Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 16:39:10 EDT From: SusanG2522@AOL.COM Subject: FKWARSII--PETS OR MEAT PETS OR MEAT Saturday Evening-- July 9th Peanuts. That was all they'd given her on the plane. Peanuts. Susan had been starving. With Diego under the care of her brother and Jude having arranged plane tickets (for which she was just as glad--having to make her way through the Dream County on the QT was cheap but not exactly safe), Susan had packed, gotten to Newark, and was aboard the flight before she could stop and get anything to eat. Jude, of course, had already eaten. So Susan had remained sullen, irritable, and hungry as Jude outlined her plans for her Toronto sortie. Once at the hotel, they'd checked in. Jude had disappeared almost immediately. Susan had bided her time until well after sunset by grazing through whatever appetizers room service could offer without bankrupting her, knowing well enough that there'd be little opportunity for real food at the Raven. It seemed more than diplomatic not to ask the denizens the location of the nearest steak place. The Raven was dark and noisy. The bouncer gave her a look as she entered--she wasn't enough of a regular to be ignored or enough of a strange to be barred. In fact, she wasn't all that fond of clubs to begin with. But every now and again someone had sense enough to play some Madness, or Oingo Boingo, or They Might Be Giants. And if you sat in the back booths, you could spend the whole night watching everything that went on around you without drawing too much attention to yourself. Great for research. But a bad place to be if you were hungry and weren't on a liquid diet. Susan wandered the length of the club, until she could make her way to the bar. Janette was standing there, stroking a cat who was perched atop the bar and licking a saucer of cream. Susan cleared her throat, eyes wide at the sight of the cat. Janette barely glanced at her, returning her attention to the feline, who'd abandoned the cream when she'd started scratching behind its ears. "You're here. Finally." "Well, if you'd bothered to send me a ticket--" She stopped herself and swallowed. "I thought you didn't like cats." "Most. But Goblin is one of ours. Not like those horrid creatures that attacked us." Susan sniffed and looked around. "Yeah--you said something about garlic." "Betsy did an admirable job of cleaning up. You should have been here to help her." "I don't do floors." This time, Susan didn't back down from the glare--heaven knew her life-long battle with her own kitchen floor was traumatic enough, without trying to scrape the unnameable substances off the Raven's dance floor. " I got here as quickly as I could. I assume the summit didn't go well." Janette turned her back to the cat, who continued to lap cream from the dish . . . although Susan got the feeling that he wasn't missing a word of their conversation. "That's the understatement of the century. Nicola hasn't done a blessed thing, as usual. They've got that EX-Cousin--" "John?" supplied Susan. "Yes." Janette smiled and looked away. "Nicola hasn't even begun to deal with him, yet. How hard it must be for the poor boy--all that warm blood within reach . . . . It's only a matter of time." "We, uh, don't happen to have anyone over there, do we?" Janette shrugged. "Who knows, with the way they're changing back and forth, left and right. How can you trust anyone, anymore?" She sniffed and picked up the cat. "Besides, I have the distinct impression that Nicola doesn't trust ." Susan looked down at the floor and didn't say a word--she might have been tired and hungry, but she wasn't stupid. "You, uh, don't want me to go over there?" "Into that snake pit? You'd be safer with LaCroix." Janette held the cat against her shoulder, tickling it beneath the chin. "Not that I have any plans for sending you to him." Susan let out the breath she'd been holding. "Okay. Do they have any of their people ?" "Oh, they've been in and out. It's so easy to spot them-- they just don't have right attitude. Ambivalence." Janette leaned down and placed the cat on the floor. "Now run and play, little Goblin. Earn your keep. I thought I spotted a mouse in the storeroom the other evening." Susan watched the cat scamper off, then her gaze moved back to Janette. "Are you going to do anything about them? The spies?" "Why should I? If they pay for their drinks and don't cause any problems, what does it matter?" She shrugged, then signaled to the bartender. "Besides, I have other concerns. I want my mail from LaCroix." "And what about Laurie?" "What about her?" Janette took the glass offered to her, giving the bar tender a slight nod. "Her attitude in all this has been very distressing. I half-believe LaCroix put her up to it. It would be so like him, to play me for a fool this way. She'll go back to him, they always do." It didn't take much insight to see through Janette's studied indifference--she was annoyed and angry, yet resigned in that way she often got when it came to anything dealing with LaCroix, as if there was no way she could win and she'd be foolish even to try. "About that truce with Natalie's people--?" "Forget it. They're in too much disarray--they keep looking to dear Nicola to do . And he won't. He's afraid to use the pawns he's gathered, yet he's afraid to act alone. And so he does nothing but pace and ponder. It's so . And the rest simply hurl accusations at one another and nothing ever gets done. As I said, I've half a mind to throw my lot in with LaCroix." Then she smiled, almost sadly. "But, no. He'll be angry with me as well--for using him to keep Nicola busy, for trying to spirit away one of his own." "Which means we wait to see where the chips are going to fall." "You learning." Janette sipped at her glass, then eyed Susan over the rim. "I've asked Alma to contact all of my own and have them come here. She's got some errands to run, but I think she'll get to it shortly. For safety's sake, it would be better, yes?" She sniffed again. "As if I can't take care of my own." Susan glanced down and saw Goblin skulking around the edge of the bar. "Looks like you've got an admirer." "He has his uses. As do all my 'pets.'" Janette picked up her cigarette case from the bar and opened it. "Speaking of which--I'd like you to run to my tobacconist. My shipment's come in." She hesitated, but only for a second. Then, without a word, Susan took the card that Janette withdrew from her case, and headed for the door. Maybe, if she was lucky, there'd be a steak place around the corner . . . . ----------------------- SusanG2522@aol.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 14:27:18 -0800 From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" Subject: FKWars2: Enemy Territory [part 2 of 2]------------- Enemy Territory Lounging against a pillar, striving to adopt the air of one who is entirely too blase to venture onto the dance floor, Tanaquil could feel the thrum of the music vibrating through the club. *Whoever does the music here really isn't half bad*, she mused. *Not like whoever did the decorating*. Good thing she could identify most of the vampires based on who she'd seen writhing in pain the night before. Otherwise, it wouldn't have been easy to distinguish the genuinely undead from the mere casualty of fashion. Some she could even identify from the show -- yes, there was Spike at the door, and Myra on the dance floor. But where was Alma? "My GOD! What did you put in this?" The sounds of enraged mortality attracted her attention to the bar. Spike was moving smoothly towards the offended skinhead. Oh, no. Janette *hadn't* put *her* in charge of mixing the drinks? Tanaquil attempted to limp gracefully closer. Alma was defending herself tearfully. "But he asked for a Bloody Mary!" she wailed. Tanaquil was intrigued. Surely she had seen some of the words Janette was using in one of those poems of Catullus. She wasn't entirely clear on the meaning, seeing that the Latin dictionaries always gave an equivalent in Greek and the Greek dictionaries sent you back to the same word in Latin, and the parallel translations always translated the poems into Italian instead of English, but she was fairly sure that Alma wasn't physically capable of *that*. Spike was escorting the injured gentleman to the door. If he hadn't had more drugs than an pharmacy in his body, he might have known that what Alma had given him wasn't V8 that had gone off. Janette was now making a noise that Tanaquil had always thought was restricted to offended cats. "Having problems with the help?" Tanaquil asked in her best bored, affected, supercilious drawl. Alma, hearing herself described in this way, decided that she had had quite enough for one night. She uttered a wordless sound of pure rage and stormed away, as only a vampire can storm. Janette was looking thoroughly fed up. Every vampire in the place, including herself, was suffering from a monstrous garlic hangover, half her human staff including all the bartenders had quit after the panther incident, and what with keeping an eye on rattled Ravenettes and Pan only knew how many bumbling NatPack spies, she had no time to spare on vodka tonics. She spun on this strange woman in a fine vampire rage. "This is all your fault!" she hissed. "I have no idea who you are and I don't care. Get behind the bar. Do you know the difference between a sidecar and a sloe gin fizz?" Now here was a piece of luck. Tanaquil moved hastily behind the bar. "Try me." Janette eyed her through narrowed lids. Mortal arrogance was so tiresome, but it could be amusing to puncture. "Give me a gin and tonic. With Bombay Sapphire gin." Tanaquil eyed her back, with the look she normally reserved for one of the cats after it had thrown up on her flatmate's bed. "I thought it was bad policy to serve someone who's obviously lost all judgment at the bottom of a shot glass. Or are you accustomed to cater to sober barbarians in this place?" Janette raised her eyebrows. "Tiens! Not bad. You're not looking for a job, are you?" "As a matter of fact, I am." "If you can handle this crowd tonight, it's yours." Janette began to withdraw. Tanaquil thought that she had never seen anyone look sardonically relieved before. "Bonne chance, ma petite chou." She disappeared lithely through the door Alma had slammed behind her. Tanaquil took a deep breath. She was in! Now, to put the next phase of the plan into action... S. Tanaquil Johnson [end of part 2 of 2]------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 12:30:45 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FK Wars 2: A new beginning [part 2/2]------------------------ Evening, July 9th They stood on the rooftop of LaCroix's apartment building. Lisa, Tokaara, Margaret, and the newest Cousin, Sharon. LaCroix stood before them, smiling at each in turn. "Things are progressing nicely," he said. "Phase 1 is complete." He glanced at Sharon's puzzled frown. "A week of scrambling, using resources, travelling. It's worn them out," he explained. "It's time to move to the second phase." "Which is?" "Lets look at our ranks for a moment, shall we?" LaCroix spoke in professorial tones. "Tokaara and Margaret, you've been with me since the beginning. You saw the way immediately. Margaret, especially. You, my dear, were among the First. And there were others, Sandye, Dennis." He moved next to Lisa. "And a former Die-Hard. One who found her way to me on her own." "My lovely Monica, who is off on other assignments. A former Ravenette." He stopped in front of Sharon and placed his hand on her shoulder. "And now, my most valuable prize. One of Natalie's friends who has seen the light, as it were. And the struggle only made this reward that much richer." "She isn't going to let me go without a fight," Sharon said. LaCroix grinned. "Good. But she won't win. She's only a mortal woman after all. No real threat." "I wouldn't be so sure of that," Sharon warned, then tried unsuccessfully to look away when he pinned her with a sharp gaze. "Perhaps your right," he said after a moments reflection. "But remember that you've burned that bridge. You can't go back to her. She'll never trust you again. None of them will." Sharon nodded. "I know." "Good." "Now, back to the discussion at hand." He paced about for a moment. "Original cousins, a Ravenette, a Die-Hard, and a NatPacker. What's missing." "A Knightie!" Margaret exclaimed. "And a FoD!" Sharon supplied. "Yes, and I really would like a complete set. I want a Knightie and a FoD, and anyone else you can convince to join us. Remember, they're tired, they've been using up their resources. And, they'll be looking for the Abarat. Nicholas doesn't realize the spell can only be used once. If he finds it and figures that out, he'll no doubt do the right thing and use it on that wretched John Dencoff." For a moment LaCroix's lip curled in disgust. "Isolate them. Use up their resources. *Then* move in and show them the truth. Point out their patron's weaknesses." He stopped in front of Sharon again. "If necessary, as it was for you, I'll step in." He looked at each of them in turn. "Also gather information. We can also use it for other battles if they don't prove useful here. You have your assignments," he said, then lifted in the air without a sound. They watched him rise in the air. Then they turned and looked at one another. "FoDs." Sharon said. "We all know that the fasted way to a FoD's heart . . ." "Is through the souvlaki supply!" they finished in unison. [end of part 2/2]------------------------------------------------------------- ---- Cousin Sharon o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o | Sharon Himmanen | shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu * romana@aol.com | | Cousin | s.himmanen@genie.geis.com | o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 21:14:03 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2 : Natalie, help! ---------------------------------------------------------- Ivy stared down at Betsy's unconscious form. *One of us? Damn all this subterfuge to the nine hells and back and Nick was right.* She checked for a pulse, hoping she had some idea that what she was doing was right. Betsy looked fine, just knocked out. *What to do what to do*. She picked up the telephone and hit speeddial 7. "Hi, Kevin, it's Ivy. I've um, got a little problem. You see ... just come over I need you." "Sure, I'll be right there." Kevin, being a medical intern would surely know what to do. Kevin always knew what to do. Kevin lived a few blocks away, always knew what to do and would make everything okay again. *Stop that!* Ivy put an abrupt end to her mental babbling. Kevin arrived in a few moments. Ivy was glad he was able to figure out which address to come to, probably checked the apartment first then came here, she figured. "She was in the apartment. She's from the wars, you know about those, and well, I hit her." "I see." Kevin knelt beside Betsy and ran expert fingers along the bruise on her temple. "She'll be fine, she should be put under observation. I'll call an ambulance." "No," Ivy said. "It's not safe for her. LaCroix might try to hurt her." "Her, why?" "Why was she in here. If she'd strike against him or connected to me since I have he'll go after her out of spite. He doesn't need much of a reason. I know a doctor we can bring him to." Kevin nodded. "I'll get the car." ----------- Kevin stared at the odd elevator of Nick's loft. "Are you sure this is the place?" "Absolutely." Kevin carried Betsy, who was conscious but dazed up to the loft. "Natalie Help!" Ivy yelled as soon as the elevator doors opened. Natalie ran over and, with Kevin's help lay Betsy on the leather couch. Ivy shuddered remembering John lying in that very spot. Tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks. "I didn't mean it. I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't know you weren't an enemy. Please, please be alright." Kevin pulled her away to let Natalie do her work. Natalie, though not used to working with living people had Betsy conscious, eyes focused, and walking in very little time. ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sun, 10 Jul 1994 23:56:00 EDT From: 'Most Holy Subject: FK Wars 2: FOSsils by the Tails FOSsils by the Tails Late evening 7/10 Since the prank on Cousin Lisa, 'Most Holy had watched with interest the convergence on Toronto by the warring factions. So too did Chewie, the Siamese who had her own ways of keeping abreast of events. So it happened that as he had completed downloading the war onto the disks for future reference, he sat back to reflect on the events of the day. "You know Chewie, I'm just wondering if a little excursion to Toronto would not be such a bad thing after all. I mean the Die-Hards could use some help and...Oh, did I ever tell you about my trip up there last October?" With a deep sigh, the Siamese replied, "Only every time the Blue Jays are mentioned!" "Touchy. Okay what say we mosey on up there and see if I can be of use to anyone?" "You mosey. I'll fly." It never ceased to amaze 'Most Holy the manner in which Chewie could be so sarcastic for a cat. As he gathered up his gear for his morning bike ride, Chewie scurried up to the keyboard and sent a cryptic message to Gandalf & Merlin: To: Gandalf & Merlin From: Chewie < Chewcat@catnet.Washington.dc Date: 94-07-10 23:54:01 EDT Subj: Need a Paw? Have followed activities of your mom. Expect opportunity to arrive soon for meeting. My dad is seeking roll, I prefer bagels. See you in the dark. Chewie 'Most Holy Chewie (A Noble Siamese) Otter@DRYCAS.club.cc.cmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 9 Jul 1994 16:45:11 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Family Feud ends as Lisa leaves the Family Lisa stepped out of the shadows, blocking LaCroix's way. LaCroix smiled coldly. "I'm a great believer in cutting my losses. I never thought I could trust *you*." "Spoken like a true Cousin." LaCroix's smile widened, and he flourished it like a sword. Lisa shrugged. "Maybe. I've certainly deceived you. A few minutes ago a friend of mine -- not poor Anne Fraser, she's not speaking to me any more -- delivered my laptop with the copy I made of the Abarat to the Knighties at Nick's place. It's true *I* can't work the spell twice, but there's nothing to stop someone else from doing it." The vampire's eyes flared red. He purred, "That, my dear, was a fatal mistake." "Yes, because I was dying to know you," Lisa snapped. "And dying is just what you're going to do!" With which riposte LaCroix snatched Lisa into his arms, sank his fangs into her neck -- and fell back with a cry of agony, writhing on the floor. "No, dying is what you're going to wish you could do." Lisa was smiling again, icily. "Didn't you ever wonder why I never seemed to care if you or Larry bit me? I've got Polidori's Syndrome." She seemed to be searching for something in her purse. "What have you done to him?" Margaret screamed nearly as loudly as LaCroix as the rest of the cousins ran into the room. "Polidori's Syndrome. People who have it are poisonous to Vampyres. He'll get well eventually, but he's going to have a terrible bellyache for quite a while." One of two of the cousins made to grab her, but Lisa's hand came out of her bag with a Police Special, and the heroines took the better part of valor. "I'm leaving now. I hope the rest of you enjoy your war." Lisa began backing toward the door, the gun carefully pointed at her erstwhile friends. "Unless someone wants an exit, disguised as a corpse, I'd advise against trying to stop me." The sound of the apartment door slamming brought down the curtain. ----------------- Lisa McDavid d020214@univscvm (bitnet) d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu (internet) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 18:32:58 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKW2: An Arrival An Arrival Sharon Himmanen Saturday, July 9. Evening "He wants to see you," Cousin Margaret said from the doorway. Sharon looked up from the beginnings of her plans for making the lives of a few FoDs miserable. Not to mention Susan Garrett--she knew Uncle would like to have Susan Garrett in his collection and Sharon knew things. She'd planned on setting a few things in motion, then take a much needed shower, get a much needed bite to eat, and then settle in for a much needed night's sleep. "Now!" Margaret said, turning away. With a sigh she put down the phone and followed her down the hallway to the study. LaCroix was sitting in a chair. Although he seemed up and in control, she could still see the unusual pallor on his face. He'd fed well before being poisoned by Lisa, but it would take time. "You wanted to see me?" she asked nervously, stopping near the door. "Yes," he said airily. "I have a little assignment for you. One that's uniquely suited to you." She took another step further into the room and waited. "Nobody know's you've defected, do they?" "No." "And you've been . . . missing since Friday morning, after your visit to Betsy, correct?" "That's right." LaCroix gave her a chilly smile. "I believe your . . . friends at Nicholas' will be happy to see you again. To learn that you're . . . safe." Sharon smiled back with a lot more conviction than she actually felt. She didn't want to face them just yet, especially if they didn't know. What was she going to say to Natalie? How could she convince her? LaCroix must have caught some fleeing doubt in her eyes, for he leaned closer to her. As his smile grew sharper, she realized that that this was a test--LaCroix wanted to see just how strong her commitment to him was, and what better way than sending her to another camp as a false friend. He nodded, watching her work it out for herself. He relaxed suddenly and turned to the window, looking out over the city. "You'll be my eyes and ears. I don't usually go for spying, although many a conflict has been won that way," he commented, turning professorial again. "But I suspect that Lisa has some game afoot." "Lisa McDavid?" "Yes," he said. "She's sent them a copy of the Abarat. Now, I've given Alexandra the task of making sure the computer it's on is completely unusable, and that the copy is lost. Alexandra has her . . . charms, but she's basically incompetent. I want you to make sure she's done the deed." "And if she hasn't?" He didn't turn to look at her. "Then the task will fall to you, by default," he said simply. "But, if she did manage to actually do something right, then stay there. Report their activities to me when you can. And wait for me to arrive." "When will you come?" "In a few days," he said absently. "I'll be making a . . . mail delivery." She could hear the smile in his voice. * * * * * "Nick! Natalie! It's me, Sharon Himmanen! Let me in!" She spoke breathlessly into the intercom. It was a full 30 seconds before the door buzzed open. They'd figured out something had happened to her--she wasn't surprised. She'd been missing for days. Standing in the elevator, she tried to control her breathing, but the truth was, she was on the verge of panic at this point. She didn't want to be here. She didn't know how she was going to face any of them, or how she was going to convince them that she was on the level. She'd even seriously considered skipping town, disappearing into the night, slipping away. Could she really destroy the Abarat if Alexandra hadn't taken care of it? To deliberately destroy Nick's chances at mortality? Natalie would *never* forgive her then. LaCroix's words to her on the roof earlier that evening echoed in her head. *You can't go back to her. You've burned that bridge. She'll never trust you again. None of them will.* The ride to the loft was too short and too soon the door was sliding back. She was glad now she hadn't had time to clean up--it would lend a bit of credibility to her story. Taking a deep breath she stepped into the loft. There were a lot of people she didn't recognize. In fact, she didn't recognize *anybody* except for Nick. And Nat, who was coming forward now. All these people looking at her, it made her nervous and she took a quick step back. But Nat was there, grabbing her arm before she could get away. "What happened?" she asked. "Where have you been? We've been worried *sick*!" She nodded. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry. The laptop . . ." "Was a trap," Nick finished. "We know. Mine's been recovered." He was eyeing her suspiciously. "Where *have* you been?" he asked, eying her rumpled clothing, the bags under her eyes. She swallowed. "It's a really long story . . . but I did something that you might consider . . . a little . . . well, a little stupid." "You mean aside from going to PSU by yourself and not getting in touch with anyone for two days?" Nat asked. "Stupider than that," Sharon confirmed. She could tell them now, tell them that she'd switched sides and be done with it, out of here. But something in her couldn't do it, couldn't let LaCroix down, afraid of failing the test, afraid of what he might do. Afraid of seeing the disappointment in their eyes . . . "Do I want to hear this?" Nick asked. "Probably not. The laptop *was* a trap, as you said. But I didn't figure that out until after I sent you the telegram." She paused and looked around. "You did get the telegram, right?" "Yes, we got it, and if you ever send us anything so cryptic again, I swear I'll strangle you!" Nat said. And Sharon believed her. "Well," she continued, rubbing her face. Too many people were hanging on her every word. "I took the laptop and was on my way to the airport when I lost it." "Lost the laptop?" "Yeah. I'd sent you the telegram, then I was going to come up here, just like I said. But the cousin's intercepted me and took it. I spent most of Friday night playing laptop tag with them. Remember, at that point I still thought it was yours--I hadn't had time to check it. "But then, I got it back. Near . . . Columbus Ohio I think. I checked it, and *that's* when I realized it wasn't yours. He'd been leading me on a wild goose chase, wearing me out." "Was there anything on it?" "Just some really awful poetry," she said. Nick turned sharply away. "But no database, no other personal files except a little . . . digit ed image of LaCroix." "Oh no," Nat said. "Yeah, it was an offer." "And let me guess," Nick said, running his hands through his hair. "This is the *stupid* part, right?" She nodded, trying to act sheepish. She was better at this than she thought she'd be, she thought to herself. They seemed to be buying it. She figured if she could convince them, the other people in the room would buy it so she concentrated on Nick and Nat. "I pretended to switch sides," she said after a long pause. Nat closed her eyes and slowly shook her head. "You're wrong. That wasn't a *little* stupid. That was *a lot* stupid! Do you have any idea just how dangerous that was?" "Yeah," she said, nodding. "I'm sure he saw through me right away. We had a big meeting on the roof of his apartment building. He went on and on about phase one being complete, but he didn't go into exactly what that was. I tried to find out, but he said I'd find out when the time was right, after I'd proven myself. "I'm sure, now, that the whole meeting was for my benefit. I kind of panicked and got out of there as soon as I could. And I came here." Before she could continue, the intercom buzzed again. When Nick answered it, Lisa McDavid's voice drifted into the loft. | Sharon Himmanen | shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu * romana@aol.com | | Cousin | s.himmanen@genie.geis.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 01:52:29 -0400 From: Robin Carroll-Mann Subject: Journey's End Sunday, sometime in the wee hours Robin looked up at Nick's building. She'd never really expected to be here. She hoped it wasn't too late for her to be of help. She hoped they that someone inside -- a FOD perhaps? -- had brought food. In her rush to the airport, certain things, like breakfast and lunch, had been overlooked. More importantly, she hoped that someone up there knew she was coming. She'd sent e-mail to Natalie before leaving, but didn't know if it had been received, and couldn't check, as she didn't have a laptop. Shaking her head to clear away the clouds of fatigue, she stabbed at the buzzer. A moment later, a muffled male voice, said "Yes?" She couldn't tell if it was Nick. "Ummm... this is Robin Carroll-Mann, from New Jersey? I'm a friend of Natalie's?" No response, but the door buzzed and clicked, allowing her to enter. A few minutes later, the elevator door rolled aside, exposing the loft and its motley inhabitants. She recognized Nick and Natalie, but the rest of the faces were one giant blur. Robin found herself stepping forward. "Hi," she muttered to no one in particular. "Don' mind me... I'll just sit over there and listen for a while, OK?" She staggered over to an unclaimed chair, and gratefully deposited herself in it, hoping against vain hope that she would not fall asleep -- or at least that she would not snore. Robin Carroll-Mann rcmann@delphi.com Nat Pack ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 20:36:54 -0500 From: "Sharon S. Scott" Subject: The Snake Pit Saturday, July 9 The buzzer sounded. I needed to talk to Nick before anything else happened. I walked over to where he and Nat and Sharon Himmanen were talking, and touched him on the arm. As he turned towards me, I noticed with dismay how tired he looked. He wasn't used to being around this many mortals for such a long time, and the strain was showing. He had to be hungry, and he hadn't slept in days. "Nick, could I talk to you a moment?" He nodded and I went hesitantly on. "Just be careful, okay? Lisa is ... dangerous ... very, very dangerous. Don't trust her--she's changed sides once already." "I know that. And I know who she chose. And why. I'll be careful." I had to say it or die. "Nicholah, whatever happens ... you know ... " He whispered, "I know," and turned back to face the elevator. Heart pounding, I moved around the knot of people in the middle of the loft, and slipped back into the shadows under the staircase. My face felt hot--damn, I was blushing. Or having a hot flash. I had promised myself I would never utter those words that Alyce had used--"take me, Nick"--and I wasn't about to now. But just in case ... --------------------------- Sharon S. scotts@baylor.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Mon, 11 Jul 1994 13:07:11 EDT From: SusanG2522@aol.com Subject: FKWARSII--Anybunny Here? ANYBUNNY HERE? Late Saturday Night/Early Sunday Morning 7/09 Beth sat atop the hood of her car in the Toftrees Apartment parking lot at College Station. Binoculars poised, she peered upward at the balcony door, but the there was no light shining through the curtain. It had been quiet. Too quite. Janette had sent her up here with a mission--to spy on the erstwhile cousins and, perhaps, double-check that EX-Cousin Laurie was as EX as she claimed. She swung her binoculars to the opposite balcony. There was faint glow of a computer screen in Laurie's apartment --she could figure out that much through the curtain. But that was all. "Those also serve who only stand and wait," she muttered to Hazel, as she picked up her thermos of ice tea and poured herself a cup. Hazel, unhappily drowsing in his cage, merely twitched an ear at the observation. He'd had a harrowing few days, being kidnapped and rescued. What he needed was a nice long nap in a cool place. But a sound keep disturbing him. "Hsst! Hsst!" Hazel opened one bunny eye and peered beyond the rim of the car tire. Two very wide eyes peered back. Hazel's rear leg rose slightly, ready to thump a warning to alert Beth-- "Hsst!" said the cat, for that's what it was, the length of black fur sliding out from the shadow beneath the car. "I've got a message for you." Hazel paused and cocked his head, bunny eyes bright. He didn't really trust cats all that much. But after all he'd been through in the past couple days, trusting smooth skins other than his Beth wasn't such a good idea either. The cat rubbed against the bars of Hazel's cage, staying in the shadow of the tire. "You're supposed to go back to the Raven." Hazel's eyes widened. He twitched his nose and gave a bunny sneeze--he hadn't liked the smell of that place at all. "But you have to go anyway," said the cat, purring softly. Leaning forward, it stretched the length of the shadow, haunches high and belly brushing the ground. "I saw it on e-mail." Hazel's nose twitched again. The rabbit blinked, half- turning. "Maybe you trust me, maybe you can't," said the cat. His purr sounding like a laugh, he turned and sauntered under the car, swallowed by the blackness. "The name's Trouble." The cat seemed to disappear. Hazel watched intently, then saw a black streak shoot from beneath the car, across the tar, and onto the verge in front of the building. The cat continued upward, leaping from a tree onto the balcony, then giving a final swish of its tail before it disappeared from sight. For a moment, Hazel pondered the message. Yes, the Raven smelled funny, but it was cool and there weren't all these awful gnats there to ruffle one's fur. And that one fanged smooth skin had been awfully nice, feeding it green and crunchy things. Hazel thumped a foot against the ground. Immediately, Beth looked down over the fender of the car. "What's wrong, Hazel?" Now most rabbits had great difficulty communicating with smooth skins, but Hazel had trained Beth well. Pounding the same foot again brought Beth down to his level. She opened the cage, saying, "All right--but I can't let you out around here. I thought I saw a cat or something. You can sit on the hood of the car." Hazel waited as Beth put him down beside her. It was tough going on the warm metal, but Hazel made his way to the small folder where Beth had left her maps. Carefully, he peeked inside, then grabbed one at random and pulled it out with his teeth. Three tries later, he found the map of Toronto, with the location of the Raven circled. Beth had gone back to looking through the binoculars. Hazel thumped on the hood of the car again, then stood his ground on the Toronto map as Beth fussed and scolded him for playing with her maps. She left the Toronto map for last and tried to pull it out from under him, but he wouldn't budge. And when she tried to push him away, he nipped gently with his teeth, then thumped again. For a smooth skin, she was pretty bright. "I get the message," she said. "No biting, okay?" Head bowed meekly, Hazel hopped from the map. Beth picked it up, then looked down at Hazel. "The Raven, huh? Yeah, I was thinking the same thing. We're doing nothing out here. Maybe we'd better check in and see what's going on." Beth tucked the map back into her folder, then picked up Hazel. "I thought I saw an all-night mini-mart a couple of blocks away--they'll have a pay phone. And maybe we can get you some fresh lettuce, huh?" Hazel snuggled happily in Beth's arms for a moment, but was content to be returned to his cage. Message received and understood. And there was nothing to lull a bunny into a well deserved sound sleep like the thrum of a car engine during a long road trip. ------------------ SusanG2522@aol.com (With permission of LizHazel and her little friend, too) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 08:41:59 -0800 From: "S. Tanaquil Johnson" Subject: FKWars2: I'm In! Date: Sunday July 10 3:46 AM Toronto time (?) To: Nat Pack Cc: Knighties From: sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu Subject: I'm In! Hello all! I hope I haven't left anyone out. I feel a bit out of the loop. Valerie, what happened after I left Nick's loft last night? Looks like it was shaping up to be a wild party. The good news is that Janette has hired me as a bartender. Long story. She was so pleased with me for taking the alcoholic end of the business out of her hair tonight that she says I can work at the Raven as many nights as I want. She even gave me keys to the place so I can handle supply during the day. She says she's counting on me to keep the customers happy. I think I can manage that. How happy she and her faction are going to be, I don't know. ;) Those of you who are in Toronto, come visit me if you can. I'll be on duty every night until she throws me out. I'm planning some excitement for Monday or Tuesday night, depending on how long it takes me to get organized. Valerie, you can pass this on to Sharon H. if you see her. I don't dare send e-mail to an account that might be unattended. What's up with her? You did say pigeon post??!? Tanaquil P.S. I can always be reached by e-mail. Same bat time, same bat channel. Keep me posted! S. Tanaquil Johnson ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 23:23:25 EDT From: SusanG2522@AOL.COM Subject: FKWARII--Blood on the Rocks Late Saturday/early Sunday BLOOD ON THE ROCKS Janette looked up from her place at the bar, clipboard in hand, as Susan came out of the back room. "And?" Goblin was slung around Susan's shoulders, beneath her long hair. "Beth just called in--nothing doing at State College, so I gave her your instructions to head here, pronto." "Good. Very good." Janette looked back to the clipboard. "My followers seem to be in short supply these days. You learn to travel faster." "We can't fly under our own power." "That be arranged." Susan gulped at Janette's warning, one hand going to scratch between the ears of the furry black cat. "Thanks, but no. My motto stands, 'I'd rather see than be one.'" "I thought it was 'I was misinformed.'" "That's an explanation, not a motto." "Whatever." Janette dropped the clipboard atop the bar and looked over the crowd--most of the mortals in the Raven had drifted away as the hour had grown later, which meant the vampire/human ratio of the club was increasing. "When will Beth arrive?" "Tomorrow morning, maybe afternoon. She'll probably have to take a rest stop for Hazel." When Janette arched an eyebrow, Susan added, "It's riding all that way in a cage." The other eyebrow went up. "Hazel is the rabbit," Susan explained quickly. Janette looked away. "Oh, yes. I remember. Alma seemed fond of it." She shuddered. "Reminds me too much of that 'Warren' business from the last war." She glanced over her shoulder suspiciously. "There's none of that going on, is there?" "Not that I know." "Good. It was all too . . . organized. Which is always a danger." But Janette was still eyeing her suspiciously. "You were part of it, if I recall." "Yeah. Blackbrain. Blackie, to my friends." Janette seemed content as she looked away. "Suits you, actually." Susan cleared her throat. "How's the new bartender working out?" "Well, she speaks English, which is a plus." A lazy smile stole across Janette's lips as she glanced at the large, blond Danish bartender. "And it does mean our other friend will have more . . . breaks." "I'll bet," muttered Susan. In response, Janette picked up the clipboard and thrust it into her hands. "Alma and I are taking some stock over to Nicola's place. I may be gone for some time. try to keep my bar intact until I return." She brushed by Susan, sparing a moment to stroke a nail down Goblin's back and tail. "Pretty kitty." As she left, she heard the faintest, "Me-yow," from Susan's lips, but decided to be magnanimous and ignore it. --- Alma had loaded the case of blood into the trunk of the car and was slamming it shut just as Janette left the Raven. She winced, then frowned, catching the keys Alma threw to her. "It's a delicate piece of machinery," she chided, running her hand along the black metal fender of the car. " a barn door." "Sorry." Alma's tone was sarcastic, but Janette decided to ignore that, too. She slipped behind the wheel and started the engine. There was something about driving in Toronto that relaxed her--excessive speeds being ignored in favor of caution. Janette was a fast driver, but a good one, and the Toronto police bothered her far less often than their American cousins had when she'd last spent any amount of time in that country. Cousins. Ignoring Alma, she slipped her sunglasses from the car visor, opened then with a flick of her wrist, and covered her eyes. She wondered what LaCroix might be up to. He'd been far too quiet. She'd expected some move against her by now, but he seemed occupied, almost distracted. Perhaps by dissension in his own camp? A smile stole over her lips as she considered the idea. Even if she lost Laurie back to her innate cousinhood, it was good to show LaCroix that his hold over mortals wasn't as strong as he thought, that his followers could lose interest in his leadership and his way of life-- As had Nicola. It was not a long drive to Gateway Lane from the Raven. Janette made a note of the added number of rental cars situated around the warehouse and sighed-- followers. Lovely. She popped the trunk, but kept her sunglasses in place, adjusting them slightly as Alma easily lifted the case of filled bottles from the back of the car. "Be careful," she warned, as Alma adjusted the neckline of her blouse downward, taking one hand off the crate. "If you drop any of it, you'll clean it from the sidewalk yourself . . . with your tongue." "The cow, too?" Alma grimaced and both hands returned to the crate. Janette decided not to startle Nicola much, buzzing at the door and smiling up at the camera. ", Nicola. I've brought a peace offering." "Janette." There was a whispered conversation in the background, a few words to his 'friend' Natalie, then the buzzer for the elevator rang. "Wonderful," hissed Janette. She waved at Alma. "Hurry, hurry!" she snapped. Alma scuttled into the elevator after her, crate of wine bottles in hand. Janette carefully reached over and adjusted one of the black silk bows--black for her, red for Nicola. He was still rather wary after the trick one of LaCroix's people had pulled on him during the last war. It had been that Laurie, hadn't it? Clicking her tongue against her teeth, Janette sighed. Ah, she would have made a splendid Ravenette . . . and been less dangerous in the long run. Nicola was standing there as the elevator door opened. Janette ran her nails lightly across his cheek in greeting, but paused, her bright and sarcastic welcome fading--his face was so drawn and pale. It was obvious he hadn't eaten in some time. Quickly, her eyes ranged around the room--there were even mortals there now, of all shapes and sizes. Couldn't they see what he was doing to himself? Without a second thought, she lifted a red ribboned bottle from the case as Alma passed and pressed it into his hands. "You fed me, I'm returning the favor," she said softly. "The refrigerator, Alma," she called, over her shoulder. Nicola took the bottle, but moved past her, following Alma. Mortals scattered before the vampires, if they had the energy. Natalie Lambert, who'd been sitting on a leather chair near that snippy redhead, rose to her feet and headed toward the kitchen. Chin high, Janette ignored all of them and followed Nicola. As he moved to put the bottle in the icebox, she caught his arm. "Nicola, you're hungry. Feed." "I'm fine." Again, he moved to put the bottle away, but her fingers wrapped around his arm, holding him in place. In a voice too low for mortals to hear, she whispered, "You're weak. You're no good to them like this. And if you don't feed soon, you'll be a danger." Those blue eyes met hers, suddenly fearful and she nodded, gesturing over her shoulder with her manicured nails. "I don't think you want an 'incident', no?" Nicola looked away quickly. "Don't tell me I'm too late?" asked Janette, but when he turned his head sharply, his denial on his lips, she heard the slightest sound from upstairs . . . and smiled. "Aaaah, not you. That other one--the new one." "Nothing happened." Nicola wrenched the bottle from her hand and slammed it into the refrigerator, then closed the door. Alma moved out of his way, posing seductively against one of the kitchen counters. Shaking her head, Janette followed Nicola, then let her eyes roam the room. She chanced upon the redhead again, then caught Nicola looking in the woman's direction. "But something have. And something --to the one upstairs. This fixation with mortals can only lead to disaster." Her voice had been louder than she intended, several of the mortals were watching her. Natalie Lambert stood before her, arms crossed. "You have mortals working with you." " me," corrected Janette. "They know their place. As I know mine." She shot a sharp glance at the redhead, as if daring her to repeat her accusation of the evening before. Then she looked over at Nicola again, saw the depth of his pallor, the way he looked around the room, as if not knowing where to rest his eyes. Janette took a step closer to Natalie and said softly, "Get him to feed. Outside, if he doesn't want to disappoint his groupies, show them what he is. But if he doesn't feed soon, you'll have a problem. And it won't be the one upstairs who attacks one of these pretties." She drifted away, back to join Alma. Natalie moved to Nicola, surprising him--not so odd since his concentration was so divided--and taking his arm. She whispered to him, her eyes going toward the refrigerator. Janette merely smiled and looked away, knowing that Natalie would succeed where she couldn't. It didn't matter to her. There were times when she agreed with LaCroix, Nicola denied himself, denied what he was, too often. It seemed amusing that a mere mortal could convince him to feed, when an older, dearer vampire . . . companion could not. And how it must rankle that stoic Dr. Lambert, to tell him to do just the opposite of what she had told him so many times before . . . . "Are we staying?" asked Alma. "For a while," said Janette. She glanced around the room again, at the number of mortals who followed Nicola, or Natalie, or no-one in particular. She saw many of their eyes light as he passed--yes, he could still do that even to her, just as he had for so many centuries. And, just as throughout those centuries, he never seemed to notice. Not unless the interest was returned. Not unless he was . " Maybe I should go check on the new guy?" asked Alma. She glanced upward, toward the second floor. "You'll stay here until I say so," snapped Janette. She watched Natalie guide Nicola to the refrigerator, then take out the bottle--wrong one, dear . . . he prefers the 'red' ribbon vintage--and press it into Nicola's hand. He corrected her mistake quickly. They conversed together in tones that were not low enough for Janette to hear. "--Back stairs, then?" pressed Natalie. And after a moment's pause, Nicola nodded. He walked away from Natalie, never raising his head as he passed Janette and Alma, then slipped out the door to the back stairs, closing it behind him. "It's boring here," whined Alma. Janette smiled as she met Natalie's eyes. The mortal turned away. "Oh, I find it amusing," she whispered. "More fun than I've had in a long time . . . ." ------------------------ SusanG2522@aol.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 03:02:48 -0500 From: TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC.PHYSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: FKWARSII--The Pause That Refreshes? Nick walked down the back stairs quietly. It was a relief to be away from the mortals. And he _was_ hungry. He pulled the cork out with his teeth, tossed it aside, and upended the bottle as he walked. He felt his eyes change as the liquid ran down his throat. He finished the bottle in seconds. He heard a noise near his car and his senses came alert. There was a woman standing there in the faint light of the garage--the married redhead, Sandra Gray. Her heart was racing and he realized with a start that his eyes were still changed and his fangs extended. He turned away to hit the light switch, composing his features back to normal. Then he turned back to her and said, "What are you doing here?" Her eyes flickered to the empty bottle he still held. He set it on a nearby bench. Had she been watching him drink it? "I--I just wanted to get away from all the people for a while." "So did I," said Nick. What _was_ she doing here? She had not given the others her affiliation, although her husband was a representative of the Die- Hards. Was she spying for LaCroix? He approached her. Her pulse was still elevated. Her temperature rose too. He frowned. "I'm--sorry." She licked her lips and added, "It must be hard for you having so many mortals around." Again Nick was reminded of his stripper dreams. He pushed those thoughts away. He halted his steps within a few feet of where she stood next to the driver's car door. "Why are you here?" "I told you. Oh, you mean--" She paused and brushed her hair back from her face nervously. "I--just needed to know it was real," she said. "And now?" "I don't know. Try to help." "Who?" He edged closer to her, watching her intently. "Why you of course!" Her body flared its sincerity. "Don't tell me you're a Knightie." She nodded, her face flushing. 'Not another one,' thought Nick, looking away. He leaned up against the side of his car and sighed. "Why do you all bother? I never asked for any followers." He didn't expect an answer, so was a bit surprised when Sandra said, "Because you're basically good. Because you're trying to hang on to your humanity instead of succumbing to--the beast." He looked at her. Her face flushed a deeper shade of red and she looked away. Nick pushed away from the car. "You should go home," he said. He turned to the stairs. "Why won't you let anyone else help you except Natalie?" said the woman in a stronger voice than she had used before. "Why can't you accept that other people could care about what happens to you?" Nick turned back to her. "Mrs. Gray, this is not some game. _I_ am a vampire. So is LaCroix. There is _real_ danger here." "I'm sure no one knows that better than Cousin John!" said Sandra. Nick frowned. "Why don't you _lead_ us instead of trying to protect us? We came here to _help_! You should be willing to take some responsibility!" Suddenly she seemed a bit shocked by her outburst and said, "Sorry." "No, you're right. I _should_ act." He paused. "But I can't let what happened to John happen to anyone else. You do understand that." "Sure," she said, dropping her gaze, which had turned cold. She headed for the stairs. Nick slumped back against the car and started thinking. (Will a stranger's talk help Nick to come to any decisions to act? Maybe time will tell...) --Sandra Gray --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 02:51:46 -0500 From: "Sharon S. Scott" Subject: FK War II: Up on the Rooftop, Nick, Nick, Nick I couldn't take it any more. The loft reminded me of one of those television news segments showing the aftermath of a natural disaster--a flood, an earthquake, a tornado. Ivy was still trying to get the scrambled data off the laptop; Valerie was in a deep sleep on the couch; people were sacked out all over the loft. Alma was looking bored; Natalie was dead on her feet; Janette was nowhere to be seen; and Nick looked like hell. I was too nervous to sleep, and I'd already gnawed all my fingernails down to the quick. I decided to try the roof, in hope that the night air would clear my head. I trudged up the stairs and looked around for the access door to the roof. Found it, finally, around a corner I'd never seen on "Forever Knight." And, as I should have known, it was stout, and it was locked. Frustration got the better of me, and I put my palms against the door and leaned my forehead against the cool metal. I wanted out. Now. "Great minds ... " Nick's voice startled me. And it didn't help that he'd snuck up behind me so quietly that I hadn't heard him. But I'd recognize that voice anywhere. I just didn't have the energy or the will to turn and face him, so I remained where I was. "What mind? The mind went a few hours ago--now the body's about had it, too. It's been a long weekend." That was an understatement. "You wouldn't happen to have the key, would you?" "No." "Great. Does that mean you don't have the key with you, or that you don't have a key, period?" "I mean there isn't a key. Look to your left and you'll see a number pad. All you have to do is punch in the code." I tried to remember if we'd ever figured out all the numbers in his code. I didn't think so, but thought wasn't one of my best qualities at the moment. "*You* punch in the code. It's your door." "I will, if you'll move out of the way and hold this." I didn't think I wanted to know what *this* was. But I was afraid I was about to find out. I turned around and took the bottle and wine glass from him. He punched in the code, and as the door popped open, took the glass and bottle back, and motioned for me to go first. The air outside was warm and humid, but there was a breeze, and I finally felt like I could catch my breath again. "It's nice out here. And quiet." I walked over to the brick ledge at the edge of the roof and looked over. "Not a great view of the city, but the moon is beautiful." "The moon is always beautiful. Especially when it's full, like tonight." A line from a well-known movie came to mind, and I couldn't help but smile. "If you could just conjure up some wolves to howl at it, one or the other of us could utter those famous words about the children of the night and the music they make." "Have you ever actually heard a pack of wolves howling? It's not a pretty sound." "Another illusion shattered. Oh well. But, if wolves sound anything like coyotes, I'll have to agree." Nick put the wine glass down on the ledge and pulled the cork out of the bottle. With his teeth, of course. And then threw the cork across the roof. "Do you always open bottles that way?" "It's easier than trying to find a corkscrew." He poured the dark liquid into the glass and set the bottle down. "Salud. I'd ask you to join me, but ..." "No thanks." I shuddered at the thought of trying to swallow something that thick, and cold to boot. "I'll stick to Diet Coke, thank you very much indeed." "Would you like a Coke? I think there are some cans left downstairs, somewhere in those mountains of food. I could go ... " "Thanks, but I'm fine." Nicotine might help. I pulled out my last pack and lit up. "Those things will kill you." "You have to die of something. Everybody does." Well, that wasn't quite right, given the circumstances. "Mortals, at least." That wasn't right, either. A look of pain crossed his face, and he refilled his wine glass and took a long drink. "That's what has me worried. All these mortals, here, at my place, where they're in danger. They're perfect targets for LaCroix." I took a drag and considered. "Nick, I don't think LaCroix's the only problem we have right now." "Explain." "I watch the show. On tape now, but I watch it. I know a bit about your relationship with Janette. And, Nick, I think she's the biggest problem here." "You know nothing about my ... relationship ... with her. Nothing." Now I'd made him angry. "I'm sorry--but *we* think we do." "Who's *we*?" "All of us on the list. All of us who watch the show. And I have to tell you, Nick, we've discussed you and Janette. Often." He didn't look happy about that. "Sorry. It's the nature of the beast." Now he looked confused. I explained, "The beast of ... fandom. We discuss everything about the show in excruciatingly minute detail." He decided not to pursue that train of thought. "Whatever you say." He refilled his glass again. "But whatever relationship Janette and I have is not the point. I've got a building full of humans that have to be protected. Not from Janette--she's not going to hurt them. But LaCroix will, if he can. And she's the one who put them in danger--she started the war, by telling LaCroix about the mail, and about the database. Why did she do that? What did she hope to gain, other than my enmity? Why did she tell him?" "Don't ask me. Ask her." "I have. She hasn't given me an answer. Yet. But time is running out. She's going to tell me, one way or another." He drained the wine glass, sat it down very carefully on the ledge, and headed for the door. I didn't know if I wanted to be around for this confrontation. ------------------------------------ Sharon S. scotts@baylor.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------- ------------------Sunday, July 10th------------------------------ ----------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Sun, 10 Jul 1994 09:28:35 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKwars2: Just a' lookin' for a home Small hours of Sunday, July 10th, a street in Toronto: Lisa looked over her shoulder one last time. She had rounded the corner from LaCroix's apartment building. As far as she could tell no one was following her. Better put the gun back in her handbag before Murphy's law caused a police car to prowl past and spot it. Canada's gun laws were extremely strict, and she lacked the skill with which Alma had hypnotically dissuaded the cop earlier. Had it really been just eight hours ago? It seemed a lifetime. Perhaps it was. Cousin Lisa's lifetime, anyway. Lisa shivered, although the Toronto night was warm and muggy. Trust her to follow her impulses straight out of the frying pan into the fire. No longer a Cousin, no longer infatuated with LaCroix, she was as unfamilied now in this subworld as in mundane life. Would the Die-Hards have her back? She'd been a Die-Hard before and she *had* continued secretly researching for Nat in her library's unusually strong occult collection in Rare Books. Maybe the Natpack? But much as she admired and respected Nat, Lisa wasn't sure she really belonged in it. For one thing, there'd been too many times when she would have told Nick in words of one syllable not to take his angst out on her. She turned another corner and headed east. Did the Toronto subway run this late? She couldn't remember. Oh, well, *solvitur ambulando.* The Latin tag surfaced from the grab bag of her mind: "It is solved by walking." Should she go and wake up Don Bassingthwaite? No, he was sitting out this war, and it wasn't fair to put him in the line of fire if LaCroix recovered from the Polidorian collywobbles more quickly than she anticipated. Not to mention that she'd never tried trespassing on Don's good nature in person in the middle of the night. He must have a temper somewhere. Oh dear, was that another street she'd crossed without waiting for the light? Tanya Huff was right. They didn't call this city Toronto the Good for nothing. She hadn't seen a single car. Not the FoD's, not with the allergy to garlic that had made it so easy to sympathize with Larry after his turn. She hoped Larry had carried out his intention of running for cover if she distracted LaCroix, but with his tendency to immobilize himself in contemplation of programming problems at the worst possible moments, Larry's whereabouts were anybody's guess. Let's see: was Gateway Lane to the left or to the right? Lisa had an almost supernatural lack of any sense of direction. Might as well go right, if only for the symbolism. She wouldn't make a good Knightie: it might be too tempting to give Nick the swift kick in the pants which she sometimes thought Natalie should prescribe. Good! Lisa recognized the name on the street sign. Gateway was only a couple of blocks away. The ghost of a laugh crossed her lips at the idea of trying the Ravenettes. Janette had never actually attacked her, but the two of them together invariably reminded bystanders of a pair of cats in unclaimed territory. Wait a minute. Cats? If the FOSsiLs got back into the fray, perhaps Sidney's was the proper faction for an incorrigible cat person. She didn't know if any of the Feline Faction would be at Nick's loft, but maybe that was where she'd settle in. 101 Gateway Lane was across the street now. Lisa squared her shoulders. Had they persuaded Nick to turn John Dencoff? Please let it be so! Lisa hadn't heard of the attack until after LaCroix had forced the doorknob of an absent neighbor's apartment and set Larry to work resetting his accounts at Ontario Hydro and the other utilities. Fleetingly, she wondered just how old LaCroix really was. She hadn't even been able to guess at some of the languages he'd cursed Larry in for bothering to argue with the credit departments instead of simply hacking into the computers. One of the other Cousins had casually mentioned that John had been murdered merely for displaying a little creativity about Hazel the Rabbit. Lisa had forced herself to laugh, but at the first possible moment she had crept out to the park where the body had been left. A new spasm of nausea passed over her at the memory of Lacroix's sally. John hadn't been in the park. Margaret had been a little shaken herself, enough to let the location slip. A trail of blood had petered out in the direction of Nick's loft. Please, please let him have made it there in time! Here was the intercom. Lisa bit her lips and pressed the button. "Nick, it's Lisa McDavid. Please, may I come up? I really did it. And besides, I've brought back your gun." Lisa McDavid, unaffiliated d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 08:47:15 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Lisa finishes what Alma has be-gun Just after Sharon Himmanen's arrival at Nick's loft: "What?" No doubt about it, Nick had just produced a yelp even if the Knighties would prefer to think of him simply as shouting. "What do you mean my gun?" Nat, following as usual calmly in the wake of Nick's agitation, walked over to the intercom. "Come on up, Lisa." The elevator opened and Lisa, in tears, fell into Nat's arms. The doctor patted her shoulder. Glaring at Nick, Nat said, "Come on, Nick, let's leave the snarls to LaCroix, ok? Lisa, I'm going to tell them." The librarian nodded assent. Natalie continued, "Lisa has been working with me all along, even at the height of her connection with LaCroix. The University of South Carolina has a strange collection of rare books and items on the occult. If you remember, that was why she was attacked in the first war." Nick stood in front of the two women. "For the record, I've known about this all along. It wasn't until Nat explained to me about Polidori's Syndrome that I agreed to let Lisa become involved with LaCroix. But, Lisa, what is this about my gun? It's right over here -- Ohmigawd!" Another yelp/shout, depending on your orientation. Nick stared at the place on the counter where the police special had been. Wincing at the number of decibels which were assaulting her ears, Lisa shoved her oversized handbag at Nick. "Alma said you'd sent it to me in case the Cousins tried to stop me." Natalie interrupted, "You really did it? Our emergency plan?" "In spades," Lisa told her. "Old White-Hair's probably still screaming even as we speak. He's always been greedy; he got two gulps." She shivered and almost fell. Nat said sharply, "Nick!" The detective hastily put the gun down (this time in his line of sight) and caught Lisa before she hit the ground. Nick set her down, unconscious, on the sofa where John had been. Nat picked up her medical bag and hurried over. "Is she dead?" Sharon Himmanen asked. Her tone could best be described as inscrutable. Janette looked up from verbally lashing Alma. "Of course not! Oh, that's right, you can't hear. She's got a heartbeat and she's breathing." She turned back to Alma, in French. Even the non-Francophones understood some of the words, such as "imbecile." At the sofa Natalie pulled an afghan up over Lisa and motioned to Scottie. "Get something with a high sugar content from the FoDs' supplies for her will you, Sharon? Nick, how much is a couple of gulps?" "For LaCroix? Maybe two pints." He transferred the gun to its holster and began to buckle it on. "Ok, then, she'll be all right. We'll just let her rest until she's up to eating." --------------------------------------------------------------- Lisa McDavid, unconscious and unaffiliated d020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 19:22:22 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Meeting the Gang [part 1/2]----------------------- Meeting the Gang Sunday, early morning "Well, this is it!" Jennie looked up at the buzzer uncertainly and wondered if she would be getting in over her head, but she had sent a message to Valerie the night before and received no answer. The last thing Valerie had said was to meet at Nicks loft. There _had_ been a message from Tanaquil this morning that she was in as a bartender at the Raven but that would be closed for the day. For lack of anything better to do, Jennie decided to head for the loft and try to connect with whatever Natpackers were there. Resolutely she reached to press the buzzer. A weary sounding Natalie answered and buzzed Jennie in when she identified herself. The scene that greeted her in the apartment was vaguely reminiscent of the last day of a con. Giving Natalie a hug by way of greeting, she realized that Valerie and Nick were the only two other people in the loft she recognized. Actually, she was pretty certain that was "Cousin" Lisa over there on the couch - shed seen pictures of her - but what was she doing here?!? She turned to Nick, who looked distracted and *very* tired. "Sorry to pop in on you like this, but this was where Id been told to meet everyone. I thought it was best to look here first. Anyhow, its really nice to meet you!" <_Really_ nice> she thought, "Jennie!" Valerie cut in, "I thought you were supposed to come in Friday. What happened?" Amazingly, Valerie still seemed to be possessed of a boundless store of energy despite the travel to get here and being up all night, from the looks of things. Jennie filled the group in on the investigations of the two FBI agents, adding that she thought they must still have poor Brian in custody. She added that Agent Mulder seemed to have an avid interest in the paranormal, remembering the magazine. "So what's been happening up here?" she asked, and Valerie took her off to fill her in on events. ----- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com --- This is war, not agriculture. --- [end of part 1/2]----------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 10:41:14 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Abrogating the Abarat "She's coming round." Nat checked Lisa's pulse. The librarian opened her eyes and tried to sit up. Sharon Scott, true fellow Southerner, had rummaged through the FoDs supplies and come up with a chocolate moon pie and an RC Cola. Natalie barely restrained her. "You keep your head down. Here, Scottie, sit down on the sofa and feed them to her." The rest of the room continued buzzing -- until suddenly Sharon Scott said sharply, "Does LaCroix know that?" In the suddenly attentive silence, Lisa answered weakly. "I don't know. Probably not, because I don't think he's ever tried it." "What hasn't LaCroix tried?" Nick's voice was tired and there was a distinct droop to his shoulders. "Mass producing vampire zombies. There's a spell for it in the Abarat. And Nick --" The ex-crusader interrupted, "I've just realized -- Lisa, you don't read Sanskrit?" "No. Larry's software translates and transliterates," Natalie reminded him. "Nick, she needs to rest." Nick, in detective mode, ignored the interpolation. "Is Larry still with LaCroix?" "I don't know. I'm through pulling Larry out of trouble. Scottie, are there any more moon pies?" Lisa tried to sit up again. "You've had enough," said Nat, pushing her gently back into place. "You don't want to nauseate yourself on top of the blood loss. Besides, remember your diet. Nick, what does Larry have to do with it?" "Because he can give LaCroix a copy of the software. LaCroix doesn't read Sanskrit either. He wouldn't know about that spell. I don't even want to think about what will happen if he finds out." Nick reached for his jacket. "I think we're going to have to steal the Abarat from the University." Nat smiled tenderly at him. Sharon Scott murmured, "And then you can be cured even if the copy can't be used." "No!" Lisa struggled wildly with Nat. Nick rushed to help hold her down. "If Nick uses the spell, someone else will have to become a vampire!" Shock brought everything to a standstill. Nick and Nat forgot to hang on. Lisa held onto the couch for support. "It's all in there. Vampirism can't just be destroyed. It will go into the nearest mortal as a host if the spell is used." "But you didn't become a vampire when you cured Alexandra,." Scottie objected. "Why?" "I don't know why. Maybe Polidori's makes me immune from being brought across." Lisa tried to stand up, wavered, and pitched to the floor unconscious again. ------------------------------------------ Lisa McDavid, Unconscious once more and unaffiliated D020214@univscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 11:51:27 -0500 From: "Sharon S. Scott" Subject: The South Shall Rise Again "Lisa. Lisa. Wake up." She had to wake up. We needed to know everything *she* knew about the Abarat. I shook her shoulder again. "Lisa. Talk to me. Nick needs us. You've got to wake up." Absolutely no response. "Lisa, the Library of Congress is on fire!" That ought to wake a cataloger up if anything could. Her eyelids fluttered, but then stilled again. Drastic measures were called for. "Does anybody have a Dr. Pepper?" They all looked at me as if I were crazy. Valerie asked "What?" "A Dr. Pepper, a Dr. Pepper!" Apparently not. "Okay, how about some pecan pie?" (pronounced puh-cahn, not pee-can--trust me on this) Natalie looked disgusted. "Pie? You're worried about a piece of pie at a time like this? Have you lost your mind?" "You told me she needed sugar. If RC and moon pies don't bring her around, Dr. Pepper & pecan pie ought to." Nick stood staring down at us. "Do whatever it takes, but get her awake. We've got to find out what she knows." "You really want me to ... do ... that?" Nick looked at me, then back down at Lisa. "Whatever it takes, I said. Do it now." "Okay, but you're taking the blame for this. She'll hate me for it." "Do it." I looked back down at Lisa. I hated to do this to a fellow cataloger and a cat person, but ... "Lisa--Alexandra's got Java! She's going to hurt him! You've got to wake up and help him!" Her eyes flew open, and there was venom in them as she jumped up to hunt Alexandra down. Nobody hurt her Siamese cat. Nobody. Especially not that bimbo. --------------------------------------------------------- Sharon Scott scotts@baylor.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 15:38:53 EDT From: Lisa McDavid Subject: FKWars2: Lions and tigers and Javas, oh my! Lisa swayed gently, frowning at Sharon Scott. Then she began to laugh. "Oh, no -- poor Alexandra!" Nick said, "She's hysterical," and reached forward to steady her, but the former Cousin eluded him and made for the FoDs supply, where she grabbed a Hershey bar before Nat could prevent her. "No, I'm not. Java always loses control of his bowels when he's scared -- Alexandra will be too busy dropping him and being grossed out." Lisa munched on the candy. "Besides, Alexandra is afraid of cats." Lisa's head jerked up. "You were just trying to shock me awake, weren't you?" "Sorry, but somebody had to do it." Sharon absent-mindedly picked up a pack of potato chips and under Lisa's pernicious influence began snacking herself. "Nat, will she be ok?" Nick asked. The doctor, never having been a compulsive eater, shrugged unsympathetically. "Look, Lisa, this is important. Where did you get the copy of the Abarat you had on the laptop?" "Didn't Alma tell you?" Sharon said, "She's still woozy; she must be! Lisa, honey, Alma is about as reliable as a string and two tin cans." "Oh. Well, Don Bassingthwaite came across LaCroix's name as an added entry in the OPAC --" Lisa helped herself to Sharon's chips. "The what?" asked Nat. "Online public access catalog," Scottie translated. "Yeah." Lisa crunched another potato chip. "I got curious and telnetted up. LaCroix was an a.e.." Now completely on a toot, Lisa opened a can of Pepsi -- the kind with lots of caffeine and sugar. Everyone stared at Sharon, who said, "added entry." "Right. He was listed as the donor of the famous copy of Dracula with interpolated pornographic text and plates that Aubrey Beardsley gave to Stoker for April Fools' Day. Only, I know LaCroix, and if he had had that, he'd never have parted with it. So when I got here, I hurried over to the library, and there it was. The Abarat." Lisa hiccupped. Sharon shook her head. "But how did the cataloger ever mistake an ancient Sanskrit manuscript for a 19th century printed book in English?" "I don't -- hic -- know. My guess is that LaCroix presented it in person and had a little talk with the cataloger." Lisa suddenly put the can down. Her face took on a distinctly greenish tinge. "Nat?" Natalie strode over to her researcher's side. "I knew it. Here, it'll be easier if you do it in the sink." She led the tottery librarian over to the kitchenette. Sharon Scott stared at Nick. "Do you know what this means?" "Yes," said Nick, looking tragic and heroic and adorable all at the same time, "LaCroix knows where the Abarat is. He's known it all along." --------------------------------- Lisa McDavid, Conscious, Queasy, and still Unaffiliated but writing like a Knightie. Just my luck that Nick got his arms around me (last time when he carried me) and I had to be out cold. d020214@unviscvm.csd.scarolina.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 16:54:47 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR2: The Enforcer arrives [part 1/2]----------------------- The Enforcer heard all the commotion inside Nick's loft. So Lisa got the book and they they can use it to make Nick human. Well...wait until they realize that it's what they think it is but something far...worse. Nick would rather live with his curse than pass it on to someone else - even if by doing so he could be "cured". He's got that odd chivalrous knight code of bullshit he is so . God, why am I even ! I must be on drugs. Or crazy. Or . I knocked on the door. The room went dead silent for a moment before the door opened and I was face to face with Nick Knight. Nick's eyes widened for a moment. He I wasn't mortal. He also in that way we do that I was older, far older, than he was. And far more dangerous. >From within a familiar female voice - Natalie's - inquired, "Who's there?" "What are doing here?" he asked in a harsh whisper. "Let me in and I'll tell you." I could feel his eyes boring into my back as I entered the loft. His mortal allies, the majority of them female (!) were all staring at me. I guess I didn't exactly blend clad the way I was in leather biker gear from head to toe but it gets freaking cold at fifty thousand feet and I don't care if I am undead - I get cold and I like it. I sensed there were others of my kind there. Janette was eyeing me quizzically and the newest member of LaCroix's "family" was watching me from the middle of Nick's staircase. "Well?" Nick demanded as I removed my jacket. I gave him a wry half-smile and sauntered into the loft. John, the new vampire, moved down the steps slowly watching me as though I possessed the secrets of the universe or something. He also looked . "Nick, I thought you'd be a much better host," I began eyeing John. "Here, kid," I said tossing him a bottle from out of my knapsack. "Have one on me." [end of part 1/2] ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 19:22:22 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Meeting the Gang [part 2/2]----------------------- Meeting the Gang Sunday, early morning Jennie looked at the young man who'd just arrived with interest. Not bad looking, and he wore the leather well, but he'd sent some rather *unpleasant* shivers up her spine when he'd entered. She was willing to bet that was human blood he'd tossed to John, too. She decided it would be a good idea to remain where she was in the corner and try not to attract too much attention... ------------------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 17:43:10 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR2 - Enforcer arrives pt. 2 John caught the bottle effortlessly and he what lay inside. He had the cork off the bottle drained before Nick could stop him. Knight glared at me. "We want him to come !" he hissed. "Not make him a . Not make him like ." "What makes you think I'm so bad?" "You're an Enforcer. I know what are. I also know who are, or, at least, who you were. I don't know what you call yourself in century." "I only changed the surname," I told him. "Had to. Just like you did. Although up here in Canada, you could have still used your name. Brabant is so French, don't you agree?" "Why are you here?" "Clue one," I began as I gestured around me. "I'm alone. Enforcers usually travel in pairs. I'm solo on this mission. A risk, yes, and had I been going to see anyone other than you I wouldn't have dared to take such a risk. But I you would at least hear me out before reaching for the stake...." "Get to the point." "Daniel's alive. And, even though his creation was a violation of the Code, he won't pay for LaCroix's crime." Janette perked up at this point. "Have you seen Daniel?" "Not recently, no. But it was because of that he lives. I lied to the Ancient and told him that I destroyed him so his little chapter in our Code book would be closed ." I turned back to face Nick. "I'm not a fiend," I said. "I about your little War. It's cute. And I haven't played like a child in, well, let's just say it's been a while." "I don't you to with us," Nick stated. He sighed adding in a tone less cutting, "Look, I am grateful you spared Daniel. But you are still one of ." "I'm off-duty," I said. "So all this will be, well, off the record, so to speak." "I don't care." "You'd rather I went and played with the Cousins?" "LaCroix is more your type." I smiled slightly. "Nah, I'm not interested in playing with him. Not when he's getting into all this X-Files weirdness. As if aren't strange enough!" I glanced over at John, whose eyes now shined red gold - the after-effects of having drunk his first meal - and said, "I've got more in my satchel. Enough for us all." Janette gave me a wicked smile. She I had the stuff with me, not that cowpiss Nick lived on. UGH! She also seemed to like what she saw holding the bag. I wasn't what you'd call really good-looking (I kind of resemble Val Kilmer as he looked in ) but if you are into that cowboy swaggering outdoorsy style of looks then I guess I am totally hot. The other women in the room looked skeptical. The girl on the sofa - Lisa - was sitting propped up on her elbow eyeing me very skeptically. She asked Nick, "What's going on? Who is this person?" Nick eyed me carefully. "No one you'd want to know," he said as he remembered our last encounter. His expression went blank for a split second as the memories flooded back... (And all the fans took a drink because they knew he was having a flashback.) The room was swathed in red - the color of blood - because that was how the Ancient liked it. Titus was a man of few words and little patience but he a reputation for being a just man. Carlotta had broken the Code and it was too late for her - she'd already seen the sun and taken her own life - but Nick found it hard to believe the Ancient could have ordered the death of an entire family for the crime of one man. The Enforcers who had meted out the Ancient's justice and drank the blood of those innocent children stood in silence watching Nick as he approached the seated judge. Titus had the lean hungry look of a wolf and he always kept himself just a hungry so he wouldn't feel sated and thereby lose his edge. He eyed Nick like a bug under a microscope and asked icily, "Why are you here?" "I...I need to know why-" "She broke the Code. She knew the penalty. No one can know about us. You are old enough to understand the reason. You have seen what the Inquisition did to us! Now more than ever we need to remain hidden." "They killed children!" Nick declared hotly. He pointed at the Enforcer whose expression was almost mocking and said, " drank the blood of children. Is what we are? Is that our Code?" Titus looked at the man who stood at his right arm - the one Nick was glaring at so furiously one would think his eyes were flames and whispered so only he could hear, "Talk to him, Ron. He needs to be ." But Nick had heard the name - Ron - and that name and that face was one he'd never forget. Nor would he forget how the Enforcer had "calmed him down". He had nightmares about that.... "Nick?" Natalie's voice brought him back to the present. "Do you have another supporter or is this man leaving?" Nick turned to face me. "You can stay under condition. That want you here. I can't be objective." "Fine," I replied. "Let your friends decide if they want a master tactician who can kick butt to stick around or if they want me to go back to Jersey. I was given the weekend off, so it's your call. I am willing to abide by your decision." "If they decide to allow you to remain, you have to take orders from , understand?" I nodded agreement. "Good. Wait upstairs while we make our decision." As I went upstairs I smiled to myself. Nick couldn't be clueless or did he forget we old vampires have sharp ears.... ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 17:51:48 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKWars 2: Beating a hasty retreat Sharon took one look at the newest arrival, the guy clad in leather who'd just tossed a bottle of presumably human blood to John and decided the time had come to beat a hasty retreat. She slipped quietly over to the stairwell door and was out and on her way before anyone noticed. She had to get out of there--she didn't care if LaCroix sent the hounds of hell after her. She'd square things w/ Nat and Valerie later. Now, she figured she'd head over to the Raven. Maybe Susan Garrett was in town. They could take in the evening showing of THE SHADOW . . . Sharon Himmanen shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 12:48:39 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: The Vote ---- The Vote (Sunday morning) The enforcer disappeared upstairs with an unnatural quietness, and the room he left behind was just as silent. Jennie thought, sinking even deeper into her corner. She realized she was babbling, even if only in her thoughts, and forced herself to breathe slowly. She thought irrelevantly and almost giggled aloud. Funny how she always seemed to react to stress that way. The silence stretched out; nobody wanted to be the first to speak. Finally Nick cleared his throat, "Well, you heard the man," he shrugged. "I, ah, think you all can tell what he is and you already know what I think of him...but it _is_ your choice." He looked uneasily around the room until Natalie stood up beside him. "All right, lets not make this difficult. Everyone who's in favor of him staying raise their hands." She looked expectantly at the assorted faces gathered in the loft. People glanced uneasily about them, and a few looked like they were considering raising a hand, but in the end nobody moved. "How about everyone who's opposed?" A few hands shot up confidently, several others following more hesitantly. "I take it the rest of you are abstaining?" Scattered nods. "Okay, then," she turned to Nick, "it looks like we agree with you. Will you go up and tell him?" "No need," the enforcer said from the staircase, "I assumed this would be the outcome." John stood next to him, still looking unsteady and nervous. "They *are* your followers, after all. Well just take our leave, then. Don't worry, I can take good care of our friend here!" Several people muttered in what sounded like protest, but nobody moved to stop the two as they headed for the elevator. As the two came to where Nick stood, he put out a hand to John. "Are you sure?" he queried, "he doesn't exactly follow my philosophy, you know." John met Nicks eyes squarely. "Yes," he said quietly, "but he *will* teach me what I need to know without misgivings. Besides, I wasn't ever actually a follower of yours. I think I should go with him." Nick stood out of the way, and the elevator doors closed with almost disturbing finality. ----------------------------------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 19:29:16 EDT From: Ronni Katz Subject: FKWAR: Enforcer's departure The Enforcer descended the steps as noiselessly as he had alighted them and put his knapsack back on. He raised an eyebrow quizzically at Nick saying, "I can't believe a former Crusader such as yourself could allow himself to fight a war without realizing who the enemy is." "What are you talking about?" Nick demanded. "You LaCroix is the one you should be fighting but there is another force at work here that all of you are ignoring." Jennie looked up. Her eyes for a split second met the Enforcer's and he game her a smile that at once fascinated yet frightened her. There was about the slender man that was alluring, but something told her that getting close to this man could be very hazardous to her health. But it would be a way to go! Jennie ignored the effect the Enforcer was having on her and asked, "Who is our enemy?" "My dear, if you wanted the benefit of my knowledge, you should have invited me to stay," he told her. Glancing over at John he added, "At least this new one won't lack for a education. God knows would have become of him if I had left him to be trained by , Nicholas." "He'd hold on to something know as his ," Nick retorted sharply locking eyes with the Enforcer. "And what has all this gotten you? Other than this roomful of lovely ladies, all of whom I would just love to get into your arms, if only for the most fleeting of moments, you're being - or rather to be human has only done one thing. It's made you !" And with that the Enforcer swatted Nick as one would a fly sending him sprawling. "Have your War and your little games with these pretty little flowers. John and I have more important matters to attend to." Although Nick was caught off-guard by the Enforcer, he was up and on his feet in seconds. It would have been quicker if he hadn't been so tired and hungry and he could tell when he looked into his opponent's eyes that the Enforcer why he'd been so slow to recover. Nick's eyes were glowing red-gold in anger for a brief moment and then he calmed himself. He ignored the Enforcer, whose eyes laughed mockingly at him although the rest of his face was impassive, and he approached John, "Are you sure you want this??" he queried looking genuinely concerned. "You he doesn't subscribe to my philosophy. He may make you...something other than you want to be." John met Nick's eyes squarely and replied, "I know, but he teach me what I need to know without misgivings. Besides, I was never actually a follower of yours, so I think it's best I go with him." John dared a glance at the Enforcer, whose only response was a single eyebrow raised in very Spockian fashion. He looked back at Nick and said simply, "He's a , Nick. That's what am now, too. I need to learn how to live like this I start thinking about it too much." Nick nodded and made no reply. He John would have plenty of time to get philosophical about his new lifestyle. Right now learning to survive would be paramount and, as much as he despised the Enforcer, that ancient creature was, if anything, a skilled survivalist. The Enforcer snapped his fingers and inclined his head to the door and John followed him out like a pup on the heels of his master without hesitation or a look backward. "I can't believe he walked out just like that," Jennie ventured as she emerged from her corner. She watched the elevator doors close with an almost disturbing finality and found herself wondering what would become of poor John. She gazed at Nick and he seemed to sense what was on her mind. "He'll be all right," Nick reassured her as well as himself. "now, I think it's time we got on to the matter at hand." "What do you think he meant by all that real enemy stuff?" "I'm not sure, Jennie. But I've got a sneaking suspicion he's trying to imply Jeanette and the Ravenettes might be up to something...." ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 17:19:01 -0600 From: John Dencoff Subject: FKWar2: Final Exit of John and the Enforcer As they stepped into the cool night air, John thought he could almost sense the nearness of the sunrise. Perhaps less than three or four hours away. That would be something else he would have to get used to: though he was immortal, the sun would destroy him in less than an instant. He looked warily to the man at his side...the Enforcer. How old was he, John wondered? Hundreds, perhaps thousands of years? "Young one, you *must* learn to stop staring at people. Mortals dislike it, and our kind has even less taste for it." he said as John averted his eyes. "You will need to learn many things about our people--our race, perhaps--in order to survive the millennia. An Enforcer I might be...as the younger ones call us, perhaps simply because we are so old that we always get what we want...but I have desires and dreams not so different from your own. We all wish to live." "I understand. I'll try not to stare. It's just that..." the words faltered. "I'm so old? Is that it? Well, you'll find that almost every vampire you meet will be older than you, John. What you have to keep in mind is that age does not necessarily constitute wisdom. Look at Nicolai and LaCroix, after all. Continuing their senseless plots against one another. Even letting mortals become engaged in their fray. I became involved in this "War" primarily because you were created." "Me, why? Because LaCroix took revenge on me for my betrayal by turning me into a vampire? Was that going against some sort of code or something?" he asked. As they walked along the street, the Enforcer became quiet, perhaps almost amused. "Call me Ron, John. I don't care to play LaCroix's games...all this is really quite hysterical, you know. I'm sure you don't think so, given your recent condition, but you'll see the humor of it one day." The Enforcer continued. "Yes, creating new vampires is not what one would call judicious in this day and age. What with videocameras and credit records...and the volumes and volumes of other senseless records these mortals inflict upon themselves. But still, it's not against any sort of code. Both Nick and LaCroix have created new members of the Blood. Some were less successful than others at making the adjustment." "But your case is special, John. You weren't created by LaCroix. He simply meant to teach you a lesson by draining you a few pints of your precious blood. Your condition was induced by the Abarat, an ancient tome of spells relating to...among other things...vampirism." "What?! I'm not following this at all." "Patience. I'm explaining." he retorted. "Your cousin Lisa used one of the spells in the Abarat to cure another vampire. But the way that *particular* spell works, the 'curse' must find its home in another human vessel. That vessel was you. As Lisa cured one person of vampirism, you--unknowingly--took on the curse." Realization began to sink in, if slowly. "I've been mad at LaCroix for nothing...it's all been one horrible misunderstanding." "Yep. Sorry, kid." he said, a smirk on his face. "All this fear of LaCroix, and he's probably not that upset with you at all. But don't start thinking you should take it out on anyone. Cousin Lisa had no way of knowing that the spell would possibly work that way." "Yes...that's true. Even she thought LaCroix had turned me." "Well, get over it. Time to move on. You're a vampire now whether you like it or not, and you need to learn a few things in order to survive your new condition. Then you can go apologize to LaCroix or whatever, and there won't be any misunderstandings after that. We'll all be one big happy family." then he burst into laughter. "What...what about a cure?" he asked quietly. "Cure for what? Vampirism? Don't be ridiculous. Unless you want to go get the Abarat and inflict it on someone else, there is *no* cure, John." "No...no, I couldn't do that." "Well, then. Let's go teach you how to fly, since it's just a few hours until daybreak. And we don't want you char-fried on your first birthday." "Fly? I can do that?" The Enforcer looked at John, then rolled his eyes and burst out laughing again. "You are almost *too* rare, John. 'Can I fly?' he says." HA! Then both of them took to the air, the Enforcer pulling John behind him. John E. Dencoff jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu ----------------------------------------------------------------- ------ Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 13:06:08 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: Arafats and Abarats and little vamps eat Ivy Ivy moved into the kitchen, it was quieter there. She was jumpy, too much so and it nearly cost Betsy. The Arafat had been uncovered, she'd been sure she'd felt it and Alma's slip only confirmed it. How long would the other's believe it was just a common mispronunciation of Abarat? And what if one of them knew the truth? She sighed. If only Nick could know truth. If only she dared tell. Still, the Arafat had touched sunlight and now she could only wait to see if it did good or evil. Bracing herself she walked back into the main room. The remaining people looked tired and wary. Natalie fussed over Betsy, reassuring both of them she was fine. *Which is lucky for a gal who's been crescent kicked by the daughter of ... * she didn't want to complete the thought. But she needed to and the truth needed to be told. She bee-lined for Nick, then altered her course and took Natalie's arm. "She's fine," Natalie said. "Good. Um, I need to talk to you." Natalie followed her out into the hallway. Kevin glanced at Ivy's exit but she signaled him she'd be right back. He took his turn fussing over Betsy and ignoring Nick staring oddly at his yarlmuka. Ivy closed the door. "What is it?" Natalie asked. "It's about Nick and ... coming back." Natalie's eyes flew wide open. "My father ... he .. he came across in the early 1900s and ... returned 30 years ago." "He came back across?" Natalie lit up like a firework on the fourth . "We have to tell Nick." She reached for the door but Ivy interposed herself. "There's more you need to know," Ivy told her. She subsided. "He didn't come back of his own free will." She gave a short sad laugh, "He's looking for someone likeminded, someone like LaCroix, to grant him his immortality again. The Arafat -- not Abarat -- was used to turn him. He killed his brother for making him mortal again and tried to destroy the Arafat. Failing to do that he hid it, buried it I think. I it, it's resurfaced. It will work, if we can find it." "We have to tell the others, those we can trust," Natalie said. Ivy got out of her way. "You tell them. If they still want to associate with the offspring of one as evil as LaCroix, well, I'm in for the fight, they know where to find me. Either way, I will do all I can to serve Nick." -------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 14:13:34 -0500 From: Jennie Hayes Subject: FK Wars 2: Moving On Moving On Jennie looked about the loft. If possible, the place looked even more like the last day of a con than before: People were draped over every available surface, talking with each other, sleeping or just staring at nothingness. There were food and caffeine-laced beverages all over the place (although she had to admit, the food was far better fare than *she* usually got at cons!) and to top it all off, she had that kind of "I'm not really here, I'm just dreaming this all" feeling she got when she hadn't slept much for a few days. She was still trying to process the days events so far. She thought back to the enforcer and shivered. The memory of the *smile* he gave her on his way out was all too vivid. She didn't think she wanted to deal with that just now. Instead, her thoughts turned to Janette, and what Nick had said as the enforcer left: >"What do you think he meant by all that real enemy stuff?" >"I'm not sure, Jennie. But I've got a sneaking suspicion he's trying to >imply Janette and the Ravenettes might be up to something...." Maybe that should be her next move. She remembered a message from Tanaquil that she was in at the Raven; perhaps she should head over there, just to check things out. Good thing she had all that black clothing; looked like she would need it. She wove her way through the crowded loft to speak quietly to Natalie. "Natalie, I'm going to push off now. I don't think I can do anything here, but I want to check on Tanaquil tomorrow and I need a few things. Heres the address where I'm staying and you can always leave e-mail for me if you need to get in touch." She held up a scrap of paper with scribbling all over it. "I should be able to get in touch with you if I need to, too." "Wait a minute, you're not planning anything dangerous, are you? I don't want any more casualties in this war, if we can avoid it." "Don't worry, all I'm planning now is to go to the Raven and observe. Ill be careful to dress appropriately and not do anything to attract attention. I don't even plan to make direct contact with anyone, just get the layout of the place." "Well, all right, but you still should take care." "Will do. Bye." ------------------------------------- Jennie jmhaye@skcla.monsanto.com ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Thu, 14 Jul 1994 18:53:26 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKWARS2: Delivery![part 1/2]-------------------------------- Delivery! Sharon Himmanen Shortly after I leave the loft--morning, July 10 She'd moved quickly about a block and a half from Nick's loft. Still in the warehouse district, she figured there wouldn't be much chance of flagging a cab until she got into a slightly more metropolitan area. So imagine her surprise when one pulled up along side her without warning. Slipping inside, she gave the cabbie, a young, non-descript man, the address for the Raven, and they pulled away from the curve. She leaned back, closing her eyes and breathing a small sigh of relief. *Anything* was better than being in that loft, especially after the Enforcer showed up--too many people. a new vampire, both he and Nick looking a little ragged from not having fed w/ so many mortals around, Lisa McDavid's collapse and revelations . . . A shrill ringing drew her out of her reverie. The cab driver reached down to the seat beside him and flipped open a portable phone. He listened for several seconds, nodded, then handed the phone back over the seat to her without looking around. "It's for you," he said in a monotone. Numbly she took it from him and held it to her ear. She already knew who it was. "Well?" LaCroix asked. "Things were getting a little strange," she stammered. "Hmmm. The Abarat?" She hesitated. While Lisa's arrival had drawn everyone's attention away from her, it had also prevented her from checking on the laptop copy. Should she tell LaCroix what Lisa said about the Abarat? "I've only been there a short while. I couldn't get close enough to check on it." "Then why did you leave?" "I told you, things got weird. Lisa McDavid showed up, then an Enforcer showed up, and he gave John Dencoff a bottle of blood. That's when I left." "An Enforcer. This is very interesting. And John is there as well!" LaCroix chuckled loudly. "Nicholas is a FOOL! Keeping John Dencoff there with all those mortals. Something's bound to happen sooner or later." There was a long pause on the line, then LaCroix spoke again. "Well, I can't say that I blame you for wanting to get out of there. Self-preservation is an admirable quality as long as it doesn't get in the way of business. You can ask Janette about that sometime. "But, I find myself wondering if you aren't having second thoughts about this. You should talk to John Dencoff about the fate of people who fail me," he said, his voice deliberate. Every hair on the back of her neck stood up at his words. "In any case, I want you back there, but there's no reason why you can't utilize your time away from there wisely. It's likely no one will notice your absence with all the activity and if they do I'm sure you can come up with something reasonable." "I probably shouldn't stay away too long," she said. Suddenly the loft wasn't looking so bad after all. "Just long enough to start work on the tasks I assigned you," he said. "With Lisa's defection, that makes a Knightie, a Die-Hard and a FoD that I'd like added to my collection. Concentrate on one of those groups. After all, what's the point of being a Cousin if you can't wreak a little havoc on people. Spying is so tedious, even if it is necessary." Sharon nodded. It was only last night that Margaret had interrupted her as she was making plans. She'd take care of that task, then head back to the loft to check on the copy of the Abarat. And she'd try very hard not to think of John Dencoff and his unfortunate fate. LaCroix broke the connection then. She noticed that the cabbie was driving around in circles around downtown Toronto--that was fine with her. She had a few calls to make. As she finished making her calls, the cab pulled up outside Nick's loft. The cabbie handed her a key. "To the stairwell," he said. Then he added, "Don't worry. I know what to do." Sharon slipped out of the cab and used the key to open the stairwell door. [end of part 1/2]---------------------------------------------------------- Cousin Sharon o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o | Sharon Himmanen | shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu * romana@aol.com | | Cousin | s.himmanen@genie.geis.com | o-----------------o---------------------------------------------- ---o ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 22:33:17 -0400 From: "L.D. Steele" Subject: FKWARII: Lisa leaves for a needed rest Sunday, am Lisa had been recovering on the sofa when the enforcer arrived. She couldn't figure out if he was a hallucination brought on my loss of blood and/or a sugar rush from all the junk food she'd been eating. Either way, she decided that enough was enough. She'd had a very trying week and was in need of a long rest. Where to go though? LaCroix probably wouldn't relinquish her readily. He had started spouting all that nonsense about collecting a Cousin from every group. He wouldn't want to give up his "Die-Hard" just after announcing his plan to gather one of every type. *You'd think we were baseball cards or something.* Lisa slowly walked into the kitchen area and poured herself a glass of water. She had almost finished it when she heard Natalie approach. "Are you feeling better now? You really should try to rest." "It's a bit crazy around here Natalie. I could try to faint gracefully on the couch again." "Nick doesn't really have guest facilities, does he?" Natalie's gaze slowly crept over the living room. People were everywhere and conversations started and stopped without accomplishing anything. *I don't know when this meeting will end.* She made up her mind and turned to Lisa. "Why don't you go to the St.George Residence? The Die-Hards can protect you while you recover, and then you can choose whether or not you want to get involved in this insane war again. If you don't you can always catch a red-eye flight back home." "Do you think they'll take me in? LaCroix might be coming after me." "They knew the consequences before they offered a sanctuary. Take them up on it. At the very least you'll get a few days peace and quiet before LaCroix finds you again." "I better leave without attracting too much attention then. There's no telling if LaCroix has spies here. He always has a few extra cards up his sleeve." Natalie went slowly over to Bruce and got the Die-Hard telephone number from him. When she telephoned the residence she was initially hooked up to a strange recording. Rrring! Rrring! Rrring! Rrring! (click) "Shhhh! Do you hear that? Silence. I'm in my new quiet room. If you want to ...." "Hello?" The voice sounded as if they'd just woken up and Natalie was startled to realize that it was early Sunday morning. A time of rest and relaxation. Sleeping in time for those people who weren't crazy enough to know vampires. "Yes, this is Natalie Lambert. I'm calling for Lisa McDavid. She's in a bit of a bind and would like to take advantage of your offer of sanctuary for a few days." The voice quickly became more alert. "This is Tracy. Do you need me to pick her up. It would be easier if she came over in a taxi. I'd have time to fix up a room for her." "I'll put her in a cab then. If she leaves soon, she'll be there in about a half hour." "Could you put her on please. She needs to know how to contact me once she reaches the front gate." Natalie handed over the phone to Lisa who had been half falling asleep against the kitchen counters. "Lisa? This is Tracy at Die-Hard headquarters." "Hmm? Yeah, I really need a place to hole up. Physically I'm beat and I don't know if LaCroix will come after me or not." "It's alright. Take a taxi to the residence... Do you know the address?" "Yeah. I took a look at the charter before I split up with LaCroix. It's right on the inside cover." "Trust Dawn to be efficient. Just dial this number at the phone outside the gate and I'll come down and pick you up." "I appreciate this." "It's what we came forward in this war for." "I'll see you in a bit then." "All right. Bye." "Goodbye." Natalie took over again a dialed a taxi number from memory. If they were lucky the vampires in the living room, would have been too busy to try and overhear what they were planning. Lisa and moved quietly through the living room. Everyone was occupied and didn't notice for awhile that she didn't come back in. --------------------------------------------------- Dawn steele@fern.physics.mcmaster.ca ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 08:29:32 EDT From: Sharon Himmanen Subject: FKW2: Food and Laptops (revised) July 10th The room was in a slight uproar when she slipped back in. She thought she'd made it back into the loft clean, undetected, but as she turned from closing the stairwell door softly Natalie caught her eye from across the room and frowned slightly. "Damn," she muttered to herself. She wondered if Nat would buy an "out for some fresh air" line. Sharon didn't think so. Doing her best to ignore Natalie for a few minutes, she slipped over to the group of people gathered in the living room area of the loft and listened quietly for a few minutes. From the conversation she was able to gather that John and the Enforcer had left the loft a short while ago. She continued to listen quietly and caught snatches of something that sounded like John had tried to attack Valerie Meachum and she thought back to LaCroix's chuckle upon learning that John was still at the loft. There was a light touch on her arm, but it came so unexpectedly, in the middle of her thoughts, that she jumped slightly. It was Natalie. She motioned for Sharon to follow her and led the way into the kitchen. The look on her face indicated that she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "You look like you're about ready to drop," Natalie said, leading her over to a table piled with food. "And I'll bet LaCroix didn't feed you either." She flinched slightly at the mention of his name. And Nat's gaze grew even more concerned. "You want to talk about it?" she asked, folding her arms across her body. "Talk about what?" "What happened while you were with LaCroix," Nat said, and Sharon felt her blood freeze. "Something more happened, didn't it? You didn't really get a chance to finish your story, what with all the excitement." Sharon swallowed, shaking her head, trying to keep her breathing even. "No, that was about all. Just . . . little details here and there." Nat looked like she was going to say something else, but instead she shrugged and indicated the table. "Well, you're going to eat something. Then you're going to go to my place and crash for a few hours. Doctor's orders!" she said, holding up her hand to stifle Sharon's protests. With a sigh, Sharon nodded, and looked around her. The table and nearly every flat surface in the room was covered with food of every sort imaginable. And it wasn't your typical large gathering, post-funeral type food collection either. She couldn't spot a platter of coldcuts or a tuna casserole among the lot. "Where'd this all come from?" she asked in wonder. "The FoDs," Nat said smiling. The FoDs brought all this, she thought. And then she thought about what she had in store for Pamela Rush and suddenly she didn't feel like eating anymore. "Uh, I'm not really that hungry. Maybe later," she said. She looked up and noticed two laptops sitting on top of the refrigerator. One looked like it was in pieces. Ignoring Nat's protests, she indicated the computers. "Oh, those," Nat said. "You know, you people have an amazing number of laptops. There's gotta be at least a dozen in this loft alone!" she said, her voice full of amazement. "These," she said, moving over the refrigerator and lifting the undamaged one, "are Nick's laptop, and Lisa's copy of the Abarat." The last was said wistfully. "The Abarat?" Sharon asked. She cursed inwardly at the slight edge of fear and eagerness that crept into her voice. Nat noticed it too, because she looked up sharply. "The file's destroyed or something. Ivy worked at it yesterday." She put the computer down on the table. "But," she said, looking up brightly. "Maybe your famous 'computer aura' will do the trick!" Nat pushed the laptop over to Sharon and looked at her hopefully. Nat had said it was 'destroyed or something'--this was her opportunity to make certain. She reached behind it and flipped the computer on as Nat came to stand beside her, watching what she did closely. The computer seemed to boot normally so Sharon called up the file of the Abarat and saw what Nat had been talking about it. Some of the words were there, but a lot of it was scrambled, and there seemed to be whole sections missing. Just to make sure, Sharon slowly scrolled through the entire document. "See," Nat said. She tapped Sharon slightly on the shoulder. "You're losing your touch," she teased. "You really must be tired." Sharon shrugged. Nat would notice if she didn't at least make the effort. "Does this machine have Nortons on it?" Typing the dir command, she saw that it did so she used the file editor to search the hard drive for various tex string on the hard drive, including those that might be in hidden files. Those that were present in the mangled sections of the Abarat showed up but that was it. Glancing up at Nat she shook her head. "It's gone." Sharon wondered just how Alexandra had managed to pull this off--she had thought the airhead vampire would simply take a screwdriver to the laptop and trash the thing. "There's *no* hope for it?" Nat asked. "I'm sorry," Sharon said. "If there's anything more to be done, I don't know what it is. A destroyed file is sometimes retrievable, but more than likely it's completely unsalvageable." Nat sighed and thoughtfully fingered the computer casing. Then, she looked up at Nick and Sharon felt a sharp stab of guilt as she saw the sadness in her friend's eyes. "Well," Nat said shakily. "Considering what Lisa told us about it, it's just as well. Nick wouldn't have been able to use it anyway. Still, I'd hoped there was . . . something . . ." Nat's voice trailed off. Sharon didn't know what to say. She should have been happy that the task of destroying the Abarat hadn't fallen to her. But that was overshadowed by what the loss of the Abarat meant to both Nick and Nat. It just didn't feel right to be happy just now. (to be continued . . .) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Fri, 15 Jul 1994 22:38:26 -0500 From: Betsy Vera Subject: Betsy makes an offer Sunday morning at the loft. Sometime after John and the Enforcer had left, `most everyone had managed to fall asleep (except for the people whose story threads require them to be awake). They were spread out all over Nick's loft, some in sleeping bags, under blankets--it looked more like a conventioneer's hotel room than Nick's loft. Natalie got up just before dawn. She found Betsy already awake, drinking some orange juice from the FoD's supply. Betsy hadn't slept for very long. Too much excitement, probably. Finally she was having some *fun*--though getting knocked out wasn't she'd had in mind, waking up in Nick's loft more than made up for it. It _almost_ made up for Ivy's guilt-ridden solicitude. Almost. Betsy had told her several times that she was okay, no hard feelings, etc., but Ivy had kept asking for forgiveness and this had driven Betsy up the proverbial wall. But, she'd finally convinced Ivy that everything was fine, and Ivy had returned to the apartment below LaCroix's to check on her eavesdropping equipment. "Couldn't sleep?" Betsy smiled. "I guess I want to make sure I don't miss anything." Now Natalie smiled. "I wish _I_ could've missed some of it. There's so much going on, I don't know which end is up anymore. I just wish this war would finish so we could go back to normal." "Normal? As in vampire bars and vampire all-night DJ's? _That_ kind of normal?" Natalie sighed. "So maybe it isn't *normal* normal, but I think it's the kind of normal I'm used to now." She shivered. "I don't believe I just said that." "Here. Have a doughnut. If that isn't normal, nothing is." Natalie picked a chocolate-covered doughnut from the box Betsy offered, thought twice about it, and also grabbed a powdered-sugar one. "So, what's next?" asked Betsy. "What's next is, we try to think of a way to make LaCroix behaves reasonably--ha!--and returns the fan mail to us before he can do who-knows-what with it." "Yeah, I've been thinking about that. Can't you blackmail him with something? Something you could threaten to publicize?" "Like what? He's never left any witnesses; besides, I can't think of anything he'd be ashamed to have spread around." Betsy got this innocent look on her face. "How about, oh, I'm guessing here, something like, say, a recording of LaCroix talking baby-talk to his pet goldfish?" "A wha----!!" Natalie choked while an incredulous laugh and a piece of powdered-sugar doughnut tried to use her windpipe at the same time. After a few minutes, she had recovered enough to ask as she reached for some kleenex to wipe her eyes, "Where are you going to find something like that, even if it exists?" "It's on Ivy's tapes. I was listening to them when she surprised me in LaCroix's apartment building." "Hold it. These tapes are *real*? You're not just making this up?" Betsy feigned indignation. "Do I look like the type of person who would invent something like that? The kind who could come up with dialogue like, `And `ow is daddy's favowite fishy today? Umm? Is `oo hungwy? Oo, yes, I can tell `oo is vewy hungwy. Look! Daddy bought Spiky's vewy favowite fishy food. Nothing but the best for Spiky-wiky, awen't you my Spiky-wiky?' By now, Natalie was laughing so hard she was in danger of falling off her chair. Finally, after a long while, she got herself almost under control. "Spiky-wiky?" "That's what he said." "Just when you think you know everything about vampires..." Natalie started to laugh again. "Look," said Betsy after she waited politely for Natalie to recover again, "why don't we ask Ivy for the tapes and put them in a safe place; then, if you need them, you'll know where they are." "Ivy went back to the apartment." "I could go get them, if you like. I don't think I'm going to get any more sleep, anyway." Natalie thought about it. "Okay. Better take Robin Carroll-Mann with you. Safety in numbers, and all that." -------------------------------- Betsy betsy.vera@mailgw.uprod.music.umich.edu (the second-longest .sig in the midwest) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 03:11:56 EDT From: DionneEN@AOL.COM Subject: FKW2 Missing Goblin... Dionne sat down at her Mac and started typing. TO: FKFIC_L@PSUVM.PSU.>EDU FROM: DionneEN@AOL.COM SUBJECT: Missing Goblin I know everyone is terribly busy with the war (I can barely keep up), but has anyone seen a little black cat with yellow eyes? She took a pouch of Tender Vittles and ran away a few days ago. I've already checked everything around here, I'm convinced she's tried to join the war. I think she might have gone to the Raven, but she's not very smart (it's just a little brain) and I don't want her to get hurt. If anyone sees a black cat named Goblin could you please e-mail me at: DionneEN@aol.com Dionne Empress of Cat (sans subject), Die-Hard Goblin Cat (MIA) ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Tue, 12 Jul 1994 13:14:06 -0400 From: Ivy Reisner Subject: FK Wars 2: Ivy waits for ghosts Ivy returned to the apartment below LaCroix. She stared in disgust at the frail little lock and promised herself she'd replace it, eventually, it didn't really matter now. Not much did. Her father and those who'd known him had been the driving factor behind all those moves, from New York to Boston to LA to Paris and finally to Toronto. Now it looked like, having found people who might understand, she might have to move again. *I should get a cat* she told herself. She looked at the equipment, both of the tapes had been filled already. She set up another two and let them go again. LaCroix wasn't doing anything terribly interesting to listen to. She got a can of soda and stared at the wall. *Maybe this was the wrong thing to do. I shouldn't have told Nat.* Her mind drifted again to that lovely letter from the dear Ravenette. Maybe she would have a place there despite the truth of her. She sighed. Maybe the NatPack would forgive her her heritage, but would Nick? And how would they react if she told them she was thirty two? ----------------------------------------------------------------- ----------- Date: Sat, 16 Jul 1994 10:22:17 EDT From: SusanG2522@AOL.COM Subject: FKWARII--One More From the Road Sunday Afternoon - One More From the Road It was dark and quiet inside the Raven, although occasionally an insomniac vampire wandered through to the bar, grabbed a bottle or a glass, then disappeared down the back stairs again. Susan wouldn't have minded it so much if they didn't flash her a smile. There were so many types of smiles. But every one a vampire gave her said one word loud and clear --dinner! Still, there was plenty of stock on hand, thanks to some emergency provisioning after the garlic disaster of a few nights ago. They all knew what Janette would do to them if any one of them touched Susan. But--she shivered, standing just inside the front door of the Raven--all you ever needed was one idiot who didn't care and . . . . There was a pounding on the door. Susan jumped, startled, then quickly threw back the heavy bolts. A somewhat road- soiled woman stood there, with a cage on the ground beside her. A rabbit peered out of the cage, bunny eyes bright. Just then, Goblin shot out of the darkness, heading on instinct for the open door. Susan scooped him up quickly-- something about being around vampires for a while tended to improve your reflexes--and cradled him against her shoulder. "Beth, I presume. And Hazel?" Beth smiled as Susan held the door wider, then picked up the cage and walked into the Raven. "Yeah--you must be Susan." Susan closed the door behind her and put Goblin on the floor, then started resetting the locks. "Thanks for calling before you showed." "I figured it was better somebody knew I was around the block. Waking vampires from a sound sleep is probably a good idea." "Too true." Susan gestured toward a booth. "Why don't you sit down for a couple of minutes. Maybe have a cup of tea? I'll give you the key to my hotel room, you can sack there until the duration." Beth sat down in the booth and put Hazel's cage on the floor. "Tha