightly when he placed his hand near it, but looked back at her comment, suspicious. "You know that?" When she nodded, he rose to his feet, his attention still on the door frame. "I think you'll be safe enough here." "If you say so." Reaching behind her, she grabbed a handful of her wet hair and carefully wrung it out, tired of the water dripping down her back. "I suppose I should thank you." "I trying to help," he said, in a very careful tone of voice. Susan frowned and concentrated on her wringing out her hair, pulling the length of it over her shoulder and twisting it over the towel she'd brought with her from her shower. Much as she hated the idea of having been kidnapped for her own protection, she understood very well why Nick had done what he'd done. "I know." "Then work with me on this." Nick walked to her other side and sat down on the cushion next to her. She looked up, breath catching in her throat at his tone of voice. "You've thought of a way out for me?" "Maybe." Nick hesitated a moment. "There are some . . . things I have to work out. I might need your help. Will you trust me to do what I think is right, what I think might save your life?" Susan hesitated, suddenly fixed by that all-too earnest gaze. There were times she'd considered Nick arrogant, or selfish, or even downright thick, but she'd always known his heart was in the right place. He tried to do the best he could. Sometimes it didn't work out so well, but he try. "Yes," she answered, after a moment's pause. "I'll trust you." And even though Nick smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly, Susan was filled with a sudden sense of dread. Boy Talk By Ronni Katz Nick glanced back at the Enforcer's office and listened. No one but a *vampire* could have heard the faint sounds of Susan's typing and he *sensed* she was quite content...for the moment. She had her stories to keep her from getting bored. Nick was at a loss at what he could do to keep himself amused. Oh, sure, the Enforcer has a great collection of Cds - Nine Inch Nails, Sisters of Mercy, Skinny Puppy, Rosetta Stone - bands loved by many members of The Community but not exactly his cup of tea. Ron also had more action films on laserdisk than Blockbuster Video - also not exactly his favorite fare. Surfing the Internet was also out - The Enforcer was not letting anyone but himself get on the NET for security reasons and Nick was beginning to get just a little annoyed with Ron and his particular brand of security . He saw the Enforcer sitting at the dining room table bent over his subnotebook and was obviously hooked into America On-Line. "What are you doing?" Nick asked. "Seeing what everyone else is doing. Can t plan our next move until we see what our opposition has in mind." "Anything from Dorian?" "Nope. But his assistants are sure to get canned for losing Susan TWO times!" Ron replied grinning. "Hey, makes our job easier. Less opponents to beat down." "You STILL think we have a fight coming?" Ron looked at Nick, his eyes glowing gold. "Let's hope so." "You WANT trouble?" Nick challenged. "Why?" "Revenge." "For what?" "I don't intend to KILL Dorian, just make him feel as much pain as I did when I refused to be Interviewed." Nick's eyes widened. "You....refused?" "You think LaCroix is the only one who ever said no and lived?" Ron stated. "Boy, Susan WAS right about you! Only one clue and you re hanging onto it for dear life!" Nick was stunned. It was hard for The Enforcer to tell if it was from what he revealed about his own run in with Dorian or because of the line of Susan's he repeated. The Enforcer continued, "Look, this is like what happened in Toronto between me and LaCroix. It's personal. And I don't intend to do anything until AFTER Susan's Interview is over. I won't endanger her. This is just between me and the Archivist." "No, you intend to use Susan as a means to get to Dorian," Nick stated his own blue eyes going gold in anger. "Just like you used me to get to LaCroix!" "And, if that was true - which it isn t - there wouldn t be anything you could do to stop me." "Don't bet on it." Ron stood up to face Nick. Although the Enforcer was four inches shorter and about thirty pounds lighter than Nick, he knew he could take on Nick and win. Beating some sense into Nick was one thing - hurting him was another. Ron didn t want to hurt Nick - Susan would be MAJORLY pissed and, besides, Lavinia, the Ancient Ron was bound to, made The Enforcer swear that he would not kill (or do permanent injury to) Nick Knight. And, as annoyed as Ron was by these instructions, he could not disobey them, no matter HOW much he wanted to! "Nick, a clue for you. My fangs *are* bigger than yours, okay? So, go watch Jeopardy or something and leave me alone. I m trying REALLY HARD to behave myself. I promised my boss I wouldn t kill you, so don't piss me off and make me break my promise. All right?" "It was YOUR idea for us to come here." "Because it was the safest place for SUSAN, Ron said pointedly. You ve been a borderline pain in the ass since you got here! You don t like my movies, my music, my F*&king food! Not only that, but when I came back the other night with the Chinese food for Susan, you were looking at me like I was some sort of criminal! What the F*&k did I do? What is your problem?" "You were gone too long," Nick replied evenly. "I've seen how fast you move. It should not have taken you an hour to get takeout from a place four blocks away." "Yeah, well..." Ron shrugged chuckling softly to himself. His eyes were glittering with mischief as he replied, "Chinese sounded good so I decided to have some, too." Nick *knew* what he meant and in an eyeblink had Ron by the collar. "You bastard." "You *wimp*!" Nick's eyes went from gold to red and Ron's were equally crimson. When their gazes met, Nick was suddenly filled with an overwhelming *hunger* . He hadn't fed much - the leftover pig's blood was only enough for a day or so - and, although he hadn't been all that *hungry* - he had felt a twinge of appetite. However, *now* he was almost in a blood frenzy and the only food source he *sensed* - other than the vampyre in his grasp - was in the other room at the computer. Nick needed to feed *desperately*. He let go of The Enforcer and started to stagger towards the office.... Suddenly the *Hunger* was gone. All of it. Nick felt as though he had eaten and eated *well*. He was in control again. Nick whirled around to see The Enforcer looking quite *human* as he stood there quietly by the computer. "What was *that*?" Nick demanded. "A little trick Dragutin taught me. The Beast can be tamed, but not domesticated," Ron replied with a slight smile. "I know how to call upon it and how to make it sleep. Yours is resting now, Nick. But I can wake it up *anytime*. And, as you can see, you will be helpless once it is in control." "And I thought LaCroix was a fiend." "My dear brother is a *vampire*. As am I . As are *you*, much as you like to deny it. But, I won t do that to you again. It was just a....demonstration of my abilites and an incentive for you to see why we should be allies instead of opponents." "We are allies...for now," Nick said not letting down his guard for an instant. "But after this War is over...." "So is our truce," Ron finished for him. The Enforcer returned to his computer and Nick, not really wanting to be around Ron any more than he had to, went back into the living room to see what was on TV.... Passionate Interlude By Sandra Gray Nick leaned against the door of the Enforcer's home office and watched Susan typing rapidly on the computer. She paused and he said, "Writing is a passion for you, isn't it?" Susan was briefly startled, then said, "It's more than that. It's a compulsion, a...necessity." She paused, then added, "You must understand. You paint." Nick stepped into the room. "I paint for other reasons. To deal with..." He looked away from her. "Demons," he finished. Susan eyed him thoughtfully, saying nothing. He looked back at her and smiled slightly. "What are you working on?" "A vampire story," Susan replied. Nick frowned. "Oh, don't worry. It's not about what you told me in the motel. It's something else." Nick sighed. "It's that sort of fiction that's gotten you into trouble with Dorian in the first place." Susan looked at the computer screen. "Well, I don't see how I can get into any *more* trouble *now.*" Nick could feel her distress. He walked over and, squatting beside the chair, laid his hands over hers. "I won't let you come to harm. Neither will...Ron." Then, swallowing, he released her and left the room. After a few moments, Susan began typing again. Nick walked into the living room. Ron, seated on the couch, looked at him and said, "Nick, you sure you don't want something to drink?" "No, I'm fine," Nick replied absently. Ron probed the other vampire gently and briefly. It wasn't bloodlust that was concerning Nick. Well, maybe a bit on the fringes...but he had it in control. "What's she doing?" Nick looked at Ron. "Working on a vampire story." Ron sighed. Then he said, "Oh, well. At least it keeps her out of our hair, huh?" Nick didn't reply. "Don't sweat it, Nick. We can handle Dorian." "I'd like to avoid a battle with him." Ron got up and came to stand beside Nick, saying in a low voice, "Look, we've agreed that Susan has to stand for the Interview. When Dorian's off balance, that's when we eliminate him." "And someone else takes his place and goes after her," Nick said in a similar low tone. "Besides, the whole history of our kind is in Dorian's mind. Do you really want all of that to be lost?" "What other option do we have?" Nick didn't reply. He seemed lost in thought. Ron probed his mind carefully. He was remembering a conversation with a woman named Emily--something about why she wrote vampire stories. Then his thoughts drifted to embracing and kissing the woman. Ron was disappointed, but not surprised when Nick pulled away from "Emily" rather than give in to his desire to... Sighing, he stopped his probing and walked into the kitchen for a drink. Raven-ings By Jill Bradley As the Nat-pack entered the Raven, Jill regarded them over the rim of her glass. She was not about to disobey Janette and start any trouble, but wondered how far she would be able to push them. Jill sneered to herself. Nice was soooo booooring! This could be awfully entertaining. Catching Miklos' eye, she pointed to her now-empty glass. He refilled it without comment, and Jill shivered inside at his cold stare. She would like to try to warm him up, but unfortunately, that would not happen this visit. Janette would not appreciate one of her flock encouraging the bartender to take a forbidden sip or two. Idly, Jill wondered whether Janette was ever gone from the Raven for an extended period of time. Angel came over to help with introductions. As Tanaquil was introduced, a slight smile came over Jill's face. I remember you, she said politely. You worked here yourself, didn't you? She ignored Angel's elbow in her side. Behave! Angel hissed, then returned to Janette's side. Jill searched the room with her eyes, looking for a Ravenette who might join in some mild Nat-baiting. Shrugging, she wandered past the table where Natalie and Janette were apparently negotiating. After cautious evesdropping, Jill lit a cigarette and purposely leaned in to blow smoke towards Natalie. At Janette's glare, she backed away and tried to look invisible. Oh well, apparently Janette was serious about this cooperation stuff. Heading back to the bar, Jill began to consider Miklos again. Raven-ing Hordes By Jennie Hayes and Tara O'Shea Jennie smoothed the skirt of her converted bridesmaid's dress absently with one hand as she paused inside the Raven to let her eyes adjust to the light. As her eyes met Janette's she gravely nodded once, then stepped into a patch of shadow. Not that she felt safe from Janette's regard there either. It was amazing how bright the royal blue of her dress seemed just now, but Janette's attention snapped almost immediately away from her, to Tanaquil who'd entered behind her. The vampire turned to say something to the bartender. "At least the guy at the door called us `ladies'," Jennie gave Tanaquil a wry grin. Janette and Natalie appeared to be heading off for a more or less private conference, so Jennie ordered a Coke and looked around the bar. She spotted a familiar face and headed off toward that table. LJC was fingering her black crepe skirt, checking to make sure her hem hadn't gotten caught on her three and a half inch heels. The wine coloured long sleeved crepe blouse wasn't quite as fancy as Janette would have liked, in fact the whole outfit was downright plain compared to the other ravens, but LJ preferred simplicity, and she had been mostly ignored thus far, in any case. When she saw one of the NatPackers heading towards her, it took her a moment to recognise Jennie, but she smiled, far more genuinely than Janette would have liked. Amy had described Jennie well. Luckily, the Raven's proprietress was looking elsewhere at that moment. "Hi, Mom!" Jennie grinned. "I know it's war, but we're supposed to play nice for now - it's Jennie. Oh, the Chicago one, not the one who posts to L&C fairly often. Before you ask, I recognized you from the pictures a mutual acquaintance keeps showing me." "Hey, kid. Amy's told me so much about you, I feel like we've already met." LJC smiled. "I suppose I can't really call you kid, now can I?" "Only if you don't mind yet another person who's older than you calling you `Mom.' You're never gonna get rid of that name!" "Mindy's the one who started the Social Director of the Internet thing, how can I mind?" LJC pulled out a chair, and Jennie settled down across from her. "Anyhow, I thought it was safer to come talk to you than to sit there trying to stifle the urge to go investigate the back room." "I've been tempted myself, and even if I am one of the original Ravens, that wouldn't keep me from getting munched by one of the bouncers." Tara smiled wryly. "Around here, you're either considered a pet, or meat. I prefer the former to the latter, truth be told." "Well, I'm not suicidal, just curious. Professional hazard, I think!" Jennie laughed. "Can I get you anything in the way of a drink? Maybe something a little more sporting than a soft drink, perhaps?" LJC remembered Angel and Janette's instructions to make the NatPackers feel at home, and this was no real problem at all. It was going on the club's tab anyway. She waved Alma over. "Vodka and cranberry juice for me." Alma, reduced to vampire waitress, glowered at LJ, who ignored her. "Oh, I think a white russian would hit the spot." Alma glared some more, then flounced over to the bar. "She's just loving all this, isn't she?" Jennie watched Alma, her eyes betraying supressed mirth. "Poor Alma, reduced to serving mortals drinks. She may never get over the irony." LJC smiled. "So, are you liking our little war so far?" "Mm-hmm. The adrenalin rush is better than watching the X- Files alone in the dark!" "Oh?" "Well, I stole Janette's wardrobe last war and gave it to Nick to hold on to. I had *no* idea he would hang it in his garage! Anyhow, I wasn't sure I should show my face here after that, but...here I am." "Oh my..." LJ's eyes grew wide, and she laughed despite her affiliation. "No wonder clothes have become such an important subject this time around. I didn't bring much except my airplane clothes, and this. My suitcases are quite bare, nice Raven I make." LJ stirred her drink absently with the straw, her eyes wandering about the club. "I must admit, this meeting is going better than I thought it would, really." "Do you know what it's all about?" Jennie leaned forward, a conspiratory note in her voice. "I don't know that much about what's going on this time `round, I only just heard about Susan's problem and before today I hadn't heard of Dorian." "I'm being kept in the dark, I'm afraid. Just following orders, and waiting. Truth be told, it's a real bitch." Tara frowned, but then shrugged, fishing a cig out of her purse. "Feeling like a mushroom?" "I'm starting to," Tara sighed, and they clinked glasses. A Party Crasher By Windy L. Treese It was early evening in toronto when windy (me) started dressing for the big meeting at the raven. She had heard rumors of a big surprise and couldn't wait to find out what it was. She also knew that at the raven she would meet others of her faction. She had only known them from the lists but now she would actually get to meet them. As she left her room in the hotel she knew she was looking her best, her outfit perfect for both covert action and a night of clubbing, fashion and functionality (think I made it up) at once. Of course it was black. She apologized to Julian telling him she had to go out but she would tell Betsy that he was in toronto and waiting for her. Julian understood that windy had to go because, afterall, he was a good knightie and a beautiful cat. Windy got in the elevator and went to the garage to the car rented for her. As she walked to the driver's side she couldn't help but notice the large trunk on the car. *just in case* Windy knew she should wait for Perri and any other knighties in the hotel but she couldn't wait and she knew most of them would be there already anyway. After parking the car and walking into the raven the first person that Windy saw was her room-mate betsy. She walked over and asked, "so what's the surprize?" "Party! Janette and Natalie are going to arrange for all the factions to have a series of parties in New York at three different pubs. each vampire gets their own. Nick of course gets the Jeckyll and Hyde being that the blond brick was closed for renovation." And like the good spy that she was, Windy went and called Sandra and fed her the information and then went back to the bar and joined her fellow Ravenettes, relieved that her mission was finally over. Knocking About the Raven By Elizabeth L. Bales Elizabeth sighed quietly and leaned one elbow on the table. Looking around, she had to admit that Janette's new decor was... interesting. A giggle caught her attention, and she looked over to where one of Janette's pet pretty- boys was chatting up another NatPacker. She frowned, trying to remember the woman's name, and failed utterly. *Oh well.... I've always been terrible at that. Wonder if there's anything useful I could do?* "Excuse me," said a voice at her elbow. She turned to look up -- and gulped. *Wow, what a fox! But he's a Raven, probably trying to win over a NatPacker or two. That'd be Janette all over. Besides, you have an adorable boyfriend waiting at home....* "Yes?" Elizabeth was a bit startled herself at the degree of frostiness she managed to instill in her voice. The Raven slid into a chair next to her. "I wondered if I could buy you a drink," the young man -- *okay, let's be fair, the _gorgeous_ young man* -- said. He flashed a smile that had to measure in the kilowatt range and started to turn toward the bar without even waiting for her reply. It was that small motion that changed her mind. *Just a bit *sure* of ourselves, are we?* she thought acidly. "No, thank you," she said. He paused and then turned back toward her. "Ah. Well, all right. Would you--" "No, thank you. Excuse me, please." She rose from her chair and joined Tanaquil at her table, still peeved. Tanaquil took one look at her face, and her eyebrows rose. "You look annoyed, Elizabeth. What's wrong?" "I hate arrogant men," Elizabeth growled, and stole a sip of Tanaquil's drink. "Ugh, Tanaquil, this is disgusting! What the heck is it?" Tanaquil sighed. "It was *supposed* to be a Tequila Sunrise. The bartender is being original, I guess, or maybe Janette's still angry with me." Elizabeth giggled. "Good thing she doesn't seem to have figured out who left her all the kitty toys. I'd order a margarita and end up with who-knows-what. Here, I'll get you a drink. What'll you have?" Tanaquil laughed. "*Not* a Kermit's Left Testicle." Don't I Know You? By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy lazily strolled into the main room of thr Raven, nursing a glass of wine. It had been a long day, full of collecting what seemed to be useless and pointless knowlege fron the museum for Janette's benefit. Now she and the others were shooed out of the office so the boss could have a meeting with Dr. Lambert. Go out and mingle, and be nice to the Natpack, was Janette's orders. Well, Betsy could mingle with the best of them. She put on her friendliest smile and approached the nearest familiar(or at least as familiar as she got scrambilg around with everyone on the island in the summer) face. The woman was wearing a very stylish and practical dark blue dress, whose skirt went down to the floor. Betsy briefly wished they could trade outfits, because her own black silk sleeveless thigh-length dress, although gorgeous, was a bit drafty. Betsy introduced herself. "Hello there, dear. I think I recognize you from that fiasco on the island this summer. I'm Betsy. And you must be...?" "Betsy." The woman smiled and held out her hand. Betsy looked puzzled but shook it. "Yes, but what's your name?" she tried again. "Betsy." the woman said again, with more emphasis. "What?" "What, what?" "What is your name?" Betsy was getting a little annoyed. If all of Nat's frinds were this thick, what kind of help would she be? "My name is Betsy." The woman insisted. It finally dawned on Betsy what the lady was getting at. "Heavens to me (Well I couldn't say Heavens to Betsy, that would be silly), you must be Betsy Vera. I'm so sorry. I'm just not used to meeting someone with my name. It's only happened to me once before, and that was way back in high school." Embarassed, Betsy took a long sip of her drink. "Do you want one?" she offered. "No, thank you," Betsy Vera replied. "What I really want is to know what Nat and Janette are talking about." "We'll find out soon enough." Interlude By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC was deep in conversation when an unhappy Janette crooked a finger in her direction. Making her apologies, Tara slipped away from the table to where Janette held court at the bar. "What do you think you're doing?" the vampiress snarled. "Making nice, what, aren't I being nice enough for you?" "A little too nice, I think. Who is that?" "Jennie Hayes, a friend of mine if you must know. You have your flock, and I have mine. She hasn't attacked me, and I'm not going to attack her, so what's the harm in a little catching up?" Tara shrugged, trying to remain calm, and her eyes twinkled for a moment. "Think of me as Switzerland." "This is war, my dear, or have you forgotten you are supposed to be on your guard?" Janette frowned at her, but Tara refused to be cowed. This had been building ever since she got to Toronto, and her irish was up now. "You know, *my dear*, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me. I know I'm no Susan Garrett, but surely my fiction wasn't *uncomplimentary*, or is this about something other than telling stories?" "You need to learn your limits, little girl." She locked her hand around Tara's forearm in an almost painful. Almost. Just to show she could. "I know them fine, thank you. Something tells me I may not survive your lessons, if this is the way you intend to handle them." Tara's brown eyes flashed in the blue light, and her mouth was a grim line twisted into a wry smile as Janette released her. "I'm here because Angel asked me. I'm aware that *mere mortals* such as myself are of no consequence, but I expected a little more fellowship. Or perhaps you are simply distracted by something? Your grand plan that you don't see fit to share with your flock?" "I don't appreciate your tone." "Get used to it. I respect you, I even like you, though I doubt you believe that. But I won't be treated as a pawn forever, it doesn't suit me." "You weren't here in July, when I could have used you. You don't know what has gone before, so I will forgive you this little outburst. For now. But I've told you about playing with fire, and I am just as dangerous as Lacroix, for you. You may have come off too easily at the end of the first war, with him, but if it means saving you from yourself, then I will keep you in the dark." "The least you could give me is a torch to see my way." The words were bitter, all the anger at her situation forced into them. Janette's expression faltered for a moment. Tara saw it, and pressed her advantage. "You hate being manipulated just as much as I do. How can you expect me to sit by and take orders, when you know it is such a streach for me to play by the rules? I'm not blind, and I refuse to act as if I am." "All I am asking for is patience. I promise, it will be worth it." Janette stroaked Tara's cheek, smiling for a moment behind her mask. "It will." "It had better be." Tara sighed, all the tension leaving her, and she cracked a smile. "You make me so angry, you do know that?" "Yes." The vampire laughed, and then glided off into the throng once again. Miklos slipped over, an amused look in his eyes. "Not one word," Tara cautioned him, holding up her hand. Kindred Spirits By Jeff Carey Jeff glanced over as the meeting between the two factions ended and saw the participants heading towards him. Carefully extracting himself from the group of female NatPackers that had formed around him, he profusely apologized for his departure from their company and maneuvered to intercept Valerie. He had noticed her the moment that she had entered the Raven and had immediately recognized that some of her accessories (most notably the pentagram) were much more than the cheap costume jewelry that so many of his fellow goths wore. *How long has it been?* he thought as his mind raced back to his sophomore year, the only time he had actually had the pleasure of becoming aquainted with a `kindred spirit'. Sighing with nostalgia and regret he unconsiously grasped the talisman hanging from his neck and lifted it from under his silk shirt. Thinking a silent prayer to Bast he released the medallion (much to the annoyance of the vampires in the room for its power could now be felt much more acutely by them). He then walked up to Valerie and intoned "Greetings M'Lady" Valerie was shocked out of her blind furiousity at Janette by his formal use of that title in addressing her. Staring at him in surprise she quickly noticed the small engraved medallion that he unconsiously fingered in obvious nervousness at confronting her. "Greetings" she replied as she began to feel the same sense of a `kindred spirit' between them that had attracted him to her. "You practice the Craft?" She asked almost rhetorically as they moved to a private booth. "A variant M'Lady, I follow Bast" he replied with much trepidation evident in his voice, due to his general feeling of discomfort about allowing others to see past the shadows in which he usually cloaked himself. *Ahhh, that explains it* she thought *A pleasure goddess wouldn't care about one of its followers joining the Raven/ ettes. But still, this one has such a strong of balance, what could be behind his presence here* Aloud she merely said "How interesting" Jeff relaxed slightly as the danger of her mocking his admission passed yet he noticed that Nat had noticed Val's absence and was headed in their direction "I believe your friend is eager to leave, perhaps we can continue this another time?" "I would be delighted" she replied as they both stood and he kissed her hand in farewell "Until our paths cross again" he intoned as Nat walked up to them. "We really should be leaving" Nat said pointedly. "I suppose so" Val replied to her then turned back to Jeff "Perhaps that will be sooner than you suspect?" "I hope so M'Lady, goodbye and good fortune to you both" he said before they went their separate ways. He could almost hear Nat asking "Now just what was that all about?" and Valerie's reply of "Ohhh, nothing" Jeff headed for the bar but was met there by Janette who remarked "You did well with the NatPackers during the meeting from what I hear, however, I would choose my personal interests better if I were you..." "Why, whatever so you mean mistress?" he replied innocently. "You know exactly what I mean!" she answered him irritatedly, pointing at the retreating figure of Valerie as she reached the door and passed through it out into the night "That one has drawn much unwanted attention to herself and she may not even realize it yet. You would be well advised to keep your distance." Jeff looked at her skeptically and replied "And just when has a member of our group ever been so cautious as to not follow its heart?" Janette momentarily thought of ripping out his throat but was held off by the remembrance of what would happen if she tried. Eyeing the medallion angrily she left him to contemplate her words in peace. The Trouble with Angels By Sharon Himmanen Once she'd finished scoping out just who was still left in the club, Sharon moved to join her friends who had managed to find a table toward the back of the club. As she moved through the gathering crowd, however, she saw Janette's lackey, the one called Angel, suddenly detach herself from the arm of another extremely good looking guy and hurry across the floor. Out of curiosity, Sharon slowed her steps and watched as Angel moved up to Janette, holding up a lighter and lighting her cigarette. The two exchanged a few brief words, at the end of which they both turned to look meaningfully in her direction. "Here it comes," Sharon said aloud, shaking her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Angel slightly tilt her head, although she couldn't be sure. What she was sure of, though, was that she was suddenly surrounded by a fair number of bodies, most of them Ravenettes, who seemed to take great delight in jostling her about. It wasn't quite a slam- dance pit, but something akin to it, more controlled and deliberate and it was all she could do to rescue her Guinness after nearly spilling it twice. But, with a little bit of determined pushing and shoving on her part she nearly made it to the edge, only to be cut off and forced back toward the center of the floor. The number of people had noticeably increased, and Sharon had decided that it was nearly time to get rough when she felt a hand grasp her elbow. Angel was standing beside her. "Let me," she mouthed, not bothering to speak the words aloud above the roar of the music. Then she deftly guided Sharon toward a table on the opposite side of the club from where her friends sat. The crowd, while not exactly parting to leave a clear path, gave them little trouble as they moved off the dance floor and into the one of the little alcoves that had sound insulated tiles to allow some form of conversation above the din. Sharon smiled sharply at Angel. "Not a bad trick," she said, a slight edge of accusation in her voice. "I've seen that done to yuppies when they try to be cool and slam dance." Angel smiled back, blinking innocently. "You just looked like you were having a little bit of trouble out there, that's all." "Mmmm," Sharon said, nodding and taking a seat. For the first time she took a good look at Angel as the other woman sat down opposite her. She reminded Sharon of Jemitha Soles, a friend from her childhood who had definitely lived, and dressed, to the beat of a different drummer, looking goth long before it was ever popular. Angel was a bit shorter than Sharon although the three inch heels were meant to make you think otherwise. She was younger too, with blond hair streaked purple, pale skin and dark lipstick. And her clothes! Sharon had thought living in New York for the last several years would have prepared her, but . . . "Janette thinks it would be a good idea if we talked, made some plans." Sharon leaned back. "And of course you do everything that Janette says," she replied evenly. It was a cheap shot and they both knew it, but she had to do something to make up for the dance floor fiasco. Angel simply continued to smile at her, letting the slight pass. It was a little unnerving, the silence and that smile. To cover she took another sip of her beer. "All right," she said, finally. "What kind of plans?" "Oh, I don't know," Angel said airily. "I'm certain that you and your friends are very good at all those tedious details, what with being used to dealing with public servants, filling out forms in triplicate, and all that." Sharon laughed slightly, tightly. "Gee, and to think I could be running around being a human cigarette lighter. I guess I just don't know what I'm missing," she said sarcastically. "Look, lets cut to the chase instead of sitting here snipeing at each other, OK?" "Whatever you say," Angel said, a slight sharpness in her tone the only indication that Sharon's comment had struck home. And that unnerving smile was back. "There are a number of arrangements to be made. Decorations, invitations or enticements, that sort of thing." Before continuing, Angel glanced across the room. Sharon followed her gaze and saw Janette, still in conversation with a young man, abruptly snap her fingers. Angel suddenly rose. "But not tonight." "OK," Sharon said, taking another sip. "Where and when?" "Tomorrow. Eleven o'clock?" Angel said, glancing in Janette's direction again. "That's fine," Sharon said. "Where?" Angel started to move away from the table, saying hastily, "I'll meet you outside the club. Now if you'll excuse me." She moved a few more steps away from the table. "Angel?" Sharon called after her, a smile of her own on her face. When the other woman paused she said "I've kept you. I'm terribly sorry." The tone of her voice suggested that she was anything but sorry. "You know, you can always come to us if things get . . . difficult with Janette." Sharon's voice held a note of sincerity that surprised even her. Angel whirled, Janette momentarily forgotten as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. Still smiling, Sharon raised her eyebrows and pointed deliberately in Janette's direction. Setting her lips in a grim line, Angel spun around, and stalked off toward Janette. Sharon took another sip of her beer, smiling to herself. Rumblings in the Undergrowth By Valerie Meachum *Well, that was different,* Valerie thought as Jeff retreated through the small crowd. She was accustomed to being addressed so formally on occasion by pagan acquaintances, but hadn't expected it in this setting. She wasn't sure why--after all, she supposed one was at least as likely to find such behaviour around vampires as anywhere. But why had he approached her--and more importantly, what could be accomplished by the contact? She had hoped and worked for improved NatPack/Raven relations since the last war--could this be a key? "I don't get it," she said aloud into the silence, the "seven-minute lull" striking the group. "Why the heck did she drag us all here just to arrange to get together at the party? Couldn't that have been arranged long-distance?" "You think there was another purpose?" Nat asked. "Maybe. Not to distract us from Susan, I don't think. Except that it did prevent or at least delay a couple of us going after her." "Maybe that's just as well," Sharon put in. "Sounds like she knows something about this we don't." "As usual," Valerie snorted. "ANyone else *really* uncomfortable with that?") "I am," Natalie confirmed. "That's why I insisted on being in on the `leaders' meeting'. I'm getting really tired of the `no mortals allowed' garbage." There was a general murmur of agreement as they all prepared to pile into vehicles and depart. "Anybody need crash space?" Nat inquired. "I don't have a lot, but I don't want anyone falling asleep at the wheel either." "I have...plans," Valerie volunteered. "And then I have to be back in Columbus tomorrow for my show. I guess I'll see you Monday." She took her leave of her compatriots, and as soon as she was around the corner from them Dragutin appeared from nowhere at her side. "You heard what went on, I take it?" she asked. "Yes. And I don't like the smell of it." "Well, I don't think anyone asked you," she reminded him irritably. "In fact, I don't seem to remember you being invited. So maybe you'd better be at least as forthcoming as Janette. I assume thatn's not *too* much to ask, allt hings considered." "Indeed." The vampire-mage studied her for a moment. "Very well." NatPack Night Out By Sharon Himmanen "That's odd," Natalie said, staring after Valerie with a frown. "What do you make of that?" Sharon shrugged. "Valerie being Valerie?" she said brightly. "I don't know. But, she *does* have a point," she added with a sidelong glance at Natalie. "This all seemed a bit too `hurry up and wait.' Think this whole party thing is some kind of bluff, or a smokescreen, or something?" "I'm sure it is," Natalie said. "But we have to play along, for now. It's the only way we're going to get any answers." "Don't be so sure of that," Tanaquil said. "Janette was behind that whole stink in July, remember? And we all played along until it was almost too late." "Just to cover up Laurie's defection, I know," Natalie said in a weary voice as she walked over to the driver's side of her car. "And, this whole thing with Dorian, and you being bait. Nat, I don't like it," Jennie added. Natalie was momentarily taken aback, but recovered herself quickly. She glared at them. "Well, if anyone's got a better idea, now's the time for it." She waited for several minutes before yanking her car door open. "Thought so," she said, sliding in behind the wheel. The others started to pile in behind her, except for Sharon, who leaned down into the open passanger side and spoke. "I think I'm going to stay," she said. "Hang out." Natalie stared at her. "Are you sure?" "Yeah," Sharon said, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. We *do* have a guarded truce with them right now and I've *always* wanted to check this place out." Natalie still looked hesitant, but before she could speak, Tanaquil spoke up. "Want some company?" she asked. "From Miss Popularity?" Sharon teased. "Sure." A few more from their group decided to join them, so Natalie handed her a spare set of keys to her apartment. "Now remember," she admonished mockingly. "It's a school night." But then her expression grew serious. "I mean it. Be careful." "Yes, Mom,"" Sharon said, pocketing the keys. "One more thing. Maybe you should try to talk to that Ravenette. You know, theone doing the butler routine with Janette during the meeting." "I think her name is Angel," Elizabeth said. "Because since I'm in New York I'm going to have to coordinate things at that end with Janette's people?" "You got it. Have fun, and don't take any of their crap." Then she paused and looked up at her. "On second thought, I take that back! I don't wanna have to come down and bail you out of jail or something tonight!" "Not going to happen," Sharon assured her. "Remind me to tell you about my trip to Seattle sometime. We'll see you later." They stood on the sidewalk fora few minutes watching her drive away, then turned and headed for the front entrance of the Raven. The bouncer smiled at them again, and again held the door. It was later in the evening, and the crowd was starting to pick up, although the dance floor was still fairly clear. She saw Janette tilt her head in their direction as they entered, then turned and said something to the bartender, who glaced coldly up at them. The others went to find a table, while Sharon moved toward the bar and ordered a beer. As she pulled out a few bills, a white hand pushed her arm gently aside. "Your money's no good here. At least, for the time being." Janette said. "So, you've decided to come back and play, have you?" Sharon merely nodded. "I thought you might." As Miklos placed her beer in front of her Janette raised her glass in a salute before moving away toward an extremely good looking man who had just entered. Sharon stood for a moment watching her go, before picking up her beer and casting a quick look around the club for whatever Ravens or Ravenettes might still be hanging around. And there were quite a few, including Angel. Ruffling Ravenette Feathers By Sandra Gray I dialed the number of the hotel in Toronto where the Knighties were staying. "Hello?" came a female voice. "That you Perri?" I asked. "It's Sandra." "Oh, hi Sandra," she said breathlessly. "Yeah, it's me." "The meeting still going on at the Raven?" "I guess. The Ravenettes here in the hotel all left a while ago and none of them have come back." "Good. Did you get the stuff we were discussing?" Perri laughed. "Yeah. No problem. Amy and I are ready. In fact, we've got a little something extra planned too." She explained. It was a minor added irritation. "Okay. Might be good for you all to check out and move to another hotel afterwards though. I don't think they're going to be very happy when they see what's been done." "The cleaning bill will be outrageous. But it's worth it after their unprovoked attacks and spying." She chuckled again and added, "I gotta go." "Okay. Keep in touch." "Okay. Bye." "Bye." I hung up the phone and smiled. I wished I could be there to see the Ravenettes' faces when they got back to their rooms. The mental image of black feathers glued to all their precious outfits made me snicker. And the notes which would be left that read: We thought you all should look like the little ravens you are. The Knighties Yep. The best revenge was to hit them where it hurt the most--their fashion sense. Difficult Call By Jennie Hayes Jennie sighed in exasperation, looking from one hand to another. She really needed to get some sleep, she was making dumb mistakes again. Her left hand held a pipet full of liquid, and she couldn't put it down to get the cap off the vial she was trying to put it in. Making a face, she contorted her fingers around the vial and managed to screw the top off with just the one hand. Thank goodness this was the last sample she had to prep for this run. She loaded the sample and listened to the familiar rhythm of the autosampler clicking as it started the analysis while she logged into her VAX account. She looked furtively around the lab, but somehow, everyone had miraculously gone home on time tonight, and she could access her account freely. She'd spent the day mulling over a startling message she'd gotten from Natalie. It sounded like things were *definitely* getting out of hand. Still, going to Toronto, especially to the Raven, didn't seem like the best idea right now. True, she'd taken care of the drycleaning bill for Janette's wardrobe with the company credit card (that little accident' with the dye analysis demonstration had barely held water when the accounting department had gone over her expenses) but she wasn't sure it was a good idea to show her face in Janette's presence just yet... On the other hand, Natalie needed her, and she *hated* letting her fear win. Before she could change her mind *again*, she left messages for her supervisor explaining her sudden departure (she hoped), sent a brief message to Natalie to expect her that night, and headed home to pack. By Proxy By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC couldn't believe she was still logged in. She looked up to see Angel standing before her, a devilish gleam in her eyes. "Lorilei is occupied for the moment, how would you like to take care of Perri?" "AS if you have to ask... I know exactly what to do." LJC admitted she had been thinking on this for quite some time, and she had a very particular little scehem in mind. "I need you to create a diversion, tho." "No problem," Angel loved this, and Miklos brought over a telephone. "Okay, call the Daily Trojan, and ask for Kim. I need her away from her terminal in case she's logged on, which she almost always is." "Okay," Angel dialled the LA number LJC had scribbled down on one of the red napkins. When the newsroom came on the line, she signalled to LJC, who had her fingers paused over the keyboard. "Hi, can I speak to Kim SMith, please? It's about an editorial..." Angel started improvising, and LJC started tapping madly away, waiting, and then finally wved the all clear. Angel wrapped up the conversation, and came around to see what was on LJ's screen. "What did you do?" "Just a minor annoyance really, but enough I think to pay her back. Okay, first I kicked her off loiscla. If you've never seen Perri with Lois and Clark Withdrawl Sysdrome, then you haven't *lived*. Oh, and it's brilliant, for once trearn didn't take days to get the listserv commands processed. So, a copy of the "you have been deleted" message got sent to her account, right? But you had her on the phone, so she couldn't resub, and now she *can't*." LJC stiffled a giggle, picturing a hopping mad Perri once she saw the listserv message in her box. Oh, the phone calls she was going to get over this one... "What do you mean?" "I was reminded of when Sandye first started the Blackadder list. See, if you get a list of the people subbed with a `get' command, instead of a `rev loiscla', it'll lock the list. No one can come or go, not until it's unlocked. And I'm the only person who can do that." "So she's stuck?" "Yep. And she can't post to the list asking for help even. Come Sunday, she is going to be *crazy* starved for Loiscla mail! Imagine what life would be like if you lost all contact with forkni-l right in the middle of something, wouldn't you be spitting mad?" "You're evil. But she's still subbed to forkni-l, couldn't you get her off that too, just to be evil?" Angel had to admit, it was hitting Perri where she lived, so to speak. Not terribly catastrophic, but clever in its own way. She approved. "I'm not listowner, however..." LJC chewed on her fingernail. "I kinda sorta had Chuck Rhee, one of my friends from way back, break into Laurie's account and do the same thing there. It'll get corrected to quick tho, what with the truce." She shrugged, wishing she could give a better answer. And it bothered her, getting involved with a Cousin who hadn't actually done anything to her yet, but it was the only way she could think of to get the job done, and hopefully it wouldn't bring the wrath of the cousins down on her just yet. Hopefully. "Hey, even a day or two without mail will be torment enough." Angel patted LJ's shoulder. "So you'll think Lorilei would approve?" "Oh yes." Angel smiled, and they clinked glasses and sat back to watch the reactions. "You think so? I mean, I may be Mom at tara@hydra.unm.edu, but this is war." ------- CHAPTER 14 Thursday, October 27, 1994 Dawn Meets Up With Schanke By L. Dawn Steele It was past midnight and Dawn didn't see any hope of getting to bed anytime soon. The bus ride to Toronto had been relatively quiet, and she had spent the remaining daylight hours in the afternoon doing some reasearch at various libraries across town. She had planned on getting to the precinct shortly after the night shift started but it had taken her quite a bit of time to find the new station that Nick at Schanke were now at. The front of the building was magnificent though and she wished she was there in the daytime, so she could take a picture. Dawn had managed to get past the front desk by claiming she had information about the death of Ruth Dempsey. Now here she was, waiting for Nick to show up. Maybe she could get a bit of information out of him. As one of the officers on the scence he would be able to tell her if there was anything suspicious. The details in the Toronto Star had been sadly lacking. She knew police officers weren't supposed to give out information like that, but all she wanted to know was whether it had been war related. *So here I am. I look like a refuge from insomniacs annonymous. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. I'm not really thinking straight. * Dawn started to rummage through her bag. There was always a couple of Journal papers in there to read. *I wonder where Nick is? Oh sh*t! I bet he's taken time off from the war! Now look what you've gotten yourself into.* Just then a familiar looking figure strolled into the room with his hands in his pockets. He came over to the desk and didn't waste any time starting a conversation. "Hi! I'm Detective Schanke... Wait a minute? Have me met somewhere before?" "Good morning Detective. Yes we have. I'm Dawn Steele. I managed to get your autograph this past summer during that tv shooting fiasco." "The officer at the front desk said you have some information you wanted to give Nick about the suicide at the Royal York Hotel. Nick has taken some time off, so I've been handling the cases myself." "I'm afraid I really can't tell you all that much Detective. I received some email recently from her, telling me that she'd be in Toronto. When I heard about her suicide I thought I should check it out. I've never met her in person you know. You get to know people through email and I thought since she was in the area she'd contact me." "Would you be able to verify this?" "I'm sorry. You know how it is with small accounts. Anything that isn't super-relevant gets deleted immediately. I didn't get the impression that she was going to kill herself though. Are you sure it was suicide?" "That's the assumption we're working on. She left behind some peotry that pretty much spells it out." "I'm afraid that I'm wasting your time then. Perhaps I can make it up to you somehow." Dawn picked up her (immense) bag and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. The glass container was filled with an orange-brown pastelike mixture. "Here. Take this." "Ummm... What is it?" "It's a tomato and bean dip. I've been experimenting lately with various kinds. It's quite delicious with nachos. I was taking it to a friend as a peace offering, but I've still got another bottle in the bag." "Ah, well... thank you." "No problem. I know that the Canadian police doesn't get the recognition they deserve sometime. It's not too spicy if that's what you're worried about. I'm afraid it does have quite a bit of raw garlic mixed in though." "That's okay. Nick isn't around to hassle me about it. Would you like me to see you out?" "I think I can find my way. I'm sorry I couldn't help you more." Five minutes after Dawn's exit, Schanke went over to MacLarens desk and surreptuously opened the bottom drawer. He took out the bag of nachos that was hidden there and went back to his desk. "Hey! This is pretty good!" Meanwhile. A lone Die-Hard had chosen to spend some of her cash on a taxi rather than trying to brave the public transportation service at that hour. Especially since she'd never been to her destination before. "Where to miss?" "Alexander St. please." *I hope Tracy got my email. I don't want to wake her up out of a deep sleep when she's not even expecting me. Especially since she recently became a cousing. Surely our old friendship would stop her from attacking me. Wouldn't it?...* Dawn leaned back into the taxi seat. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up on her. *Hopefully Schanke is safe now. The FoD's probably already have him under protection, but the spells I cast on that bean dip should help out. The garlic probably won't hurt either.* It's Not Casper By Ruth Dempsey The giggling unkindness of Ravenettes had gathered in one room to trade war stories and plot dirty deeds to be done dirt cheap. "Hey," said Angel. "Who turned on the air conditioning?" No one had, yet the room became colder and colder. Tara suddenly sat up with a shriek as a white figure rose from the carpet. It had the appearence of a small, stocky woman in a billowing white gown. Pale lips moved soundlessly as she reached out her hands toward them. "Is this some kind of joke?" demanded Angel. "I hate to burst your bubble, lady, but you look like you should have a roll of toilet paper under that skirt.' The figure abruptly lowered its arms. Ravenettes squealed and dove for cover as every piece of glass in the room shattered and a massive whirlwind sent furniture tumbling. "Smart move, Angel," shouted Lorelei from under the bed. "Now you've made it mad.'" The whirlwind stopped and the figure solidified into a small, stocky, dark-haired woman wearing normal clothes. The left side of her head boasted a neat, round gunshot hole and the right side was an explosion of blood, bone and brains. There were chokes and gags at her forming, but the stampede came when her right eyeball fell out and rolled across the floor. Ravenettes who were not retching saw her melt into the rug. Frost letters glittered briefly on the shag pile. PEACE BEFORE ITS TOO LATE "Too late for what?" asked Angel. "I don't think I want to know," Tara moaned. Best Served Cold By Tara "LJC" O'Shea Tara shivered as she made her way back to her room. The last time she had seen Ruth, it had been in an elavator in Novi, MI almost two and a half years earlier. Frankly, Ruth had looked much better alive than dead. And the loss to the RoS community would be shattering... Still groggy from spending all night at The Raven, playing nice, or not so nice as he case may be, LJC yawned and was about to fall into bed when another shriek split the air. She ran back to Angel's room to find the place crowded as Angel held up a velvet gown encrusted with feathers. "I want to get *even*." Angel seethed, and Tara tapped the nearest raven's shoulder, mouthing *who?* "The Knighties," Risha replied. "They got me too." Various ravens began rushing back to their rooms to inspect their closets, and Tara didn't bother. Not knowing what importance Janette was placing on clothes this time around, she had brought one evening outfit, which she was still wearing, and her airplane clothes, which were at the dry cleaners across the street from the hotel. She had nothing in the suit for the Knighties to tar and feather, but an injustice done to one, or all, mereited a special revenge. Tara's eyes lit up with devilish glee as she leaned over and whispered in Angel's ear an idea for a suitable revenge for the Knighties over-reaction... "I like it. I like it *a lot*." Angel smiled, and one by one the other ravens started whispering amongst themselves, and nodding. Plucking Feathers By Simone "Angel" Morgan "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkk!" The scream tore through the silence of the hotel. Patrons on the next several floors were startled from their slumber. The Ravens and Ravenettes rushed into Angel's hotel suite, afraid of what they would find. The sight that greeted them was not a pretty one. Angel, her dress still held aloft, ready to be returned to its hanger, was frozen before her closet. Her eyes were as large as bowling balls, and she looked as if she might scream again. Jeff rushed to her side. "M'lady Angel, what has happ..." He stopped mid sentance when he noticed the cause of her distress. Her clothing was still black, but there was something terribly wrong. Lorelei approached the open closet. "Are those...feathers?" Angel walked to her suitcase and opened it tenatively. It was the same. Her garter belts, stockings, even her hair combs, were covered in little black feathers. Then she spied her boots... She slumped down on the bed, mumbling incoherently. Rob looked puzzled. "Who would do this?" He picked up the note attached to Angel's beloved velvet gown. "The Knighties?!?" When Angel heard who her "benefactors" were, an uncharacteristic look of rage passed over her features. "The KNIGHTIES?" she ground out from between clenched teeth. "They did this over a couple of fuzzy *bricks*?!? Do you know how many *years* it took me to find these clothes? It's not like I bought them at JC Penney!" Betsy decided to intervene before Angel lost her tenative grip on sanity. "Don't worry about it. Janette will buy you new clothes. And her tailors can make you anything you want. It'll be fun." Just then, Risha burst into the room. "My clothes! You'll never believe what they did to..." She looked at Angel's mangled wardrobe. "They got everybody?" Panicked looks passed around the room, and people hurriedly retreated to their own closets. Just then, Angel looked up at Risha and grinned evilly. "Betsy's right. I need new stuff, and this is the perfect excuse to get it. But first, revenge..." A Ravenette's Story By Karen Knight Karen looked at her wardrobe - someone had glued feathers to all of her clothes. "I'm going to have to trash these things. Well, maybe not the undies - Jean Paul would like them like that." A smile formed on her lips - this could mean only one thing - Shopping Spree! She phoned the others to let them know she'd be out of touch for awhile - the last a major shopping spree happened, Karen was missing for three days! She joyously readied herself for the adventure. Attacks and Truces By Perri Smith Perri closed her door, almost slamming it, and gave into the giggles that had been doubling her over. She and Amy clung to each other and tried to stay on their feet. The screaming from the Raven/ettes had been music to their ears - finally, they were getting a little of their own back! "You don't think it was too much?" Amy gasped out. Perri tried to consider it, but gave up. "No, I think it was just right!" she finally said, giving in to the giggles again. "The melted Raisenettes in their pockets, now *that* might have been too much!" "Sweets to the sweet!" Amy cackled hysterically The laughter was only partly from gloating. The actual trips into the Raven/ette's rooms, picking the locks and jumping at every sound, had been something between scary and terrifying. "Thank God for brothers," Perri had commented at one point, as she sweated over a stubborn lock." If he hadn't gotten that lock on his door when he was 15, I never would have gotten so good at this." It had taken ten *big* bottles of glue and a gallon tub of chocolate-covered raisens to do it, but the reactions of the Raven/ettes, overheard as they crouched around the corners, had been worth every second! It was several minutes before they got control again, enough to actually speak. "I'm so glad I got here in time to help with this," Amy said. "Yeah, me too. I would have hated to do this alone." Perri yawned loudly. "We'd better get some sleep. They're going to be gunning for us tomorrow. Do you want to stay here?" she offered. "No, I'm right next door." "Make sure you lock your door," Perri warned. "Believe me, I will!" Perri watched her new friend leave, then sat on her bed and reached for the phone. Abby wouldn't be happy about getting woken up, but it was important. "Abby, it's me." To her surprise, her friend was wide awake. "I've been waiting for you to call for hours," Abby said breathlessly. "Something's happened to your e-mail account for Lois and Clark!" "My account?" Perri felt her chest contract with fear. "What happened?" "You got unsubscribed! I've been trying to put you back on, but the listserv is locked or something - it won't accept the message. And your Forever Knight list has gone down, too!" Perri felt the first thread of panic creeping up her spine. No LoisCla...what could have happened? Had the server gone down? If it had, why hadn't Mom... done...something....? It hit her. "That low-down, treacherous, two-faced....!" she sputtered helplessly. "She took away my account!" "Who?" Abby asked, bewildered. "Lady Johanna Constantine, otherwide known as Mom! I knew she would get pretty low, but this is going too far!" Perri started pacing, only to be pulled back abruptly by the phone cord. The jerk puled her back on the bed and this time she stayed there, thinking hard. "O.K. I need you to do me another favor. Send an e-mail to Lynn, he's also on the list. Ask him to forward me all of the posts he gets from the server. If anything happens to his account, tell him to talk to O'Dette - even LJC won't mess with her!" Abby promised to do it, and Perri hung up. "Crisis averted," she sighed, but she knew it wasn't over. Getting off the bed, she rummaged through her suitcase to find suitable attire. So much for staying away from The Raven - it was time to take this face-to-face. *** Perri entered The Raven with a certain amount of caution. She wasn't known here, but there was no reason to believe she was safe. As she had suspected, the meeting between the NatPackers and the Raven/ettes has wound down to practically nothing - only a few people were left. She spotted a gorgeous brunnette in one corner, purring over a gorgeous guy - that just had to be Janette. She gave that corner a *very* wide berth. She had other business here. She saw the small woman, about her own age, sitting in the opposite corner. Like a good Ravenette, she was dressed in black and wine, but she fit the description. Perri walked over to her. "LJC, I presume." LJC looked up from the drink she had been nursing for most of the night. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized Perri's voice. She took a drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Hallo, Perri. I wasn't expecting you." "Yeah, I know. But you know me, I can't stay away from the action." "Maybe we should change your nickname from Perri to Lois." Her brown eyes sparkled with repressed laughter. "How did you know about the meeting?" "The Knighties aren't totally out of it." Perri took a seat without being asked, looking around the club. "You know, this place is exactly the way I had it pictured." "Glad you approve. How long have you been in Toronto?" "Since early Wednesday morning," Perri answered. "That long?" LJC's voice was more or less blank, but there was surprise in her eyes. "Yeah. You know, it's funny, but someone called my paper looking for me yesterday. Wound up talking to a friend thinking she was me. Silly, isn't it?" "Yes, that is odd," LJC answered, disappointment replacing the puzzlement. Perri decided to stop being subtle - it never had been her style. "Don't worry, *Mom*, I know what you did to my account. But it's O.K." LJC lifted an eyebrow at her. *Oh really?* Perri smiled with more than a trace of smugness. "Lynn's going to forward me everything he gets. So you don't have to feel guilty about letting me die of Lois and Clark Withdrawal Syndrome." LJC smiled at her with a tip of the head. "Nicely done." "Thanks," Perri grinned back. "I still don't know what I'm going to do about the Forever Knight list. How did you manage to get me off that one?" "I called in a favor." "Does Cousin Laurie know about that favor?" "I have no idea." LJC shrugged, slipping a cig from her purse and lighting it, blowing the smoke above their heads. "Depends on if she's checked on her list." Perri half-laughed, shaking her head. "You're evil, Lady." "Thanks." She accepted the compliment with another tip of her head. Their eyes met in mutual understanding. "No hard feelings?" LJC asked. Perri's grey eyes met hers, smiling. "All's fair." They shook on it, then Perri added, with her own touch of evil, "You do realize, of course, that this still means war?" "I wouldn't have it any other way," LJC said. They both laughed, then got down to the serious business of gossiping. No Pain, No Gain: A Tale of Well Deserved Revenge By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC was starting to get quite a headache. It had sounded so simple in the hotel room, but was beginning to get complicated. Still, she had promised Angel something swift and devastating. Renting the vans had been a snap. Likewise the airfare from Atlanta to Charlottesville (being an Air South founding stockholder had its advantages after all), and ATL to LAX and Dallas/Ft. Worth. Getting Dave Deitrich to risk his precious equipment was another matter entirely, but some careful bribery, and that too fell into place. Now all she had to do was sit back and wait. *** "I'm here to read the meter, ma'am." The large, yet non- threatening man in grey shirt with "Dave" stitched over the pocket, and generic polyester slacks looked a bit bored. Sandra opened the door only as far as the chain would allow, suddenly wishing with all her heart Bruce were home. "She didn't send you, did she?" "She who, ma'am?" "*Her*. LJC." Ever since reading about how well the feathers had gone over (badly) Sandra had been jumping at every sound, wondering if perhaps the Knighties had gone a bit too far. "Lady, I'm just trying to do my job." He pleaded with her, looking tired, and she could see the power company van over his shoulder, parked at the curb. "I don't know who El-Jaye-Cee is, but I have a quota for today, and if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to be home in time for supper." "I guess... I'm sorry, I'm just a little paranoid, what with Hallowe'en being so close. Worried that crazy friends might be trying to pull something over on me." Sandra smiled. "The meter is around the side, go ahead. I'm sorry I kept you." "S'okay, ma'am. We've just been getting-- "--Some odd readings in your area," the woman in the green jumpsuit tried to look relieved. The land-lady for he apartment complex, however, just looked bored. She wasn't crazy about Kim Smith's hours, coming in all hours of the night from working at that newspaper of hers, waking her up. "Smith's apartment is on the first floor, her meter is marked. I don't know why you had to knock on my door to check first." "Just following procedure, ma'am. Sorry--" "--to have troubled you," the young man tipped an imaginary cap to Mrs. Denton, and headed out back. While pretending to read the gas meter, he slipped a slim cellular phone out of his work shirt pocket and hit redial. "LJ?" "Here, Chuck." LJC leaned against the wall of her hotel room, looking out at the afternoon sky, a rich deep blue that she had missed in New Mexico, where they sky always looked too low, trying to massage her headache away. "I'm in position." "Go ahead." She hung up the phone, and wandered over to the bar to get a glass for water to wash down the aspirins. In Texas, Virginia, and California simultaneously the power seemed to go out for approximately 15 seconds in only three households. *** Sandra's eyes went wide, and at the knock on the door, she almost jumped. "Sorry ma'am, that's just the sort of thing we're supposed to prevent. I hope it didn't inconvenience you any." "I'll just need to rest the vcr clock, no harm done," she managed a smile, and shut the door in his face. Walking over to the vcr, now angrily flashing 12:00 at her, she turned it on to hit on screen programming, and once that was done, pressed play to see if her FK tape had backtracked, and she would have to re-cue it for the new episode. She was greeted with static. *** Abby flopped down on Perri's couch, and frowned at the flashing digital display on her vcr. Since the earthquake, tho, short power outages had become normal, though she would have thought by now she'd seen the last of them. When Perri asked her to apartment sit, on account of her practically non-existent roommate never being around, the there being Ravens on the loose, she had wandered at her friends's sanity, but agreed anyway. Decided now was as good a time as any to finally check out this Forever Knight show that Kim was always talking about, she grabbed one of the tapes off the top of the tv and popped it in. When she was greeted by a solid blue screen, she figured that tape mustn't have been used yet, so she took one of the Lois and Clark ones from last season, and stuck it in. Nothing. Puzzled, Abby shrugged, sure there was some kind of rational explanation, and dialled up the hotel room number Perri had left her. "Hey, do you have any movies around here I can watch?" "Sure, there are some tapes on top the tv." "They're all blank." Abby was puzzled, as she popped tape after tape into the vcr. Glancing down that the answering machine, she noticed it too was blinking rapidly, and she hit the play button, but nothing happened. "Even your--" "--answering machine tape is blank." Amy's mom said into the receiver. "It's very odd. There was a short power outage this afternoon, but that nice young man from the power company said this was a problem they were having in the area. There weren't any storms or anything--" "Mom," Amy swallowed nervously, glancing at her watch. "Turn on the computer, I need you to check my mail for me, to see if anything's happened." "Well, I'm trying, dear, but it just says `error'. Is that normal?" "Oh jeez, not my hard drive too! This can't be--" "--happening!" Sandra whispered, hitting the space bar over and over, hoping for some kind of response. The phone rang, and she picked it up, still staring at the screen. Perri had just hung up, and almost assumed Abby was calling her back with yet another disaster. "Fuzzy bricks aren't that bad, you know." The voice was scratchy, and Amy realised it was prerecorded. "However, wholesale property damage... well, that's another story, now isn't it? Hope you have friends with two vcrs, and lots of time on their hands to make dubs. Oh, and there are tape backups of two certain hard drives in a safety deposit box, before some of you decide to go off on a quest for revenge of data loss. We're not trying to destroy you, per say..." "Just having a little fun." Tara smiled, drawing the shades, plunging the hotel room into gloom once again. She had to book a trip to New York, and find a way to repay Dave for the use of his little electromagnetic pulse generator. His research was going to go over well at Georgia Tech, she could just feel it. I Smell Something Rotten By Amy Denton Knock, knock, knock! I rolled over in bed, glancing at the clock as I did so. It read 9:47 a.m. I thought But, what had woken me up??? Knock, knock, knock!! Ah, the door. I slid out of bed and made my way to the door, grabbing a pair of sweat pants on the way. Who was knocking on the door so early anyway? "Guess I'll see when I open the door, won't I?" I said aloud to noone in particular. I reached the door by the third set of knocks and then opened it just enough to see who it was. It was the Fed Ex man. He was holding a oblong package away from him. He hadn't seen me open the door yet, so he was looking for someone else to take the package. "Yes?" I said, annoyed to be dragged out of bed this early in the morning for a package. He looked back at me and said "Are you Amy Denton?" "Yes. Why?" "Sign here." "Okay." I said, taking the clipboard from him and signing the sheet. "Is this for me?" "If you're Amy Denton." He looked at the sheet, handed the package to me with a warning on how heavy it was, then practically flew down the stairs before I had a chance to ask him anything else. I stared at the package that had been so ignoumously shoved into my hands and tried to comprehend. The package was heavy and smelled faintly like rotten peaches??? "What weirdness was this?" I groaned. It's just too early for this stuff. I shut the door and walked into the kitchen to look for a carving knife I could use. After a few moments of fussing and cussing, I got the package open. The smell of overripe peaches smacking me in the nose. I grabbed the package and ran to the door. Once outside in the fresh air, I looked a little more closely at what was in side all the wrapping. A brick covered in pink fuzz, with fangs, smelling of peaches with a little card saying: From the Ravenettes. I stared at it for a moment and then it dawned on me. A blond brick with fangs. The Ravens/ettes oppinion of Nick. I groaned out loud. As I stood there and muttered my plans for revenge, along with several choice adjectives, my neighbor Carolyn walked by, on her way to class. She looked at the package in my hand and stopped. "What is that?" "A brick covered in fuzz, with fangs." "Someone sent you a brick covered in fuzz and fangs?" "I have weird friends." "You can say that again." She stared for a moment longer, then continued on her way to class. I went inside, put the brick in the refrigerator, (I couldn't think of where else to put it), got dressed and went to the computer lab on campus to e-mail Sandra and tell her what had just happened. Rallying the Troops By Sandra Gray I looked over the message one more time before sending it, wishing I could tell more of what I knew. But that could be too dangerous if the message was somehow intercepted by hostile factions. *** To: Knighties list From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: We're Needed Fellow Knighties: Our spies in Toronto have learned disturbing news. The Ravenettes, under the auspices of Janette, are arranging for "parties" in three pubs in Manhattan (the Jack the Ripper, the Jekyll and Hyde, and the Slaughtered Lamb) to which all factions will be invited. This has been done with the unwitting help and agreement of The NatPack, with Natalie even convinced to try to lure Nick to his venue, the Jekyll and Hyde. I have convinced Nick that he should have a supportive presence of Knighties in New York. So now I'm writing to you. The parties are scheduled for Tuesday night, November 1. I'd like as many of you as feel you can be in New York on Monday or Tuesday to respond by email or phone with information on what you will require for airfare expenses. Hotel costs will also be covered for you (details on which hotel you will be booked in will be forwarded with your airfare expenses wire). I'm sure you agree that we cannot let Nick attend this party alone. The NatPack may be favorable to him, but he needs his own people there to protect his interests. So please get back to me quickly with what you need. Looking forward to seeing many of you in New York, --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** I hit CTRL Z and sent out the message. To the Pub By Karen Knight Karen decided to stay in bed until time to leave for the airport. The shopping had tired her out and the blisters on her feet needed time to heal. The Ravenettes were supposed to meet at the pub Jack the Ripper in New York. Karen fell asleep and dreamed about meeting Richard Jury at the pub. Naughty dreams. LaCroix Receives a Package By Sandra Gray LaCroix walked into his home office and looked at the stack of correspondence his aide had left there. Most of it was letters, but there was one package. Curious, he lifted it up and looked at it. It was from a Sandra Gray in Harrisonburg, Virginia. Now why was that name familiar? Since there was a "war" on, he shook the package and probed it with his vampire senses. Nothing. He opened it. He picked up the folded note paper on top of what looked like a black negligee and read it. He frowned. A Knightie was returning his gift? Rather curtly returning it, too. And what in the world was all this about a picture and badly written love letters? A *Knightie?* Nicolas really needed to keep a tighter rein on his followers. Didn't this Sandra Gray realize that there was supposed to be a truce between their factions? Even if it wasn't-- Then he remembered the name and the person who went with that name. The woman with the red hair Janette had suggested he "thrill" in the last war--it was her husband who'd come up with the separate mail drops for all the factions idea. He remembered their private conversation, the offer he'd made in jest. He smiled at the memory. Although she *was* a woman with strong physical appetites... He set aside her letter and saw a second card in the box, supposedly from him. He had to agree; it *was* crass. The negligee was nice, though. Then he noticed the picture in the bottom of the box. And saw red. The man in the picture bore more than a passing resemblance to him and was dressed, apparently, in the black negligee. Posing seductively... LaCroix rose and gave a slight growl. If this was Mrs. Gray's idea of a joke... He picked up the wrapper to look at it and another wrapper poked out. He pulled the brown sheets apart. The inner wrapper had a Toronto origination. If it was meant to be a cover for the package, a ruse to disguise its origins... He calmed. Nick's people, for the most part, didn't think in that devious a manner. Although in the last war there *was* that woman who tampered with his bank accounts-- good Cousin material, that one. But he was not amused. With cold determination, he decided, "This warrants some more investigation." UGHHHHH! By Patsy Kong I just came back home from spending several days at a friend's place and what should I find, but a message from FedEx saying that htey had been by with a delivery and would return again. I waited for them to return while I unpacked my dirty laundry. One thing good about living at home is that you don't have to worry about hunting up quarters for the washer. I heard the bells chime upstairs and went to answer the door. I signed for the package and literally dropped it on my foot as the delivery guy handed it over. "Whoops. Watch it. It's kinda heavy." he informed me belatedly. "Gee, thanks," I replied sarcastically. I shut the door and headed into the kitchen with the hefty package. It was wrapped in characteristic FEDEX manner and smelled slightly like... peaches? I reached for the scissors and attacked the package. One whiff and I was headed for the other side of the kitchen and the back door. WHO would ship me a package of rotten peaches? I wondered.I *never* got packages... unless it had something to do with the war. With a dishcloth over my nose, I carried the package into the backyard and continued to open it. To my surprise, it wasn't rotten fruit, well, yeah, it *smelled* like rotten fruit, but it was a brick wrapped in pink fuzz. To be honest, it looked kinda *cute*. I got a good snicker at the fangs. I wondered again who would be sending me this when I spotted the card. Ravenettes. Cute. I wondered. Then it came to me. HOW did the Ravenettes know who and where I was? I don't post often to the list, mostly lurking in its depths.There had to be a spy lurking. Time to confer with Sandra. As I logged in, I decided to check to email first. Skimming thru the backed up digests and second posts of the day, I noted that others had been hit as well, albeit a few days earlier. If all the Knighties had been targeted, there *was* a severe breach in our ranks. WHO could it be? I noted that fellow Knightie Perri was having trouble with a fellow Berkeley-based Ravenette named Lorelei. I wondered at their history and whether I might be able to help. I decided to send off a message to Perri after I contacted Sandra. To: Sandra Gray RE: The delivery I know that you and fellow Knighties have received those special packages. Do you think there might be extra eyes in the group? Be careful what you send to the group. Messages may be getting intercepted. I await further updates. MadDoc in the Knight I sent it whizzing along its merry way and thought, once again, that poor Sandra had an almost unmanageable address. But enough. I'll know sit back and see what our intrepid coordinator does next. Computer Concerns By Sandra Gray I hung up the phone. So this was the Ravenette response to the feathers! Well, maybe I *had* gone a bit far with that. But after three attacks by them on me... Fortunately, after suspecting we might have a Ravenette spy in our midst (it was too convenient that all of our group got the "brick" gifts), I'd made disk backups of the data on the computer. But I'd still lost a day or two of messages due to being too busy to download stuff. Thank God Bruce had already made disk copies of his gaming stuff, but he would miss the mail from the GURPS list. Good thing he was at that Star Trek con in Norfolk. I hoped that by the time he returned, I'd have worked out any problems from the attack. But he still wasn't going to appreciate it. Not at all. Still fuming, I got in the closet and dug out the old DEC Rainbow computer we had kept after getting the newer one. I hadn't at the time liked wasting our closet space keeping it, but now I was glad that we had. I had a little trouble hooking it up, but eventually had it up and running. I then sent out email to the group to see who else had fallen victim to the Ravenettes' attack. Karin and Jennise lose Susan-Again By Karin Welss Toms River, NJ. Thursday, just after sunset "Man oh man," groaned Jennise, as the two vampires brushed their hair, got dressed, and prepared to sally forth for another day on the job as the Archivist's Assistants. "I miss my morning cappucino. Maybe we should start a Peet's Coffee for Vampires." "Yeah, right," yawned Karin, opening the trunk of their rental car, and fishing out a Thermos. "I'd like a double nonfat decaf A-postiive latte." She unscrewed the Thermos and took a long drink. "Cow--again." Jennise shrugged as Karin handed her the Thermos. "What else is new?" Jennise drank, wiped her mouth delicately, and looked at her Nightmare Before Christmas Indiglo watch. "We'd better see what Lisa and Susan are up to... I don't know about you, but I get the feeling that Lisa is up to something. I'm glad we decided not to sleep over at the apartment." Karin started up the car, and they drove off. *** "She's WHAT!?" Karin and Jennise shrieked simultaneously. "How can she be gone? You were supposed to watch over her!" Karin was doing her best to sound reasonable and calm, but there was that prickly hot feeling in the back of her eyeballs, and he vision was going gold. Lisa backed away nervously. "I heard the dog barking right after you two left. That's when it must have happened..." "So help me, Lisa Merlin McDavid-- if I find out that you had to do with this, I'm going to have you for lunch. If Dorian doesn't decide to snack on you first..." As Karin's voice began to edge towards hysteria, Jennise disappeared into the bedroom. After a few minutes, the sound of muffled cursing could be heard. Karin left off her expert intimidation tactics (learned while working as a technical support representative for a software company) and went in. Jennise looked up. "It was another vampire," she stated, pointing at the windowframe. "Look at this-- the lock is snapped clean off. And there's no balcony or fire escape-- and Susan never had a chance to warn Lisa." "Oh sh**," groaned Karin, slumping against one of the many bookcases lining the apartment. "Now we've got to tell Dorian what happened. Does being kidnapped fall under the `avoiding an Interview,' part of the Code?" "Who do you think it was?" mused Jennise. "Don't think it was Pops-- why mess up a perfectly good plan? No reason for Dorian to do it... that leaves Nick and Janette. And this is definitely Janette's style--" "Nick!" both vampires chorused. "Who else would be dense enough?" "Boy is Susan going to annoyed at him," Jennise said gleefully. "I only hope she was wearing those garnet earrings of Lucinda's..." "Why?" asked Lisa, coming cautiously into the room. "Because," Jennise explained patiently, "They've been modified to contain a small computer chip... a transmitter. Pops wanted to make sure he knew where the Interview was going to be held." "So, what do we do next?" Karin asked, feeling immensely relieved. Losing Susan had been bad enough. would be...unpleasant. Especially if Dorian ever found out. "We've got to build a tracking device-- a receiver. Shouldn't take more than a couple of days... and I think Susan should get the chance to make Nick's life a living hell in the meanwhile, don't you. I mean she's mostly safe-- he won't snack on her, and if she can keep him from pulling some stupid stunt, she should be okay until we can steal him back." "Sounds good," agreed Karin. "I'll head over to Radio Shack as soon as we figure out what to do with Lisa here." "Yeah," said Jennise contemplatively. "What are we going to do with Lisa?" Lisa began to back nervously out of the room as two pairs of intent vampire eyes, one pair amber and the other hazel, turned in her direction. "Isn't it almost... lunchtime?" Lisa Treats Karin to Lunch By Lisa McDavid Jennise warped past Lisa and grabbed her arms from behind. Karin's approach was more leisurely. She paused to remove her prey's glasses before sinking in her teeth -- and fell to the floor, screaming and kicking. "What the hell?" Jennise let go of Lisa and knelt beside her stricken colleague. This was a mistake, as it got her a foot directly in the stomach. She fell sprawling directly on top of Karin. "Polidori's Syndrome," said Lisa impatiently. "LaCroix made the same mistake in the last war. It got him the devil's own attack of collywobbles, too. She'll be fine in a couple of days." She stepped over the fallen assistants. "Didn't you ever wonder why I don't care how mad vampires get at me? Polidori patients are poisonous to vampires. Just be glad you didn't get any." Jennise sat up abruptly. "Where do you think you're going? Or don't you care any more about Java?" "Java will be fine. All the cats will, actually. They're having a wonderful time at Mama Schanke's." Lisa collected her purse and carry-on. "She's a wonderful old lady -- the Italian half of Schanke, you know. The family blames the Polish half for Schanke's not going into the family business. Oh, sure, somebody's got to do police work, but the real money's in wholesale garlic. Schanke's mother runs a test kitchen right in her home." And Lisa closed the door softly behind herself.