FKWAR III: All Things Fun The Members of FKFIC-L@psuvm.psu.edu A fictional war of epic proportions created during the months of October and November of 1994. Editor's Note Editing a War is a major undertaking and certainly not for the faint of heart. Volunteering to edit such a massive tome of information may have been considered insanity my some, but it was well worth the effort. What you see on the pages that follow are the hearts and souls of many wonderful people dedicated to an incredible show: Forever Knight. Without this show, no Wars would be possible. For that matter, no fiction would be possible. For these reasons, we would all like to thank the entire cast and crew of the show for a job well done. They have been our inspiration. Several things must be said about this War. First, the order in which the posts have been fixed in this volume is not the order in which they were written or posted to FKFIC-L during the War. This is the best order they could be put in given the often overlapping story lines, frequent computer problems, and various and sundry other amazing happenings that always manage to creep up during the War. Second, there was a week long hiatus during the middle of the War that necessitated the changing of dates throughout the first half of the postings. While the text says that the War began on October 14 and ended on November 2, in truth it began on October 6 with the last official post arriving sometime around November 14. If there are any date error, mea culpa. Third, the introduction included here was originally posted after FKWar III: All Things Fun had started. It has been included so that future readers of the Wars will be able to understand the few rules that are in effect during a fiction war of this proportion. Finally, several people need to be thanked, as always, when it comes to editing a project this large: Sandra, you managed to tie some threads together that I thought were irreparable and you put in a lot of hard work. Tara, you kept a bunch of stories straight for me when I was panicking. Ron and John, you made me laugh a lot (that's a good thing, really!). Susan, you always are an inspiration to us, even when you're hypnotized and being dragged around the continent like a sack of beans. Everyone who participated, you all did a fine job of making an incredibly readable and likeable story come to life. Thank you. I hope you enjoy. Jasmine (a.k.a. Gaylin J. Walli) March 24, 1994 How to Play By Susan Garrett Read This! The FK Wars are round robin fan fiction. Which means that a basic plot is started and then other people add written parts to the story. Anyone may participate in the war, if they follow certain rules and guidelines, the first among which is that this is all for fun and not a serious attack. In fact, this is probably the only place in fandom where a `war' is not a `war' and doesn't mean tons of flaming e-mail scorching fiber optics. The point of the wars is to learn about each other while creating a slightly odd, cracking good story (like how Cousin Margaret became the Barney-Bride). Last year's Dead of Winter convention in Boston was a meeting of old friends who'd just met--we knew each other and made fast friendships because of what we'd learned about each other from the war. Important All participants (especially new ones) should read wars 1 & 2 before playing. This will give you an idea of how the round robin happens, how you interact with it, how it comes together at the end, and what has happened before. We are not kidding. Read them! Or at least read the summary posts for War #2. I don't want to read it or play in it To Quote our illustrious Listowner and Mistress of the Knet: Anyone who doesn't want the war posts, send this command to listserv@psuvm.psu.edu in the body of the mail: SET FKFIC-L topics: -WAR This will let you get all other FKFIC-L posts, but will ignore all the war postings. If it gets to be too many posts (and we warn you-you MAY get swamped), contact the listowners or check your FAQ on how to set yourself to digest (to get one or two postings a day that consist of everything posted that day) or nomail (to shut down completely until the war is over). How to enter the War People enter themselves into the war by writing themselves a small scene. Perhaps they get a phone call from a friend, see an on-line message asking from help from one of their own group . . . when reading the summary, watch people's opening posts to see how to do this. Occasionally, stuff happens, which is why we have at least three vampires and one Enforcer in our midst, from previous wars. Please be aware that we ask that all incoming players play themselves--don't show up as vampires, super- powered mutants, etc., or plan on turning yourself into same. Kick back and be you. People will like you. Trust me. Please don't post messages to the list saying `I'm in' or `Use me.' If you want to be in, simply post your opening story. If you want to be used but don't have the time or wherewithal to write for yourself, contact the person who appears to be heading up one of the groups. The groups are as follows: Table 1: Forever Knight Affiliations Cousins: LaCroix (They refer to LaCroix as "Uncle") Knights/Knighties: Nick Ravenettes/Ravens: Janette Nat-Packers: Natalie Fods (Friends of Don): Schanke Die-Hards: Fans Who Won't be Forced to Choose FoSsiLs (Friends of Sidney Lambert): Sidney and cats If you don't have an affiliation, it's safest to hang with the Die-Hards. They have laser defenses (read the last war!). How to Play This is fiction. Which means that this is a story. Sandra Gray has graciously agreed to write up a summary of the war postings so far (we suggest you download the originals and read them before playing). After the summary will be posted a listing of who is sort of leading each group. [Ed. Note: Neither the summaries not the group leaders have been included here.] 1. If you're a member of a group, contact the person who seems to be leading your group with any ideas for posting you might have before you post. This saves lots of heartache later on and will give you some idea of what your group is trying to accomplish during the war. 2. Follow the threads of the story that's been posted. Please don't introduce major new threads or ideas to the story without contacting someone in your group first. And if anyone shows up with the Abarat this time out, I'm going to hurt them. (Sorry, joke from the last war--said you should read it). 3. No fair pulling in players who haven't posted an opening story and put themselves into play. For example, during the last war, Cousin John kidnapped Beth's rabbit, Hazel. This meant that John was open to attack and potential rabbit rescuers. 4. If you have questions, please e-mail an individual, not the list. The list is for fiction and occasional bits of nonsense like this, to clarify posts (especially for those people who forget to sign them ahem), or clear up problems. If you have questions and you don't know who to send them to, send them to the FORKNI-L list. Someone over there will help you. 5. Send private e-mail. Send lots of private e-mail. Talk to the other people in your group. Make friends/try to subvert (same thing for a Cousin) people in other groups. Make plans and follow through on them. Ask for help. Offer help. 6. Very Important-all war posts must have WAR: as the beginning of the subject. This will protect people who don't want to play from having to deal with this nonsense. 7. When you post, we ask that you include a title for your post, your name, and maybe a time or general date for when the action happens (this makes it easier for people to follow the war and who later collect it and organize it . . . as well as those of us who work with systems that take years to post something *grumble*). 8. Please don't `back date' too many posts. You may see some of these as group leaders try to cover for errors in timing or contradictions, but it really frazzles the people who have to collect these things later. You are Confused Well, of course you are. Rules are nasty things. So just watch what happens when the war starts. When you feel comfortable, jump in. We'll catch you. Or just sit back and keep watching ------------ List of Authors These names were taken from the headers of each post unless otherwise requested in private e-mail or as indicated in the body of the post itself. All errors are my fault-Jasmine B Berghoff, Annette Bradley, Jill Burkey, Linda C Carey, Jeff Chisholm, Sandye D Dempsey, Ruth Dencoff, John Denton, Amy F Feldman, Lorelei Feline, Kat G Garrett, Susan Gray, Sandra H Hall, Jennise Hayes, Jennie Himmanen, Sharon Hughes, Eryka Hull, Amy J Johnson, S. Tanaquil Jorgensen, Risha K Kane, Caile Donachaidh Katz, Ronni Klarmann, Robert Knight, Karen Kong, Patsy M McCrory, Selma McDavid, Lisa Meachum, Valerie Miller, Andrea Moon, Hyo Morgan, Simone "Angel" N Nelson, Dionne Newman, Margaret Norton, Sally O O'Shea, Tara "LJC" R Rhodes, Dotti Rush, Pam S Salopek, Laurie M. Scroggs, Elizabeth A. Seiler, Monica Smith, Michael Smith, Perri Steele, L. Dawn T Treese, Windy L. W Welss, Karin ----------- CHAPTER 1 Friday, October 14, 1994 All Things Fun By Laurie M. Salopek "I don't believe you," LaCroix snarled at his wanton follower. "You are a disappointment to me." He stared at her wondering what lie or half-truth she would create for him. "I'm not asking you to believe me." Laurie was almost on her tip-toes trying to stare back at the vampire. She had no intention of backing down, she had nothing to lose, she was, after all, already on his dark side. When she had returned from the last war, LaCroix had made it quite clear that he was displeased with her performance and the seriousness of her defection to the Ravens. But, fool hearty, she never learn to take Uncle's threats seriously, which eventually led to the confrontation before her. "Oh? Then what ARE you asking?" LaCroix did admire the brash attitude she displayed as long as she didn't push it too far. "I am only asking that you watch and judge for yourself." Laurie slowly settled back down on her heals; her calf muscles were starting to ache from the strain. "I'm going away this weekend to visit Janette's premiere Ravenette and I have also learned that one of Natalie's most ardent followers will be there too. It should make for an interesting couple of days." "And?" "And if you wish to know my true loyalties, I suggest you hang around and watch." Laurie's head was bowed as she momentarily looked at the small cracks in the sidewalk. Then, ever so slowly with a most snide little grin on her face that was most befitting a true follower of LaCroix, she continued, "Janette knows nothing about this weekend and neither does Nick. No one knows. I have told no one of my intentions. For all those concerned it will start out as just another fun weekend. Well, fun for me that is. I can't speak for the others." Her small smile broadened into a most insidious grin. LaCroix smiled. "Very well, I will watch." The pause was long and cold. "Don't disappoint me again." It was Laurie's turn to smile. "Actions always speak louder than words." Time Heals All Wounds By Sandye Chisholm Everything that could have gone wrong, did. It had started out to be a terrific semester, but a sudden virus put all her plans on hold. She'd been sick for almost three weeks, and they had not been pretty ones. The doctors diagnosed the walking pneumonia, but could not isolate the strange virus that drew away all of her strength. After putting most of her plans on hold, Sandye started to believe that the new month would bring her better luck, as well as better health. It was late Thursday night, and she had just as she started studying for her much hated Chaucer exam. Dennis was on the phone as usual. When the balcony door slid open, Sandye drew in her breath, half expecting the visage of a maniacal clown. Relieved, she sat back down and beckoned LaCroix into the room. "Uncle! Thank the gods it's you." He pushed and shoved his way past the two mountain bikes and the health-rider. LaCroix did not look happy. "What are you doing?" This was her apartment, non? Obviously, something had made him a bit more than crabby; a condition no mortal anticipated with anything less than dread. Even a cousin was not secure when Uncle had a bee in his bonnet. Despite her weakened condition, Sandye stood up and faced the great immortal and his slightly pinched face. "Well, I'm trying to catch up on my work and you startled me. Dennis was teasing me about that Stephen King novel, you know the one with the killer clown...oh, nevermind. I've been sick, and- "Exactly. Sick. With a strange and unique virus that none of your pathetic doctors can identify." All right. He had done that mind-thing again; but she hadn't felt his probing thoughts. How else could he know? "LaCroix, who told you that?" His expression changed from one of anger to that of disgust. "Don't you ever learn? Look at the facts, Sandye. Use your eyes. There's more here than what you can see. Didn't you think it rather convenient that you were taken ill and hence, not able to go on that week-end with Cousin Laurie?" LaCroix was waiting for her to put it all together. If she could only think straight. Being sick had made her slow and that she didn't like any more than LaCroix. She had never imagined it anything more than an unhappy coincidence when she had to decline that trip to Susan's, and she was disappointed that she wasn't going to get to meet Sharon after all this time. It hardly mattered that she was a Nat-packer and Susan was a Ravenette- Aghast, Sandye's reason finally regained a firm hold on her reality. "You're not saying someone me sick? Why, that's sick! And impossible!" "Nothing's impossible when you're an immortal, or a doctor, with access to frillions of nasty bacteria and deadly bugs." Sandye was, for the moment, stunned. "Something is in the air, Sandye, and I'm not talking about your germs. This weekend has some deeper meaning. Perhaps it's just the beginning in a long string of attempts to weaken our side, to lure away my people. Laurie's defection in the last war was more than just clever maneuvering. Too bad it gave these others the impression that the cousins could be taken away from me. But we know that can never happen, don't we, my dear?" His snarl slipped so casually across his lips that it seemed to her quite natural; it was the outstretched fangs, however, that made the whole picture a little less than familial. "Yes, Uncle. I know, I mean, we all know. And I don't think you should really worry about Laurie. She's signed off the list as co-listowner. That means she has a great deal more freedom. I think you're gonna like the new Laurie." "I hope you're right. For all your sakes. Just keep an eye on these weekend gatherings. I don't want to hear about conversions, unless of course it is conversion to our side." "Well remember that now there's Cousin Monica and Cousin Dennis, and I believe a great deal more cousins in general. I don't recall everyone's name, having to withdraw from the last war and all, but I remember there were more." The whole memory was uncomfortable, but, as it stood, it seemed far removed from this chilly night in October. "This time, if there is another war, your hands will not be tied as before. I owe you three something for your obedience, if nothing else. But try not to waste the favor. We immortals don't favors as a rule, so my advice is, don't screw it up." And good advice at that. No cousin in their right mind would toss that wisdom away. "As you say. We'll wait and see what's shaking. And I'll take a rain-check on that favor, if you don't mind; perhaps I'll need it later on." "Nice to see that you creatures still can learn something. You know how I hate to waste my time." A vampyre who has all the time in the world not wanting to waste any of it; now there's motivation for you. Sandye looked back towards the bedroom door; it was still ajar. No doubt, Dennis sat at the recliner chatting endlessly to that dribble of a guy in Maryland. Men. Sometimes they were worse than- "But what about Laurie? She's going down there without me. She's all alone." Sandye didn't have to wait long before LaCroix reached over to calm her down; a firm hand on her shoulder told her it had been taken care of already. "I wouldn't worry about Cousin Laurie if I were you. She had a strange look in her eyes when we spoke. It's the other two that are going to have to worry." There was nothing strange about the look in LaCroix's eyes. They were the pure and perfect picture of revenge. Spying For Fun And Profit By Cousin Dennis Dennis sat back in the easy chair and ran his fingers through his wavy blond hair. Replacing the phone in the cradle, he reflected on the conversation he had just had with the man in Maryland. He heard LaCroix speaking softly to Sandye in the next room and smiled quietly to himself. Oh, this was going to be too sweet. He would send the private investigator the rest of the information he needed, along with a substantial check for expenses. After all, who knew where this investigation might lead. There were so many members of other factions to check out. It was a good thing his student loan had come in on time. Dropping the footrest on the recliner, he pulled himself out of the chair and strolled into the living room. LaCroix and Sandye were grinning maliciously, planning some exquisite torture for the others. Catching the last few words of the conversation, Dennis was able to piece together the meaning behind this surprise visit and the roles each of them would play in the coming days. LaCroix invited him to pull up a chair and the planning then began in earnest...... ------ CHAPTER 2 Saturday, October 15, 1994 Weekend at Susan's By Sharon Himmanen Bag packed, Susan's Mickey Mouse bag folded and stowed, Susan's copy of The Dark Phoenix Saga tucked under her arm, Sharon made a hasty dash for the door, already late for work and really needing to stop off for coffee. But the phone rang just as she shoved Gus out of the way with her foot and opened the door. He hissed and spat at her, then laid into her leg with his teeth and clawless front paws like the demon cat from hell that he was. Sharon thought seriously about ignoring it. It was probably her mother, calling to remind her that her birthday was coming up soon. Or worse yet, she was planning a visit to New York . . . Closing the door with a sigh, she dropped her bag and went over to the phone and switched it on. "Sharon? Hi, it's Nat." "Hey, Natalie," she replied, relieved that it wasn't her mother for a change. "You just caught me. I was on my way out the door." "I won't keep you too long. I was just wondering if you'd heard about the gorilla twins that were born at the Bronx Zoo? There's a story about it in the paper, and I thought of you." "Yeah, I did. I was just reading about it on Primate-Talk this morning. This makes six sets of gorilla twins born in captivity now." "Cool. Well, you're probably on your way to work. I'll give you call sometime this weekend when you have more time." "Oh, I'm going away this weekend," Sharon replied. "Won't be back until Monday." She heard Natalie laugh. "Ooo, hot date?" Sharon chuckled. "I wish, but hardly. I don't think Susan Garrett and Laurie Salopek count in this case." "Susan Garrett? Have I met her?" "Yep. During the last war. She's the one who threatened to burn all the potential cures that people sent in the mail." "Oh," Natalie said flatly. "Well, it wouldn't have mattered. None of them did much except make Nick suffer." "Susan seems to have a penchant for doing that," Sharon said dryly. "And Laurie," Nat said, and there was no way to mistake the under- current of bitterness in her voice. "I definitely remember Laurie." Sharon was at a loss for words. To say that Natalie was not fond of Laurie was a complete understatement, after what Laurie had done to Nick, and by extension to Natalie herself, during the first war. Laurie had replaced all of Nick's cow blood with human blood, undoing months of hard work and incurring the wrath of even LaCroix. "Yeah," Sharon said quietly. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" "What? This weekend? Because of Laurie?" "Remember what happened during the last war," Natalie reminded her softly. "He wanted you back. If Betsy hadn't shown up with those fish tapes . . ." Trying to keep the hurt from her voice, Sharon was quick to reassure Natalie. "Don't worry. I definitely learned my lesson. And Susan's pretty solid--it's not like it's going to suddenly be two against one. As much as I like the bar scene at times, I'd make a lousy Ravenette, which Susan knows. And there's a very important reason for me to go." "What's that?" "All of Susan's beta readers. If she gets caught up in another war, or worse, gets converted, we'll all be left hanging until who knows when. But I really think you're over-reacting. This is just for fun." "I don't like the sound of it. Will you just promise to be careful?" "I'll be careful. If this is a war, at least we're starting out the right way. These things always start for me with a phone call from you. Listen, I've got to get to work. I'll talk to you later." She dropped the phone back into the cradle, grabbed her bag, shoved Gus out of the way again, and was out the door and on her way. Reluctant Recruit By S. Tanaquil Johnson "No.... non, nein, ochi, lo, NO!!!" Arsinoe raised her furry head in alarm from the tangled blankets on the floor, where she had just succeeded in snaring her brother Ptolemy so that she could jump on his head and bite his ear with impunity. She knew her person was a bit strange, but the spectacle of Tanaquil banging her head repeatedly on the keyboard was a new one. "Inconceivable!" squawked the computer several times in an annoying nasal voice, and then flashed a dialog box: "Unfortunately, no one is listening to keystrokes at the moment. You may as well stop typing." Tanaquil ignored it and continued to whimper. "This can't be happening," she was muttering. "Not just when I was finally pulling out of that post-orals slump and really getting some work done. Not when I have a chapter due in less than two months. I can't, I can't..." She refused to even think about the four-figure Visa bill. But the e-mail on the screen, now plastered over with a sample of one of Eudora's insufferably cute dialog boxes, refused to go away: *** From: lambert@morgue.toronto.gov To: sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu Subject: War: what is it good for? Just thought I ought to warn you that you might want to be in contact with Valerie and Sharon. It looks as if the Cousins may be starting another war. I don't know where Janette's people fit into this, but you know she was none too happy about your part in the last war. Stay on your guard -- but this time, skip the Mata Hari bit, OK? Janette's been warming up to me lately, and I don't want to end up back at square one. And whatever you all do, keep my Sydney out of it! Natalie *** With a deep sigh, Tanaquil chose "New Message" from the Message menu. *** From: sarajnsn@violet.berkeley.edu To: vmeachum@freenet.scri.fsu.edu shihc@cunyvm.cuny.edu Subject: War???? Rumor has it that another war is afoot. Is this true? And should I be worried about trouble visiting my house??? My new kittens are pros at shredding four-year-old avocado trees and chewing through walkman cords, but they haven't had much practice at fending off human malefactors. Let alone vampires. What's going on? Help!! Tanaquil *** Natalie didn't have to waste her breath warning Tanaquil not to attempt another foray on the Raven. Apart from the fact that Janette already knew her one ridiculous disguise, the fall semester was well underway. Tanaquil's advisor might be in Minnesota, but daily Hebrew classes, a very much unwritten dissertation, a non-existent bank balance and a demanding pair of four month old kittens would keep her firmly in Berkeley this time, thank you very much. Tanaquil resolutely repressed the unwelcome image of Cousins, Ravenettes, NatPackers and Knighties cavorting around the Berkeley campus, collected her Hebrew books and headed for a cafe. This definitely called for a double cappucino. She'd do what she could to help from the sidelines, but at least this time the war wouldn't affect her life much. Right? A Cousin Begins By Laurie M. Salopek I arrived early to the bustling but desolate town of Toms River. The highways, like black ribbons forgotten on an isolated beach, meandered in and out of the small towns as I threaded my way east. After purchasing a local newspaper, that was fairly thick despite the thin population of the area, which I later discovered the reason for the immense volume was the inclusion of a multitude of varied full page obituaries, I settled in a a vinyl clad booth at the local Denny's to full my empty stomach with the vestiges of a full plate of grease. Around five o'clock, and another full plate of sugar, I started my car and headed towards the small brick complex that was the home of Janette's most prized Ravenette. I parked my car along a side street, yet the almost hidden location did not go unnoticed by the sharp eyes of Susan Garrett. She joyously bounced out from her apartment door and greeted me with a warm embrace. Scary, considering her allegiance to the darkly tailored vampire that she so adored. I managed to stay on guard and soften her suspicions with a myriad of gifts. Both small and large, the gifts were intended to catch the Ravenette off guard. Call then Trojan horses, call them what you like, but that do serve their purpose. Trojan horses, yes, that is what they are, all dressed in facades of innocence, masquerading an aura of deceit. The old legends will serve me well this weekend, if only I can manage to keep the stealth look of unknowing about my face, I will be safe; I will secure my mission under the eyes of Uncle and return to my true place by his side. Our chatter was light until around 6:30pm when we left to pick up the third member of this weekend delight. Unfortunately, Sharon's bus was late. No doubt, she was delayed by a phone call from the strong yet ill focus emotions from the coroner in Toronto. Somehow, Natalie seemed to sense the unending turns of our, the cousins, different missions to turn her followers away from their useless mortality and relish the strength of the loyalty bestowed from Uncle. With a Ravenette in the front seat and a NatPacker in the back, I took advantage of the extra horsepower that the fuel injection of my car afforded me and proceeded to stretch the limits of the cars performance. After all, toying with the limits of law and mortality is one way to bring those outside of the fold into place. But, they took it in stride, even with a cousin at the wheel. I parked again along the side street. It was going to be a long weekend. Karin and Jennise Change Jobs and Loyalties By Karin Welss As an unsuspecting Sharon H. was packing up for a weekend at Susan Garrett's... Three thousand miles away, on a balmy October afternoon in the San Francisco Bay Area, Jennise Hall's telephone rang. Jennise picked up her TV remote, expertly hit the PAUSE button-- and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" "Hey, Jennise!" It was unmistakably Karin. Which mean it was likely to be a long phone call. Jennise picked up the remote again, and turned off her television and her VCR. "Guess what-- another FK War is starting up." "Oh, great," Jennise groaned. "And Uncle wants us to get involved again? I thought he brought us across to *write* for him. And look what keeps happening! I'm getting really really sick of this!" Jennise paused. "Whaddya think he'd do if I just handed in my resignation?" "I've been thinking about bailing, too," commiserated Karin. "But hey, that's why I was calling. I just saw the coolest job ad posted on RAVEN-L. It's from Dorian, the Archivist. He's looking for a couple of trusty assistants to help him out." "Sound interesting," Jennise allowed cautiously. "Cool! I'm glad you think so," exclaimed Karin brightly. "Because I applied for both of us-- and just got e-mail back from dorian@vamp.archive.com. We've been hired!" "We've been --WHAT?" Jennise blinked. This was all moving *way* too fast. "I said, we're hired. We're the Vampire Archivist's new assistants. Should be lot of writing in *this* job. And we have our first assignment!" "Dare I ask?" Karin laughed. "Pack your parka and see you at the Oakland Airport in about two hours. We're supposed to meet up with Dorian in New Jersey." "New Jersey? What's in New Jersey?" Jennise looked longingly at the TV, recalling the peace and quiet of a couch-potato Saturday afternoon. Things were *definitely* moving too fast. "Susan M. Garrett lives there," Karin replied, a quiet note of malicious triumph. "And Dorian wants to Interview her-- she *knows* way too much about the Community." "Oh, jeez," Jennise said, and grabbing a pencil, began jotting down the flight number and departure time that Karin was dictating in her typical German machine-gun fashion. New Jersey. Autumn. It was going to be @#$% cold. Jennise *hated* the cold, even though she and Karin were both vampires now, children of LaCroix, and theoretically couldn't feel the cold any more. "Now, where did I put my flannel nightie...?" she muttered, as she moved around her apartment, gathering up things to pack. The Enforcer Is In! By Ronni Katz While the two California ladies, Karin and Jennise, were preparing to meet up with Dorian in New Jersey, another Vampyre was at his computer in New Jersey catching up on his mail..... "So, the Archivist is HERE," Romulus (known on the Net by the moniker of Ron the Enforcer) said to himself smiling slightly. "I thought getting even with LaCroix felt good. Carving Dorian a new asshole will feel OH SO WONDERFUL!" Now, why would you want to do that? a familiar voice inquired in a curious tone from over Romulus s shoulder. Romulus turned to see Dragutin, his mage friend and occasional adventuring companion, standing at his elbow. He looked more human than usual, clad as he was in a fisherman s sweater and loose fitting black trousers and his long hair pulled back into a simple ponytail. Dragutin saw the posting from Cousin Karin that Romulus had been reading and shook his head. You cannot challenge the Archivist, he told his friend. I know you were able to resist the Interview - a feat you share in common with LaCroix - but, although the Enforcers no longer support him, the Ancients, their Masters, do. Although this is not known widely in the Community, Dorian is protected by the Ancients. If you were to harm him without just cause, you d incur the wrath of many people - including your beloved Lavinia. Lavinia hates Dorian as much as I do. True, but she will not support you in all the others were to turn in concert against you. Romulus, you are very old and powerful, no one can deny that, but you would not last long if EVERY Ancient was to focus their immortal energies against you. Especially the ones who are members of the Order of Hermes. You know what I am capable of but my power is but a drop of water compared with the lake my Master has at his command. Have YOU ever been Interviewed, Dragutin? No, the mage-vampire replied quietly. But, then again, I am a bit young for that. I m less than four centuries old. Yeah, you re not at the spewing dust stage like I am, Romulus replied grinning. Dragutin smiled slightly and Romulus continued, I was invited to that party Sunday at Susan G's. I've been writing to her over the Net and we actually met face-to-face at a Renfaire. I was wearing my old great kilt and looked like something the cat dragged in but, once we got to talking, it was cool. She s an awesome lady! For a mortal. Look, I *DO* have mortal friends. My friend Ed, he s in your Order but belongs to the Chantry house here in Jersey, and I hang out all the time when I m not working. He s coming to the party with me. And you'll be getting there by car? Yeah. It s not every Mage that can do Correspondence! Dragutin chuckled softly. True, he agreed, than added, I know Ed. His talents lie in other Spheres, but he is not to be underestimated. Besides, if Dorian does show up to Interview Ms. Garrett, it will be to her benefit to have both you, the Enforcer at Large, and a member of the Order of Hermes there to protect her. I wish I could assist, but I m afraid my duties to the Chantry will be keeping me quite occupied all weekend. I know. You've been so busy since we got back from Toronto that it s like I hardly know you anymore! I do regret that, Dragutin admitted. I enjoy your company, when you re not sharpening your claws on some living tissue, but I feel it s time you got out and made yourself some new friends. You've been living like a hermit since John went back to pursue his studies at the University in New Mexico. He was a medical student, right? Yes, and we managed to get his schedule arranged so that his *condition* wouldn't interfere with his studies much. I`ll work with him on his Disciplines between semesters. It s not critical he learns everything now. He s got eternity to master his craft. Besides, considering how he was Brought Across, I think he should spend some time with you. You did say you saw some mystic potential in him. Yes, a bit. But in my travels, I saw the Potential in another. Her natural Quintessance was very strong. Who is this person? Valerie Meachum. I saw her in that Scottish Play a while back. Talented...and beautiful. And engaged, Romulus said and he was *sure* he caught a look of disappointment on his friend s face. The Enforcer grinned adding, Hey, I thought you had a policy that you didn't screw your students. My god, man, sometimes you can be so incredibly vulgar! Dragutin stated and Romulus just laughed. You are NOT amusing! Romulus was still chuckling softly when Dragutin finished saying, I know I don t....have relations with students. But I still have eyes and they do appreciate beauty. I am capable of looking and enjoying without touching, unlike some men I know! Romulus colored slightly, knowing Dragutin was referring to the Enforcer s stolen night of passion with Natalie Lambert. Dragutin had been incensed that Romulus, who had been disguised as Nick Knight at the time, had tricked the good coroner into allowing him to pleasure her in a way she had always dreamed Nick would. Natalie s memory of the event was shifted - at Dragutin s insistence for the mage was certain Nick never intended to make Natalie his lover - so she would recall it as a dream only. So, the friendship was preserved and only Romulus and Dragutin knew what *really* happened that night.... So, is Valerie your newest apprentice? No...not yet anyway, Dragutin said. I intend to speak to her about it but I have a feeling she is soon going to be, ah, otherwise engaged. Yeah, Romulus agreed a wicked grin crossing his angular face. Looks like there is going to be another War! I think I m going to be making myself scarce, the Mage stated clearly not at all thrilled by what is about to transpire. Well, I know how much you enjoy a good fight. Just...watch yourself. Romulus nodded, well aware of what his old friend was implying with his warning, but the old vampire had a feeling that the party at Susan G. s on Sunday was going to be far more than just a party. Ground Zero, here I come! the Enforcer exulted. Lying In Wait By Susan Garrett There are certain things for which you can prepare--fire, flood, famine, Rush Limbaugh . . . . The visits of Cousins, even planned, are just beyond the realm of the natural world. You can't run. You can't hide. You can't even hire someone to move your stuff to another apartment and change your name. Susan knew this. She thought she'd prepared for the inevitable visit. She was wrong. Cousin Laurie arrived with a newspaper in hand (meaning that she'd already scoped out all the attractions of the area and had even found the mall--well, she'd passed it but she knew where it was) and an announcement that she'd already eaten at the local Denny's (always a good way to wind down travel-weary visitors). Deciding to hold off the use of her ultimate weapon/delaying tactic (caramel popcorn), Susan sat across from the Cousin, wondering what deviltry might lie behind this visit and how soon Sharon might arrive and take the heat off her (something at which Nat- Packers seemed to excel). She had no plans, really--just to finish the novel, scream quite a lot at Great Adventure on death-defying log floom rides (which also meant a certain amount of getting- wetedness), and preparing for the party on Sunday night. For now she could only wait and watch, trying to discern what malevolent intentions might lie behind the Cousin's pleasant facade. That . . . and maybe hide some of the caramel popcorn before Cousin Laurie ate it all. Dear Diary By Sharon Himmanen Dear Diary, I thought I'd never get out of the city. This had been the week from hell, and Nat seems to think I'm heading into the weekend from hell. It wouldn't have been quite so bad had a bus not broken down in the south terminal of Port Authority, holding up inbound and outbound traffic for nearly half an hour. It hadn't helped that I was too afraid of missing the bus when it did leave to get off line to call Susan to tell her I'd be late. It hadn't helped that I'd rushed down here at the last minute, after my #@$$%& programmer declared my program too impossible and too problem ridden to deal with on a friday afternoon, plus which he had to go meet his girlfriend down in the village anyway. So if a Cousin is planning any traps, confrontations, or attempted conversions, this weekend, let her. I'm more than ready. A flashy red sports car, the realization that Cousin Laurie thinks "Oh, yield!" works best as an afterthought, and a dinner at Denny's later we arrived at Casa Garrett. Diego and all of Susan's wonderful toys were waiting. I wonder if Laurie really knows what she's gotten herself into. Diary Entry 1 By Selma McCrory I've forgotten to keep this diary up to date, so I might as well try to start now. A lot has happened since the middle of July. FK has started airing. And it's not Jennise's alternate season. I'm really glad I did my part in that. As for Jennise, I've forgiven her. She still has to proofread all this fiction I've neglected writing and revising. And she's happier now that I got rid of the blond vampire. Of course, *I* don't mind that I've gotten rid of him. He started getting ideas about bringing me across. I don't see why LaCroix brought across someone so insane. Of course, dear Uncle is undoubtedly up to something quite nasty. I'm quite happy to be uninvolved with his schemes. I wonder when he's going to start trying for new Cousins again. I wonder if he'll try for me again. I was a Cousin, for one glorious week, before I switched to NatPack. And I made a very lousy Cousin, if I do say so myself. But then, Nick makes a very lousy vampire, and LaCroix hasn't stopped trying to set him straight either. So I do not have much hope. At least if he tries anytime soon, Hilary will be quite out of his reach. She's travelling, trying to get all over the US and Canada in one month. And she's more vulnerable than me, since she's a Knightie. There's one good thing about being in the NatPack, there are two other ex-cousins in here. Well, I need to go. Catch you later (can you tell I've been with a bunch of Starman fans the last two days? Details tomorrow). Selma A Test of Old Loyalties By John Dencoff Cousin John lifted the tube carefully, noting the color of the contents as they swirled. It was almost mesmerizing, a light shade of bluish-green. If his insertion vectors were correct, this one would be the key. The antibodies were reacting exactly as he'd hoped. There were too many clues that this "disease" he'd been inflicted with was actually a specialized virus of sorts. It was operating on the immune system, to be sure, and the blood was necessary for the nourishment of the altered cellular structure. But a virus that infected every single cell of the body! It was too amazing to contemplate! And yet, here he was, a living example of what it could do...or perhaps a dead example. He didn't really *know* if he was alive, after all. Hopefully his immunology background could help him find the elusive cure that Nick had so desperately searched for. And tonight, he had the lab to himself, a little "suggestion" that the graduate student take some time off. Deftly, he pulled the solution of polyclonal antibodies up into the syringe. Tapping the needle once...twice...to push the tiny air bubbles out of it. Then he set the syringe down on the table and set his eyes on the rat. He'd had to put the little demon in a reinforced-glass cage; after all, its strength had increased dramatically after he'd infected it with vampirism. The rat squealed as he grabbed it, his heart racing. He was immune to the pain of the bites, of course, but he'd been bitten in life one time too many. The rat fought, then calmed after the quick injection of antibodies. Its eyes glazed...and moments later it began to writhe in agony. Cousin John watched in horror as the rat died. It wasn't how he'd hoped this experiment would go. "My dear John," a quiet voice intoned behind him, and John's heart nearly leapt into his throat! He turned quickly, his speed enhanced by the Vampire's curse. It was Uncle. "What...what do you want?" "What kind of experiment are you conducting, dear boy? Or do you simply enjoy putting lesser creatures through pain? I admit, it was never a lesson I could teach poor Nicolah." Uncle gazed *through* him, it seemed. "I am working on my research, as I intend to live out this life...even though I am deprived of much else by this curse." "Ah, yes, your research. In the field of cancer physiology, yes? Why *do* you bother, John? Cancer is something that affects mortals, not us. It is a waste of your time. You could be learning other, more necessary things. Why did you leave Romulus? His offer to teach you was not something every Vampire gets." "I didn't leave him. I am wrapping things up in this life. He understands. We have all the time in the world. After I complete this life, I will return." "Leave now, and I will teach you things that he could not possibly know. It is an offer I will not make twice. Before your betrayal, which was--admittedly--a misunderstanding, you were a Cousin. You were one of mine." John smiled, nostalgia creeping into his thoughts. "Yes, it is tempting. Please understand, though. I mean no disrespect, but it is very important that I complete this life. Too many loose ends that I would like to tie up. Some favors that I would like to repay. Even mortals deserve that." "I see," Uncle said flatly. "I am disappointed, but you are not the first of my progeny to make me feel so." "The Aberat," John corrected. "It wasn't you, but the Aberat that brought me across. That may be why I am different than some of the others. I know that now. It wasn't you. I bear you no grudge, Uncle." He even managed a smile. "Then..." LaCroix considered, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, "you are still a Cousin?" "I am my own person," John said nervously. "But, not opposed to helping out my Uncle from time to time." LaCroix was pleased, his face a reflection of a cat that had just caught a mouse. "Excellent! I haven't lost you after all. I may call upon you sometime later, when I need a particular favor, John. As always, I reward my allies well." And with that, he turned and flew out the open window into the night air. Sometime later, as John finished putting away his tubes and blood-collection vials, he noticed that the rat wasn't quite dead. It had even begun to move...and his senses told him that the Vampirism was gone from the animal. Gathering up the vial of remaining antibody, he quickly prepared a syringe. This time, it was enough for a human, enough for himself. The cure needed a human test, after all...and he injected himself with the solution. It spread like fire throughout his veins... He awoke only hours before daylight, incredibly sick and shaking from the intense cold. It had failed...the blood- hunger rose in his throat...he needed fresh blood, and quickly, or he would go mad! As he fumbled through the refrigerator, he pulled out one of the preserved bags. Uncontrollably, he tore into it with his teeth and licked the blood from the plastic until he was sated. This was a failure of grand proportions...he had almost lost control! What if he had been forced to hunt on the streets and had killed someone? As his hatred of the curse rose sharply, he noticed the animal in the cage. It froze, petrified, an all-too-normal response for facing a vampire. As John approached it, his fangs still extended, it died of fright. John's only thought...how did his cure affect the animal...why did it fail to revert him? The Enforcer Visits Cousin John (Part 1 of 2) By Ronni Katz Ron the Enforcer stared at the computer screen in total disbelief. Have you lost your mind, John? Ron cried in horror as he read the passage in which John cited where he tried the formula he used on the lab rats on himself. Kid thinks he s Dr. Frankenstein! Relax, Ron, a familiar voice purred from over the Enforcer s shoulder. John is a scientist and, well, occasionally scientists do things that aren't very sensible. Dragutin, I HAVE to go out there. To talk some sense into that crazy kid before he kills himself! I didn't think it was possible for a vampire to die that way, the Mage replied with his usual calm. I didn't think it was possible to reverse vampirism at all and yet John did it, Ron countered. He only found a cure for animals, but that still counts. And, well, if he s doing research along the lines of a cure- Your duty calls for you to investigate it. Exactly. And if he is trying to find a way back for himself, what will you do? Ron looked away from the mage and returned his dark eyed gaze to the VGA monitor. Nothing hostile, he said after a long pause. I thought the kid was happy with his new life. I guess I had him figured all wrong. I guess he didn't have the stamina for immortality. Not everyone does, Dragutin replied softly resting a comforting hand on his friend s shoulder. Will you take me out there to see him? Dragutin nodded... The Mage s navigational abilities were flawless, as usual and he and the Enforcer appeared in a stairwell in John s residence building. No one saw them appear from out of nowhere (and thus no Paradox was created, which pleased Dragutin no end!) and the pair quietly exited the stairwell and walked down the hallway and to John s door. Do you want me to be here? Do you want to watch me have a temper tantrum? Not especially. Then you d best stay out of earshot, Ron said with a wry smile and the Mage Dragutin faded from sight. The Enforcer could *feel* his presence but the Mage was not within earshot. However, he could be easily contacted if and when he was needed.... Ron knocked on the door and John answered. He looked downright shocked to see his *sempai* (teacher) standing there, not so much because of the distance he travelled to be there but because he was there IN BROAD DAYLIGHT! Romulus! John cried calling his mentor by his true name and not by the one he had been given by Aristotle as a *mortal* identity. What are you doing here? I came to talk some sense into you before the Enforcers come and you wind up staked in the sun for violation of the Code. The Enforcers? You ARE the head of the Enforcers in this region. You mean you d let them- No, but I have to abide by the Code. And, with Susan Garrett about to face an Interview with Dorian, I don t need you to go off and do something stupid that will force me to be here saving your Kindred butt! You...you read that stuff I posted about my experiments? YES! And so did a lot of other people! Ron told him working VERY HARD on not losing his temper. Look, come inside and I'll explain everything, John promised as he let his mentor in. Ron sighed heavily saying, I m expecting an explanation. And it HAD BETTER BE GOOD! John was cringing slightly as he closed the door.... ------- CHAPTER 3 Sunday, October 16, 1994 Thoughts a 'Driftin By John Dencoff As Ron, the Enforcer, John's mentor...his teacher...continued pacing back and forth across his carpet, he decided that he would just have to wait until the end of Romulus's speech ("Are you MAD?...Benefits of Vampirism?...Where did we, LaCroix and I, go wrong?...Are you sure you know what you're DOING, boy?) until he could get a word in. It was going to be hard to explain...but his thoughts drifted off to something he'd done earlier that evening. He wondered if it was *too* evil. He couldn't take the credit for the idea...it all belonged to that deviously inventive Ravenette, Karen Knight. The name was confusing of course, a Knight as a Ravenette...but with the concept of using polyester as a War weapon, she should've been a Cousin! Ron suddenly broke his train of thought. "Have you been listening to a word I've been saying?!?" "Yes." "And another thing!..." Ron started pacing again. It wasn't as if it was his idea, after all...and he wasn't doing anything truly evil to the Knighties. But to attack Janette on her own turf...on an issue of style! Now he was wondering if he should have done it. On the other hand, he sorta wished he would be there to see her face. Maybe if he could explain his intentions to Ron quickly, then they could *fly* there to see the resultant explosion of anti-style. Would the Vampires faint on the spot? Was the disco ball going *too* far? he chuckled under his breath. The Enforcer Visits Cousin John (Part 2 of 2) By Ronni Katz The Enforcer stopped pacing and faced his pupil demanding, "Now tell me...what's this crap about a CURE???!" "Well, you have a clue since you've obviously read my posting on the Net," John began. ""What I found, however, is that it won't work on us yet. The formula is enzymatically incorrect for humans, but WILL work on animals." "So, you'll reverse back all the vamped-out pets and leave it at that?" Ron queried not too sure he really bought all the medical mumbo-jumbo he'd read on the Net. "Well...no. I intended to continue with my research," John said and stopped and added insistently, "But nOT for me!" when he saw the Enforcer's dark eyes starting to glow red-gold. "I'm doing this work for Nick. HE'S the one looking for a way back. I'm quite... content to stay as I am." "This `research' of yours is a violation of the Code," Ron stated flatly. "I know," John replied meeting the Enforcer's hard gaze. "You're not going to bust me, are you?" "No," Ron replied after a LONG pause. "But if the Ancients find out, and they WILL if you keep posting your findings to the Net as a whole instead of privately E- mailing the interested parties, you're screwed. And if I'M sent to take you out, you will get NO MERCY because you were STUPID and CARELESS!" John was stunned. He knew his mentor was a non-nonsense type but he had no idea Ron the Enforcer was THIS ruthless. He had seen glimmers of how intense Ron was during the Training Mission he went out on before the start of fall classes but much of what the Enforcer really did was kept hidden from the fledgling vampyre. "Look, I'll be careful, I promise," John replied daring to face his mentor, who was still glaring at him but with human eyes (not those horrid vampyre ones!). "I won't do anything to make you an enemy." "Good plan," Ron stated crossing over to within inches of John. "Remember this, Childe. Whatever you fear LaCroix doing to you should you ever cross him is NOTHING compared to what *I* can do should you ever cross *me*!" John cringed visibly. Ron's expression softened as he asked, "Now, what's this plot you have that involves...what was it, a disco ball??" John's eyes widened. Had the Enforcer been reading his mind full of drifting thoughts all during his rant?? Talk about being able to multitask! John stammered for a moment before saying, "Well, I *did* have a plot in mind. I just need...a way to get there to pull it off." "What do I look like, United Airlines?" John had the grace to be embarrassed because it *was* the Enforcer s supersonic flying ability he'd been hoping to enlist! "Well, I WAS going to ask you to be in on the scheme." "YOU take care of your Cousinly plots, boy. I have a lady to protect from a certain unscrupulous Archivist." "Susan?" John said more than asked. "Yes. So, you go and have your fun but I can t join you until after I am sure Susan is safe. Understood?" "Yes. How can you get me to where I need to go and get to Susan s in time to help her?" "Dragutin is with me. I'll see if I can convince him to help." John nodded as the Enforcer poked his head out *sensing* for the Mage. He picked up nothing. Where the hell was he? Ron scanned around for a moment before spotting what looked like a black CD with a note attached to it taped to the wall beside John s door. Ron read the note: Sorry - had to run. This Stepping Disk has been prepped with the spell to Correspond you and John to Susan's haven. Will try to catch up with you later. And it was signed with the Mage's sigil. "F%^K!" "What is it?" John asked as he watched his Mentor fume in the hall. "Dragutin's gone off to parts unknown. I have a way to get to Susan's but, without Mr. Teleportation, I'm stuck having to fly your Cousinly rump to Janette's. No offense, but this is going to delay my arrival at Susan's - hopefully I won t be too late to help her!" "But you *do* fly very fast," John reminded him looking more than ready for that Mach Plus flight with the Enforcer. "Yeah, and if you don't cover every inch of your body with clothing, the exposed skin will be torn off by the friction," Ron told him looking grim. "Wear leather, it protects the best." John had always wondered why Ron wore leather when in the field and now he knew the answer. He went to scrape together what leather clothing he had so he could take that bullet flight up to Canada. While John changed, Ron got on John s computer and sent a message. * To: DORIAN1228@aol.com From:Questinc@aol.com Subject: your interview Karin- I know you re there acting as Dorian s assistant so tell the Archivist that he is violating the Code Interviewing Susan Garrett. In case he needs this clue (and knowing Dorian, he just might) SUSAN IS A MORTAL. In case he missed the fact that he didn't get the buzz around her that he gets around Kindred, here is another clue - she can go out in the daylight! If the big guy needs any more clues - tell him I'll be checking in on my mail from the road (I have PPP and SLIP access so I can do this sort of thing!) Better yet - maybe I'll just drop by and bludgeon him with the clue stick in person! Romulus Romanus, Enforcer *** He SENT the message and grinned evilly to himself. John came back out the moment after Ron sent his message forth. "I'm ready." Ron nodded, logged off and shut down the computer. John saw he had been on the Net but wondered (only for a moment) how he got in but assumed (correctly) that Ron could log on from any site (Enforcers have access to all kinds of neat technology - thank you Larry Merlin!!) and Ron had PPP and SLIP access because of the mortal job he had (hey - a guy has to pay rent you know!) so John thought nothing of his Mentor's actions. However, the moment they shot skyward and he felt the frigid air that was the sky at THAT ungodly altitude, John was beginning to think that maybe Air Canada would have been the better plan.... Great Adventure Part 1 By Laurie M. Salopek "Susan," I said with a calm but insidious voice, "feel like going on a roller coaster ride?" "As long are there are NO LOOPS!" "I don't think this one has loops." I said as I carefully nudge her through the entrance gate. "I don't like being shaken from side to side. And besides, someone fell out of one of those things head first." There it was, those little defiant intonations that defined a Ravenette. It wasn't until we were done weeding our way through the maze of railings and were heading down the long covered corridor, that the thunderous noise from overhead yanked her back to reality and the realization that she was trapped. Susan looked out at the twisted metal tubing that supported the corkscrew loops at the end of the ride. "It has LOOPS!" Her face first drained and the contorted into a furious facade of facial frenzy. "I know," I said with a deep cousin purr. "No! No way!" Susan growled. "Too late." I said and smiled. Sharon was waiting for us as we walked backed from the ride. Well, I walked, Susan staggered. Sharon looked over at Susan as she tried to pass by without crashing into the trash barrel. "There's a bench over there if you want to sit down." Sharon said. "I don't want to sit down, I want to kill." Susan muttered as she twirled around the trash container and landed on the bench. "Are you ok?" Ok, maybe it was a dumb question, but it was a cousin kind of question where the subtext of the words act like the final thrust of a stiletto after the major blow has been struck. Susan glared at me through the narrow slits between her eyelids. "You will pay for this," she said. I wasn't worried much, the site of Susan staggering off the ride after seconds of monestrous screaming that almost left her voice dry and cracked was well worth the price. "Where do you guys want to go next?" Sharon asked. "Doesn't matter to me," I was quite content with my recent trickery. "Well, the flume rides should be open by now." Susan was regaining consciousness. "Sounds good to me." Sharon said. "I'll watch you guys, I really don't want to get this sweater wet." "Flume it is," Susan replied a tad too cheery. As we walked away from The Great American Scream, my mind pondered other avenues of torture for the duo that accompanied me. Great Adventure II: Big Vater! By Susan Garrett There are some things that Susan just didn't do--contrary to the opinion of the phone operators in Toronto hotels. She didn't play in traffic. She didn't use her portable phone outside during thunderstorms (well, almost never). And she didn't do rollercoasters that had loops. Big, hulking wooden monstrosities held together by chewing gun and bailing wire--no problem. Large, boat type adventures with unexpected splashes and big waves-- everybody dries off eventually. And though she might enjoy being shaken and stirred, dropped from great heights, thrown from side to side, and being made seriously wet . . . being turned upside down was never any part of a ticket purchase. Which was why she was still staggering as the trio of FK fans made their way across the vast commercial enterprise, past fake cobwebs and really cool orange and black fans, and out of Frontierland. Susan knew that many opportunities would present themselves to exact revenge for this cousinish deed, it was only a matter of figuring out what would be a) most appropriate and b) most damaging. The problem was that Laurie was a Cousin. And Cousins, by their nature, were daring. They tried . Twice, if they liked it. Phobias were out--lots of lovely fake Halloween spiders in sight, but not a darned cockroach. Susan was briefly considering trying to find caramel popcorn, watching Laurie stuff herself full (she was drawn to it like metal filings to a magnet), and then steering her toward the Batman ride . . . . But they found themselves wandering among the Rivers of the World flume section. And after brief concerns about the small flume, Laurie agreed that they should go on the adventure rapids. Sharon, of course, had remained silent, still stunned by the loss of her Swiss Army knife at the front gate--she had to be bodily restrained at times to prevent her from going back and checking on it--and had only ventured one opinion . . . that she was hungry and wanted to eat soon. Even she, however, was willing to brave the rapids. In full accordance with her luck so far that day (Bugs Bunny wasn't out in his Dracula outfit and Susan--being the rabid character addict that she was--was very disappointed that she couldn't have her picture taken with Bugsula), Susan bought the big one first, in a mighty splash that came up over the back of the raft. Sharon and Laurie enjoyed this immensely. There was no way to make the raft move one way or the other- -the course through the rapids was haphazard and the raft, being round, spun on a whim or random bump from the siding of the ride. All Susan could do was to trust to the luck of Ravenettes and the logistics of ride builders everywhere. Luck came through. Toward the end of the ride, as they neared the waterfall, the BIG rapids hove into view. Susan grinned, knowing the Laurie and Sharon couldn't see-- because they had their backs to their impending doom--but in all fairness kindly pointed out that they were about to meet their watery makers. They did. The water hit between the seats, drenching Sharon and Laurie to their shorts (and other unmentionables). The wave was enough to cast some scattered water over Susan, but she didn't mind because the music of the water-logged damned (which sounded quite a bit like the screeches of a cat having fallen into a swimming pool) was glorious. It was as they dripped their way off the ride, just pleasantly soaked but not quite completely drenched, that Susan had another idea. "There's another flume over here," she said. "As long as we're wet--" "We can dry off while we're eating, afterwards," agreed Sharon. But Laurie, who had worn a sweater instead of a t-shirt, was watching the sag of the fibers. The holes were growing progressively larger as gravity took over the water-weighted material. "But this is my favorite sweater!" protested Laurie, in a voice filled with dismay. "You guys go, I'll just watch." That's when Susan realized that her revenge had just been handed to her on a rather wet cotton-and-acrylic platter. "Oh, it's not really a flume," said Susan, steering them around the back of the ride, so they couldn't see what happened. "More like a short rollercoaster that goes through water." Laurie seemed unconvinced as they headed around the Ferris wheel and into the wooden railings that led to the ride. "The line isn't very long," she announced aloud. She seemed to take some comfort from this--as long lines usually indicated a high percentage of fear/wetness/death- defyingness for a ride. Susan kept quiet. And Sharon, who was still somewhat concerned about her Swiss Army knife and her inability to compensate for the loss with food, hesitated only briefly when they got into the car. She looked down at the very wet seat, then into the car behind her where Susan and Laurie sat. But in true Nat-Packer fashion, she decided to stay out of this particular engagement. The ride a rollercoaster of sorts. As they started up the incline, the car screaming down the drop not 100 feet on the other side of them hit the water with a splash that managed to reach their car. Laurie groaned, suddenly realizing just how wet this was going to be. And Susan chuckled and held on for dear life. The drop was steep. When the car hit the bottom, a wall of water rose before them, white blanking out the sky, surrounding them in a limbo of eternal water. The screams broke after that awe-filled silence, followed by whoops and cheers. For a moment, Susan was too overcome by the experience to do more than bounce up and down in her seat, screaming, "Again! Again!" Then she looked at the Cousin beside her. Laurie was drenched. Her sweater hung low and was sinking fast, the speed of the downward spiral only to be matched by her mood. Laurie was happy. But the best was yet to come. As they squished their way off the ride, Susan deftly led Laurie past the immediate exit ramp and up to the bridge. She'd noticed that after the wall of water, they'd been dripped on from above. And she had a feeling that standing on the observation bridge might just do the trick. "Come on," she told Laurie cheerfully, "you can watch someone else get it." Laurie's mood improved somewhat and she hurried her pace so they could catch the bridge before the next car went down the drop. It was perfect bait, for no Cousin could resist watching somebody else `get it.' Sharon sloshed behind, more than up for the adventure. She met Susan's eyes, letting her know that Laurie would be trapped between them and was well aware of what that `observation' bridge was for. Standing with a few other thrill-seekers, the trio watched the car drop down the incline, the passengers shrieking. The car hit the wall of water, which rose like a tsunami-- And headed directly for them. Cousin Laurie emitted a strangled yelp and tried to escape, but with Susan on one side and Sharon on the other, she was trapped. The water hit with just enough force to knock them back a step, soaking them completely from head to toe, plastering down what few dry hairs remained, drenching them down to their skins, and even penetrating the water-proofing on Sharon's oh-so-practical water- proofed hiking boots. Another moment of stunned awe followed. Susan looked at Sharon and they grinned foolishly, enjoying the spectacle, because Laurie's sweater had grown at least another half a foot and was rapidly stretching its way into a fishing net. Cousin Laurie was less than amused. She stomped her way down the exit platform, grabbing bits of her sweater not only to wring them out, but to keep them from stretching so that they would trail behind her. Even her open shoes squished, leaving little puddles behind as she sailed off in Rhine-Maidenish splendor. Susan decided the cost of wet sneakers and water-logged socks (she'd wring them out later) had not been too high. Following Sharon off the ride, she wondered what other deviltry the Cousin might attempt to perpetrate and was content in knowing that she'd match Laurie, loop for loop, drop for drop, and splash for splash. Great Adventure IV: Many Happy Batman Returns By Sharon Himmanen Sharon was wet. Very wet. It was shocking, really, just how wet she was. Even her waterproof hiking boots, mandatory apparel whenever following a Ravenette (she'd learned this the hard way not long ago) were waterlogged. And now Laurie was steering her toward the Batman Returns ride. Sharon had spent the better part of the wait for the water rapids gazing up somewhat morosely at the huge black steel coils several yards away. It should have looked like any standard amusement park ride, with loops and drops. But for some reason, it looked ominous to her. Maybe it was the fact that it was black. Maybe it was the fact that the screams from the riders echoed throughout the park as they spun around. Maybe it was because Laurie was anticipating her ride on it with such obvious delight. Whatever the reason, it didn't look safe. But she'd promised. Laurie had gotten wet. Very wet, then whined until she got ten bucks out of each of them for a dry shirt. And somewhere in there she'd wrung a promise out of Sharon to ride the Batman Returns ride. If truth be told, Sharon would rather have something to eat, but Laurie warned her that it probably wouldn t be a good idea to eat before-hand, and Sharon had to agree. So they got in line. Susan, having had her fill of roller- coasters with loops, emphatically declined Laurie's invitation to join them. She made no move to intervene on Sharon s behalf. Unlike what had happened to her earlier, the NatPacker knew exactly what she was getting into, and if she still wanted to go through with it because of some misguided sense of honor, well that was fine by her. She'd be waiting at the exit. The trip through the semi-long line was silent. Sharon had given Susan her mother's phone number in case anything bad happened, and she was quietly contemplating her last moments, realizing that an understanding of the laws of probability, so helpful when teaching college statistics, was suddenly a curse right now. Every once in a while Laurie would grin up at her and Sharon again thought of all those people spinning helplessly around, sitting on little tiny seats, their legs dangling free in the air. It definitely didn t look safe. But now it was too late. They were here. She'd managed to steer Laurie away from the line for the front seat. This was going to be bad enough without having a spectacular and unimpeded view of the entire park and the sky scrolling wildly in front of her eyes as they went. Once they were strapped in, Sharon went strangely numb. It actually wasn't so bad. She felt very safe, or as safe as one could feel in this situation. She heard the attendant say "Dispatch! Enjoy your ride!" and they were off! It was over almost too quickly. Sharon grinned wildly as she staggered out of her seat, nearly clipping her shoulder on the edge of the doorway. "That was very life- affirming," she said above the roar of the music and the crowd. "I'd definitely go on it again! It was great! I loved it! But you know, it was a little too short." Behind her, Laurie struggled to maintain her balance, frowning slightly. Sharon could have sworn she heard her say "Damn! I wish I'd brought my vertigo pills." [Ed. Note: There was no Great Adventure III.] ------- CHAPTER 4 Monday, October 17, 1994 Cousin Margaret Scores! By Pam Rush ONE WEEK AGO at "Sophie's Cards, Gifts & Deli" Pamela, like all FoDs, was always meticulous in her attention to the niceties of social observances, but her trip to Sophie's -- the only greeting card and deli shop in the area -- to find a birthday card for her sister had resulted in the serendipitous discovery of some quite marvelously appropriate Halloween cards. She was just adding another copy of the "PMS Halloween" card to her stack -- it was bound to be popular -- when her eye was caught by.... .... oh, my: there were many cards featuring vampires of various degrees of verisimilitude but one, and only one, the featured VAMPIRE UNDERWEAR! Not given to unseemly displays of glee in public, Pamela merely smiled as she hurried to the checkout counter. *** It had been tricky, very tricky; but Pamela had negotiated carefully and lengthily with the anonymous Knightie, "Deep Throat," for the vital information. Finally, although the cost was great, the secret was *hers*! "Deep Throat," the anonymous informant (whose initials were S. "Nick is Not a Whimp" S.), had revealed the snail-mail address of the secret lair of the nefarious Cousin Margaret of the Unique Mind, underwear expert extraordinaire and handmaiden to the deranged soi-dissant vampire LaCroix. Carefully, Pamela added a clever note to the incredible VAMPIRE UNDERWEAR card and sealed, addressed and stamped it. Noting that it should be mailed by Oct. 25th to arrive for Halloween, she stored it under her desk calendar on top of the four or five inches of other important stuff kept there. I regret to say that she gloated, but only in private. *** SAT-SUN,about 1:00 AM, at home Pamela had arrived home very late -- right at the witching hour -- but with the satisfaction of knowing that meetings were well met, motions well moved and doings well done and in the happy anticipation of a leisurely, FoDly, Sunday to follow. Friday's and Saturday's mail and newspapers were on the hall table and she glanced at them half-heartedly. Then her heart stood still, her blood ran uphill, her eyes glazed over and her hair turned white (gotta blame it on someone!) in shock. Gingerly, she picked up the familiar orange envelope: right colour, right size, right style, WRONG addressee. It was addressed in an assured and sensual script to Pamela herself and the return address was that of the secret lair of Cousin Margaret Newman! What deviltry was this?! What black arts confounded her??!! WHAT HAD THE UNIQUE MIND WROUGHT???!!! Cautiously, Pamela tiptoed down the hall and slipped into the master bedroom bath where she ran a full tub of water; holding the orange envelope over the tub, she opened it very carefully and breathed once more when no explosion ensued. But, as she had imagined and feared, out of the envelope slipped the VAMPIRE UNDERWEAR card! With cute little notes written in the margins. CUTER and CLEVERER -- especially the one labelled "Nigel" -- than the one she had herself written on its twin and secreted under her calendar. Pamela began to laugh helplessly, utterly at the mercy of the UNIQUE MIND. "Oh, dear," she said. "I give up," she admitted. "Oh, uncle (so to speak)," she cried, laughing until she had to sit down on the bath mat. About that time, John, who'd been sleeping the sleep of one not addicted to late night syndicated tv programming, arose from his bed, awakened by the disturbance, somewhat although not entirely resembling the pale remanent of the Knightie's dreams in that he, too, looked unshaven and pretty scruffy taken unawares at 1:17 in the morning. "Have you been drinking?" he inquired solicitously of his unglued beloved. She could only burble incoherently and wave the orange card at him. Even upside down, he easily recognized the *infamous* subject of the greeting card. "Terrific," he commented snarkily, "more underwear wars, I suppose." "No, no," she gasped between spasms of giggles, "I think this one just about *finishes* off the underwear wars. My campaign has been outflanked, out manoeuvered and out gunned." "Hot damn," he said, perking up, "can I have my shorts back now?" "Yeah, I guess so. But, John-- " "Hmmm?" "Uh, I need to borrow a pair of your pajamas." "What?" "You know, paja--" "I *heard* you, I just can't believe you. What are you going to--" Still clutching the card like a talisman, Pamela scrambled to her feet and moved closer to her confused spouse. She stared him straight in the eye and commanded in a mesmerizing monotone: "You are very sleepy." "I am...very sleepy...." "This has all been a bad dream." "--bad dream--" "You will go back to bed and sleep soundly until 9:00 AM when you will awake with an urgent desire to take your wife out for brunch." Gee, this mesmerizing thing really had a lot of possibilities. *** So, Pamela reflected a little later, Margaret had won the Halloween VAMPIRE UNDERWEAR skirmish. She was supreme on the battlefield and a fast on the draw to boot. But even as the sleep of the really exhausted and temporarily defeated overtook Pamela, images flickered across her febrile mind: Halloween...Thanksgiving...Christmas.... Yes, Christmas cards. Cards with, with vampires...and underwear...and exotic pajamas... and frumpy old dressing gowns...and frou- frou, antebellum peignoirs.... Yes; she would start shopping tomorrow.... LJC Sighs With Resignation By Tara "LJC" O'Shea From: LJC (johanna@hydra.unm.edu) Subject: War and Peace To: Janette (raven@raven.com) They're at it again, you know. Should I, or shouldn't I? You know it's hard for me to stay and the sidelines and watch, for all my talk of fence sitting, even I like a little blood now and again. Though I don't attack, this is true, I can always defend. So, shall I? LJC *** From: Janette (raven@raven.com) Subject: Re: War and Peace To: LJC (johanna@hydra.unm.edu) My dear, you will do whatever you damn well please, and you and I both know it. Miklos says hallo, by the way. I didn't know you knew him. J. "Victims. Aren't we all?" - Eric Draven I'm Going To Regret This By Valerie Meachum "No," Valerie muttered to herself as she hung up the phone. "No, no, no, no, no. I do *not* have time for this. I *don't*." She didn't. Work had been very nuts, and it was impossible to log in even on her mostly-nonexistent lunch hours these days. And but two weeks remained before the Wild and Woolly Witch Workout, known to less-informed souls as Macbeth, had to be ready for public consumption, which meant long and tiring rehearsals. Which meant no time for a bloody WAR! But, alas, such things could not be chosen. Nat's information had been sketchy, but it seemed the Cousins were mobilizing. It had only been a matter of time, really; she was surprised they had taken so long, though July seemed like yesterday in some ways. She really wasn't sure if she was ready for this. She really wasn't sure what she could do. But she had to be there, ready for anything, lend whatever hand was needed. That's what NatPackers *do*. She only hoped the hand wouldn't get bitten off... Where's Dawn? By L. Dawn Steele A chill wind swept through the empty apartment, ruffling piles upon piles of articles. Textbooks occupied all the available chairs and loose-leaf sheets from various assignments were blown about the room. The apartment had a faintly desolate look to it. It was if the occupant only came there to eat, sleep and change clothes before heading back to school. The secret stash of Die-Hard items, was hidden beneath the stack of Negative Ion papers. Someone determined to steal them could find the stash after some effort, but a casual curiosity seeker would be defeated. Despite it all though, remains of chocolate feasts past could still be scented in the kitchen, and the towel in the bathroom was damp. Perhaps in a couple of weeks, the occupant would check her e-mail and realize that another war was occurring. She might even join in. Until then... Diary Entry By Laurie M. Salopek I didn't exactly succeed this weekend, but I didn't fail either. After all the jostling between vendettas, I managed to equalize myself on the scorecard with the NatPacker and the Ravenette. Uncle would not be disappointed, but he would not be impressed. I have no recourse but to e-mail the other cousins and ask for help. I will be leaving her shortly to traverse the wide black highway home to State College. Fortunately, all my brethren are reachable by e-mail. Sharon will head back to New York and start collecting the rest of the Nat Packers for the final blow with Susan and the rest of the Ravenettes as assistants. It was not a surprise that the clueless uncalculating Knightie's convoluting and cacophony of convalescing cacca was only muffled by the meandering menace of the mangles of meaningless peach fuzz on Nick chin. If he shaved it, Janette may just relent and give him another clue to spend for an episode. Last and least are the FoDs who can organize themselves but only when the potential food in front of them is free; thick groups of pompous poetic pigs whose main interest are the potential smorgasbord laid before them on laminated liaisons of previously lose libations of lethargic legume. No reason to waste brain cells on the thought's of their threats. Still I must not let my guard down. I must not relent (even if no factions posse a threat on the horizon of my victory). I leave before noon tomorrow. *** Translation For The Above Post [Ed. Note: Originally sent as a separate message on Mon, 10 Oct 1994 10:52:42 EDT] Susan and Sharon were kind to point out that I should write a translation for my last post.... >> It was not a surprise that the clueless uncalculating Knightie's convoluting and cacophony of convalescing cacca was only muffled by the meandering menace of the mangles of meaningless peach fuzz on Nick chin..<< Translation: Nick's peached fuzzed chin is equivalent to Cacca. >> Last and least are the FoDs who can organize themselves but only when the potential food in front of them is free; thick groups of pompous poetic pigs whose main interest are the potential smorgasbord laid before them on laminated liaisons of previously lose libations of lethargic legume.<< Translation: FoDs eat regurgitated plastic leaves. Thank You for you attention. Lacroix Seeks Nick's Aid By Sandra Gray Nick got into the Caddy. As he pulled out of the garage, he had to brake sharply as a dark shape appeared in front of the car. The tall, black clad figure smiled sardonically at him, his pale eyes gleaming in the car's headlights. For a moment, Nick considered running him over. He switched off the car, got out, and approached the man warily. "What do you want, LaCroix?" "Not even a hello, Nicholas? Your manners have become appalling. But then you do run with a common class of mortals these days, don't you?" "What do you want?" LaCroix sighed. "I want to discuss Susan Garrett." Nick frowned, perplexed. "Susan Garrett?" "Come, Nicholas, you can't have forgotten her already. She writes fiction about us on that fiction list--the woman who was going to burn the `cures' that people had sent you through the mail." He smiled. "I take it none of them worked." Nick thought briefly about a couple of concoctions that had made him ill. No, none of the "cures" had worked. But he did remember Susan Garrett now. He ignored LaCroix's comments about the cures and said, "I remember her. Why do you want to discuss her?" LaCroix ran a hand across the caddy's hood. Then he looked at Nick and said, "I think she may have attracted Enforcer interest." Nick frowned again. "Enforcer interest? Why?" "Her fiction. She's discovered--secrets about the Community. Secrets she's used in her stories." Nick thought back even further to the first conflict involving their mortal followers on the list. Janette had mentioned an "archivist" story. The idea had bothered him at the time, but Janette had not seemed worried that it would attract attention. "Nicholas?" Nick turned his attention back to LaCroix. "Why are you telling *me* this?" LaCroix sighed. "You've made these mortals your pets--" "They're not pets; they're friends of mine. Besides, since when have you cared about mortals?" "People change. Even vampires. I could have killed you for what you did to me, but I didn't. And haven't." Nick studied LaCroix silently for a few moments, then said, "That still doesn't explain why you came to me. Susan Garrett was and is a follower of Janette. You should be talking to her, not me." "Janette encourages her. I want your help." "My help?" "Yes. Between the two of us, I believe we can save Ms. Garrett from an--unpleasant--fate. The Community wished to destroy Emily Weis because of the sensitive nature of her material." Nick swallowed and remembered briefly the feeling of Emily's body in his arms. Then he focused on LaCroix again. "Emily Weis' work was best seller material. Susan Garrett's stories reach a limited readership. I don't see any comparison at all." "No? The Enforcers made a mistake in letting Ms. Weis' work become popular. It's a case of nipping a future problem in the bud." Nick considered LaCroix's statement for a few moments. If he was telling the truth... But Nick was suspicious. He'd known LaCroix to be too deceitful in the past. But what game was he playing this time? "You don't bear her a grudge for threatening to burn those `cures,' do you?" "What is it you want--us--to do?" "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something." "LaCroix, unlike you, I do have a *job.*" "You can convince them to give you time off." It was true, of course. Nick could think of several ways to get time off from work. "I'll even call a truce between our factions." "What?! Have your people been stirring up trouble again?" "They have attacked no Knighties as yet. And won't, if you'll agree to help me." Nick glared at LaCroix. The last war should have been the end of it! Yet, here he was saying- - "Well, Nicholas?" Nick decided it might be better to do some checking on his own. Perhaps get in touch with some of his followers. "I'll need some time to make arrangements to get off work. Which is where I should be going *now,* in fact." "Very well, Nicholas. I'll need to contact my people about the truce anyway. Shall we meet tomorrow night?" "All right." LaCroix smiled. "I knew I could count on your chivalrous instincts winning out, Nicholas. Until tomorrow then." And he rose up into the night sky. Nick watched him for a moment. Then he got out his cordless phone and called Schanke. "Schank. Something's come up and I'll be a little late for work. Can you cover for me?" "Yeah, sure, Nick, but--" "Thanks." He cut the connection. Then he got back in his car and headed for the Raven. With her contacts, if there was Enforcer interest building in Susan Garrett, Janette would be sure to know. And if she didn't know anything, he had other sources of information. Nick didn't notice the man on the roof across the street. Nor did he see him fly away in the direction LaCroix had gone. Nick Consults Janette By Sandra Gray Nick got in his car and headed for the Raven. As it was still fairly early in the evening, the club was sparser of people than usual. Janette was standing at the bar having a drink. He walked over to her. She turned as he approached and, smiling, said, "Nicolah! What a pleasant surprise! But why so serious? No, don't tell me. Let me guess. Someone's been murdered and you've come to me for help with the case." "No. No one's been murdered...yet. I've just had a strange conversation with LaCroix." Janette raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "Oh? And what has he said that has made you look so grim?" Nick glanced around the club. Despite the relative emptiness of the club, he didn't care to discuss the Enforcers in such a public forum. "Can we go in the back?" Janette shrugged and led the way into the back room. Once there, she turned to him and said, "So, Nicolah, what has LaCroix said that is so important that you felt you must come back here to discuss it with me?" "He told me that one of your...followers...has attracted Enforcer interest." Janette had lighted a cigarette and blew smoke at him. "Oh? And who did he say had attracted such interest?" "Susan Garrett." "Susan Garrett? Why?" "He said she'd used secrets of the vampire Community in her fiction." Janette took another draw of her cigarette. "So do you know anything about this, Janette? Is what he's told me true?" Janette tapped some ash off her cigarette. "I've heard nothing of that nature at all." "Has Susan been in contact with you?" "No." Nick frowned. "Then why would LaCroix tell me such a thing?" "What exactly did he tell you?" Nick explained. "Well, *I've* heard nothing of the sort. Perhaps it is some game that he is playing with you. You know how he is." Nick stood there, frowning again, as Janette walked up behind him and trailed a hand across his shoulders. "I'd ignore him," she said. He looked at her. "So you're not concerned--about Susan?" "No, I'm not concerned. Believe me, Nicolah, if there *was* some danger to her from the Enforcers, I would have heard about it." She walked away from him and turning, said, "It's some game of LaCroix's. He probably hopes to have a chuckle at your expense when you wait for him tomorrow night and he doesn't show." Nick considered this. It was like LaCroix to torment him for his own amusement. But just to be on the safe side, he'd be available. LaCroix, after all, was not above using Susan Garrett in whatever game he had in mind for him. "I'll keep my schedule free, anyway, just in case." Janette arched her eyebrows and sighed. "As you wish." Then she approached him and said, "But if he doesn't show, remember you have the night off. Come see me." She was very close to him, her fragrance as enticing as a flower garden after an evening shower. He said after a moment, "I'll keep it in mind." Then he added, "But, right now, I have to get to work." Janette sighed and walked away from him. And he turned and left her there. ------- CHAPTER 5 Tuesday, October 18, 1994 Trouble's Afoot By Sandye Chisholm Cousin Sandye and Cousin Dennis stood at the balcony door and watched him go, almost half-believing everything they had just been told. They hadn't realized it had already started to rain, until Dennis turned his head towards Sandye and drenched her with the spray that flew from his long, blonde locks. "I already a bath, Dennis. Why don't you try Shane, he could use a scrubbing." Sandye wiped the water from her ear; she could barely hear Dennis. Poor Laurie must have been in some state at that flume ride in Jersey. Well, they'd get that Ravenette as soon as she figured out how to dry out her inner ear. "That's better, no what was that you said?" "I said, that I can't believe Uncle and Nick are in on this together. And I don't mumble." "I didn't say you mumble!" "You implied it. Oh, never mind. Looks like it's going to be quite a rout of all those ravenettes and natpackers. Never underestimate the power of men when they get together. All that testosterone..." "Yeah, yeah, enough of that. Let's stick with the plan, OK Dennis. Really; if you weren't so bloody cute..." But Dennis was, very cute. Long blonde hair, tall, and could that boy sing. But they were just friends. What a weapon to use on those poor Natpackers. WE all know how very much they liked blonde guys. Dennis was looking his usual gorgeosity when he gently reminded her of the necessity of action. "I think we should start to figure out the details. LaCroix said to get the troops together. And I've already got that private detective working non-stop to get the dirt on Susan. She won't know what hit her." Poor Susan. She'd only been doing what came naturally to her. Even the hotel clerk in Toronto complimented her on her flexibility. She good at getting around. Well, that her writing. But she had gotten just a bit too close to the secrets of the more masculine of the three immortals, and both LaCroix and Nicholas were getting annoyed at how accurate Susan had become at guessing all the intricate and delicate details of their unique lifestyle. She had even discovered some of their oldest and most awe-inspiring comrades; Susan surely had a knack for finding and opening old boxes. Let's face it though; some boxes aren't meant to be found, nor have their dusty lids wiped clean. If Susan was going to play Pandora, she was going to find out the hard way that LaCroix knew more of the evils that inhabited that particular cache; after all, he put some of them in there. Sandye could not dream of what horrors might await her renegade friend. "Earth to Sandye, are you in Sandye?" "What?" The expression of complete and utter confusion had barely faded from her face. "The plan, oh great one? Shouldn't we go and tell Laurie?" "Good idea. We have to feed Trouble about this time anyway." She grabbed her keys and started across the hall. One thing stood in her way; a huge wolf-dog named Shane. "Now that's a handsome man." Stroking his thick fur and patting his knobby head, Sandye and Dennis left to go across the hall to Cousin Laurie's apartment. After fumbling with the keys, and jingling them in salutatory honour to an old memory, they went in and closed the door behind them. "Trouble sweetie, come to Aunt Sandye." The sleek black cat meandered out from under the couch, always a darling, always a beauty. But something was different. His eyes were just a bit greener and his teeth, well they were just a wee bit- "Holy Eye-teeth! Trouble's been turned!" Dennis was right. Trouble now bared the fangs of the vampyre-kitty that he had so often pretended to be; what in the world would Laurie say? Trouble sauntered past them, not really caring what they thought, but still his usual adorable self. Sandye reached down, ever so carefully, to pick him up. The black fur once again in her hands, she petted him and got him to start purring; the teeth retracted and he was back to his old self. Well, sort of. "What does this mean?" Dennis handed her a note that had been slid under the door of Laurie's apartment. They hadn't noticed it when they first came in. They read it in silence. It was all too clear. "So how come Uncle didn't tell us that he was going to start to turn our pets? Did you know about this Sandye?" "Me? Why do you always think knew something. It says right here in the note that he didn't tell us because. Just because. And because he's LaCroix, that's reason enough. So the old boy wants our pets to go out and do our dirty work for us? Well, that does keep up with the rule that none of us are supposed to cross over. I just love it when a plan comes together." They stood there basking in the delightful consideration that their pets were going to be the messengers of bad tidings to all those Natpackers and Ravenettes that got in Uncle's way. How deliciously fun, how- "Did you say the note read, `OUR PETS'?" Dennis barely cracked the words out of his tight throat. Sandye, wide-eyed and full of dread, dropped Trouble the second her jaw hit the floor. "Oh, no!" They ran back across the hall, only to be greeted by a smiling green-eyed wolf named Shane. Just as she thought she'd faint, Dennis screamed, obviously hearing something Sandye did not. Out of the kitchen came a small, gray bird. Sandye whispered in Dennis' ear. "Did Gandy always have green eyes?" "No." Gandy flew up and landed on Shane's broad back. He opened his menacing beak, and said, "We're grilling!" The door slammed shut as Dennis and Sandye fell backwards and out onto the very hard hallway floor. The Party's Over By Sharon Himmanen To: Natalie Selma Jennie Hayes
From: Sharon Himmanen Subj: The party's over Just returned from my weekend at Susan's. Natalie, you were right to be a bit worried, although things didn't work out quite as Cousin Laurie planned I think. She pulled a few Cousin-ish tricks, involving amusement park rides, and is now claiming that the weekend ended in a stalemate. Actually things are a little better than that for our side. Not only did her torment of me completely backfire because I *liked* the Batman ride (it was really cool!), but we made her really work to get ten bucks from each of us for a dry shirt. Later that evening, I got ten bucks out of each of *them* for a stuffed monkey without any effort at all. In fact, they were only too glad to throw money down for me! All I had to say was, "Gee, I'd really like a stuffed monkey." Plus, I think Laurie was a little impressed that I actually went on the Batman ride with her. Definite points there. So, I think this had the potential to develop into something ugly, but it was suitably defused this weekend. Maybe Susan and I were the test case for something bigger. Maybe Laurie was just trying to amuse herself for a while. Who knows. In any case, she'll need time to dry out and try to figure out just what went wrong this weekend. I think this basically means everything's back to normal. Or at least as "normal" as they can be. Cheers, Sharon Limited Engagements By Susan Garrett They were gone. With a sigh of relief, Susan plopped down before her computer. Sharon H. had managed to get a seat on the VERY crowded 319 bus into NYC, while Cousin Laurie should be wending her way across the vastness of NJ to her home in Pennsylvania. The party at Susan's house had gone well, with Mo, Bill, Ron the Enforcer, and Cousin Ed also in attendance. It had been, all in all, a satisfying weekend. Not only had Susan discovered that Paulie was back on "The Commish" (Yeah, Paulie!), but the laserdisc of "Nightmare Before Christmas" would also contain "Frankenweenie" and "Vincent." And then there was the fact that she was warm, dry (well, her sneakers were still wet but she'd give them a day or so more), and had a hedgehog. Life was good. Rather pleased with herself and thrilled that Cousin Laurie had been thoroughly trounced into submission by her soaking (surely her post of Sunday night proved that she was no longer in her right mind or in any mind, for that matter), Susan sat down at her keyboard and sent a message. *** From: SusanG2522@aol.com Subject: War in progress To: Petlist@alt.raven.to Dearest fellow Ravens/Ravenettes: I am beginning to suspect that Cousin Laurie's attempts to win her way back into Uncle's good graces are doomed to failure and shouldn't overly concern us. In fact, I think her bark may be far worse than her bite and that her reputation far exceeds her capacity for damage. Her `attack' at Great Adventure was futile at best and my revenge was swift and soaking. She might not be dry for days. Not to mention that her attack on that Nat-Packer Sharon backfired completely--Sharon LIKED the Batman ride. You never know about these Nat-Packers, do you? In any case, I think any fears that we may have about an escalation of hostilities may be exaggerated. Which may be just as well, with Hilary traversing the country like some misdirected Ozian Lewis or Clark (you never know what those Knighties will get into). With the threat of Cousin Laurie effectively `neutered,' should we fear Cousin Monica (who turned her back on our darkly decadent boss- lady)? Or any of the Cousins any longer? I say kick back, have a couple on me, and stand down. It's all quiet on the Garrett front. But forward any notices of untoward happenings from elsewhere, please. My contacts at the post office (night- delivery) have confirmed an unusual number of packages containing underwear and pajamas criss-crossing the US (well, one have to keep track of these things . . . ). With fondest regards and an all clear, SusanG2522@aol.com Faithful Ravenette. *** With another sigh, Susan sat back, sent the message, then opened the word processor. Let's see, she was on Chapter 24, and Nick was just about to-- Special Delivery By Karin Welss YOU HAVE NEW MAIL Susan blinked in annoyance as her email dialog box popped up in the middle of her word processor screen. Susan sighed, abandoned Nick in the middle of his heroic efforts to accomplish something or the other, and switched windows to her email. A few seconds passed as her computer whirred and beeped, downloading messages from America On-Line. YOU HAVE THREE NEW MESSAGES the program informed her helpfully when it had finished downloading. Susan glanced at the envelope information. Karin... Jennise... Dorian. Wait a minute. DORIAN!? With trembling fingers, Susan brought up the message. *** TO: SUSANG FROM: DORIAN@VAMP.ARCHIVE.COM SUBJECT: YOU HAVE BEEN SUMMONED Susan M. Garrett, you have been summoned for an Interview. Although you are a mortal, your knowledge regarding our Community has enabled me to invoke the "special circumstances" clause of the the Code. My assistants Karin and Jennise are now in your area, making the appropriate arrangements for your Interview, should you choose to stand. They will be contacting you shortly. I trust you are aware of your options should you choose to decline an Interview. Sincerely Dorian, the Archivist. *** Susan sat back, and expelled a long breath. What was she going to do? She allowed herself approximately fifteen seconds of sheer panic, then brought up her online Rolodex. Who could help her? Who owed her favours? Dorian. Shit. No wonder Natalie Lambert had been in contact with SharonH... too bad she hadn't been a little clearer. Susan scrolled thoughtfully down the list of people in her Rolodex database. Nicholas. No way. Nice guy, for a vampire. Even if he was a little... dense. Uncle. Who was she kidding? Janette... maybe. But how much help could Janette be against the Archivist? And how much trouble would Janette get into if she condescended to assist a mere mortal? Susan paused the scrolling function at RON THE ENFORCER, and tapped a short but carefully polished fingernail against the cold glass of the computer screen. An Enforcer... Um, yes. Just the person she needed to contact for advice. When Truth Is Stranger Than Fiction By Sandye Chisholm Laurie still hadn't arrived home. No matter how long it took, she had to wait for her, to prepare her for the shock of Trouble's crossing over. And when your pet gets a booster of immortality, it takes a bit of getting used to. Shane had certainly grasped the finer points of the deal; nothing I could ever do to him to punish him for chewing through the garbage or the stereo for that matter, was going to have any efficacy again. Well, that's what happens when you start hanging out with vampyres. Just then the phone rang. It was the private detective that Dennis had hired to keep a watch on Susan Garrett. Maybe he'd dug up something really juicy; or maybe it was just another of Diego's hidden treasures. Poor Walter. I wonder how he'd take the gift when one of the Maniacal Menagerie got a hold of him. "Hello. Oh, it's you Dribbler. What have you found out about-" Sandye screamed so loudly that all of the car alarms in the parking lot went off at once. Dennis came running down the hall, and using his spare key, unlocked her apartment door and flew to her side. "Sandye, what's going on?" "Oh my God. Dennis, you won't believe this. Dorian wants Susan." Dennis was speechless. Now if he would only close his mouth, that drool was just a little bit too much for Sandye right now. After all, this was all too spooky. "Dorian. What does he want with Susan? Cold Christ, it's that story, isn't it? LaCroix was right, this going to get serious; now I see. That's why Nick threw in with Uncle. But what about Susan?" That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question. What about Susan? If Dorian wanted her, then it would take everything LaCroix and Nick had to take him down. The thought sent chills running through her. Sure she'd wanted to help Uncle, and Nicholas, to control Susan, but at least she knew what Uncle had in mind. And Nick would never hurt Susan. Oh, he might drive her a wee bit crazy. But the guy who didn't know how old he was, or whether he was a wee nipper during the battle of Hastings could drive anyone to drink...Mortal and Immortal alike. But he blonde, and very, very sexy. But Dorian, she only knew him from the stories. Uncle had told her how he had tracked them down, and "interviewed" them. These were not the tales that one could fall asleep to; no rather these were the ones that kept you up at night, not trusting the darkness for a single moment. What would Dorian do with Susan? And who could be trusted, in this game of destiny and power? They couldn't trust Natalie, that was for sure. Not after she had bonded with Dorian, not after she had taken care of him, had saved him. And Janette was out too. She wouldn't want to risk matching veins with that immortal; not after what he did to her. She might be angry enough to hurt him, but it was hard to wipe out old fears, it was hard to heal old wounds. She might try, for Susan's sake, but without LaCroix and Nicholas, this would be like lambs to the slaughter. The voice from the other end of the phone still wheezed through the receiver. " Sorry, I forgot about you...what? Your there right now? And two females, very beautiful you say, are in front of Susan's place? Don't lose them, whatever you do. More than life depends on it." Sandye hung up the phone, while Dennis ran to get her the notebook in which she kept all of the plans for the war. "Jennise and Karin. It has to be them. Dorian must have sent them to get Susan." "Weren't they the one's that got turned in the last war?" Dennis had come late to the fold, but he had a keen mind for details; very, very blue keen eyes. "Bingo." "But Sandye, this is no time for games!" Blue eyes don't always make up for everything, she thought. "Nevermind. We've got to tell the others. Get your stuff and meet me at the car." "Road-trip, `eh? And the destination?" "If I'm not mistaken Dennis, I think we'll be taking the side-trip to hell." "Better get my speedo's then....ouch!" Sandye reached down to get another pen. Sometimes blue eyes and blonde hair are just not enough. The Search For A Loophole By Susan Garrett Still more than a little stunned by the e-message she'd received, Susan hastily assembled a note: *** From: SusanG2522@aol.com Subject: Dorian To: Ron the Enforcer Dearest Ron: I appreciated the visit of your magnificence to my humble abode the other evening. But, to cut the bull, I'm in it hip deep. I've gotten a message from Dorian--yes, HIM-- and I'm to be interviewed. Since most of my ill-gotten knowledge about the Code comes from having traded prime copies of "King Ghiderah" and "Destroy All Monsters" to one of the one of the vampire civil servants in Fort Wayne (Have you there? Geez, couldn't you guys get them a better building or something?), I wasn't aware of this special clause nonsense and I'm hoping like hell that there's maybe some loophole--like a Susan-sized loophole--I can slip through. The last thing I want is bloodshed. I'm lucky that Karin and Jennise are Dorian's current assistants, they might be able to cut me some slack . . . but not much. I know you guys have your own Codes, and that you've been stretching the leeway for me, but if you could get me some reference material without breaking the rules, I'd appreciate it. Thanks SusanG *** After the message disappeared from her screen, Susan disconnected the modem and picked up the phone. She was going to need heavy duty help on this. The phone rang twice before she heard the snap of bubblegum and a bored, "Yeah, Raven. We open at--" "Alma, this is Susan G." There was a sudden intake of breath, an annoyed, "Susan ? I don't know any--" "Don't you hang up on me," warned Susan, with as much threat as she could muster. "Or Janette finds out where you got Tom Cruise's phone number!" "Oh." Another gum snap. "Okay." Gum snap again. "Y'know, he's one of us--" "That's what I tried to tell you," explained Susan, with as much patience as she could muster. "I need to talk to Janette. Now." Alma hummed beneath her breath. "She . . . uh . . . isn't taking calls right now." "From me? Or from anyone?" "Anyone named `Susan,'" answered Alma. Susan took in a breath and released it slowly. "Alma, just tell her I called." "Okay. Uh, do you have Brad Pitt's num--" "He's not one of you, either," said Susan quickly. "Damn." There was a pause, another gum pop, then Alma said, "Look, what's the worst that could happen? Maybe you'll get brought across. Ooooo, cute guy just walked in. Gotta-go-bye!" "But I don't --" The line went dead, the dialtone humming in Susan's ear. She sat down in front of her computer. There were times when being a Ravenette was a real pain in the armadillo, most of them involving dealing with Alma as go-between. She still wasn't certain why Janette kept her around--whether it was because she had hopes that Alma might actually develop a brain cell of two or because she wanted to keep her from getting into trouble elsewhere. There was a good possibility that Janette was trying to work things out from her end. There was also a good possibility that Janette had not only forgotten who she was, but had conveniently lost her name, address, phone number, and e- mail address. It would be up to Janette to contact her. Until then . . . well, what could she do? Running an option--Dorian had contacted her, which meant that if she ran she'd have to pay a forfeit. And she wasn't foolish enough to think she could avoid Dorian forever. After all, if he managed to find LaCroix all those years ago, what chance did she--a mere mortal--have? Boiling up another cup of tea, Susan decided to sink down and have a hard think. And maybe some chocolate. The Writing On The Wall By Sandye Chisholm When Laurie arrived home from her recon-mission to Jersey, she went straight to her apartment, no doubt collapsing on her futon couch. That's why Dennis had put the note there, on her coffee table; there was no way for her to miss it. But why hadn't she come over yet? She had to know that this was an emergency, of no mistake. Uncle and Nick had made it very clear; cousins and knighties were to adhere to the truce that made this new alliance possible. Did they know that Dorian was in the picture, his gray shadow hanging above us like some mythical picture in a gallery?. They had to have known, they just didn't tell us, that's all. Typical, really. At the mercy of creatures older than time, and always wanting to keep us half in the dark about everything. Well, for what it mattered, Sandye didn't mind. But Laurie did. Now there was a renegade.... Uncle had admired her spunk, though more times than not, that "spunk" had almost gotten her sunk. Into the waters of Uncle's pool of tears; Laurie seemed to always dive in head first. Well, the recurrent head injuries explain a lot. But did the great lupino ever learn? She was supposed to have proven to Uncle that she was still a cousin, but she hadn't yet responded to his latest call. The Blonde Brigands were back together and they were bad. But where was cousin Laurie? Sandye and Dennis could wait no longer. Under the cover of a Chaucerian phantom, they sneaked out of the complex and down to the stillness of the parking lot. Whispering, Sandye moved closer. "Let's take your car Dennis. You drive; Laurie will think we're still here." They crept over to the old blue beast and unlocked the door. Trying to be a quiet as one of Cousin John's lab mice, Sandye pulled the handle and- "WOOOOOOOOOOOF!" They looked up, aghast to see Sandye's wolf-hybrid leaping off of the balcony railing. Expecting a thud loud enough to wake the dead, they closed their eyes, and were surprised by the subtle tick of scraping paws on the roof of Dennis' car. "Bloody Hell. I forgot the guy could fly!" Sandye opened her eyes to see the sweet face of her favorite pooch. Now if she could only get used to these glowing green eyes. "So what do you think you're doing, Shane?" She scratched his ears as he laid down on the car, soaking up the glory, as well as the power. "Hello." A small grey bird waddled over and perched on Shane's knobby head. "Gandy, how did you....where are you....?" Poor Dennis. Fatherhood was really taking its toll. "Road-trip," Gandy cackled. "Cousin Tracy in Toronto...." and before any of us could stop him, the Great Gandolph flew up and out into the night. What really looked odd, was the huge, hairy quadropeid that lumbered through the air behind him. Dennis looked over to Sandye, who still couldn't figure out just how Shane had managed to hold the roadmap in his paw. "Well, I guess there's nothing we can do now. They must have a message for Cousin Tracy and her recent convert. Too bad they didn't think to tell what was going on....oh, well....what time is it, Dennis?" "It's ten o'clock. Do you know where your children are?" He titled his head and sniggered, in that mocking tone Dennis loved so well. "Yeah, on a non-stop flight to Canada." Sandye seemed very worried. "Well, look on the bright side. We won't have to worry about frequent flyer miles anymore.....ouch!" Dennis grabbed his ears. Too bad he had all that blonde hair. Sandye had to swing all that much harder to make sure he it through his curls. "Men." A disease, without a doubt. But, nothing a bullet wouldn't cure. Too bad they were just so . And too bad they knew it. How did she get herself mixed up in this stuff? Sometimes, she could almost see the appeal of being a ravenette. Well, maybe in another lifetime. Right now, it was Uncle and Nick calling the shots. And Dorian. There was nothing to do now but wait. Wait for the pets to get back from Toronto. Wait for Susan to be taken for her interview. Wait for Laurie to do something that would put everything into chaos. Wait for the others to join in the fray. Hopefully Hillary had contacted the Knighties. Tracy knew two of the strongest Die-hards, Kathy and Dawn, and perhaps even her love of garlic could lure a few of the FOD's into action. Everyone had an *ahem* stake in this. If Susan was prevented from writing completely, everyone would suffer. If she was allowed to meander through her pages unchecked, then LaCroix and Nicholas would have something to say about it, and that did now bode well either. Something more that this though, was in play in this game of words. Something that even LaCroix and Nick had not mentioned. It was there, hanging in the air like the stench of burned chicken. As they climbed the steps back into the apartment, Dennis said he could see the writing on the wall. And there it was, plain as day. 1066. "1066? Dennis, what's that supposed to mean? 1066? What does history have to do with this?" "Probably nothing. You know pays attention to history!" And Sandye..." who was still mumbling the date over and over to herself... "Yes, Dennis?" "Don't repeat yourself." This was going to be a long war. Testy Testosterone (or Skip The Fried Chicken) By Laurie M. Salopek Laurie almost missed the note laying on her coffee table as she dragged her suitcase into the back bedroom, it had been a long weekend and she felt like a peached fuzzed brick weighed in her stomach. Never buy fried chicken at Roy Roger s. She paused long enough to recognize the type style on the note; it was from Sandye. She figured it was just a lengthy expose on Trouble s latest adventure into new realms of mischievous feats. After unpacking, she dragged herself back into the living room, collapsed on the sofa and read the note. I don t believe this!! Only a couple blond vampires with an over abundant supply of testosterone would conceive of such a plan. She crumbled the note in her hands. Her stomach felt worse before a slight stab of pain. Never eat fried chicken from Roy Roger s. She had to do something before Uncle made a fool of himself, she didn t care about Nick, he had already shown a penchant for large open mouths with inserted feet. But Uncle, no, she couldn t let him align with Nick on this one. Sometimes, in his arrogance, Uncle had a tendency to underestimate those close to him. If she let him continue with the plan, it would fail and most likely backfire in his face. There was nothing to found in Susan s stories. They were just wonderful fantasies that followed logical progressions, and since those progressions were solid, they tailored themselves along very real lines. But, she would never purposely write stories to expose them. Janette would never stand for that. Back to New Jersey. Uncle isn t going to like this. She delicately flung her legs over the side of the couch and sat up. He won t understand. I am just going to have to TRY and MAKE him understand...riiiight. Question was, should she tell Susan she was coming back? No, both phones and email would be too risky. If she was lucky, she could get to Susan before them and hopefully hid her until the vampire s male episode of PMS was over and they came to their senses. She would have to be very careful since, the more she thought about it, Nick seemed to have found a clue and was now setting up LaCroix. Well, there was one fortunate aspect to the whole thing, Nick was only good for one clue and even then he usually was unsure of what to do with it. And there was another fortunate aspect to the whole thing, Laurie s version of unpacking was dumping the contents of her suitcase on the bed to deal with later. Dumping the contents back into her suitcase, dirty underwear and all, she zipped it shut and dragged it back out into the living room. It was late enough and, Sandye and Dennis were studying for a test, for her to sneak back out of the apartment and down the stairs. Once outside, she started for her red Ford Probe, that looked exactly like it did before Jean blew up the inside. No, if she took that car, Sandye and Dennis would know something was up, she only used the Probe for long trips. This time she would take the Spirit and hope it had the guts to make the trip in one piece. Five and one half hours, that is how long it would take to get there. That and another twenty to thirty bucks for gas and tolls. One consolation, the Spirit had a better tape deck than the Probe and she wanted to finish listening to the rest of the Star Wars trilogy she had started on her return trip the first time from Susan s. She looked up at her cousin s apartment. The light was on and the curtains closed. Good, they were both busy and didn t expect a thing. Five and one half hours, not that long and this time she was not going to stop at Roy Roger s for fried chicken. Diary Entry 2 By Selma McCrory I got email from Sharon H. today. Not what I wanted to hear, but I suppose it's inevitable that they'd be up to their tricks again. The cousins, that is. I've written back to Sharon, and I've also dropped a note to Valerie. So, in consideration, I prepared my own offenses and defenses. Since my dear psychotic vampire, Vince, decided to pop by again, I sent him to see if he could dig up what LaCroix and the cousins were up to. He wasn't too happy, but I wouldn't be either with LaCroix as my master. At first he was demanding that in return for the information that I'd consent to being brought across. I refused to, and he let it pass, at least for now. Basically I told him that if I was brought across in any shape, way, or form, my first action would be to drag both of us into the sunlight. He mumbled something about Jennise that I didn't quite catch. So he's cooperating for the moment. For all I know, he could be cutting a deal with LaCroix. But I don't think he's stupid enough to do that. Well, now all I have to do is wait for everyone to answer my email and for dear Vince to return. Selma ------- CHAPTER 6 Wednesday, October 19, 1994 An Early Morning Rising By Sandra Gray One hand against the wall, I walked barefoot down the dark hallway to the kitchen. I had wakened from a dream that I could not remember but that had left me with a feeling of unease. And as was usual if I woke up in the middle of the night, I wanted a drink of Kool Aid. My thirst quenched, I started back into the dark hall. There was a definite chill of winter in the tile floor. I looked toward the picture window in the living room. A faint illumination from the parking lot light filtered through the venetian blinds and cast a barred pattern on the wall. I was just about to go back to my warm bed when I heard a faint sound outside the front door. One of the neighbors coming in probably. But for some reason I walked across the dark living room to the door and peeped out the keyhole. There was no one in the lighted hall, but I opened the door anyway. There was a red envelope in the middle of the floor. I stepped into the hall and picked it up. It was addressed to me. There was no stamp and no return address. Just my name in a bold black script. I closed the door again and locked it, then switched on a lamp near the door and opened the envelope. "I am in the area and will be stopping by to visit. LaCroix," read the folded note inside. "You know, you really should be careful about opening your door so late at night," said a low, cultured voice. I gasped and looked toward the picture window, where LaCroix himself stood! "But then you Knighties are such trusting souls." I opened my mouth to scream for Bruce, but LaCroix said, "I wouldn't. He could come to harm." As might my daughter Amanda, I suddenly realized. I closed my mouth. LaCroix smiled slightly and said, "Besides, it's you I came to see--not him." "What do you want?" LaCroix approached me. I stepped behind the recliner. He halted and said, "I just came by to see if you had given thought to the offer I made to you in July--during the last `War.'" My mind flashed to the memory of the isolated section of island beach, to LaCroix's chill fingers on my blouse, to his words, "I can fulfill you secret desires." I hardly noticed that he was suddenly very close to me until he said, "I see you still desire sex with a vampire." I felt my face flush. "If you become a Cousin, I can help you to fulfill that desire." "I could never be a Cousin," I managed to say. He raised an eyebrow. "No? Perhaps what you need is a--taste, hmmm?" His cold pale eyes gleamed into mine and I was frozen as, his hands on my shoulders, he leaned down to me. But instead of kissing me, his mouth moved lower--to my throat--and I felt him lick my neck s-l-o-w-l-y. I wasn't sure which feeling in me was stronger--terror or arousal. A shiver shot through my suddenly warm body and my heart pounded in my ears so hard it hurt. He pulled back to study me. He brushed a strand of my hair from my forehead and then yanked me against him. One of his arms slid around my waist and held me tight. The fingers of his other hand entwined in my hair and he pulled my head back. His cool lips came down on mine in an expert kiss that turned french style, his tongue in my mouth even chiller. Alarms went off in my head... ...and on the nightstand. Morning light was visible around the edges of the curtained window. Bruce switched off the alarm and yawned, "Mornin'." Just a dream. I sighed. Thank God--just a dream. It was not the first dream I'd had of LaCroix since his "offer" to me during the summer war, but I hoped it would be the last. Since Bruce had come up with the suggestion that each war faction could avoid "stolen" mail in the future by using their own separate mail drops instead of a "communal" one, the problem of the "War" had been solved--probably for good. There was no reason for another "War" and certainly no reason for LaCroix to remember one lone Knightie far south in Virginia. And Bruce would never need to know the whole story about his offer to me. As I took underwear out of my lingerie drawer, I paused to lift the liner and eye the business card Nick had given me before I had left his loft for the last time. He had offered me protection and aid, if I ever needed it, against LaCroix. Not that I ever would. The War was over. I'd probably never need to brave a fearful air flight to Toronto again in *my* lifetime. I walked into the kitchen and started breakfast... wishing that Bruce had the day off. Susan Gets Undressed By Sally Norton The doorbell was ringing. Susan did not want to open the door. She did not want to know who was on the other side of the door. The doorbell continued to ring. Susan stared at the door. The telephone rang. Susan picked up it warily. "Oh no," she thought, "This can't be happening . . . whatever `this' is." "Hello," she said softly. "Susan?" It was Karin. "You sound funny. What's wrong?" "Uhnn, nothing, really. I'm feeling a bit edgy. Someone's at the door." "Who?" "I don't know." Susan explained, "I haven't answered the door. I don't think I WANT to know who's out there. But they are persistent. The doorbell is ringing again. I wish they'd go away. I wish everybody and everything would GO AWAY." "Susan. SUSAN!" Karin burst out. "Calm down. That's probably Sally at the door. I sent her. Let her in." "Sally? Your dresser? Why?" "Yes. Yes. I'll explain. Go let her in. Now. She gets a bit testy." "Oh. Ok. Right. Hang on." Susan put the phone down and walked to the front door. She peeped out the tiny security peephole. "Why didn't I look before," she wondered. She couldn't see anything. The view was blocked by what looked like mounds of fabric. She opened the door. The mounds of fabric immediately surged into the room, stumbled to the nearest chair and tumbled forward, a spray of dark jewel colours in satin and lace. "GOOD GRIEF! You took your time. Didn't you hear the bell? I've out there FOREVER!!!" The speaker glared at Susan. She was annoyed. Her whole body screamed annoyance. This was definitely Sally. She was often annoyed. Also impatient, moody, and indecisive about everything in her life except clothes. Which is exactly why Jennise and Karin employed her. Jennise and Karin were known for their gorgeous clothes. Sally creates those clothes. Even Janette had looked with envy on one of Karin's chic little black dresses. "Uh, could you wait just a minute. I'm on the phone." Susan picked up the receiver. "Karin? She's here." "Oh good." Karin sounded pleased. "She's going to dress you for your interview with Dorian." "She's going to do WHA- WHAT?" Susan screeched. "Susan, you heard me." Karin explain patiently. "Sally is going to make an outfit for you to wear to The Interview. It's very important to be well dressed. It will give you confidence." "I HAVE AN ANCIENT VAMPIRE READY TO TURN ME INTO AN HORS D'OEVURE AND YOU"RE BABBLING ABOUT DRESSING FOR SUCCESS!!!!!!" There was silence on the phone. "No, Susan," Karin said quietly. "I have something else in mind. Lucinda." "Wha- Lu-." Susan paused. Then swallowed. "Oh. Lucinda. Uh, Karin, do you really think this is such a good idea?" Susan asked slowly. "Very." Susan thought she heard Karin's teeth grinding. Susan glanced at Sally. Sally was staring at Susan's body. Sally was muttering to herself and turning her head first to one side and then the other, changing her view of Susan slightly. "Karin?" "I'm still here. What's the problem, now?" Karin spoke slowly, as if talking to a recalcitrant child. "She's staring at me. And muttering." Susan sounded unnerved. "She always stares at people and she usually mutters." Karin spoke briskly. She sounded cheerful. "Just go along with her. Sally knows what she's doing. I've told her what we need. She'll just take some measurements. It won't hurt. I've got to go. Jennise is waiting. Bye." "Wait. No. I don't have time for this right now." Susan burst out in a rush. "I have to go. I have an appointment. Now." "It won't take long." Karin was soothing. "I'll see you soon. Bye." The phone clicked. Susan looked over at Sally. "Take your clothes off." "Huh?" Susan didn't think she heard what Sally said. "Take - your - clothes - off." Sally bit each word. "Why?" Susan challenged. Sally shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated manner. "Oh, dear God," she spoke to the ceiling, "Why am I always working with such idiots?" She looked at Susan. "Because," she explained slowly, "I cannot take accurrate measurements when you are dressed for a jaunt to the arctic circle." Sally smiled sweetly. It was a nauseating sight. Susan looked down at her baggy fisherman's sweater and sweatpants. "Oh. Yes. I see your point." She looked up. "Uh, where do you want to . . ." Her voice trailed off. Sally was just a wee bit more testy. "I don't care if you stand on the roof. Could we get on with it?" "Oh, yes." Susan interuppted. "Will this take long? I really do have to go. I have this appointment, you see. It's urgent. Uh . . . really urg-g-g-uh-HRUMP!" Susan's voice was muffled as Sally pulled the heavy sweater over Susan's head. "Sweatpants, too." Susan pulled off her sweatpants. Sally's eyes grew round as she Susan stood up. "Where did you get those undies?" Susan flushed. "They were a present," she muttered. "Fetching," smirked Sally. The next 15 minutes were odd for Susan. She stood mute while Sally measured every part of her body. Sally muttered to herself and scribbled on a notepad. Susan wondered if this is what it was like to be a model or an actress. Did Valerie have to do this? It was so impersonal. "I feel like a prop," Susan thought to herself. "Ok." Sally stood up. "Let's try a few things." Susan grabbed her sweater. "I'm sorry. I can't just now. I really have to go." Sally grabbed the sweater and tossed it on the sofa. "No, you don't. I want to you to try on a few things for me so I can see how they look on you. Karin and Jennise are so fussy. They gave me specific instruction. You have no idea what I go through if they don't get what they want." Sally was riffling through the pile of fabric while she spoke. "Now, turn around and I'll lace you up." "THAT'S A CORSET!!!" "Correct. How clever of you. Just place your hand there and stand still. I'm going to make one for you but, this one will do for right now. I just want to see how a couple of things look. You have to have the correct undergarments, you know. It's essential. There. Not so bad." "No-o-o-o-o," said Susan slowly. "It feels a little strange but, it doesn't hurt. I want to look at myself." "Go ahead." Sally picked up an armful of clothes and followed Susan. "It's rather pretty. I like the lace." Susan preened in front of the mirror. "Only, it doesn't look like me." Sally shook out a long skirt. "Of course it does. You look lovely. It's just different, that's all." She held out the garment to Susan. "Step into this." Sally hooked and buttoned and tied Susan into petticoat, corset cover, bustle, skirt, blouse, and jacket. Sally stepped back and looked at Susan from head to toe. "Not bad. A bit long. Karin is just a smidge taller, I think. The colour's good. I think a darked trim would be better for you." Sally continued to stare, analyzing the costume. Susan looked in the full length mirror. "What is this?" She sounded stunned. Sally was brisk. She was in her world, the one place where she didn't trip over anything, get lost, or forget people's names. The world outside a sewing room was a dangerous place for Sally. "THAT is a walking suit. It's very close to one that was made in 1883. The original is in the V&A. Karin wanted me to put a ruffle on the skirt but, I wasn't having any of that ranygazoo. Karin wants ruffles on EVERYTHING. These pleats are much better, more tailored. Do you like it?" Susan stared at herself. "I don't know." She answered slowly. "It's not me, somehow." "I rather take it that's the idea." Sally's words brought Susan back to reality with a thump. She swallowed. "Did Lucinda wear a suit like this?" she asked. Sally was folding the pile of clothes. She didn't look up. "Hers is in the V&A." Sally turned her head and looked at Susan. "This is the copy I made for Karin. Karin called it `insurance'." Sally stepped over to Susan. "Here, let me get you out of this. I just want to check a few colours and then we're done. I wonder if I should do a ballgown, just in case . . . " "In case of what?" Susan was startled. She was still admiring herself. She looked so different. So elegant. So imposing. She felt different. "In case Jennise has another one of her bloody last minute brainstorms! That's what!! She is CONSTANTLY wanting `a little something' for some bloody important party. She never gives me enough notice. She has no idea how long it takes to make things." Susan thought this sounded like an old complaint. Sally unhooked, untied, unlaced; then folded everything and in a moment, was gone. Susan stood alone in the room wearing her comfy old fisherman's sweater and baggy sweatpants. She looked around. Nothing. No one. Not a scrap of lace or silk or satin. "Did I imagine this?" she wondered. "Was Sally here? Did I talk to Karin?" Susan shook her head. She turned toward the kitchen. I need a cup of tea. She stopped halfway. "I had to go somewhere . . " she thought. She shook her head again. "Oh, well," she said aloud. "It can't have been that important. I do need that cup of tea." The Great Escape By Laurie M. Salopek The sun was still hiding when Laurie turned left towards Susan s apartment building. There outside stood Karin and Jennise. She slid down a bit in her seat and continued pass the two vampires and Susan's apartment building. Knowing she didn t have much time before sunrise, which would force the two of Uncle s misbegotten children to act quickly, Laurie ran towards the back of Susan's building. Susan tried to sleep, but Diablo (ok, that is what I call him :-) was doing his five am pace and she know that if she didn t take him out, there would be another wet spot on the living room rug. Just as she was about to walk out of her bedroom, Susan heard the, tap.....tap.....tap, of something hitting her window. When she did open the window she saw a frantic cousin waving her arms about wildly, have motioning for her to jump and half motioning for her to be quiet. "What are you doing here? I thought you went back to State College." "I did. No time to talk. Quick, you are gonna have to slide out the window and jump down!" Laurie felt her heart pounding. The two vampires would probably be forcing Susan's front door anytime now. "You're NUTS!" "Susan, for once in your life... TRUST ME!" "You're a Cousin!" "Yes! I am, but that doesn't mean I have to follow Uncle blindly. Now jump!!" Susan let her legs drape over the side of the window, turned her body around and then slide down the side of the building as far as the length of her arms would let her before letting go and falling the rest of the way to the ground. "Wait, what about Diego?" "Forget Diego, he has probably turned by now." "What?!" "Nevermind, just get in." The two friends piled in the copper AMC Spirit and cut a new path out of the apartment complex. Little patches of light were just beginning to show. "I think we made it. Damn, I hope we made it." "We are we going and what the hell is going on?!" Susan's Ravenette feathers were starting to ruffle. "New York. We are going to go visit a NatPacker." "Sharon?" "Yes." And then Laurie turned the car north on the Garden State Parkway and headed for what would hopefully be sanctuary. In Lukewarm Pursuit By Karin Welss Some hours after Sally's fitting session, and (unbeknowest to Karin and Jennise) after Laurie had kidnapped Susan for her own no-doubt nefarious ends, our two novice Archivist's Assistants grew suspicious. Karin and Jennise raced up the stairs to Susan Garrett's front door, still festooned with a lace scrap or two. As Karin pounded on the door, yelling, "Susan! Susan!" Jennise stood very still, allowing her vampire senses to expand. "Oh, jinkies," said Jennise. Karin stopped pounding on the door. "What is it?" "She's gone. Flown the coop." "But how--?" Karin gulped. "We were here, the entire time." "I don't know," Jennise said glumly, plucking nervously at her tightly French-braided hair, so that a frizzy dark halo soon clouded her coiffure. "But Dorian's gonna turn us into shish-kebab. Or worse." "What could be worse than vampire shish-kebab?" "Janette told me what Dorian did to LaCroix when LaCroix refused to stand at his Interview. It was a week before LaCroix regained sight in both eyes. And almost a month before he could walk again." Karin gulped, and turned even paler than she normally was. "We've gotta find Susan before Dorian find out about this. Where do you think she went?" Goin' Mobile? By Sharon Himmanen "Late for work again," Sharon muttered to herself as she shrugged into her grey wool coat. A blast of absolutely Arctic air through the bathroom window as she'd been brushing her teeth this morning had informed her that it was winter coat time. The weekend at Susan's had been almost too much. Her digestive tract would take weeks to recover, she was certain, although she was thankful she wasn't suffering any ill effects from Saturday's drenching, although watching Laurie get soaked from head to toe would have made it all worth it, she thought to herself as she strolled out of the front of her building. And things seemed to have calmed down, too. There were no cars parked in front of her bulding at the moment. The residents who were home for the day were out driving around until the street cleaners came by, then they'd all come rushing back to get spots in front of the building a little later this afternoon. Sharon was glad she didn't own a car--"opposite side of the street parking" was something she suspected she'd never get the hang of. She smiled at the Stoop Queen who was in her favorite spot smoking a cigarette. The Stoop Queen ignored her--Sharon hadn't given her any fodder for juicy gossip in the last several months and because of that, she was beneath contempt. As she turned and headed for the Greek coffee shop located just around the corner for her morning coffee and donut, an unfamiliar copper colored car screeched to a halt in front of her building. The occupants of that car, however, were all too familiar. Susan and Laurie. Susan and Laurie? Sharon frowned and slowly approached the car which was still rocking uneasily from its abrupt halt. What in the hell were Susan and Laurie doing here? *** "Wait, wait, wait!" Sharon said, holding up her hand for Laurie to stop. "You mean to tell me that Nick and LaCroix are on the same side here? That Dorian was coming to interview Susan? And everyone wants control of Susan's fiction? And by extension, since she's the Empress of FKFIC, the fiction list? Plus, *you* think *Nick* is setting LaCroix up?" "That's about it," Laurie said. "And now you, a Cousin, and you, a Ravenette," Sharon said, indicating each of them in turn, "come to me, a NatPacker, for *safety*?" Laurie smiled nervously while Susan dropped her head into her hands. "What's wrong with this picture?" Sharon said, nodding. She still wasn't sure she believed this story. Susan seemed sincerely distressed at all the attention, but as it was with Cousins, it was always hard to trust the sometimes petulant nature of Ravenettes. Still, she'd learned enough about Laurie from the last couple of wars and over the weekend to know that the Cousin was more than capable of defying LaCroix if she thought the situation warrented it. Abruptly, she stood up and began pacing her living room. "But," she said thoughtfully, "you did the right thing. Of course we'll help. Who know's what kind of propoganda we'll get if the other groups get control of it. People have a right to write whatever kind of fiction they want. They shouldn't be dictated to." As she spoke, her voice became firmer and more confident. "I mean, the only other group you could turn to are the FoD's. But while I'm sure they would love for Susan to write a really good Schanke story, but they aren't losing their appetites waiting for it. Which basically translates into no sense of urgency. But we can probably still count on them. Dorian's going to be a big problem, though." She looked hastily around the apartment, then down at her watch. "We can't stay here." "Why not?" "A, it's a mess. B, people know where I live. My address was on the survey that barely anyone filled out. C, Sandye and LaCroix probably know how you think, Laurie and will figure out where you've gone, helped by the fact that we just spent the weekend together at Susan's." "So, where do we go?" Susan asked. "Well," Sharon said. "That's a good question. Maybe we should just drive, without a plan really, until we figure out what to do. Valerie lives in Ohio. Selma's in California I think, and Jennie's in Illinois. I know we can count on them. There are lots of places. We need time to figure out how to get out of this one." As she spoke she stuffed a few pieces of clothing into her duffle bag, then stopped suddenly, her face brightening. "Hey! Do you think we should wear disguises?" Margaret's Madness By Margaret Newman Petsmart Tucson, Arizona "Rick!" Darlene screeched at her husband. He had shoved a cheap, plastic hand puppet in her face to startle her. He chuckled in glee. Margaret was busy doing the Jaws "dunnaDunnadunna" with a plastic shark puppet on her hand. "What is that? A fly?" "No, it's a cocroach." Rick replied. Margaret's head came up, and her brother shoved the puppet in her face. "Hey! That's cool!" Margaret did not back away from the cockroach hand puppet. An evil smile brightened her face. "How much are they?" "I dunno. No price. They must be free." Her brother smiled back. Margaret put the shark puppet back, and moved her brother's side of the bin. "Oh, cool!" Margaret cried. "Cockroaches *and* frogs!" Later that same day... Margaret was nearly invisible in the pile of cross stitch magazines and booklets. Mary, her sister and Darlene, her sister-in-law, occasionally looked over in her direction, shaking their heads. They could hear her mutter- "Pajamas...cockroaches...frogs..." Another booklet would be tossed away in disgust. "Pajamas...cockroaches...frogs..." Not even her brother's Rottweiler, Whiskey, could distract her with a game of Raspberries. "You know," Darlene said to Mary, "I really like Margaret's tv show, but this obsession of hers. It worries me. Do you think it's safe to let her live alone?" "I still can't believe she likes the bad vampire guy!" Piped in Stacey, Margaret's youngest niece. "Well, it keeps her busy." Mary sighed, shrugging. "Cockroaches... Frogs... Pajamas...." The chant continued. Scottie Gets Messages By Sandra Gray To: scotts@baylor.edu From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: War? Dear Sharon, Do you know about any rumors of another War starting? I've heard that Laurie Salopek tried to do some attacks on Susan Garrett and Sharon Himmanen at an amusement park on the weekend. And the Cousins seem to be trying diligently to recruit new listmembers on the list into Cousindumb. :) Anyway, I'm just writing to see if you know anything. I know that you know Nick much better than I do. Perhaps he's told you something? I thought about asking him myself if anything's going on, but I only just met him in July and I don't have his email address. I *do* have his phone numbers, but I hesitate to contact him that way especially if it's nothing. So I thought I'd write to you. If it *is* war, I'm willing to help--at least as much as I can from my current location. I don't know if I'll be able to travel as I did in the summer (money, Bruce is working, and Amanda's in school). Please let me know if anything's brewing and if I'm needed to help in any way. Thanks. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** To: scotts@baylor.edu From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: Re: War? Dear Sharon, I hope this note finds you well. I wrote to you a couple of days ago to see if you knew anything about another war brewing. Did you get this letter? Anyway, I think something is definitely up. Laurie's tried some attacks and I don't like the way listmembers are becoming *drawn* to LaCroix (it's weird, don't you agree?). Anyway, I decided to try to contact and bond together the Knighties on the list (you probably saw my "call to arms" posts on both lists). I've told people who've responded that I'm just a Knightie coordinator though, not their leader. I'm perfectly willing let you have that leadership position if you want it. Please, have you heard anything from Nick? I've been hoping to hear back from you, especially after my "rally the troops" :) posts, but if you've emailed me, I didn't get your letter. Please let me know something, anything, okay? Thanks, and sorry if I'm making a pest of myself. :) --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Change of Affiliation By Caile Donachaidh Kane Tonight, as a formerly die-hard Ravenette was closing up the library where she works, she had a strange experience. As she went into study room C to check the windows, she felt a strange feeling come over her. She opened the window she had just locked and leaned out. "Uncle?" she whispered. "Where are you?" No answer from the dark void outside. Wouldn't it have been neat, she thought, as she continued on her rounds, to see her dear uncle LaCroix smiling back at her...... Wait a minute, she thought. What about ma chere Janette? Alas, it was too late. Uncle had, by some strange telepathic means, converted her in one fell swoop. And she really didn't mind. Re: Change Of Affiliation By Risha Jorgensen Her mouth fell open in shock. A sudden fear swept over her. The computer was saying that, that Colleen had been changed by LaCroix! A fellow Ravenette had declared herself to be a Cousin! My god, I'M a Ravenette, and not only do we go to the same college, we live in the same dorm. I have a Cousin living only a couple of doors down! Fortunately, I'm going away until Tuesday, so I have a chance to recover and think, and to come up with a plan. I might need some help with this one, though. ------- CHAPTER 7 Thursday, October 20, 1994 A Call To Arms By Sandra Gray `Well, it appears the rumors of another war are true,' I thought. I didn't quite understand *why*, though. The faction groups were getting their mail sent to separate mail drops now, rather than a communal one (as Bruce had suggested in the last War). But the Cousins were engaging in list torture again and trying to recruit new Cousins, too. It had to mean they were planning some deviltry. There had been new list people feeling drawn to Cousindumb. I was sure there was some plot afoot there. I looked at the card Nick had given me in the last War. I didn't know his email address and hesitated calling him since we hardly knew each other. I'd written Sharon Scott and was hoping to hear back from her, but so far had heard nothing. I hoped she was okay. Nick had expressed some reluctance to lead his followers last time. But his followers needed some...leader...to protect his and our interests. What was I thinking?! Still, I could maybe act as a *coordinator*, a clearing house person, (I smiled) a *co- conspirator.* No, it was folly! But if I didn't try, would anyone? There'd been no word from Sharon Scott, the *premeire* Knightie and much closer confidante of Nick. Mmmm, maybe I should write to her again...wait to hear something from her. No, something needed to be done NOW. I sighed, then posted a note to both lists that Knights/Knighties who wanted to be involved in any "war effort" should email me privately. Then I waited. The responses came throughout the day, but still nothing from Sharon Scott. I entered the names and email addresses into my computer. After some consideration, I finally sent out a message: *** To: Fellow Knighties From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu "Sandra Gray" Subject: The War Fellow Knighties: Thank you all for your response. I don't intend to be your *leader*, just a coordinator in a *group* effort. I have not as yet contacted Nick; he was a bit reluctant to have his followers get involved in the last war. But I felt we should bond together to see if we could be of aid to any other groups (except Cousins, of course!) and for our own protection. I would like the following from you: 1) Information about your background and abilities (especially any abilities that could be useful from a "war" standpoint). 2) A listing of your likes, dislikes, fears, and weaknesses (so we know what we each need to guard against if anyone tries to torture or entice one of us). 3) Suggestions for any actions we should take. It's my feeling that we shouldn't attack unless we're provoked or in defense. I also think we should offer our help (if it is needed) to the other factions (except Cousins!). What do the rest of you think? Agree? Disagree? Is anyone free to travel if necessary? Keep a file of the people listed in the header. And send me a message every day that you're all right. If I don't hear from you at least once a day, I'll assume something's wrong. And if you're attacked, be sure to let me know. That's all for now. I'll try to contact Nick when I can, but I'm not sure what (if anything) he'll want us to do. I'll get back to you all later (and expect to hear from me daily). Keep in touch and send me your ideas. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** A bit much maybe? Well, I hadn't called myself *leader;* Sharon Scott was welcome to that job if she wanted it. Again I wondered why she hadn't responded yet. Oh, well. For better or worse, I was getting involved with another war. I just hoped Bruce was going to understand if he found out. ...I was just acting as a contact person, really, so maybe he wouldn't even have to know. A Note to the Troops By Sandra Gray To: Knighties list From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: The War Fellow Knighties: Thank you all for your responses to my points in my last letter to you. This note is to catch you up on the current situation. I have yet to be in contact with Nick myself, but I have heard this morning from Sharon Scott. Sharon is a friend of Nick's who was involved with the previous wars. Due to a busy life right now, it's doubtful she will be able to be involved much in any "hostilities." And there may be *no* hostilities (for us), at any rate. Sharon was able to talk to Nick by phone last night and learned the following: There does appear to be some hostilities in progress. But Nick has formed a truce with LaCroix (I know, I know, say WHAT?) and LaCroix has assured him that there will be no Cousin attacks on any of Nick's followers. Nick also is working to defuse the rest of the situation. He asked Sharon to pass on that we are to attack *no one* while he is working to try to restore some peace. But he also added that if any of us *do* fall under attack to let him know. And Sharon assured me that financial resources will be available to us if needed for "war" purposes. But, at present, he is hoping that none of us will need to have such aid or be involved with the war. Sharon told him that I had gotten you all together. She also sent me his email address. I will be trying to contact him myself today. If I learn anything else of interest to the group, I'll let you all know. So, for now, hang loose. Attack no one in other factions. Keep on guard, though, and in daily contact with me. Despite Nick's wishes that we don't get involved, I've decided we should proceed with our original consensus to post a message to the leaders in the other non-Cousin groups that we are here to aid them if necessary (Nick just said we shouldn't *attack* anybody). It may do no good and no group may take us up on our offers to help, but at least it will show our good will. If any of you *are* attacked, let me know and I will pass on the information to Nick. That's it for now. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Friendly Overtures By Sandra Gray Well, now that the "note to the troops" had gone off, it was time to get on with the next item of business, which was sending the Knightie offer of friendship and support to the other factions. I looked up the addresses of the faction leaders (except for LaCroix's group) and typed them into the computer. Then after some thought, I sent the following message: *** To: Faction Leaders From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: Offer of Support Dear Faction Leaders: Well, I didn't expect to be writing such a letter. I thought any problems with "warring" among the factions were solved when each group got its' own separate mail drop for faction mail. But I guess the Cousins have other ideas. Speaking for the contingent that supports Nick, we would like you to know that we are here to offer our hands in support and friendship if you require our aid. Our homes are available for waystations in your travels (or sanctuary, if necessary) and we are willing to offer any other assistance we can short of making any *attacks.* It is Nick's wish currently that we not engage in hostilities as we have had word from him that he has entered into a truce with LaCroix and is hoping to defuse the situation. However, in the meantime, we are here to help if needed. If any of you require our aid, please contact me at my email address below. --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie and group coordinator --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** I looked over the message. It was a little vague, perhaps, but I was not sure what should be included. But at least they knew we were here and willing to lend aid if necessary. I pressed Ctrl Z and sent the message out. Re: War: A Call to Arms By Andrea Miller *sigh* "Rough day..." I thought. I sat down and logged onto my account, and began to leisurely page through my mail...and got to a message labelled "The War." "Bright Lady, again???" I hadn't been able to participate in the others, but this one I wanted in on... So I sent my reply. *** > Fellow Knighties: - - I would like the following from > you: > 1) Information about your background and abilities > (especially any abilities that could be useful from a > "war" standpoint). I'm computer literate (oooh, rare skill here...;)), I'm a Criminal Justice major (i.e. cop-in-training), former SCA member with some combat training, and I know a little about weaponry... > 2) A listing of your likes, dislikes, fears, and > weaknesses (so we know what we each need to guard against > if anyone tries to torture or entice one of us). Can't deal with spiders...I freak out utterly. I can deal with _anything_ but the spiders. I have a weakness for cats...and men...:) > 3) Suggestions for any actions we should take. Talk to Nick. Get his advice. Then do what we need to do. A war meeting may be necessary. > It's my feeling that we shouldn't attack unless we're > provoked or in defense. I also think we should offer our > help (if it is needed) to the other factions (except > Cousins!). What do the rest of you think? Agree? > Disagree? I don't know about this one... If we see the situation turning bad, we should be prepared to go on the offensive. Other than that, I agree totally. > Is anyone free to travel if necessary? Yep... *** I finished the message with a flourish and prepared to send it...then shuddered with anticipation. "We could be getting in over our heads here...again..." Kittens Go Crash, Panthy Goes Clunk! By John Dencoff John looked over to his terminal, which bleeped at him-- indicating an incoming message. "Dear, dear..." he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Someone has posted their deepest fears on a net that Uncle *obviously* has tapped. These new knighties have no concept of Uncle's knowledge base... Hang on just a second Ron, this won't take but a moment. Then I'll explain everything!" Quickly he wrote down the information...Panthyr...fear of spiders, weakness for men. Probably will protect cats in danger. He tied into the global net, and sent this off to all the Cousins, on their secret, coded accounts. "Perhaps someone will get her, and they'll learn how truly far Uncle's reach can go." he snickered. For good measure, John tapped into the Home Shopping Network and ordered ten thousand "Toonces, the Driving Cat" dolls. He called the Volkswagen dealership in Panthyr's city with a quick order, then has a towing company do small little service near her house. "John, you are *too* evil!" Ron said, blinking, watching the computer screen in front of him. "Now tell me...what's this crap about a CURE??!!" *** When Panthyr woke up the next morning, a Volkswagen Bug was parked on her front lawn...upside down...with ten thousand TOONCES dolls crammed inside it. She didn't dare open the door for fear of a violent explosive reaction. Taped to the windshield was a short note: "Kittens get into accidents! Remember not to post to a monitored net, next time... or *spiders* might be involved!! --The COUSINS" She fainted. ------- CHAPTER 8 Friday, October 21, 1994 Goblin's In By Dionne Nelson The little black cat looked around, her human had left the computer on again, and the screen was even working. Now was her chance. *** TO: SidneyL@catnet.com FROM: Goblin009@aol.com SUBJECT: People Fight? Hi Tiger! How are you? I'm fine. I love fall! Dionne let me stay out all night a couple days ago (ok,so I refused to come in. A girl has the right now and then doesn't she?) I've heard something about another War. Is it true? Do you know anything? If something is happening maybe Janette will let me come up and help. Of course I'll try to bring my step-littermate Trill, he needs introduction into proper society. Write soon, yours always, Slinky *** Goblin stood back to admire her work, typing is hard with paws. Unfortunatly, she wasn't done yet. *** TO: Janette@Raven.com FROM: Goblin009@aol.com SUBJECT: FKWar3? Janette, I've heard the stirrings of another war. I'm afraid I don't have any real information yet. Are Nicholas and Lacroix teamming up? Are they still angry about the last war? You were only trying to help the defector. Next, is Dorian really going to interview Susan Garret? (sp? mailer is SPAM!-SPAM!) I don't think Dorian should reveil himself to a mortal, if he really thinks it must be done couldn't his new assistants Karin & Jenisse (SPAM!) handle most of it. And what if Susan's been set up? Have you contacted her yet? Has Lacroix really been turning dogs? Why? Imagine, not being able to sleep in a sunbeam! Sorry, I'll serve you faithful all my life, but I'm not ready to give up my freedom and isn't freedom what it's all about? When should I arrive? I can leave for the airport tonight. Just one problem, my young step-littermate Trill wants to come too, but I don't trust him. I think he might really be a Cousin. I'll know for sure after he is "appropriately altered." With gratitude and affection, Goblin *** Goblin reread both messages before sending them out. She didn't want to miss any thing important. She also wanted Janette to handle the travel plans this time. First class had to be better than stowing away in the galley. Yuck! airline food. She sent her mail, went on a quick patrol of the apartment (twice, the place was just to small), and tried to answer the phone. She didn't get the phone off the hook until it was too late, but maybe her person, Dionne, would still sign up for the butchers new delivery service. Fillet Mignon! (sp?) Finally she logged back on the see what Sidney & Janette had to say. *** TO: Goblin009@aol.com FROM: Sidney@catnet.com SUBJECT: RE: People Fight? Purrs Slinky! I don't know anything about a war yet, but Natalie has been very tense lately. I'll certainly tell you if anything important happens. Are you coming to Toronto! If you do you *have* to meet The Nine. Nap time and dreams of you await, Tiger. *** TO: Goblin009@aol.com FROM: Janette@Raven.com SUBJECT: Travel Plans I won't comment on the war until I know more about what's going on. I'm expecting the NatPacker to do something next. Also Sandye is rumored to have said she would keep track of the attacks and counter-attacks, and post daily bulletins. I'm waiting before I make myself seen. Please, come visit me again. We have mice again, it's already very cold. And I want to show off those feathers you brought me. Trill is welcome if he can behave himself. And I will understand if he is tricked into mischief. I will have tickets and carriers for two wating at the airport. Always tip well for proper service, Janette *** Panthyr Sharpens Her Claws By Andrea Miller "Serves me right for not changing the headers to the personal address..." I grumbled, picking myself off the lawn... After contacting Sandra about the Toonces incident, I decided to take her advice (and add a twist...) I took the stuffed Toonces to the local Toys for Tots pick- up center. Walking in with an armload of them, I smiled sweetly at the woman tending the pick-up. "I'd like to donate these in the name of a Mr. LaCroix...and he'd like immediate notification of their safe reciept, and perhaps a slip for his taxes..." I handed her a slip of paper with the address of LaCroix's apartment(which Sandra had so sweetly given me) on it. "Certainly..." the woman began to write a reciept, saying, "So that's five stuffed cats?" "No, ma'am, there's several hundred more out front..." Soon, the local media had arrived, and were having a field day with this "human interest" story. I knew how the papers would read in the morning..."Mysterious Mr. LaCroix donates thousands of dollars worth of toys to local charitable organization..." It warmed my heart... But there was more. The Volkswagen I cleaned up nicely, then, with a can of bright red spray-paint, sprayed the word "COUSINS" on each side, the front, the back, and the top in clearly readable letters. I then donated the Volkswagen (in the name of a Mr. LaCroix) to the local rescue squad for practice...on the condition that I be allowed to watch. Some quick Polaroids of the "Cousins" car being torn to bits and I was satisfied...for now. I mailed Sandra with notification of the Polaroids, and asked if help was needed in Toronto. I needed a vacation. Sandra Calls Nick By Sandra Gray I looked at the email from Panthyr again. So Cousin John had attacked her, hmm? Well, I guess that meant the truce was off. I emailed Panthyr with suggestions of what to do in return. Nick had said we weren't to attack anyone, but what I had suggested to Panthyr wasn't exactly an *attack.* Surely, though, once he'd heard what had happened, he'd want us to retaliate more. Nick needed to know about this breach of the peace. I'd had Sharon Scott's assurance that he'd be willing to accept my calls, but I was still a bit nervous about calling him. I had sent him email about the offers of friendship we had made to the other groups and gotten no response (which I guessed meant he didn't mind that action I'd taken). But he needed to know about the attack on Panthyr and some other disturbing information I'd learned. I looked at the clock. It was ten in the morning; he'd be asleep. But what better time to catch him in, eh? I hoped he wouldn't be too upset that I'd disturbed him, but I felt sure he'd want to know what had happened. I dialed his home number and waited. The answering machine message played and at the beep, I said, "Nick? It's Sandra Gray. I'm sorry to disturb you like this, but I need to talk to you." "What is it?" he said, his voice a bit gruff. "Why are you calling me?" My heart pounded at the sound of his voice. "Sharon Scott said you'd accept my calls. And I have some important information for you." "What sort of information?" I related what Panthyr had told me. "I know Sharon said you'd formed a truce with LaCroix, but he's broken it." Nick's only response was a sigh. "So what do we do? Attack the Cousins back?" "No one else in the group's been attacked?" "Not that I know of." "Then maybe it's an aberration. John was turned in the last war. I'd be surprised to learn he's rejoined the Cousins after what LaCroix did. Maybe he's working independently to discredit LaCroix. Let me try to check it out here first." "John could also be under LaCroix's control." "That's possible. I'll check it out. If there are any other attacks, let me know." I bit my lip. "All right." "Well, if that's all--" "Well, there's something else I've heard that I'm not sure whether to believe or not.'" "What's that?" "That Susan Garrett is on the run from--from a character she wrote about in one of her stories. A vampire named Dorian." "What?!" "Then--then he's real?" "Most definitely he's real. But why would he be after Susan Garrett?" "He wants to interview her." "Interview her! But she's mortal! Dorian only interviews vampires." "So she's in real danger?" He didn't seem to hear me. Or else he was just thinking out loud when he said, "LaCroix said there was danger to her from the Enforcers, but he didn't say anything about Dorian being involved." He paused and then added, "Yes, she's in danger if what you say is so." "We're here to help if necessary." "You and whoever you've gathered together need to stay out of this. It's too dangerous." "But--" "Dorian's a very old vampire--older than LaCroix. You don't want to have any dealings with him, believe me." "But if you need help--" "You can help best by passing along any information you learn. But stay away from Dorian. I must insist on this. None of you must get involved with Dorian." "But we have to help Susan." "I'll do what I can to track her down. If she should show up at any of the Knightie locations, call me immediately, do you understand?" "I understand." "Is that the extent of what you have to tell me?"" "For now." "Your information is very helpful. Thank you." "It's what we all want to do--help you, if you need it." He hesitated, then said, "Thank you. I'll let you go now. Keep me informed and of course I'll reimburse you for any phone calls to me. But--" "What?" I asked when he didn't continue. "I guess I was a bit--surprised--when Scottie told me you'd gone to such effort to get involved, get a group together. Especially after the talk we had in July...after your--encounter with LaCroix." "Well, somebody has to." Nick laughed softly. Then he said, "Sorry. You just reminded me of--" He didn't finish the thought. "I have to go--try to find out something about Susan and about what LaCroix's up to. Remember what I said. I don't want any of you to get involved with any vampires." "Kind of late to be saying that." "You know what I mean." "I know. But remember we are here to help if you need us." "Yeah." He paused and then added, "Bye." "Bye, Nick." I hung up the phone. Goblin's Car Accident By Dionne Nelson TO: Janette@Raven.com FROM: Goblin009@aol.com SUBJECT: Appologies... Janette, I'm sorry I didn't make it to Toronto. I was hit by a car on my way to the airport. Fortunately my person took me to the Cat Hospital in the morning. I should be alright once the swelling on my spinal cord goes down, but I'm probably going to lose my tail. And no, I don't want to be brought across, and will still fight Lacroix if he try's. I am glad that he has enough honor and dignity not to harrass a wounded cat (Nicholas isn't even interested in me!). Typing is hard with one paw through a cage... Goblin ------- CHAPTER 9 Saturday, October 22, 1994 A New Knightie Prepares By Perri Smith Perri entered the computer lab at a run, too hyper to sit still. Another incredible win for the Trojans! She still couldn't believe the game had actually happened! She tried to settle down long enough to log into her account. There had been a lot of interesting activity on one of her many lists lately - the word war had been mentioned a lot. Before she got into her mail, she took a look at the records of the last war, downloaded from the archives. People all around the busy lab gave her strange looks as she tried desperately to choke back laughter. That poor rabbit! Finally, she went to her mail, and realized with shock that the war was about to begin. She had barely gotten the affiliations straight and now she had to choose one. Well, it wasn't too hard to choose. Despite her leanings towards the NatPackers, Natalie could take care of herself. Someone obviously needed to protect Nick. She scrolled back through the day's posts and found the address she needed. talk tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Luckily, Knightie coordinator Sandra was logged on. They talked for only a few minutes, enough to assure Perri that she had chosen the right side. Perri thought carefully before typing in the next request. talk johanna@hydra.unm.edu LJC had brought Perri into this whole situation in the first place. Although her loyalties stood with the Ravenettes, she was still the best place to start learning about this war. Besides, Perri had to know where her `Mom' stood. She typed carefully and thoughtfully, praying that her sysadmin wouldn't kick her out before all of this was over. Into The Nether Regions And Beyond By Hyo Moon Hyo stumbled into the computer lab, and sat down at a terminal. She turned it on, and while waiting for it to start up glanced at her watch. 2pm is waay too early to be up on a Sunday. She logged in to her e-mail account, rubbing her eyes in a poor attempt to wake up.(Beep) She was in. She blinked, and frowned at the screen-couldn't be, but there it was-you have 156 messages. 156! Geez, you get up a little late and look what happens. As she scanned the subject headers, something caught her eye: War! It was from Angel. Dearest Ravens and Ravenettes: I've been contacted by Janette regarding the war....Prepare yourselves ...... *?$%@! Wha-at?! TORONTO! I can't go to Toronto! Toronto is way up in the Nether regions and beyond. Didn't Janette realize people in Miami simply *do not* belong in Toronto? Still--when Janette calls, we Raven/ettes must answer. She sat back, and considered her plans. She'll have to dig through her closet and find the paltry number of sweaters(2) she had brought down with her from New Jersey. She didn't know how long she'll be there, so she'll have to talk with all of her professors about missed work. Damn! This had better wrap up by Nov.4. There was no way that she could miss her Marine Bio. field trip considering how her grade depended on it. She logged out muttering to herself "scarves...I need scarves....." ------- CHAPTER 10 Sunday, October 23, 1994 A Party of Another Sort By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat in her room, waiting for her sister to get off the computer. She was dying to read her e-mail. Had Susan written her? She was getting worried. Susan had disappeared a couple of days ago. There was no answer when she called her apartment. Did this have anything to do with that visit from Sharon and Laurie? Were the rumors of another war true? Just then, the phone rang. It was Terri. Terri and Angel had spent the past couple of weeks planning a huge Halloween party for Saturday. Halloween was her favorite holiday. "Terri, I'm wondering if I should dye my hair black to go with my costume." Terri's hair was black with red highlights. She had gotten it dyed in DC last month. Angel was so jealous. "Nah, black clashes with your complexion. Remember last time?" She did. It had been a disaster. Terri was right. New Mexico was so backwards. No good hairdressers. She was lucky her hair hadn't fallen out the last time she went black. "Have you considered going red?" Angel sighed. Everyone thought she should go red. She didn't *want* to go red. Angel's hair was a honey blonde, and she got so sick of it sometimes. She had special ordered some colored dyes, but hadn't found the courage to try them. She heard her sister yell "computer's free". Yes! "Terri, I gotta run. I'll think about red." Angel hurried out to the computer and got into her university account. She was disappointed when she didn't see a message from Susan. But wait, what's this? Janette? Angel pulled up the message and started reading, mumbling under her breath. "Yup, it's a war...action!!...Nick and Lacroix?!?...Do whatever's necessary...organize, yeah, yeah...WHAT! Go to Toronto? But, my party!...oooh, an expense account?...eeek!...oh my." She finished the message with a dazed expression. What could she do? Angel was expected to organize Janette's followers and get to Toronto. She typed out a message to the Ravens and Ravenettes, hoping she hadn't forgetten anyone. *** To: Jeff, Betsy, Lorelei, Moon, Lizbeth, Robert, Risha, Jasmine Subject: War Dearest Ravens and Ravenettes: I've been contacted by Janette regarding the war. I believe you know the plan of action she wants us to follow. Prepare yourselves. I will send each of you a plane ticket to Toronto, leaving as soon as possible. We'll meet at the Raven. Happy hunting! Angel *** That should do it. She sent the message with a satisfied smirk. "Terri's going to kill me if I'm not back in time for the party. How am I going to tell her? Wait...Toronto! Shopping! Hair dressers!" She called up her friend, Leslie, in Toronto. She got the machine. "Hi, it's Angel. I'm going to be in town in a couple of days. Don't know for how long, but I won't have much free time. I need a favor. Could you make me an appointment with your hairdresser? Tell him I'm blonde, and I want purple highlights. Also, could you check out who has good boots? And clothes...velvet, lace, leather, you know. We're going shopping! I'll call when I get to town, okay?" She hoped Leslie didn't mind the imposition. And she hoped she could make her hair appointment. "Well, I'd better start preparing." She opened her drawer, and pulled out a stack of credit cards, and dumped them into her purse. Then she pulled her suitcase out of the closet. Her wardrobe, wasn't made for cold weather. But it was perfect for the Raven. Maybe she could meet some men while she was there. The men in Albuquerque just weren't her type. She was going to be cold, but she would manage. She always did. She picked up the phone to call Terri. Another Raven Flies By Lorelei Feldman I got back in after another day in the library. *Gee, only one person tried to crush me in the moving stacks today. They must be slipping.* I threw my books down in my room and slumped in front of the computer to relax and talk to some friends. I was a bit intruiged by all the "war" talk going on on the list; what exactly was about to happen? Hoping the computer system would be up for a change, I dialed in, and logged on when I got a response. The system came up. "You have new mail." *Well, there's a real shocker. Never would have guessed that one.* Most of it was pretty routine; then I got to the bulletin for all the Ravenettes. * How can I go to Toronto? I have classes! Not that I wouldn't love to...* Then my mind started gearing up. *Now hold on. I need to do an annotated bibliography about vampires anyway; I can tell my prof it's RESEARCH! I wonder if I can get funding for this? And gee, do you think Jeanette knows any Medieval Welsh? And how do I convince THAT professor to let me out of a midterm? And, most importantly, what am I going to wear? I really must do my drycleaning. Still, I'm sure I have something. At least, in Toronto it should be cool enough for all those clothes I can't wear here in California.* *Hmmm.... You know, this could end up being just the "study break" I need... (evil grin)* Quickly, I hopped up and ran to pack, then off to my mailbox to get that ticket that should be waiting, and off to the airport! Time to fly! And Away We Go! By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat back in her seat. She was so glad to be on her way. She didn't particularly enjoy long airplane flights, but just then, it didn't matter. It had taken her a little while to wrap things up back home, and then she left. Any excuse to leave town was a blessing. Everything was packed. Her makeup, her clothes, garlic/ mace spray, even the bootleg Sisters of Mercy video for Leslie. Her parents were surprised that she had left on such short notice. She had ended up telling them that she was going to a goth gathering, and her friends had pitched in and bought her a ticket. She hated lying, but she couldn't tell them the truth. "Mom, my vampire friend, Janette, says that if I don't want to get bitten by Enforcers, vampire dogs or Cousin John, I need to go to Toronto, okay?" Speaking of Cousin John, he had probably received his package by now. She couldn't resist a parting shot at him, since she was leaving town. It wasn't a big deal, just a little gift to let him know she was thinking of him. She hoped she hadn't really made him angry. John was a darling, and she was pretty open-minded, but his fangs in her neck didn't appeal to her just now. She looked out the window. Her seat was right next to the wing. Suddenly, the scene from "Twilight Zone: the Movie", where the creature is on the airplane wing, flashed through her mind. She shuddered and hoped John still had his sense of humor. She thought of her arrival in Toronto. Maybe Janette would let her DJ one night. The gothic guys at the Raven always looked so tantalizing. *** Cousin John had just arrived at the lab. He was still disappointed that his cure for vampirism hadn't worked on him. A package was sitting on his desk. Local address. Maybe Cousin Monica had sent it to cheer him up. She's so thoughtful. As he opened the box, he smelled chocolate. Chocolate!?! He picked one up and realized it was chocolate covered garlic! Revolting! His stomach lurched dangerously. Where did they come from? Definitely not Monica. He dumped the "chocolates" into the trash, and saw a note flutter out of the box. Dearest John: I saw these and thought of you. No need to reciprocate. I'm off to Toronto. See you there! Blood and Kisses, Angel I Heard Twa Corbies By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC turned off her bathwater, her thoughts spinning. She had not meant to get involved, tho the first war had been such a lovely one... She had sopken the night before with Perri, and it had gotten her thinking. Then she had logged in this monrning to mail from Angel, and she touched the plane ticket sitting on her desk, fretting with it as she tried to make up her silly mind. It was so hard to resist, really. As she'd said before, all fence sitting aside, a little blood every now and again was welcome. And if someone were targetting her fellow corbies, ravens, and the like, well, that was reason enough to take up the sword, so to speak, wasn't it? "I don't see why not," LJC muttered. She chewed on a fingertip. "A girl does what she has to, all's fair and all that..." She sighed, picking up the ticket and reading it for the third time. "Hmmm... I wouldn't trust me, if I were me." She laughed softly, and evil light in her eyes. "No, not one bit." From the Fyring Pan (Part 1 of 3) By Risha Jorgensen Risha walked into her dorm from work, exhausted. Despite this, she went directly to the Vax room, where she was stunned to find that no less than three of the eight terminals were free. Where was everyone? There should have been a line of at LEAST three people. Oh well, no use looking a gift horse in the mouth. Her first twenty-nine messages were fairly normal, or rather, as normal as could be expected concidering some of the listservs she subscribed to. Number thirty, however, floored her. "Ohmygod," Risha whispered. "Toronto? Now? What about school?" She shook herself. "Nevermind THAT, you fool. It's a war! I've got to get going." Risha rushed from the room. The others ignored her: they were all MUDers, so this seemed to be perfectly normal behavior to them. Risha ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and burst through the door into her room. She was grateful that Kat wasn't there- her roomate probably would have wanted an explanation. Grabbing clothes randomly from her closet, she tried to think. "I need an excuse. My grandfather died. Yeah, they won't know that it happened in 1976. Good thing my Western Civ paper is already done. Michelle can drop it off for me Thursday." Suddenly, Risha screeched to a halt. An evil thought had occured to her. Cousin Caile, a former, recently defecting Ravenette, lived just down the hall. Caile was scary, even for a cousin, and Risha had been afraid to do anything against her in revenge. But if she was leaving for Toronto that night... that left open some very interesting possibilities. "Oh yes. This will be great." Suddenly, though, Risha began to doubt the wisdom of what she was about to do. Not only did it involve a certain amount of danger to the victim, but it also went FAR beyond the realms of sending chocolate frogs, though prehaps not of taping over all of someone's tapes with Barney. Still, she doubted that anything _to_ normal would upset Caile for even a moment. And the cousin could take care of herself. "Boy, will she be mad. She might even follow me to Toronto..." But this only sobered her for a moment. Risha began to laugh histerically, and then picked up the phone to call a few of her brother's old friends. After all, what's the use of having an expense account if you don't go all out? The plane took off at 11:00 that night. Risha was safely aboard, on her way to where the action was in this war. The man in the next seat kept looking at her like she was a lunatic. This was due to how she would break out in fanatical laughter every few minutes. At 6 am the next morning, two men dressed as garbage men pulled up at the NY Port Authority. They wheeled in a large dumpster, the top of which they unlocked and left open. They ignored the muffled sounds emerging from the dumpster as the walked casually away. If anyone had looked in it at that moment (which nobody did due to its pungent odor), they would have noticed a very angry, very naked woman lying bound and gagged in the garbage. On the Road Again By Susan Garrett (Somewhere in Maryland) It was a Quality Inn. It was night. Laurie's car was at the service station next door. And they were hip-deep in it. That's really all Susan knew. She opened her eyes and stared at the stained tiles of the hotel room ceiling, wondering what on earth had gotten into her. After all, how bad could it be? All she'd gotten was that message, telling her that Dorian, the Archivist of the vampires, was coming to interview her. And then Karin's friend had shown up and tailored her for that dress. It a nice dress. And when you only have three to begin with, you don't turn down a new dress out of hand. Then Laurie had thrown rocks at her bedroom, gotten her up just before dawn, and off they'd gone to Sharon's in the Bronx, without a plan. They'd headed south, gotten as far as Maryland, and then Laurie's car had developed an sudden case of not-workingness. Which meant they were stuck in this motel room until the shop opened and the car could be fixed. And then go . . . where? There was no where she go--Dorian would find her. She knew a little of the vampire Code, knew that they took this interview stuff very seriously. If she was caught with her friends, they might get into some serious trouble. Not to mention what would happen to her . . . . Susan had a feeling there was a way out of this--despite the fact that Janette had decided to pretend that she didn't exist. She was good at loopholes. It was only a matter of getting information and starting to go through it, which was why she needed Ron's help. If you want to look at the Code, you get an Enforcer. And Ron was very Enforcer. But she was without her laptop and that was her only way to contact Ron, to see if he'd found anything. Her laptop was in Toms River, in her apartment, being watched by vampires--well, they were her friends by they were still vampires. The fact that Karin and Jennise were involved, not to mention the dress nonsense, meant they had something up their sleeves. Maybe it would be better to get back to Toms River, and her laptop. Besides which, her dog had to be walked . . . . That decided her. Susan rolled out of bed and crept into the bathroom. After she'd watched and dressed, she headed out of the darkened room, toward the door. That's when she noticed the chair by the window was empty. Sharon was sound asleep in the other bed, but Laurie was gone. Laurie was gone. Checking the lock on the door, Susan noticed that the deadbolt--only lockable from inside--was off. Which meant Laurie had left. For the soda machine? For a candy bar? It gave her pause. LaCroix and Nick were also supposedly on their way to talk with her about her stories. Nick--heck, he wasn't much of a problem. But LaCroix . . . you could never be certain what that ex-albino psychopath was up to. And Laurie was a Cousin. She might be meeting LaCroix. Or she might be bringing LaCroix back with her. Guessing that Sharon would be safe enough if she wasn't there, she ripped a piece of paper from the hotel pad, scribbled `Susan isn't here, go away!' in block letters, and used a piece of bubblegum to attach it to the outside of the door as she left. She'd owe Sharon big time for this one. Susan decided that it was too bad, really, this having to leave in the middle of the night, as she headed for the payphone to call a car service to the Amtrak station. There were some really neat amusement parks in Virginia, which was just around the corner. And she was desperately in need of another flume ride. High And Dry By Sharon Himmanen Sharon had walked past the phone booth twelve times by her count. She was standing in an Amtrak station in Maryland, in the very early hours of the morning waiting to catch the train back to New York City. And she was fuming. A family of four, stranded between trains, had been dozing when she'd come in. Now the older boy was sitting up, his eyes sparkling over some of the colorful language Sharon was using in describing Laurie, Susan, Dorian, Nick, LaCroix and Janette, no doubt cataloging it for future reference. The father had also woken up, and he kept clearing his throat and casting reproachful looks her way. Sharon glared back at him and launched into another string of adjectives, getting quite creative this time. Finally, he'd woken up his wife and other son and they'd gone to wait outside on the platform, the older boy tailing along reluctantly. She'd thought it was over and done with after the Great Adventure fiasco. She thought they were all safe. She'd said so, put her credibility on the line by sending out a general stand down email. Then Laurie and Susan had suddenly appeared at her doorstep with some convoluted tail involving Nick and LaCroix, and Dorian, the Archivist. And stupidly she'd agreed to help. So they'd gotten into Laurie's car and drove, drove until the car broke down. Then they'd found a motel. And at one am this morning she'd awakened to find the room empty and a note pinned to the door that read `Susan isn't here, go away!' Both she and Laurie had flown the coop. And stuck her with the hotel bill in the process. When she'd gone to check out they'd informed her that the credit card Laurie had used the night before, the one she'd bragged about getting from LaCroix, was no good. So Sharon had used the last of her cash, then walked nearly three miles to a cash machine so that she could get home. Well she had had it. Susan could fight he own battles. And as for Laurie . . . But that phone kept catching her eye. It kept urging her to call Natalie, to tell her about Dorian. But Sharon scowled at it, and turned away, telling herself that she was going to make her way back to New York, curl up in front of the television and let them duke this out with their friends, pets, allies, whatever. She'd watch from the sidelines this time, thank you very much. Thirteenth pass. Nope, not going to do it, she thought to herself, turning sharply and walking out onto the platform. The family was there, the kids just dozing off again, and she saw the father groan to himself when he caught sight of her. Making a face at him, she went back into the station and passed the phone for the fourteenth time. But another thought *was* nagging at her. If Dorian was calling for Susan's interview, were any of them really safe? And just who had ratted on Susan in the first place? It certainly wasn't Natalie. Janette had cut Susan off without a second thought once she'd found out about Dorian and the interview. Nick would probably never do something like that, although he might go along with it once it became fact. She wouldn't put it past LaCroix, but what purpose could it possibly serve? And who was Dorian going to want to interview once he was finished with Susan? As she passed the phone for the sixteenth time, Sharon came to a decision and pulled out her calling card. It was 5am--Nat was probably not going to be happy about being woken up, but there seemed to be a lot of that going on right now. Natalie had to know about Dorian, not to mention the fact that Nick and LaCroix might be involved in some kind of conspiracy against list members. The phone rang four times before Natalie picked up. "Doctor Lambert," she said in a clear voice. "Nat? It's me, Sharon." "Sharon? What time is it?" She heard Natalie fumbling around, looking for a clock. Then she heard a little gasp of exasperation before Nat said, "Oh, this better be good. My alarm isn't set to go off for another two hours." There was a slight pause, then Nat added in a tentative voice, "Is everything OK?" "Well," Sharon said, her tone slightly bitter. "I've been better." "Where are you? It sounds like you're standing in a tunnel." "I'm in Maryland." There was another pause while Natalie digested this information. "Okay. Why?" Sharon proceeded to pour out the story of how Laurie and Susan had abandoned her, managing to include a good portion of her descriptive adjectives that the young boy had overheard earlier. Nat was quiet through most of it, although she did make a few sympathetic noises. Finally, when Sharon paused to take a breath Nat broke in. "But . . . why did you go with Susan and Laurie in the first place? I thought you said everything was fine after the Great Adventure weekend." Sharon took a deep breath. "That's sort of why I called you," she said. "There's something you should know." "What?" "Laurie said something about Nick working with LaCroix." "Well, I find that hard to believe." "That's not all," Sharon continued in a small voice. "I can hardly wait," Nat said, her voice tinged with sarcasm. Sharon parted her lips, hesitated for a second, then mouthed the word "Dorian." Embarrassed, she cleared her throat, having meant to speak the word aloud but suddenly giving in to slight panic. "What?" Natalie said, her voice suddenly serious. "Did you just say something?" Sharon cleared her throat and tried to speak again, this time successfully. "I said . . . Dorian." She didn't need to be in the room with Natalie to know that the silence on the other end was due to complete shock. She didn't want to think about the expressions that were running across Nat's face right now. After several seconds of complete, tense silence, Nat spoke. "What . . . what about Dorian?" Her voice sounded tight, controlled, neutral. "He wants to interview Susan." "But Susan's mortal!" "I know that!" Sharon said, a nervous giggle rising to her lips. She managed to fight it down just in time. "Apparently there's some special section of the code that allows it." "But . . . why? And who told him about it?" "Laurie seemed to think that it was LaCroix. And that Nick is going along with it." She heard Nat mumble something to herself, swearing she caught the word "brick" in there somewhere. Then Nat asked "What about Janette?" "What about Janette. She's cut Susan off." "Just like that?" "Just like that." She heard Natalie sigh. "All right. Go on home. I'm going to talk to Janette. If I can I'll try to get to the bottom of this. If Dorian's suddenly decided to go after mortals on the list I'll need your help." "Oh, no way!" Sharon exploded. "After what I've been through tonight! I don't think so!" "Hey! Hey!" Natalie admonished, gently. "This isn't like you!" "Yeah, well right now my better nature is on vacation!" "Oh yeah!" Nat challenged. `Then why'd you even bother to call me?" "Because," Sharon said, then hesitated. "Because . . . because I just thought you should know, that's all. Now I'm going home to work on my dissertation." "And just leave Susan to fend for herself?" "Gee, you mean like she did to me?" "Well, OK, that was kind of shitty, but have you thought of this? Maybe she was trying to protect you by leaving you behind." "Yeah, well . . ." she started to say belligerently, then she paused because she realized Natalie had a point. "I-- !" She opened and closed her mouth twice, then sighed and said "Oh hell!" "I'll be in touch," Nat said, breaking the connection just as Sharon heard the train to New York roll noisily into the station. A Guarded Truce? By Sharon Himmanen Natalie dropped the phone back into its cradle and slipped out of bed. It was still quite dark outside but she was now wide awake, making a mental note to give Sharon a call some night at 4am when her shift was over. Paybacks *were* hell, she thought to herself with a small smile. Natalie didn't want to think about Dorian right now, but she knew she had no choice. She *had* to get to the bottom of this, as she'd promised Sharon. And if Nick *was* involved, then she'd need a little more information before telling him. Besides, she wouldn't put it past him to fly off in a huff and just throttle Dorian himself when he found out, and she knew she didn't want that. Which meant that Janette was her only option, and Natalie didn't think that was much of an option at all. To say that her few dealings with Janette had been tense would be an understatement. During their last encounter she'd felt like a toy caught in the claws of a leisurely and somewhat sadistic cat. And Natalie definitely had *not* liked the feeling. As if reading her mind, Sydney came over and arched his back along her shins. She bent down and scooped him up, heading for the kitchen to start her morning coffee. And then there was all that business during the last war, when some of her more enthusiastic friends had staged an all out attack on the Raven and Janette herself. While she'd publicly asked them to stop and frowned upon it, she had secretly delighted in nearly every score they'd managed against Janette. But then she remembered Janette's words to her at the end of the last war,just after they'd finished negotiating for Sydney's return, just before Nick and LaCroix had appeared out of nowhere to teach Janette a lesson. Janette had said that the two of them should make more of an effort to get along, but had quickly recanted, saying it was too late. But Natalie had replied fiercely that it was never too late. Which meant that now was the time to take her own advice. She glanced over at the phone, wondering if Janette was still up, and figuring that she probably was. Dropping Sydney to the floor, she picked up the phone and dialed the number for the Raven. The phone was answered almost immediately by a male with a heavy accent which Natalie guessed was European. "May I speak with Janette please," she said, trying to keep her voice firm. She wondered briefly if the person answering the phone was mortal or vampire. "Who's calling, please," the voice asked. "Natalie Lambert." "One moment please." The line went momentarily dead as she was put on hold, then there was a click followed by Janette's familiar, amused tones. "Doctor Lambert," Janette said. "This *is* a surprise." Natalie could just picture her with a small smile on her face, blowing cigarette smoke into the air. "Janette," Natalie replied. She was surprised by the edge in her voice, but decided that it was necessary for now. "We need to talk." Janette's soft laugh irritated her, but Natalie bit back any comment. "So, you've finally decided that it's time for a little girl talk. How nice. But I'm afraid I don't really have time right now. There is another matter that demands my attention." Natalie took a deep breath. "That *other* matter wouldn't involve . . . Dorian, would it?" She cursed silently to herself at the hesitation in her voice. And by the silence on the other end of the line she was sure it hadn't been lost on Janette either. "Well now . . . what about Dorian? You seem to know him *so* much better than I." Janette's voice hardened as she said the words. "Did Nicholah tell you this?" After a moments pause, during which Natalie weighed whether or not she should say yes or no she said "As a matter of fact, I heard it from a friend of Susan Garrett's. You remember Susan, don't you?" She didn't bother masking the sarcasm or slight accusation in her voice. The hard edge in Janette's voice hinted at her annoyance. "The affairs of my followers are none of your concern." Natalie had had enough. "Fine, fine," she said flatly. "I just thought--" She stopped. "Never mind." She was about to hang up when Janette spoke again, her voice deliberate. "But then again, we may be able to . . . work something out, exchange information. Something to our mutual benefit perhaps? Nicholah can be so . . . short- sighted at times, don't you agree?" Natalie didn't hang up, as she was tempted to, but she didn't say anything either. After a time, Janette continued. "Tomorrow night. At my club. Bring your followers, or friends, or . . . whatever, if you like." "I don't think--" Natalie started to protest. "Doctor Lambert, I give you my word. We will meet and talk. You will enjoy my hospitality--and you're *friends* will behave themselves, hmmm?. That is all. If you would prefer not . . ." "No. The Raven is fine," Natalie agreed, reluctantly. "Good. Oh, and Doctor Lambert, one more thing." "Yes." "Do make sure that they, and you, are appropriately attired. If you'd like--" Natalie didn't hear the rest of it because she dropped the receiver back into its cradle, and muttered a few choice adjectives. She didn't much trust Janette, but at the moment it seemed the only good way to get the answers she needed. And the fact that Janette had agreed to a meeting suggested that there *was* something going on. They'd meet and talk. And if anything suspicious happened, they could always back out. Pouring herself a cup of coffee she began making phone calls. She still wasn't sure it was fair of her to disrupt the lives of her friends on such short notice, but she knew she didn't want to face down Janette or a horde of Ravenettes by herself. Sharon would be home at about 10am. It's be a rush but she'd make it to Toronto by tonight, Natalie was sure. Now it was time to see about the rest of her friends. Laurie's Dream By John Dencoff Laurie *knew* this was a dream...the hard part was that she also knew she couldn't wake up from it until it played through...and this was the, thirteenth time? She couldn't remember... She knew that she couldn't stay; to stay here was putting Susan and Sharon at risk. In the back of her mind, she could feel the ancient mind probing...searching for her. Now, it was getting too difficult to block. If only she knew who it was...could it be Uncle? She packed her things quickly, in silence. Sharon was asleep, and Susan was down at the cafe. Without word, or even a note, she decided it was simply best to leave, before this vampire found them. It could, after all, be Dorian. And from Dorian, there was no escape. In minutes, she was back on the highway. Where could she go? Did she trust Uncle, the Cousins? What if this Hunter *was* Uncle? she thought. the voice demanded. It was male, cold, and full of hate. It wasn't LaCroix, but the voice was that of a vampire, rythmically echoing in time with her heart. Unknowingly, her foot pressed harder on the gas. "Who...are you?" Laurie demanded in return. It was not a request. This vampire was old...powerful. It was not accustomed to answering questions. As her heart raced, she wondered what she could possibly do. On the highway, there weren't many options except to go faster... *** Laurie awoke in a cold sweat. It was how the dream had ended every time. What had he done? Who was he? The doctors had told her that she had been in a bad car accident, that she was lucky to be alive. Why couldn't she remember? Uncle had come to see her, genuinely concerned. Even he didn't know, though he suspected Dorian. It was unfortunate, but she had apparently never seen the man...the *Vampire*, she corrected herself. Suddenly, a nurse poked her head in through the door. "You have a visitor, are you in the mood for one?" "Yeah, I suppose." Her back was killing her, but it was nice to see someone, anyone. She pushed herself up a little bit in the bed, trying to make herself a little more comfortable. Cousin John walked in. "Hi. How are you feeling? Better than the car, I hope!" he joked. "Not much," she smirked back at him. "LaCroix doesn't know who did this to you, but we have a pretty good idea. It'll be tricky, but we'll get him." "John, my advice is to stay clear of whoever this one is. He's so old that he doesn't think, doesn't feel, like humans do anymore." "Well, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, with these new abilities and all. It'll help me heal a little more quickly if I do step on his toes." he smiled. "Do you have any idea where Susan might've gone to? Someone needs to protect her. Uncle may have to." "I wasn't sure how LaCroix would react. That's why we left. I wanted this to turn out so differently...who knew that Dorian would call her to be interviewed?" she shook her head. "We're holding our own, as Cousins. To tell the truth, it's kind of exciting." his eyes flashed. "Well,..." "You'll be up and in good shape in no time, plotting with the rest of us. You should know that Sandye was struck down also, in a different way. She's contracted a highly unusual virus of unknown origin. She's having to sit this one out as well. Dennis is closeby, so he's trying to get her well." "Just when we need everyone the most, everything happens. It can't possibly be random." "Well, I should probably go. Get well, because we'll need you. I have a feeling that the ending of this War will be quite different than what we've seen in the past." "Okay, Cousin. Thanks for stopping by, John. I appreciate it a lot. Maybe when this war settles down, we can all drop by Uncle's for a reunion of the Cousins...have a drink or something." she made an effort to smile through the back pain, but it came out more as a wince. "A drink?" John said evilly. His face broke into a wide grin. "That sounds nice!" Birds of aFeather By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy logged off, cursing herself for waiting all day to check messages. She was still upset over the stalemate of the last war, and was waiting ever since for a chance to help the Ravenettes get even. She had even taken a few lessons in speedboat driving, just in case. Now the time had come! No time to pack, just a few essentials. She didn't know where she might end up, so lugging aroung a big bag seemed pointless. Besides, Janette would buy her some new things. Some beautiful new things. But that's not why I'm going, she reminded herself. Pretty clothes are just a bonus. The real fun will be tormenting those who dared to cross Janette, in the last war, or ever. Halfway to the airport, she remembered her roommate, Windy. Communication breakdown kept her out of the last war, but she was ready now to jump in. The only trouble was, she refused to tell Betsy what faction she was joining. Serves her right then, Betsy thought. How do I know if I can trust her? Besides, she'll be able to figure out where I went. Betsy used the flight from Baltimore to Toronto to rest. There would be no telling when she'd be able to get some sleep again. Graveyard Shift By Tara "LJC" O'Shea There was no place on earth half as depressing as an airport late at night, LJC decided, though train stations come a close second. She remembered with fondness the station on Carbondale, IL at 2am when she and Lissa had boarded the train to New Orleans. That was the weekend she had introduced Amy to Highlander, and been rewarded by Amy turning her to FK. Walking through O'Hare at midnight to change planes so she could arrive bright eyed and the rest in Toronto by 3am, she found she was thinking on this more and more. A janitor pushed a grey and sad looking mop across the terminal, his blue jumsuit all too bright under the flouescent lights. It had been quite some time since she'd flown anywhere. Boston, actually, though she had spent enough time in CAE to be familiar with airports in general. Glancing at her watch and noting she still had quarter of an hour before her connection boarded, she picked up a payphone and dialled in her credit card number, worrying at a loose bit of yarn at her sweater as she waited for the automated voice to quiet and she carefully recited the number. "Hello?" "I need to speak to her." No premable, no explanations, the bartender would know who she was. There was a moment of static as the phone picked up the music from the club, and then silence as the call was trasferred, apparently Herself had decided to take it in her office. "I'm in Chicago, I should be there soon." "I was wondering when you would get around to it." Janette's voice was light, and Tara could imagine the halfsmile that would be playing across her face. All too clearly. "You know me, a bad penny." "I remember last time." It was a warning, not a statement. "Some of us do learn from our mistakes, and it's not Him I'm afraid of. We have a bargain of sorts, though it hardly matters to Him what happens to me. As long as I amuse him, though, he won't do anything to me himself, he'll leave it up to the Family and all." "Ah my dear, I can tell you've been waiting a long time for this. Did you get bored out in the desert, living with your tiresome sister?" "It wasn't that bad, she's not that tiresome, and yes. You know I'm going out of my mind here." Tara frowned, Janette could read her too well, and it made her nervous as it always had. She had gotten quiet and cautious on-line, though face to face she was the same as ever she was, craking wise behind her masks and fences. Masks were something Janette knew from the inside out, that was one of the reasons she was a bonnie wee corbie. "Honest per usual, I see." "To a fault." Tara glanced at the monitor. "My flight's going to board in a moment." "I'll be counting the minutes, my dear." The scarcasm was on the teasing side, but it still made her flesh creap. After all, she was still just as mortal as her fellows, and therefore Food in Janettes eyes, first and formost, Follower second. That was simply the way things were. "Evil bitch," Tara smiled, even though there was no one there to see it. "Oh, one last thing... Where exactly do you know Miklos from, anyway?" "We have a friend in common, you might say. The lady who Made him." Tara fidgited, glancing at her watch and answering quickly, her mind only half on her words. "Ah. I see. It makes sense." Now it was Janette's turn to nod, though there was no one in the sancticy of her office to note it. "Go, you'll have a muder of crows on your doorstep soon enough, lady. I know they're coming in twos and alone. I'll melt in, just like always." Tara laughed, and hung up. This was going to be just too interesting, she could tell. The first war had whetted her appetite, tis true, and she had been away on family business the second time, and this war was just what she needed to liven up things a bit. She was looking forward to a little... recreation. She wondered who might follow? It was a delicious thought, as she shouldered her carry on and headed off towards the gate. The almost empty corridoors lit with ghastly flourescent light could not even dampen her mood. Toronto at Last! By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel finally arrived at the Raven. It had been a long flight, and Toronto felt like a giant meat locker. She didn't have the wardrobe for this. But she was used to being underdressed; this would just be a more extreme case. She was impressed with the hotel, where several adjoining suites were awaiting the incoming Ravenettes. The heaters were first rate. It had felt wonderful to shower and warm her chilled bones for a few moments. She called Leslie and planned out their shopping expedition (and her hair appointment) for the following day. As soon as she hung up, she felt the need to find out what had taken place in the many hours she had spent airborn. So she resurrected her hair, reapplied her makeup, and hurried off to the Raven. She walked in and was instantly in heaven. Everything was perfect, from the decor to the delectable bouncer. As she looked over the throngs of bodies, both living and undead, she caught Janette's eye. The "we need to talk" look she got made it clear that it was time for business. Pleasure could wait. As Angel approached, Janette turned and led the way to the back rooms. Angel was relieved to discover that all was well. She was the first to arrive, and the others had done an excellent job of asserting the Ravenette position. She had several tasks to accomplish in the day ahead, but would still find time for her hair appointment and shopping. The others were expected to arrive in the coming day. She was very excited about meeting her fellow Ravens and Ravenettes. After all the correspondence over the months, it would be wonderful putting faces and voices to the personalities she knew and loved. But she also had other priorities. Arrangements to make, negotiations, supplies to locate. It would be a busy week, but Angel looked forward to every second of it. CHAPTER 11 Monday, October 24, 1994 Put Your Sweet Lips aLittle Closer to the Phone By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy walked into the back room at the Raven, to see a considerable group. She didn't recognize any of them except Janette, who approached her. "Ah, Betsy. No time for greetings, did you make the call?" "Um, not yet, I just got here, I..." "Well, what are you waiting for? I have you people around to make my job easier! Go, go! When you're done, you and the others can go shopping, it will be day soon." She dropped her cigarrette and stared at Betsy until Betsy picked it up for her. When Betsy started walking to her office, Janette stopped her. "No, go to the pay phone outside." Five minutes later, Sandra Gray's house *Ring, ring!* "What time is it? Four-thirty! Who on earth would... Hello?" The operator's nasal tone grated on the other end, "I have a collect call for Sandra Gray from a," the phone clicked over to a familiar voice, "Nick Knight. Will you accept the charges?" "Nick!" she looked over at her sleeping husband, and hushed her voice, "Of course I will!" Sandra didn't even stop to wonder why Nick would call collect. "Nick, what is it?" "I need your help" "What? What can I do?" There was a muffled sound, and then, "...here, in Toronto" By then Sandra was fully awake. "You want me to come there? Why?" Then there was a whirr and a click, and some muffled giggling. "I'm sorry Sandra, dear," a new, female voice said, "I don't have any more on the tape, I had to make it in quite a hurry. The Ravenettes just wanted to send you a wake up call. If you want to get reimbursed for this collect call, you'll have to come to Toronto to get it. You might want to come anyway, Nick's going to need all the protection he can get." "Why you..." Sandra didn't bother keeping her voice down, she was furious. "Oh, and another thing, Sandra," Betsy continued, "I dialed zero to make this call." Sandra dropped the phone and gasped. The horror! She came to her senses and picked up the phone just in time to hear the *click* on the other end. Getting There is Only Half the Fun By Lorelei Feldman Lorelei finally arrived, and got everything up to the hotel rooms where the Ravens and Ravenettes were staying. Very impressive! *Definitely chose the right affiliation! Class and style; Jeanette does things right!* She plopped down on the bed, exhausted, and wondered if there were time to take a brief rest before anything happened. She couldn't wait to meet the others, and find out how everything was going. She thought she'd made a good start, herself. Being rather new to the list and the war, she'd been uncertain of anyone's weaknesses. Still, there had to be something she could do, something that would be annoying to anyone. And it had to be done quickly, since she'd only had a few hours between getting the ticket and the time her plane left. Then, she'd thought of it. Grinning wickedly, she'd gotten the Knightie Perri's address and picked up the Yellow Pages. Quickly, she'd called up every annoying mail-marketing service: lingerie, obscene T-shirts, gadgets-you've-probably-seen-on-TV-and-didn't-want-them - then, cutesy little country-style home decorations, all of them. She'd added Perri to their lists; immediate delivery of current issues, and lifetime subscriptions therafter. Just for extra measure, she'd called AmEx and Citibank as well, and requested applications on Perri's behalf. Laughing maniacally, she'd headed for the airport. While at the airport, a thought had occurred to her, and she'd called up MCI to say she knew someone who would just love to join.... Night flights were always the best, when the cities spread out underneath you like huge, lit-up circuitry boards, and you could see all the stars you never could from the ground. Unfortunately, Lorelei never got to apreciate much of it this time. That last one kept her giggling all the way to Toronto. *** Sitting on the hotel bed, Lorelei suddenly realised that her little joke might go completely unrecognized as such; surely everyone got these annoying little things at some time or another, so what was there to connect this with the war? After all, it was hardly fun if they didn't know it was happening. Thinking quickly, she called back the mailing lists she'd notified and asked if she could make those "gift subscriptions". It might take a little longer, but then again, getting those little "notification cards" in the mail before the actual magazines might just prolong the torture, and it would make it much more difficult for the poor Knightie to cancel them. Although, the service desks did sound a little confused when she told them the gift- giver was "Ravenette". Cousin Caile Relates Her (Mis)Adventures By Caile Donachaidh Kane Well, I must say I was mightily annoyed last night when, as I sat in my dorm room fuming over my breakup with my boyfriend and working on the presentation for French class that had to be delivered at nine am the next morning, two burly men in ski masks opened my door, knocked me over the head, and carried me off. I struggled valiantly, but it's terribly hard to sink your teeth in someone's neck while your hands are being bound behind your back. I was also gagged - not, as the one "gentleman" explained to me, to keep me from yelling, but to get me to stop biting. I believe he was somewhat peeved over the near loss of his thumb. I was toted down the back stairs then, and stuffed into the back of a rather cramped mini-wagon. In the next few hours, during a long car ride in which I was allowed only *one* cigarette (the fiends!) I learned that the ends of their vile mission was to strip me naked, make unflattering jokes about my (lack of) tan lines, and at the last, disguised as garbage men, dump me unceremoniously into a New York Port Authority dumpster. I reiterate - MIGHTILY annoyed. After about an hour, I managed to chew through the gag (always knew that $6000 in orthodontistry would come in handy) and started screaming my head off. A passer-by heard my cries, and alerted the police. So, at about seven o'clock, I was fished out of the dumpster by two of New York's finest. My first words to them were "GIVE ME A CIGARETTE AND SOME CLOTHES, NOW! PLEASE!" So then, clad in only a wool rescue blanket and a NYPD jacket, I was transported uptown to HQ. All the way, I puffed madly on the Camel Non-filters I bummed from the one cop and muttered to myself about this bloody war, and boy was Uncle gonna be *very* p***ed, and damned Ravenettes have all the nerve, don't they... until I succeeded in confusing and frightening those two poor cops beyond belief. The fact that I smelled like something fished out of a NYC dumpster (which in fact I had, but so what? `Twasn't *my* fault) was not helping matters. After we arrived, I was able to take a shower and get into some "Property of NYPD" sweats, and then I was escorted in to meet the captain. As I walked in the door, I noted a box bearing the pink & orange logo of "Dunkin Donuts" on the desk and thought . He stood up, brushing crumbs from his exceptionally loud tie and extended his hand in warm welcome. Actually, he shook my arm off while saying "Just how da frig didja end up in dat dumpsta?!" "Sir," I said semi-calmly, while eyeing the carton of Marlboro 100's on his shelf, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you." "Siddown, and tell me anyway." He gestured to the chair next to me. "You want somethin'? A drink? A smoke?" I sat down in the chair, and asked "Could I have a pack of cigarettes, please?" He gave me one, and a book of matches. I packed them frantically and lit one. "Now give," said the captain. "Well you see, there's kind of a war going on, amongst some friends on the Internet..." "Internet? Izzat dat computer s**t?" "Yes, sir. Well anyway, it was supposed to be just a friendly little thing, nothing more than playing practical jokes, you see, but someone, and I think I know who, has gotten a little more serious than playing." I carefully kept my mouth shut about the supernatural aspects of the war. "I see. And the boys who brought ya in - said you made mention of an Uncle of yours? And what's your name? Are ya from New Yawk? I figger you ain't got any ID, since ya were found without clothes, but... is there someone ya can call?" My thoughts raced. My family is staying out of this. What should I tell this meathead? "My name is Caile Donachaidh Kane. I live in upstate New York, and I am a student at Alfred University in Alfred, New York. I would like to call my Uncle, who lives in Toronto. Reversed charges, of course." He nodded stupidly. "O' course, ya can use this phone right here. I'll leave ya to your call, and then we can see `bout gettin' ya back home." He then left, and I pounced on the phone. I had committed the number to memory as soon as I had recieved it only days before. Cousin John had sent it on to me in an e-mail detailing the war plans. The phone rang close to ten times before I heard Uncle's voice say "This had best be important..." "Uncle??" I said. "I need help." "Caile?" His tone of voice switched from impatience to almost a purr. "What's the matter?" "The Ravenettes had me kidnapped, and thrown naked into a New York City dumpster." When dealing with Uncle, it was best to avoid lengthy explanations. I heard the smashing of glass in the background and a guttural curse that sounded something like "Damned Janette." Then Uncle came back on the line and said to me: "Everything will be fine, chere. I will wire you some money, so you can buy some clothes, and a ticket back to school. Where are you now?" "The police station. NYPD headquarters." "Ah, good. You know Nicolas and I are cooperating in this war; I will have him call the captain and make arrangements for your return." He paused. "On second thought, however,it may be best to stay away from school for a time, until all of this is over. Would you like to stay with me, for a while? I could buy your A's for the semester if you like. Besides, I could use your computer skills." My heart skipped a beat. An invitation from Uncle? Extended to a novice like myself? Oh, it was too good to be true! "Yes, Uncle, I would love to. But... I haven't any clothes! Or anything! Everything is at school!" He chuckled. "Just have Saks bill `Monsieur Lacroix'. They know where to send it. I'll fax you a letter stating that you are my niece, and that they should accomodate your every desire. Also, I will wire you the money for your ticket. And now, chere, I must call Nicolas, and then, I really must get back to sleep. Au revoir, and I will see you tonight." He broke the connection. Within the next few hours, I recieved a wire for $1500 dollars which caused the police captian's eyes to bulge out in the most vulgar manner. I also recieved a quasi- comforting telephone call from Nick, who intimidated the police captain in such a way that it made me wonder if vampires could hypnotise over the telephone. The fax from Uncle also arrived, which I used at Saks with smashing results. And then, in a wholly satisfying action, I used the leftover plane ticket money to buy several cartons of cigarettes. *** I sit writing this on Uncle's pc. He's out hunting, er... *having* dinner right now. I expect him back any moment. Ahhh. The Ravenettes have congregated only blocks away. The war has begun. Revenge is a b****, and so are angry Cousins. Sleep tight, kids. On to Toronto By Jill Bradley Jill paused as she riffled through her mail. YES! The ticket had arrived from Janette! She admired the envelope with its Raven logo in place of a return address, then began to plan frantically. The flight was in less than two hours-- Janette could have warned her, she thought grimly. Oh well, it was time to see how organized she really was. *** As the lights of Phoenix dropped away below her, Jill leaned back and drew a deep breath. She had been quite the gypsy in her youth, but it was certainly different now, with a child and two giant dogs to care for. Lucky for her, one of her potential converts was willing to stay with the troop. It was a good chance to watch all the Forever Knight videos in Jill's library. Jill smiled happily. Not only was she actually on her way to the city of the Raven, but it was almost certain she would have Alicia converted by her return. She closed her eyes, trying to rest, secure in the knowledge that she would have little rest once she arrived in Toronto. Janette would not admit it, but she would be pleased by the Ravenettes rallying to her side. Cat-Astrophe Overtakes Lisa By Lisa McDavid "No." Lisa McDavid spoke with complete calm. Too much calm, in fact. An uninformed listener might have been pardoned for supposing that the alleged Ceclor in her purse was mislabelled Thorazine. Karin, however, was not uninformed. "Oh, for heaven's sake, Lisa, I'm not asking you for the moon, just tell Larry we need him. I'm not even asking you to know why." "You've lost Susan, of course. Yes, I heard about that. Alma thought it was hilarious. They've got a pool going at the Raven, you know, on just how long it will take the Enforcers to drain you and Jennise once Dorian finds out. I believe they're timing the bets in nanoseconds." Lisa's chair creaked as she leaned back. "I'm not in it, you understand. Miklos wouldn't take a bet of less than zero." "How nice to hear you have confidence in us! Look, Lisa, what do you think's going to happen once Dorian starts personally tracing Susan?" "I hope we'll find out Susan didn't learn to shoot from the Toms River cops. Or do you happen to have a spare copier?" "Dorian'll start hauling in Susan's beta readers, that's what," snapped Karin. "And you're the only one who's been neutral so far. Even Alexandra could figure out that means you're the one she's most likely to run to. So you'd better get hold of Larry and get him started tracing her credit cards." Lisa laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "Larry who?" "Never mind the insanity plea," Karin said. "Or have you forgotten saying blood's thicker than water?" "That was our mother. What I said was that Larry's head is thicker than Mount Rushmore. I don't know where little brother is. Somewhere sunny, I hope, preferrably getting a good tan. I told him I was through bailing him out after last time, and I meant it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I just found someone on Autocat who can read 16th century Bulgarian ...." "Lisa, Lisa, I hoped we wouldn't have to do this. I really did." Jennise's voice replaced Karin's. "Have you counted your cats lately?" "You, you -- even LaCroix wouldn't be that fiendish!" Lisa's veneer of sophistication vanished. Jennise had clearly graduated with honors from the LaCroix school of phone manners. "Why, thank you! We do try." "All right. I'll do anything. Including finding Larry." Karin resumed the phone. "I was sure you'd see reason!" "What I'm seeing is red. Ok, I'll be up there as soon as I can get a flight to Newark. If you're going to hold my cats hostage, you hold me with them." Hostage Situation By Karin Welss At Susan Garrett's apartment in Tom's River, NJ "A---choooo!" Karin winced for the twelfth or thirteenth time as Lisa Merlin McDavid sneezed pitifully into a lace-embroidered hankie. New Jersey, it seemed had brought little relief from the allergies that had plagued Larry Merlin's sister in South Carolina. Somewhere in the depths of the dim, book-lined apartment, one of Lisa's cat yowled and hissed furiously, followed almost immediately by the shrill yapping of Diego. Jennise looked up from her comic book at the sound. "Score another one for the cat. When will that dog ever learn?" Karin shrugged. Lisa sneezed again. Jennise looked longingly at the telephone, waiting for Larry to call with the information about Susan's credit cards. It was their only hope of tracing down the errant writer before Dorian discovered that she had vanished, presumably to evade her Interview. Why had Susan run? Now all of their carefully- laid plans might come to naught... Two hours until sunset. "Mrou!" Another annoyed squall from the cat. Diego whimpered, and let loose with another volley of yaps. "A--choo!!" Lisa was still at it. Two hours until sunset. And Dorian's feckless assistants were neatly trapped in the apartment with Lisa, her cats, and Susan Garrett's dog until then. Who, then, were the hostages? Beating The Bear By Perri Smith Perri struggled through the gate of her apartment house, carring more books than anyone should be allowed to read. She dropped them in a heap at her door, before skirting the swimming pool to check her mail. She opened the little door - and had to move fast to catch the mountain of postcards that poured out. "What the ...?" she asked quietly. "I never get this much snail mail?" She leaned against the wall and leafed through them. "You have been given a gift of a subscription to Frederick's of Hollywood? Cool! You have been given a gift of...Sledge-o- matic? Country Living? Wha-at?" She checked the name - from Ravenette. It took about three seconds to figure things out. "Damn, I *knew* that Ravenette at Berkeley was going to be hacked off! What'd she do, subscribe me to one catalog for every point we beat them by? Well, there's enough of them!" Perri forgot to keep her voice down and got a hard stare from her landlady. She smiled back innocently, before carting the postcards back to her room. A half-an-hour and three phone calls from MCI later, Perri decided she had had enough! She put on her jacket and headed back to campus and the computer lab. talk tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu All right, Sandra, now I'm mad. One of those Ravenette's has apparently subscribed me to every catalog known to man - including those late-night gadget catalogues and a particularly loathsome T-shirt catalog. And American Express is after me - again. "Well, you were the one who wanted in," Sandra typed back. You haven't heard the worst of it. She called MCI and told them I wanted to join "Friends and Family." They won't leave me alone! "What can I do to help?" Nothing, as far as that Berkeley Ravenette, what's-her-name, Lorelei is concerned. I already took care of her. "What'd you do?" I telnetted into her account (and let me tell you, it's a good thing I know computer science students here, breaking in without her password was a pain) and I susbscribed her to every mailing list I could find - I think there were about two hundred. If she's in Toronto with the rest of the Ravenettes, her sysadmin will shut down her account about the time it hits 2Meg over her disk space - should be by tomorrow afternoon. Sooner if the Duchovniks and those crazies on Lois and Clark are up to their usual tricks. "I think that qualifies as cruel and unusual punishment." She started it. This is getting out of control fast. We'd better let Nick know what's going on - and I guess we'd better tell LaCroix. We've got to put a leash on Janette's flunkies before they do something worse than renewing my subscription to Victoria's Secret. "I've already been in contact with the other Knighties. Don't worry, we've got plans of our own beginning." Good. Perri logged off, and sat back in her chair, stretching. It was going to take a month to pay off those computer science guys in beer and pizza, but it was worth it! Makin' a Meal By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC dropped her bag in the entryway of the suite, picking up a small folded note from atop the bar. LJC, We're meeting at the Raven. Dress accordingly. - Angel. She sighed, looking down at her airplane clothes. Black ribbed streach pants, low boots, longsleeved, scooped neck shirt, and green crepe tailored jacket would have to do, it wasn't as if she had brought a cocktail dress, but it was plain and dark and classy enough, she decided, wondering if she should remove he silver pentangle that she had worn so long she had almost forgotten it was there. It wasn't as if it was actually a cricifix or anything, though the meaning was much the same. And one mustn't be rude to one's hosts, LJC decided as she dropped the sparkling chain and talisman into a little cardboard box which then was dropped into her purse. She slipped her trenchcoat back on, and the fedora, and caught a glimpse of herself reflected in the windows that faced the night. The tiny smiley-face button seemed absurd, but the whimsyical little button, and the dark connatations it held thanks to a certain book, amused her enough to leave it pinned to her lapel. Locking the door behind her, she headed down the hall, he mind already on the war ahead of her, and if anyone were following her, she certainly didn't notice. The Raven - No decent hour They were already assembled at a table, chatting amongst themselves. Tara hadn't met the newbies, and introduced herself with a smile and firm handshakes. Alma pressed a drink into her hand with a brittle smile. "Hallo, darling. So nice to see you again." LJC raised the sea breeze in a toast, but the vampire simply smiled, showing her teeth, and faded back into the throng. Guessing, correctly, that the young woman with the purple streak was Angel, LJC sat down, making herself comfortable as Angel filled her in. "You looking forward to it?" Angel smiled, her eyes alight with mischief. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't." LJC clinked glasses with her, and took a long sip. A Newbie Flies to Toronto By Karen Knight Karen knew she was late, but the fog in New Orleans had delayed the flight. She checked her bag and felt the reassuring courseness of the package within - a little something she picked up from a friend in the Quarter. You never know when something like *that* may come in handy, especially during a rescue. Karen follwed Angel's directions and walked into the Raven. She loved the decor. Angel introduced her to everyone, including Jeannette. Karen was impressed. There was time to play before her assignment started so she took a drink from Alma and sauntered over to talk with the men in black. Flocking to the Fray By Susan Garrett Janette stifled a yawn and glanced at the front doors to The Raven--the sun had barely set and it would be another hour or so before the club `officially' opened. Of course, there were a few scattered `regulars,' who were allowed in before anyone else, and those few souls to which she'd given sanctuary. Alma passed her, carrying a tray of drinks. Janette nodded her head toward the back room. "Are they all here?" "Most of `em," announced Alma, heading in that direction. She hesitated, gum snapping. "I'm keeping them happy, like you said. Are we going to wait for the others?" "No. I probably should take care of this now, before trade starts." Stifling another yawn, Janette followed Alma out of the main area of the bar and into the back room. It was difficult trafficking with mortals--the hours they kept were positively indecent. She didn't know how Nicola managed to put up with it. They were gathered around the table, conversation drawing to a respectful hush and then silence as she swept into the room, the left side of her dress, which was longer than the right, trailing just on the floor behind her. Janette passed by Angel and touched the streaks of violet in her hair. "Clever," she noted. "I quite like that." Moon, beside her, was wearing long sleeves and a bulky sweater. "This Antarctica," she whispered, leaning in beside the mortal and startling her. "Talk to Alma-- she'll find you something more appropriate." A glance and raised eyebrow at Alma and the blond vampiress quietly finished setting out the drinks, then headed out of the room. She smiled warmly at Betsy and made a mental note to avoid speedboats during this entanglement. Jill, the girl beside Betsy, returned her gaze nervously. On the other side of the table sat Risha, mischief gleaming in her eyes. Lorelei was beside her--Janette made a mental note to have Francis give her some of the research items Angel had mentioned that she might need. Robert, the only man in the group, sat on Lorelei's other side. He looked exhausted from his long flight, but his excitement was unmistakeable. Janette stood at the head of the table and picked up the wine glass Alma had left for her. "Alma says the others should arrive soon, we'll update them when they do. But for now, Angel--how are the negotiations proceeding?" Angel cleared her throat. "Um . . . fine. I've contacted--" "Careful!" warned Janette, holding up her hand. "Remember the last time--I don't believe anyone's infiltrated my club yet, there's no reason why they should this time, but it's best not to take any chances." "Well, then, I've made contact." Angel shrugged. "They're open to suggestions." "As usual." Janette sighed. "Well, my pets, we should have an interesting `war' ahead of us. I can't think where Nicola's mind has gone and as for LaCroix--well, he'll do what he wants, when he wants, and it's better for us to just stay out of his way, yes? But as for their followers . . . you've all been given your assignments. Nothing excessive. Remember," she met Risha's eyes in a steady glare and cleared her throat, "we have an agenda that must be followed if everything's to go as planned, a week from tonight. Be clever, be coy, be cruel . . . only if you , but do as I ask and all will go well for us. I trust of you," her gaze pierced them one by one, "to do your best. You've got a stake in this as well, this time." They were all so very solemn . . . and some--the brighter ones--were a little fearful. Janette lifted her glass to her lips as she watched them, then gestured with it toward the bar outside. "Stay, if you'd like, for a while. But I'll expect you to attend to your `projects' as soon as possible. Everything and everyone be in place within a week or- -" "Or?" asked Jill, when Janette paused and drank from her glass again. "Or we won't ." She shook her head. "That silly Cousin thought she'd bested me, pretending to join my followers, but staying loyal to LaCroix all the while. She thinks she started this war. But we know better, yes? The right word in the right ear is all it takes." Janette gestured toward the door. "So, go. If you need anything, see Alma. Angel will continue to pass along my instructions. Angel? A moment, please?" Janette moved off to the corner and waited for Angel to join her. She gestured over her shoulder. "Keep an eye on them--I can't afford to lose any this time. And with some of them so new . . . they'll try to prove themselves. They may get into trouble." "Speaking of trouble--" Angel glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice. "What about Susan? Did Nick and LaCroix go after her? Are we going to rescue her? Because if we are, we should--" Janette cleared her throat. "Susan . . . will be taken care of. Right now, you really should be more concerned about what I've asked you to do, shouldn't you?" "But . . . she's a Ravenette. She's one of ." "And she'll do what she's told, when she's told to do it. Just as you will." She patted Angel's shoulder. "Now, after you've sent off that note to my dear Goblin, you may run along and enjoy yourself. The hair is becoming- - you must tell me where you had it done. The boots on the other hand. . . well, it will be dark soon." Janette gestured toward the bar. "Go out there and mingle. Contact the others when they arrive and tell them what needs to be done." Angel hesitated, then nodded. "All right. And when I hear from--?" "You'll let me know." She continued smiling until Angel had left the room, then sat down on a chair and lifted her glass again. Mortals could be tiring. But useful. And as she finished off her first glass of the evening, Janette found herself smiling again, because batch of mortals might prove very useful indeed. At the Raven By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat on her barstool, and looked around her. She had finally finished her errands for the evening, and had a chance to enjoy herself. Tara had arrived earlier, and they had discussed possible plans of action. She thought about the day ahead, trying to remember all of the things to be accomplished. She turned to Jill, who was sitting next to her. "I shouldn't be thinking about the war now. I should be relaxing. It's driving me crazy!" Risha, who was sitting on the other side of her commented, "How can you think about that at a time like this? Just look at all these men." Angel smiled as she surveyed the dance floor. The people back home were so boring compared to this crowd. There were enough guys in here to last her a year! And that's if she hurried! The sheer temptation of it was too much. She decided to run to the restrooms for a makeup check before dancing and mingling. The lighting in the Raven was perfect. Her hair seemed to glow purple under them. And there were just the right number of blacklights. Too many, and her off-white facial makeup tended to look streaky. Her lipstick and eyeliner were a bit smudged. It was a good thing she had come in here. The dark plum red lipstick set off her light features perfectly. And her outfit looked so *black*. Back home, she could never seem to get rid of all the animal fuzzies on her clothes. Her bustier top needed some adjusting. She loved how the velvet skirt looked with her stockings and new boots. She couldn't believe Janette didn't like her boots. They were mid-calf length with silver skull buckles and three inch stiletto heels. She adored them! As she left the restrooms, she felt the driving need to dance. But Janette caught her eye and waved her over. "Angel, this is my darling Jeff." she said, stroking his neck lightly. Jeff grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips lightly. "It's a pleasure..." Janette cleared her throat, and continued in an annoyed tone. "Could you update him on what he's missed and give him an assignment?" Angel sighed, "Of course, that's what I'm here for." *Well, it could be worse, at least he's charming company.* She grabbed Jeff's hand, and led him to a semi-quiet table. "Okay, here's what's happened since I wrote you last..." Twenty minutes later, Francis came to their table, interrupting an enthusiastic conversation on whether Sisters of Mercy could stay together long enough to get out a new album. Angel noticed the vampire's approach. "I've come for the monsieur's auto keys." Jeff started to protest. "It's okay, Jeff, they're going to put it into Janette's garage, where it'll be safe. You can hitch a ride back to the hotel with us girls. Um, Francis, could you have Jeff's things put into the back rooms?" With a nod, Francis grabbed the car keys and walked away. Angel turned back to Jeff, smiling. "Well then, where were we? Oh yes, music." As she babbled, Jeff reflected that she was paler than some of the vampires in the club. "Hey, you're coming by tomorrow night, right?" He looked into her eyes, which were gleaming mischievously. Suddenly, he felt cautious, what was she up to? "Uh, yeah, that was my plan. Why?" He groaned inwardly when he saw her triumphant smile. "Janette says that Tuesday nights are kind of slow. She's letting me DJ for a couple of hours." Her excitement was contagous, and she had Jeff's full attention now. "So you're asking me if I'll help?" She laughed lightly at his question. "Something like that. I don't want to get bored in the DJ booth all by myself. You can help me pick a good gothic mix." Jeff smiled, "It would be a pleasure." Angel's leg brushed his thigh as she stood up. "I'll count on you then. I've got to go dance now. I love this song." She spun around and flew towards the dance floor to join Betsy and Karen. Jeff shook his head as he stood up and walked back to the bar. Now What? By Karen Knight Karen returned to her room and spied her luggage on the bed - she hadn't bothered to unpack before going to The Raven. She reluctantly decided to perform the tedious task. She had learned from Angel that she was to be some sort of bodyguard for Ravenette Risha. Karen needed more info. She began to unpack: Little (teeny tiny) black dress, spike heels, fishnets, "sensible shoe" (never knew when a disguise might come in handy), powerbook, portable printer, sword,sword?! Oops, wrong war. Oh well, it might come in handy. She put away the rest of her things then set up her computer. No new e-mail, surely the others hadn't gone to sleep yet! *** Later... Now she knew! Karen had been having trouble with her e- mail all weekend, pieces missing or not getting to her address, "undeliverable mail" messages. Someone, probably a Cousin, had gotten to the sysop and turned him. The others needed to know immediately! Karen took off down the hall. A Call to Arms By Dotti Rhodes I sat at my usual "away from the kids" spot - in front of the computer. With four kids it isn't easy to find a few minutes to get away to myself, but when I do it usually is the computer I run to. Soooo, another war was starting, eh? The last one I just lurked through, terribly interested but not really sure what to do. I hadn't even been sure what side I would have been on - although madly in love in Nick I had definite Ravenette leanings. Janette remindeds me of myself when I was young and single. But, as I had read through the war postings I found my leanings were definitely more towards Nick. He seemed to be the one in the most need of help anyway, I smiled to myself as I read the screens. "Okay, so I wanna be in this time and I'm definitely a Knightie but what do I do first?" I asked the screen and then my answer came in the next post. Sandra Gray was going to be coordinating the Knightie effort. I remembered contacting her once before regarding a story Sandra had written that I had really enjoyed, and we had agreed many times over the internet about Nick's character when Sandra could come up with the words I couldn't. "Good - now I know what to do first. Contact Sandy. Hmmm - I wonder if I'll get to go to Toronto. I'd love to - I've never been but it could be fun!" I thought of "Uncle" and various cousins - Cousin John for example - I'm not so sure I want to really run into them. "For Nick, anything!!" I decided. "I'm definitely in!!!" Marshalling the Cousins By John Dencoff The Slaughterhouse, Toronto John drew in his breath suddenly, taking hint of the permeating odor of inhuman meat in the air. As he alighted on the roof of the Slaughterhouse, he remembered his last trip to Toronto. When last he'd been in this city, he'd been human. He scanned the area with his expanded senses, searching for traces of the others. He would know them by their descriptions they gave in hastily-sent emails. Cousin Monica he knew well...quite recently she had been converted from the Ravenettes. He didn't think he'd ask her how Janette reacted. Not a good idea. The important thing was that she was now a Cousin. Cousins Caile and Mike were recent additions to the family. Lisa and Margaret were old friends. And Lostsoul...dear Lostsoul! It would be wonderful seeing them all again...he only hoped that they still trusted him, considering his recent crossover. He couldn't sense Laurie, Sandye, or Dennis in the building, though, and that troubled him somewhat. Karin, of course, was absent, but she had accepted a position with Dorian. She and Jenisse could be counted on, even though they were Vampyres now...but the addition of Dorian complicated things a bit. What *was* Dorian's interest in Susan Garrett? The thought of Dorian made him shiver. As a young Vampyre, John had to be very careful. Especially around the Elder Ones. Ron had taught him that...and Lavinia. Yes, he would need to contact Romulus after this meeting with Uncle. He needed to know the deeper issues. And he could trust Romulus. He just hoped that Romulus still trusted *him*. He was working on a possible cure for Nick, after all. He hoped that the Enforcer wouldn't misunderstand. After all...John was starting to appreciate the finer aspects of the Dark Gift. He was starting to *like* being a Vampyre. As he descended the stairs into the Slaughterhouse, LaCroix touched his shoulder from behind. He almost jumped out of his shirt. "Welcome, John." LaCroix smiled evilly. "Geez! Are you trying to give me a coronary?" LaCroix looked at him, shaking his head. "You must give up this temptation of thinking like a human, John. You *are* one of us, now. Come, join the others!" He pulled John inside. "Not all of the Cousins could make it out this time, due to work constraints and all, or their email-servers being down...such as Cousins Christine and Robert Reynolds, my Dark Prince; whom I must contact later...but the majority have come." John introduced himself formally to Caile and Mike, who both looked quite eager for mischief...although there was something of an anger behind Caile's bright eyes. Yes...as he felt her heartbeat, the rhythm of her breathing...she had been attacked. She wanted revenge. Mike's eyes were bright; there had always been a tiny corner of disbelief in vampyres, but it was now replaced with proof. He wanted to convert others to Uncle's cause! LaCroix looked pleased, and as he turned his eyes on his cousins, the silence was palpable. "My children...new and old...I have some news to report. Unfortuantely, your Cousin Laurie was involved in a minor accident earlier this morning. It's to my regret that she won't be able to participate this time." His smile had faded to a cold look of regret. "My gift has not been for healing, so she may not be entering this War." Cousin John and Cousin Monica looked suspiciously at Uncle, then questioningly at each other. With his enhanced sense, John sent to her: She looked a bit more relieved by that, but not much. "Something insidious appears to be going on, and I am not behind it." Uncle continued. "Laurie suddenly with an injury, Sandye with a terrible illness that defies attempts at a cure. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that someone is targeting us. We are the object of scrutiny, and I don't like it. Especially after several of us have been lured away by other factions." "You mean Sharon?" Monica offered. "Sharon?" Mike queried. "Sharon, who was a potential convert at the end of the last War, but was drawn into Natalie's group." LaCroix replied. "She would have made a wonderful addition to our family." "So what would you like us to do?" John asked. "...And let's not forget what happened to me. It was humiliating, a *dumpster* no less! I'm furious!!" Cousin Caile added. LaCroix paused a moment. "I think we should continue with what we have always done best. We should continue our efforts toward bringing others into the fold. Target them all. Knighties, Ravenettes, FoD's... perhaps especially the FoD's. They have a strong desire for feeding, why not tempt them with the rather enjoyable delicasies the Cousins can enjoy? But...never forget that the attempt must be subtle, with the aim of conversion to our side. Be clever, remember the lessons I've taught you." "Tell them about Dorian...and Susan." John interrupted. LaCroix flashed him a dark look, then continued. "Yes. All should know. Dorian has called Susan Garrett to be interviewed. But she has escaped. Cousin Karin and Jenisse are working as Dorian's assistants in this case, but they were not able to prevent her escape." "For reasons that I will not go into, I do not feel that Dorian should question her first. *I* would like that priviledge. She must know something that even the Enforcers do not...and I must have that information *first*." he smiled, his eyes bright with devious plans. "So...continue with your efforts to convert the others. Cousin Caile, seek revenge. Nothing *too* drastic, however. Simply drive the point home that we are not to be toyed with. Or manipulated." John spoke then, "And...what of the animals that you were purported to have brought across? What is to be done with them? Are Cousins Sandye and Dennis still in the fray?" LaCroix chuckled under his breath. "John, I must remember to teach you about interrupting your Elders. But later." he glared. "For now, consider the animals as my spies. We may indeed need to change them back later, but leave them for now. Something unusual is occurring there, and I need to keep a very close watch on what transpires. I believe that Sandye and Dennis may be in some danger...something dangerous even to the community at large. As yet, I do not know what it is, but it doesn't bear the marks of either Nicolas or Janette. I suspect that Janette may know, but that too is uncertain at this point." "Satisfied, John?" he smiled again. "It's not a matter of satisfaction, it's a matter of preservation." John replied matter-of-factly. "Bringing the animals across was very dangerous, Uncle. It's against the Code. It will attract the attention of the Enforcers, and I've grown rather fond of my neck." "Well, of course it will attract their attention! How better to serve two of my purposes? Believe me all, when I tell you that there is something larger at work here, otherwise the Enforcers would not have initiated an interview with Susan Garrett. It is larger, more dangerous than Wars in the past. This time we're all playing for keeps. No rabbits, no spell- checker computer-viruses, this time. Keep your objectives firmly in mind." "As I said before: Caile, seek revenge, but try also to convert her or at least get information out of her. Janette knows more than she is letting on. Mike, attempt to convert one or more of the knighties if possible. I am forming an uneasy alliance with Nicolas, so make your offers tempting. Lisa, see if you can join Dorian's team. Your skills as a librarian would be invaluable, and you can obtain information for me at the same time. Margaret, try to gather as much information as possible about Natalie's faction, the Die-Hards, and the FoD's. If you can, attempt conversions there as well. Monica, see what you can do regarding Tara. Or perhaps, see what possible information you can squeeze out of your sister. But gently. John, apparently Janette is working though a new person in your area: Angel. If *she* could be turned...or even persuaded to join us..." "She sent me a box of chocolates...with centers of garlic buds. I shudder to think what would've happened had I taken a bite." he cringed. "Perhaps you should then work more closely with Monica? Either way, the idea is to convert, but if you can't convert them, try to stall. I shall do my best to keep everyone informed of what I discover. Until then, remember what I've taught you!" In a flash, LaCroix flew straight upward, impossibly fast to see. In seconds, he was gone from the Slaughterhouse, and the Cousins went in separate ways to consider what he'd told them. John shot a toothy grin toward Monica. "We live in the same town... can I give you a lift? Heh!" "I like air conditioning, but not so much that it would permanently rearrange my hair. Thanks, but I'd rather `Fly the Friendly Skies' than the `Fiendly' skies." she replied dryly. John looked hurt, then brightened. "I can at least give you a lift to the airport!" he said cheerfully, and he took hold of her and flew up into the night sky. He regretted it later, as the deep fingernail marks on his neck took a long time to heal. ------- CHAPTER 12 Tuesday, October 25, 1994 Cousin Caile Reveals Her Nature By Caile Donachaidh Kane It's pretty late, and Uncle is out doing whatever it is he does. I have finally, after hours on the computer and the telephone, completed my revenge. I figured out who the person was behind my humiliation of this morning fairly easily: Risha, a Ravenette, who lives upstairs from me. I think she was still steamed over my recent conversion. At any rate, it was plain that she was the perpetrator. Little does she know that in junior high, the computer coordinator taught one of his favourite students the finer points of hacking. I logged into the AUVAX shortly after posting the tale of my capture and eventual safe return to the loving arms of my dear Uncle Lacroix. He told me I should get my revenge swiftly and brutally, and a similar message arrived from Cousin John not too long ago. But I have everything under control. First, I sent a message to an associate who in turn arranged for a kilo of base cocaine to be planted in her room. Unfortunately for her, there's a room check coming up this week, and she'll be here. In Toronto. Then, I logged out of the AUVAX, and proceeded on to her credit card company, her phone card company, and her bank account where I wreaked some general havoc. Then, I called my brother - one of several - and he and some friends went and carted away every last belonging in her dorm room. And gave it to the Buffalo GoodWill. That was the nice stuff. I then switched her return ticket from "Toronto to Buffalo" to "Toronto to Baghdad" and billed it to Janette. Then, I ordered over ten thousand dollars worth of mail order merchandise (such things as plaster busts of Elvis and Buffalo Bills beanbag chairs, laserdisc copies of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and various other gifts), had it sent out to sundry Ravenettes around the country, and billed the lot to...yes. Janette. In my final jab, (and I must admit that most of this has been pretty petty) I arranged for two friends, Ray and Vinnie, to break both her legs and shave her head. Services paid for by.... You guessed it! Janette. I think we're even now. Or maybe not. There is still so much fun to be had. I have not yet begun to fight. Do Unto Others Before They Do It To You By Caile Donachaidh Kane As entered in the diary of Cousin Caile 25 October 1994, wee hours Toronto, Ontario, Canada It's late, and I can't sleep. Uncle is out, as usual. Word of my vengeance has reached the cousinly community, and Cousin John just sent me a glowing message of approval. Uncle liked it as well. But here I am, in this great big house, all alone, and things are getting spooky... I'm starting to think about furthering my vengeance. I keep getting the feeling that I should strike again, before I am struck back at. I know they will, and I know this war is far from over. Uncle says our mission this time `round is to convert and gain knowledge - *not* to harm with intent. Still, my brief time with Uncle has molded me well, and I observed him from afar for over a year before coming to his side. I believe in *his* version of the Golden Rule, which is: "Do unto others before they do it to you." Ahh, Uncle. They call me vicious, Uncle, they call me scary. What am I but what they wish they could be? Free. We Cousins have no rules, we have no ruler - except our dear Lacroix, our Uncle, and once you learn to harmonise with his ways, you are not really ruled............... (the pen falls to the floor) Uncle's firm grip on my shoulder caused me to drop my pen. "Good morning, Caile," came his voice in my ear. "Good morning, Uncle," I replied, turning my head to see him. He was in head to toe black, as usual. I smiled. He smiled back. "Do you have any idea how long I've been reading over your shoulder?" I grinned at him. "Long enough, I imagine." He came around the chair and stood in front of me. "Yes, long enough. Long enough to realise how loyal, and how valuable you are. You would make a splendid vampire." "But you won't, will you?" I said with understanding. "No. I won't. You know I'm breaking the rules by having you here, by teaching you what I have in the past several hours. The Enforcers would... Ah, I shudder to think. You would be promptly destroyed. Now, the issue at hand is finding Susan Garrett. We must get to her before Dorian. And we must get inside the Enforcers to find out out just what is going on. It's someone high up, it's not Dorian's decision. He may have thought it was, but it is far out of his hands now. I have to contact John again, and Margaret. And YOU have something to ask me, don't you?" I sat and stared at Lacroix for a long moment. "Yes, Uncle," I finally replied. "And this is?" Of course he already knew. "Uncle - give me one last lesson in revenge." He sat down in the chair across from me, and began to chuckle. "Of course." From the Frying Pan (Part 2 of 3) By Risha Jorgensen Angel was surprised to see that Risha was still up. The suites currently occupied by the Ravenettes in Toronto came equiped with comfortable beds, and they had all been up all night after that meeting with Janette. Then Angel noticed that Risha seemed to be upset. "What's wrong?!" Risha noticed her for the first time. "@#^%&(!!" she exclaimed. "I knew that what I did to Cousin Caile was excessive, but I wasn't prepared for revenge like this!" "Calm down, and tell me what happened." "Calm down! #%%^*(%%..." [The following language was unprintable.] Finally, she calmed down enough to tell Angel what had happened. "I just got a call from my roommate. Last night, someone broke into my dorm room and took all of my stuff! Luckily, a friend of mine spotted a shirt that she recognized as mine at the Buffalo Salvation Army, and managed to buy almost everything back.Then when I tried to send her some money to pay her back, I was informed that my bank account was overdrawn, and the same with my credit card! Fortunately, I have two bank accounts, so I was able to pay her back, but now I'm broke. I had that same friend grab those few items left behind in my room, and put in all in storage under her name, so it'll be safe for now on. But when she was getting my stuff, she found a bunch of cocaine in my room. She's getting rid of it for me before this week's room check. My roommate's complaining because Barney videos and Elvis busts have been being delivered to my room since 6:00 am today. "I swear, I'm about to scream! $#$*^$%#(*^...." Angel tried to soothe her. "Okay, that WAS pretty bad. You tried to warn us about how Cousin Caile was, and we didn't listen. BUT..." she made sure that Risha was listening. "Now we know to be on our guard. From now on don't leave the room for ANYTHING without at least two of us with you. Good thing we have pretty hefty defences on these rooms. Anybody getting past the human guards will have the laser defenses to deal with. Good thing Janette thought to get the name of that company the Die-Hards used in the last war. Is there anything else out there that you need protected?" "Um... my family?" "They're an unlikely target, but we'll make some arrangements anyway." "I think that's everything." "Good," said Angel. "Oh, and don't worry about the money. I think that our expense accounts will probably cover repairing your bank account and credit, but lets wait until AFTER the war, to make sure that this doesn't happen again. Oh, and we'll fix up something to protect your family's finances, too." Risha was beaming. "Thank you, Angel. I don't know what I would have done without your help. And also, any ideas of what to do to Caile in return?" "I would have thought that you had learned your lesson by now." "Not a chance." Shopping By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel screeched the rental car to a halt. Risha and Karen, her terrified passengers, had had enough of her driving for one day. "Why are we stopping?" queried Risha, "We don't have room for any more stuff." She was right. The trunk and two-thirds of the back seat were packed with supplies from their errand for Janette. "We have to stop here. Leslie told me about this shop. need to indulge myself after picking up all of these supplies. I mean, it's fun, but I don't have stockings for tonight. Come on, you guys'll love this place." They walked into a small shop. Risha wasn't sure she liked the looks of the employees. They seemed a bit creepy. Karen's eyes became large twin orbs as she noticed what type of merchandise this store specialized in. * Hmmm. If Angel buys extravagant things with Janette's money, maybe I should go shopping too.* Twenty minutes later Angel set her merchandise on the counter, ready to pay. "Look at these spider web stockings, Risha. Aren't they splendid?" Risha gave her a sideways glance. The cashier rang up the purchase. Three hundred eighty-seven dollars in corset, bustiers and stockings. Angel couldn't have been happier as she handed over Janette's credit card. "I'm sorry, but this card isn't working. Are you over the limit?" The three girls gave each other confused stares when the credit card was rejected. How could it be? Angel sighed, and pulled one of her own credit cards out of her purse. She didn't really care. She couldn't buy this stuff in Albuquerque. The shops were way too conservative. *** Fifteen minutes later, the girls were at the Raven. They sat in the middle of the dancefloor, their purchases spread out all about them. They were giggling as they came up with different uses for some of the more unusual items. They had just finished a spray confetti fight, and were hardly in a serious mood. Just then another trio walked through the door. Moon, Jill, and Rob had returned from their shopping trip as well. "How'd it go?", asked Karen, who looked cute after the spray confetti fight. "Um, we had some problems. We got about half of the stuff, and then the clerk said Janette's card was over the limit." The girls looked at each other again in bewilderment. "The same thing happened to us" said Angel, pulling herself out of the mess by one of the hanging chains. "I think we need to check this out. When it happened to us, I figured it was none of our business, but this feels weird." Risha spoke up. "Didn't someone mess with Lacroix's credit in the last war?" *** They were lucky Angel was so familiar credit card crises. Half an hour and many phone calls later, the problem was solved. They discovered that someone had used Janette's credit cards to buy all sorts of twisted gifts for various Ravenettes. All of the purchases had been cancelled, and luckily most of them never even got sent out. Janette would not be amused when she heard about the tampering that had taken place. No one wanted to wake her so early to inform her. The Ravens and Ravenettes went back to the rest of their errands for the day. There were still purcheses to be made. Schemes to be hatched. Revenge to be had. Negotiations to pursue. It was going to be a full day for Janette's followers. Joining the Fray By Jeff Carey On the SLU campus (in upstate NY) Jeff looked wearily at the computer on his desk, after being literally buried under homework all weekend to the point where even checking his mail had been impossible he had no real wish to see the exact damage that had been done to his account by all of his lists. Finally coming to a decision he flipped the switches and watched as the computer flew to life. Waiting till the various drive lights stopped flashing he then proceeded to access his college's internal network and from there his private account on the mainframe. Bracing himself, he moved from the base screen into the mail directory and was unsurprised at the over 500 messages in the incoming box. Whispering a prayer of thanks for its infinite `incoming' space he quickly paged through it all, deleting the obvious space wasters and skimming the posts with the more interesting titles he was fascinated with all this `war' stuff. Then, just as he was getting his account back in some semblance of order the phone rang. Cursing the intrusion he barely noticed that he had been at the computer for several hours. Grabbing the phone his attitude immediately changed as he recognized the voice on the other end as belonging to Janette. "Greetings young one, I have a job for you" Shocked at the honor Jeff could only reply "Yes Mistress, whatever you wish" and was quickly filled in on the events that had occurred between Risha and Caile. "Can you do anything about it?" it wasn't a question but a challenge! "Of course m'lady, I'll get right on it!" Jeff grinned predatorily at the phone. "Then be quick about it and then join me at the Raven when you are finished, and pick up the Coke from Risha's roommate, it may prove useful!" "What about the border patrol?" Jeff asked cautiously. "I'll handle them, don't worry" then the line clicked off. Jeff typed several long and complicated codes into his computer and was rewarded by an unusually `framed' screen... A:Jeff? What the hell are you doing contacting me! J:Aristotle, Janette needs something done. A:Then why didn't she contact me herself? J:She's busy, besides, it's just negating a little Cousinly tampering with the net. A:What area? J:Check the accounts for Risha and doubleback the tamperings on the cousin who did the tampering. A:Wait a sec, ahh, it was Caile, I'll recharge everything to her accounts, anything else? J:Do a sweep of Janette's `front' accounts and do the same thing. A:Ok, but I'll expect a big favor in the future from her for this! J:Hey, I'm just the middle-man, you want payment you deal with her! Jeff disconnected satisfied that Caile's financial life had just been reduced to dust. He looked again at his computer and wished that he could continue using it but it wasn't portable and his university's mainframe was incapable of being telnetted into in any case (it just didn't have the necessary hardware). Getting up he packed, changed into a black silk shirt and black suitpants and headed out for his car. Dumping his suitcase into the trunk of the night black jaguar and settling into the black velvet driver's seat. He breathed in the exquisitely rich smell of the black swede leather of the interior paneling and his own coat, then breathed a sigh of relief and sped off into the night... *** Picking up the Coke proved no problem as Risha had already told her roommate to be waiting for him and he was able to then make for the border where, true to Janette's promise, the guards didn't even notice his passing through. Jeff then made directly for the Raven and the sanctuary offered by its midnight Mistress. Parking in one of the spots reserved for Janette's special guests he quickly slipped on his satin cape to complete his `gothic clubbing' outfit and toyed with the medallion hanging from his neck. *It's not as if the symbols would mean anything to anyone else* he thought but then recalled the last time he had been near a vamp while wearing it. Grinning deviously he remembered how the vampire had been repulsed by its mere presence while around Jeff's neck, but ofcourse this was only because the young goth believed in his talisman, and it was such a nice assurance that vamps couldn't sneak up on him. Slipping it beneath his shirt he then proceeded to arm the car's alarm and enter the club. Inside he made directly for the back room where he knew that Janette would be waiting. The shear directness of his path and the way that the vampires in the club shied from him immediately attracted the attention of his fellow Raven/ ettes who followed him into the room where he tossed the bag of Coke on the table before Janette and asked "Now what do we do?" Janette regarded him with annoyance as she *sensed* the medallion and asked "Why must you wear that infernal thing here?" Jeff smiled "Because I'm not quite ready to be turned yet m'lady, why else?" Janette burst into a fit of genuine laughter at this remark, startling everyone except for Jeff who, after a moment of trying to contain his own humor, joined her in expressing their common amusement. A few moments later Janette regained her composure and remarked "You have done well in your task. I have just heard from my contact in Caile's bank that her financial situation makes the US national debt look like child's play! You called in one of my favors with Aristotle I assume?" when Jeff nodded she continued "Good, Angel will fill you in on everything that has happened so far" Thus dismissing everyone Janette turned back to her scheming and the Raven/ ettes went back to the main bar. Mrs. Peel, We're Needed By Sharon Himmanen Of course the phone had been ringing as she walked into her apartment. And of course it had been Natalie asking her to come to Toronto that afternoon. "Come right to my office," Natalie said. "Hey! Will I get to see an autopsy?" "Mmmm, maybe. If you're good," Natalie promised. "But make sure you meet up with Linda and Elizabeth at the airport." She gave Sharon the flight information as well as the best way to get downtown to the Coroner's Building. Luckily she had a slew of frequent flyer miles from the last war. After a few calls, she was on her way to the airport, after making sure that there was a ticket to Toronto for Selma if she wanted it. The trip was pretty uneventful and Sharon used the time to catch up on lost sleep and to think about the Raven and Janette. She was well into her third war and she had so far had only minimal contact with Janette. Tomorrow night should be interesting, she thought, although she had snorted loudly when Natalie told her about Janette's request for proper apparel. Toronto airport was pretty much like any other airport, and Sharon located the gate she needed with no trouble. Holding up her sign with Linda's name on it, she waited patiently until a medium height blond woman approached her with a broad smile and a firm handshake. She immediately wanted to know what was going on, and Sharon filled her in as best she could, while they walked to the other side of the airport to pick up Elizabeth. Elizabeth's plane was late, but she finally arrived, and Sharon again found herself telling as much of the story as she knew, although her knowledge of exactly what was supposed to happen tomorrow night at the Raven was sketchy at best. Deciding that a cab ride was quicker and ultimately cheaper than any of the shuttles, they chatted among themselves as they rode toward downtown Toronto and the Coroner's Building, which they arrived at just after dark. Natalie had told her that she'd be working late and that Grace was expecting them, so they'd get in to see her with no trouble. It was definitely going to be an interesting couple of days., Sharon thought as they climbed the steps of the Coroner's building. Lisa Cat-ches On By Lisa McDavid !@#$%^&*()_!@#$%^&*() Lisa McDavid yelled, crashing down the phone. "I'll kill her! No, that's too good. I'll wait until the Newfoundland cable feed goes to Bangor instead of Detroit in January. Bwa-ah-hah- hah!" "What's the matter?" asked Karin, appearing in the doorway. "Finally sneezed your brain loose?" "Mary Farrell's the matter. I thought there was something funny about the taste of that Ceclor. John Dencoff just confirmed it. Instead of anti-biotic for that infection I had, I've taken a week of something that not only negates my anti-histamine, it *boosts* my histamine production!" "Hey, with talent like that, she's wasted on the Ravenettes," Jennise observed, following Karin into the room. "Don't think I haven't told her that," said Lisa bitterly, her voice somewhat muffled in the depths of a kleenex. "Never mind, wait til January." Karin grinned. "Oh, yes. Bangor doesn't *get* Forever Knight." "Precisely, and I'm Mary's source for tapes. Just wait until she gets a mixture of Barney and infomercials and Rush Limbaugh ...." Lisa choked on an attempt to laugh sinisterly and was pounded on the back by both vampires with more enthusiasm than sound first aid technique. "Better yet -- wait til she gets parts of Forever Knight interspersed at random with things like that, especially at the end and any time Nick looks like he might be going to kiss Nat!" Karin shuddered. "No wonder Uncle doesn't trust you." "And you called *us* fiends just because we gave the cats a little vacation," added Jennise. "That's only for starters," Lisa said. "Never mind. Larry's had a word with the local Revco's computer. The real anti-histamine's on its way over here right now." She smiled with real amusement. "Larry was most anxious to help, you know. All I had to do was promise not to give Jenny Schanke a list of his addresses and phone numbers for help with her computer class." The doorbell rang. "I think I'd better get that. We wouldn't want any -- achoo! -- accidents." "We don't?" purred Jennise, with a roseate gleam in her eyes. "No, you don't." Lisa strode toward the door. "Until I get back on my medication, Dorian won't need vampire hearing to locate us. Besides, you don't really want Java cooped up much longer. He's about due for one of his diarrhea attacks." She stopped with her hand on the door knob and looked over her shoulder. "Don't worry, I'm in for the duration now. Mary's much too nice to have thought this up on her own. Janette's much too afraid of LaCroix." Lisa's smile came as close as as mortal can to vamping out. "This has Miklos's mindprint all over it. I'm going to help this little comedy play out any way I can, and then I'm going to make him wish he'd been staked the night he was turned." Suprises By Jill Bradley As the afternoon wore on, Jill began to think of new ways to tormet the other side. She and Robert were in a small, dark, out of the way shop browsing through the selection of rubber insects when out of the blue, an idea came bursting in. "Robert, let's send that Knightie Sandra Gray something to chew on!" An evil light began to shine in Jill's eyes. "Remember how she says she is a cousin, but has those interesting dreams about LaCroix!" She began to talk rapidly to Robert, who began to look interested. "I don't know," he hesitated. "My girlfriend may not appreciate this." Jill pooh-poohed his fears. "She's your *girlfriend*. Surely she will forgive you--if she ever finds out!" Robert began nodding his head in agreement. Quickly they left the store, heading for the Victoria's Secret up the street. *** Later, in Jill's room, she and Moon waited for Robert to come out of the bathroom. The bathroom door slowly opened and his head appeared around the corner. "I'm not sure--" he began. Jill and Moon each grabbed an arm and pulled him out into the room. As Moon ran to get the camera, Jill smirked. "This will be PERFECT." She began to prod Robert to bend and pose provocatively. "Once we get these done, it'll be a snap to combine the pictures." *** Knightie Sandra Gray was home wondering what would happen next. The Knighties were not as powerful as some of the others and she--her thoughts broke off as the doorbell rang. Peeking through the hole, she saw a UPS truck outside and a delivery man standing at her door. She opened the door suspiciously, but the man in brown simply stood there with a package and a clipboard held out to her. "Ms. Sandra Gray?" he asked. She nodded and once again he proffered the board to her. "Sign here, please." Sandra slowly closed the door and locked it again. She wasn't expecting any thing in the mail and with the wars going on, she was leery of surprises. The package looked innocent enough, and as she shook it, she couldn't hear anything rattling. Taking a pair of scissors, she cut the string and the brown paper. A small gold cardboard box lay revealed. Hesitantly she removed the top. A notecard lay on top of the tissue, pure black with "L" emblazoned on it in white. She opened the card and paled as she read the note. "My dear Sandra, I want you as you want me...dreams can be reality. I will come to you this night. LaCroix" Sandra sank down on the floor, her heart beating wildly. Could it be--did he feel her need for him? She slowly opened the tissue paper to reveal a stunning peignoir--black, of course. But there was something else under the lace-- something small and square. She gasped in disbelief--no it couldn't be. There was a picture of Uncle, posing provocatively -- in the black nightie. All's Fair By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC opened up her War folder, so as to catch up on everything popsted while she was on the plane. She was very greatful Blue Max was more portable than his predecessor, Bollux, had been, given how small the tables at the Raven were. She frowned as she read what Caile had planned for Risha. This was particilarly brutal, but her wheels were already startinng to spin with ideas... Tara smiled, sipping her drink, and slipped out from behind the small table to wander over to the bar. Miklos watched her, half amused, half wary. "Can I help you?" "As a matter of fact, you can. I need a favour." "What kind of favour?" His accent as not unpleasent, and Tara smiled, despite the implications. "The kind that really requires only the minimum of fuss, and results in you and Alma netting some tasty snacks. Do you like Italian?" "As much as the next one." He continued to polish glasses, but paused long enough to meet her eyes and smile wickedly. "There are two robust young men of the names Ray and Vinnie who have been hired to do some unspeakably nasty things to our Risha. I want them taken care of, not permanently, mind you. They would be missed. But I'd rather see them a few quarts low, wandering out of here once the war is over, than joining your kind, or ending up in Nat's office." "And what do we get out of this, besides free food?" "My eternal gratitude?" "Not quite good enough, my dear." "We'll discuss prices later, after the job is done. Where will you keep them?" "I'll leave that to Alma, she always did like to play with her food." He said it in such a way that Tara knew he too liked to play, if it came to that. But she had more important things on her mind. "I'll ante up, in mine own way, you know that. But the job must be done quickly, and now, before Caile has a chance to counterstrike. There is no point in blocking one torment if she can come up with something else just as nasty just as fast. I need her blocked, for the moment." "Ordering about my staff, my dear?" Janette purred from behind her, and Tara resisted the reflex to jump. "I'm one of the veterans here, it's my job to look after the young soldiers, now isn't it? Surely you know what that's like, mmy dear." "And whom do you plan to torment, only the tormentors? Or will you wait for one of them to strike at you first?" "I'm sure they're queuing up for shots at me, I have no doubts about that," she laughed. "I can take care of myself, you know that." "You're still mortal, my dear." "And painfully aware of that, per usual." "Do you think you can stand up to any who might come before you? Even Lacroix?" "Such concern for my welfare, I'm touched." "In the head perhaps... No, you are not. But you are devious enough, I've often wandered if you have the makings of a cousin beneath your feathers." "What, and give up my well worn spot on the fence between the two? Don't be absurd, I would never limit my options that way, neither would you." "It must be tiresome, always being right." Janette glided away, back into the crowd, and LJC stared after her, wondering what the hell had just happened. She noticed the relief bartender had stepped in, and she smiled. Flight must come in quite handy, she decided, as she checked her watch. He had been gone barely quarter of an hour, but she had very high hopes. Returning to her screen to check on the progress of her fellows and enemies alike, she became lost until another sea breeze floated in the air before her eyes. She looked up to find it was in fact attached to Miklos, who pressed it into her hand with a smile. "It's done?" "Alma has the young men in question in the back room. By the time she's done with them, they'll be lucky to know what year it is, let alone who their quary may have been." "You're a good man, Miklos." "And a better vampire?" "Well, we'll see. Cheers. To war." She toasted him, and returned to her laptop, smiling.a Now that that was taken care of, she could concentrait on more pressing concerns. Susan Gets aNew Dress By Sally Norton "YEEEOWWWW!!!!!!!" A mass of howling dark fur hurled itself into Susan's chest. She fell back against the wall. "Susan," Lisa rushed over to Susan's crumpled form. "Are you OK?" "Urggh" Lisa picked up the bundle of fur and cradled it in her arms. She stroked the cat's back and spoke in a purring voice. "It's OK, Java. I'm here. Susan won't hurt you. It's OK." Susan unfolded herself and stood up. "What is that cat doing in my apartment?" She glared at Lisa. Lisa looked at Jennise, then at Karin, then at the floor. "What are YOU doing here?" Susan continued. She turned to Karin. "And YOU?" She turned to Jennise. "And YOU?" "YEEEOOWWWW" The cat howled again. "SHUT UP!" Susan howled at the cat. "Don't yell at Java." Lisa stepped back. "We didn't ASK to come here." Lisa started to whine. "This isn't my fault." "OK." Susan turned to Jennise and Karin and spoke very slowly. "What - is - going - on ?" Jennise sighed. "YEEOUUWWWW" Susan's face was a dangerous shade of purple. Jennise quickly intervenned. "Lisa, why don't you and Java go into the small bedroom. We'll explain things to Susan." "I thought I was part of this." "Lisa, please. Let us explain to Susan." "YEEEOUWWW!" "LISA. GET THAT CAT OUT OF HERE!" Susan was exasperated. She was also dirty, tired, hungry, and now, confused. This was her home. She wanted a bath. She wanted food. She wanted a cup of tea. She wanted clean clothes. She wanted quiet. She did not want a howling cat, a skulking Lisa, and Jennise launching into a long, convoluted explanation. Nor did she want Karin who sat serene and silent, sipping something red from one of Susan's wine glasses. The amused expression on Karin's perfect face annoyed Susan. This whole situation was too much. "Jennise, do NOT explain anything. I don't want to know. I just want you all to go away. NOW." Jennise looked at Susan. Susan glared back. Jennise looked over at Karin, silently asking for help. Karin spoke quietly. "Jennise, Susan needs a bath and something to eat. We can talk after she is refreshed. You go up a start a bath. I'll bring you a glass of amaretto." "Oh. Well. That's all right, then." Susan was slightly mollified. She walked toward her bedroom. "Karin, I still don't like this. Whatever THIS is." Karin swallowed slowly, savoring the liquid as it slid down her throat. She smiled up at Susan. "It's all right. We'll tell you everything. Go along now and have a long soak." "Hrumph." Susan walked off. "I might as well. You always do get everyone to do what you want, don't you." "Yes," Karin answered softly. "I do." The room was much quieter. Karin gazed into her glass. Jennise considered the floor. Moments passed. Neither vampire spoke. Java and Lisa were quiet in the small bedroom at the far end of the apartment. The only sound was the water running in the bathroom. "I think," Karin began, "one of us should take that glass of amaretto to Susan." "She's going to need it," Jennise interrupted. "She's also going to need something to eat. I'll make her an omelette." Karin stood and walked into the small kitchen. "Let's see what's in here." She began taking things out of the refrigerator. "Eggs, butter, chives. Ah, shrimp. Perfect." Karin poured a beautiful amber liquid into a delicate glass. She handed it to Jennise. "Take this to her. Tell her I'm preparing an omelette." An hour later Susan was in a much better mood. She had soaked and washed. She was dressed in fresh sweatpants and her favorite baggy sweater. She stabbed the last bite of the omelette with her fork. "You are still a wonderful cook." She thanked Karin. "Oh, I like to practice now and then." Karin smiled. Susan swallowed the last bite of the omelette. "I suppose," she said ruefully, "there is a perfectly good explanation for turning my apartment into a menagerie." She gazed at the cat asleep on Lisa's lap and her own dog, Diego, asleep on the floor under her chair. Lisa was also asleep. Karin and Jennise were awake and alert, as always. "Lisa is here under our care," explained Jennise. "Oh?" Susan encourage Jennise to continue. "We felt she might be helpful." Karin added. "I'll bet," said Susan. The explanation didn't take long. Karin was not prone to long-winded explanations. Susan looked at Jennise. "This was all your idea, wasn't it?" Jennise was startled. "Well, yes, it was. How did you know?" Susan grinned. "I recognize your touch. No one thinks like you." She chuckled. She leaned back in her chair, stretched and laughed again. "Now, what?" she looked from Jennise to Karin. "I'm afraid we're going to have another visitor." Karin looked at the clock. "Soon." "Who?" Susan was wary. "Sally." "Oh, no." Susan groaned and closed her eyes. Karin soothed, "She has your dress ready. We want to see how it looks." Karin looked at Jennise. The look they exchanged was knowing. Susan opened her eyes and looked from one to the other. "I do want to know the whole story." Susan was firm. "Ofcourse." Jennise spoke quickly. "I mean it." Karin interceded. "We agree. We won't send you to Dorian unprepared." Susan looked at the table, not seeing the dirty dishes. "I still don't know if this is a good idea. Lucinda was, well, a symbol, in a way. This could open some very unpleasant memories." Jennise eyed Susan warily. "Just how much DO you know?" Susan sighed and looked up. "Not much, really." The doorbell rang. "Ah, there's Sally." Karin spoke brightly and went to open the door. "Oh, goody," sighed Susan, "just what I want --- a corset bearer after dinner!" Jennise laughed. Sally and Susan approached the table, each carrying a heavy suitcase. "What's so funny?" asked Karin. "Do you EVER wear anything decent?" Sally demanded of Susan. "Hi Sally." Susan chirped. "How I've missed you, dear." Susan was herded back into the bedroom and told, once again, to undress. Thirty minutes later her hair was swept up and held in place by beautiful combs. She was wearing a dark blue walking suit. She gazed at herself in the mirror; she was fascinated with what she saw. "OK, what do you think?" Sally smoothed the shoulders of the jacket. Susan turned and examined her right profile. She turned again and considered her left profile. She tilted her head. One dark curl slipped out from underneath the pert little black velvet hat. The hat perched at a roguish angle among Susan't dark hair. Susan took one more step; the fabric in the train curved into a arc of rich folds. Susan looked over her shoulder and smiled at the reflection. "There's no doubt about it," she thought, "a silk bustle makes me feel elegant." Susan was grinning. "Well?" Sally asked again. Susan blushed. "I like it," she mumbled. "Oh, goody. I've been sewing myself BLIND and the best you can do is MUMBLE?" Susan took a deep breath. "Sally, I really like it . . . a lot. It's just a bit of a surprise." Susan looked at her reflection again. She started smiling, again. "I never thought I would look like this. So, uh-m-m-m." Her voice trailed off. She touched her throat and ran her hand across the neckline. Her fingers skimmed over the soft surface of the silk. "Beautiful," she whispered. "SPEAK UP!" Sally ordered. "You look gorgeous but, the effect is totally ruined as soon as you open your mouth. E- NUN-CI-ATE." Susan blinked. She turned to face Sally. "Now, what?" "Walk." "What? What?" "Yes. Walk" "Walk?" "Yes." Sally clinched her teeth. "Walk." Susan took a cautious step. Then another. Looked back at Sally. Took one more step forward. Hesitated. Took a step backward. Stepped on the dress. Lost her balance. Tried to right herself. Failed. Grabbed at the nearest object. Which happened to be Sally. Held on. Wobbled. And pulled them both down onto the floor. "Uh-h-h-h er-r-r-r ooomph. Your elbow in my stomach." "You're lucky. If you're torn this dress, I'm going to . . ." The effectiveness of Sally's threat was reduced due to the fact that she was speaking into the floor. A mouthful of carpet does not aid one when making threats. Sally pushed herself up. Jennise and Karin and Lisa and the cat and the dog all rushed into the bedroom. The cat, Java, was delighted to find a pile of shiny fabric to play with. The dog, Diego, was delighted to find this new game in progress. Sally screamed and grabbed for the cat. She missed. Lisa pounced. Java slid out of Lisa's grasp. Lisa lost her balance and landed on top of Susan. "MY HAT!!" Sally wailed. "YEOW!" howled Susan. "Oh, shut up." snapped Jennise. Karin grabbed the dog by the scruff of the neck and hauled the dog out of the room. Jennise finally made a successful grab for the cat. "Lisa, get up," ordered Jennise. "Be careful," Sally yelled. Lisa glared at Sally. She rolled off of Susan and away from the dress. She sighed and stood. "Come here," she reached for the cat and started smoothing the raised fur. Lisa looked down at Sally and Susan on the floor. "You look like a ravished heroine on the cover of a trashy novel." She spoke to Susan. Susan's hair hair had tumbled down; the small black hat was tipped over one eye and her jacket was askwew. She looked dishelleved and rakish. Jennise grinned. "Lisa's right." Sally was bent over Susan straightening the fabric. She took hold of Susan's arms. "Here, hold onto me. It will be easier to get up. Step carefully. There." Susan was standing. Sally hovered, checking the clothing. "It is beautiful," Lisa spoke softly. "Yes," Jennise agreed, "it is." "And it's a perfect match," said Karen from the doorway. "Is is all right?" Susan asked Sally. "Yes, I think so." Sally answered. "Did you make a ballgown?" Jennise asked. "Yes," answered Sally. Her head was near the floor checking the hem of the skirt. "She gets a ballgown, too!" Lisa was shocked. "Why should she get such great clothes?!?!" "Because," Karin spoke softly. "She's going to need them." Karin and Jennise exchanged looks. Susan looked from one to the other. Lisa seemed to be mesmerized by the suit. "I don't suppose . . ." she began, speaking to Sally. "Sally's time is fully booked." Jennise got Lisa off. "It's not fair." Lisa sulked. "No. It isn't," agreed Jennise. "That's enough." Karin interupted. "Sally, do you need anything else?" Sally shook her head. "Fine. Why don't you help Susan get changed and put everything on hangers in the closet. Jennise will take you to the airport when you're finished." Sally nodded. "Come on." Karin pushed Lisa and Jennise out of the bedroom. "Which ballgown did she make?" Jennise asked when they were seated in the living room. "The green one." "Ah. Of course. One of Worth's best, I think." "Worth?" Lisa asked, curious. "A dress designer a long time ago." Karin explained. "Sally made a copy of one of his ballgowns. It's pale mint green and decorated with white lace." "Sounds gorgeous," said Lisa. "It is," agreed Karin. "Where's Diego?" Susan asked as she and Sally walked into the room. "Locked in the kitchen," answered Karin. "Ready to go?" Jennise asked Sally. "Yes." Sally turned to Susan. "Remember to walk slowly. You're not used to this much fabric in your skirts. Take small steps. Do not walk backwards." Sally grinned. "You've seen what happens." Susan grinned back. "Thanks," she said. "Why don't you come with us?" Jennise invited Lisa. "We can stop at the Godiva shop on the way back." "Godiva Chocolates?" Lisa breathed the words in a whisper. Jennise smiled. "Of course. Didn't Susan tell you there's a shop near here?" They left. Susan freed Diego and soothed his hurt feelings. She looked over at Karin. "I think," she began, "it's story time." "Yes," agreed Karin, "it is." Lucinda's Story By Sally Norton Susan leaned back against the cushions. Karin sat in the large overstuffed chair. She was staring into space; her face a calm mask. "Karin," Susan began, "tell me about Lucinda." Karin didn't answer. She picked up the wineglass and sipped the dark liquid. She looked at Susan and seemed to be considering. "She's decided just how much to tell me," Susan thought. Karin bent down to the leather bag on the floor and removed a small satin box. She handed the box to Susan. Susan studied the box, looked at Karin, and then lifted the lid. A pair delicate silver earrings lay inside. They were heart-shaped and decorated with intricate floral designs. A round garnet was set in the center of each heart. "They're lovely." Susan looked at Karin, questioning. "They'll be perfect with the green dress. We expect Dorian will want you to stay for some hours. He's always a gentleman. He'll invite you to dinner." "I thought The Interview would only take a couple of hours," Susan protested. "This is the first time he's interviewed a mortal. It may take a while. You'll wear the blue suit when you arrive. We'll have the green dress delivered during the day." Susan picked up one of the earrings and held it in front of her. "These are Victorian, aren't they?" "They're a Victorian design. Garnets were very popular." "They must be valuable." Karin was exasperated. "Really, Susan, I CAN afford to give a friend a small gift. It's not the Hope Diamond! I just thought they would be pretty with the dress. Leave them at home if you don't like them." "I'm sorry. I didn't mean . . . They ARE lovely, Karin. Thank you. Of course, I'll wear them with the dress. And you're right. They will be perfect. Although, I can't imagine how I'll be able to eat anything." Karin smiled. "You don't want to feel sick or faint. Of course you'll be uncomfortable . . . and probably tired. Just try to eat a little bit to settle your stomach." Susan put the silver earring back in its box. "Now," she said. "Lucinda." Karin began Lucinda's story. May 1883, Venice Lucinda Eversleigh was twenty years old when she first visited Italy. She was making an Italian Tour with her mother and her widowed aunt. The Eversleighs were from Philadelphia where they were, if not on the top of the social ladder, certainly firmly attached to one of the middle rungs. Mrs. Eversleigh, Miss Eversleigh, and Mrs. Waltham had been in Venice for a week. They were staying at the Villa Delfino, an exclusive and discreet pensione owned by Signora Pergolesi. Villa Delfino was renown for the beauty of its rooms and the charm of its owner. Signora Pergolesi was of very good family with entre into all of Venice society. Circumstances had forced her to support herself as an innkeeper but, she was certainly the most sophisticated and subtle innkeeper in all of Italy. Many people applied to stay at the Villa Pergolesi. Few were accepted. Those who did stay, paid dearly for the honour. The signora always invited at least one of her many friends to share the evening meal with her guests. At Signora Pergolesi's table, her American guests glimpsed the manners and mores of Italian society. Dorian and the signora were old friends. Many years ago Dorian had rescued a foolish young signorina from a reckless escapade. They had become friends and remained friends. Signora Pergolesi had aged; Dorian had not. She saw him irregularly. He traveled. She did not know his background or the source of his wealth. She knew he was not like other men but, life had taught the signora discretion. She valued Dorian's friendship and allowed him to protect his privacy. Dorian was invited to the Villa to dine. The signora sat him next to the pretty young American. "They will amuse one another," thought the Signora. "She will be flattered by the attention. He will be charmed by her freshness." The morning after this dinner, Lucinda sat on the loggia outside her bedroom. The pearlescent light sparkled on the water; the red-tiled roofs stretched in all directions. The air was warm and humid. Lucinda smiled. She felt light and joyous. She felt she had never been alive until this moment. Last night she met Dorian. Only last night. She thought she had known him forever and now they had finally come together. She wanted to see him again. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to run in all directions and felt that only in his embrace would she find what she looked for. Lucinda leaned back and closed her eyes. "Dorian," she said the name to herself over and over. He was her center. She remembered his voice, his laughter, the thrill she felt when he touched her hand. "There you are, my dear." Mrs. Eversleigh walked through the bedroom, breaking Lucinda's reverie. "Your aunt has suggested we visit the gardens near San Marco today. Would you like that? They are quite famous. Signora Pergolesi suggested an outdoor cafe where we might take lunch. It sounds quite pleasant." Mrs. Eversleigh looked closely at Lucinda. "Are you feeling all right, my dear? Your colour is high." Lucinda swallowed, stood, and walked into the room. "I'm fine," she answered. "It's a beautiful morning." She turned to her mother. "I would like to visit the gardens." Mrs. Eversleigh smiled. "Finish your hair. I just want to speak to your aunt." Lucinda sat in front of the mirror. "I'll see him," she thought. "He'll be in the gardens. I know he will." The three American ladies strolled slowly along the gravel path. The deep shade of the old trees was cool and comfortable. Mrs. Eversleigh and Mrs. Waltham chatted companionably, admiring the views, the walkway, enjoying everything. Lucinda's attention was on every path. She was looking for Dorian. She was distracted and gave perfunctory answers when asked for her opinion on a view or a tree. Mrs. Waltham considered Lucinda. "I think Lucinda needs some lunch. She would not eat at breakfast. She must be hungry." She smiled. "I think I would like one of those delicious cakes we had yesterday." The cafe was lively. The scene on the street was colourful. Lucinda strained to see in every direction, peering into the face of each man who passed. The two old women exchanged looks. "What is it, my dear?" Lucinda's mother inquired. She was a gentle woman, kind- hearted and understanding, but Lucinda could not answer. The meal was served. Lucinda moved tiny slivers around on her plate. Her mother and aunt kept up the pretense of a normal conversation. After they finished her aunt said, "I am rather tired today. Would either of you mind if we returned to the Villa? I think I would like a nap." Lucinda could not suppress a sigh. Her aunt smiled at her. Lucinda wanted to run back to the Villa. She thought, "He'll be there. He's waiting for me. I know he'll be there." She forced herself to take one step at a time. The slow pace set by her mother was agony. Signora Pergolesi met them as they entered the ground floor. She smiled. "Did you enjoy the garden?" "Yes, very much." Mrs. Eversleigh answered. "Signorina." The signora approached Lucinda. "This was delivered while you were out." She held out a stiff cream envelope. Lucinda's hand shook as she took the envelope. She could not meet the signora's eyes. "Thank you," she said in a tiny voice. She started toward the stairs. "Lucinda." Her mother's voice stopped her. She turned and faced her mother, her aunt, and the signora. She kept her eyes lowered. She could feel them staring at her and at the envelope. Slowly, Lucinda opened the evelope. Her hands were moist. Her throat constricted. She felt hot and dizzy. The envelope contained a single stiff card. The handwriting was florid. She smiled. "Of course," she thought. "He writes beautifully. "What is it, my dear? Who has written to you?" asked her mother. Lucinda felt light. A delicious sense of joyousness surged through her. She looked up. Her eyes were sparkling. Her face was glowing. "It's an invitation," she almost sang the words, "from Dorian." "What?" Mrs. Eversleigh was startled. Mrs. Waltham laid a hand on her sister's arm. Mrs. Eversleigh was silent. "What is the invitation?" Mrs. Waltham asked. Lucinda was smiling. "A musical performance, tonight. At the home of . . . " Lucinda looked down at the card and then up again. "Count Tommasini," she finished. Signora Pergolesi nodded. "A charming man. Most cultured." She turned to the sisters. "You will have a lovely evening. His home is filled with beautiful things and he only invites the most interesting guests." Mrs. Eversleigh and Mrs. Waltham exchanged looks. Lucinda's mother was clearly distressed. Her aunt's expression was more knowing and a little sad. "Lucinda," her mother began. "You cannot accept an invitation from a gentleman we hardly know. We only met him last night. We know nothing about him . . . " she faltered. "I know him." Lucinda spoke softly. She wasn't defiant or angry. She looked straight at her mother. She smiled. "I know him," she repeated. "Mother, I am going." She smiled again. Her face was alight. It was as if she was glowing from the inside. "I have to change," she said to the older ladies. She turned and mounted the stairs. The room was quieter and darker. Lucinda seemed to have taken the light with her. Mrs. Eversleigh sank into a chair. She looked up at her sister. "I ... I ..." she began. Her face was distressed and confused. "I don't understand. What has happened?" She looked from her sister to the signora. "She doesn't know him." Mrs. Eversleigh insisted. Mrs. Waltham sat down next to her sister. "I think," she spoke slowly. "Lucinda has fallen in love." "That's impossible!" The signora shrugged. "Yes," she said. "It is. But impossible things do happen." Signora Pergolesi left the room. Moments later she returned. A servant followed carrying a tray. Mrs. Waltham took two glasses from the tray and handed one to her sister. "Drink a little." Mrs. Eversleigh took a slip. "Lucinda," she said in a dazed voice and again, "Lucinda." Mrs. Waltham turned to the signora. "What do you know of this man?" The signora sipped her wine. "We have been friends for many years. He is a very loyal friend, has charming manners, is quite wealthy. He has a home on the Grand Canal. He's been a guest in my home many times. I've never known him to harm anyone. He's cultured, intelligent, well educated." "He's not Italian?" asked Mrs. Waltham. "No." Mrs. Waltham looked steadily at the signora. She turned to her sister. "I think," she spoke in a calm voice, "that we will accept the invitation. We will all attend the musical evening." Mrs. Eversleigh started. "Wha . . ." "My dear," Mrs. Waltham cut her off. "Lucinda is captivated by this man. She is feeling things she never felt before." Mrs. Waltham put her glass down and took hold of her sister's hands. "We must help Lucinda or we will loose her. We will talk with him. We will become acquainted. And we will protect Lucinda from doing anything foolish." "You are very wise." The signora spoke. She looked at Mrs. Eversleigh. "Dorian is not evil. He will not attempt to seduce the signorina. He may not even be aware of her feelings. He probably only thought her a charming young woman and kindly extended an invitation. He has shown me many kindnesses over the years and has never asked for any kind of payment." "There. You see." Mrs. Waltham attempted to reassure her sister. Mrs. Eversleigh was still stunned. "It's so unlike Lucinda. We've never had any of the problems with her that so many parents have. She's not rebellious or thoughtless." "No," agreed Mrs. Waltham, "but she thinks she has fallen in love. For the first time. And that can be both joyous and painful." Mrs. Waltham squeezed her sisters hand. She smiled. "You do remember." Mrs. Eversleigh returned the smile. "Yes, I'm sure you are right." The ladies stood. "Thank you." Mrs. Waltham spoke to the signora. The sisters left the room. The signora watched their retreating backs as they climbed the stairs. "Ah, Dorian," Signora Pergolesi thought, "what have you done?" Later that evening Dorian stood talking with the signora. Their conversation was cordial but, impersonal. Signora Pergolesi watched him and thought to herself, "He is thinking of the signorina. He is watching for her. I am almost invisible." She smiled and put her hand on his arm. "Be careful," she spoke gently. He looked at her but, he was distracted as Lucinda came down the stairs. She walked straight up to him. He took her hands. They smiled at each other, turned, and walked out of the Villa. The signora stood looking after them. "Lucinda never saw me," she thought. "She doesn't see anyone except him." The signora heard soft voices behind her. The two sisters were coming down the stairs. They were dressed for the evening. Mrs. Waltham smiled. "Lucinda's not in her room. We thought she must be down here." She looked to the left and the right. She continued ruefully, "I am sure she's looking forward to the evening." Signora Pergolesi waited until they reached the bottom of the stairs. She gestured to the adjoining room. The ladies followed her. "Lucinda," began Mrs. Eversleigh as she walked into the room. She stopped. Lucinda was not in the room. She looked at the signora. No one spoke. "Where is she?" Mrs. Waltham finally asked. "She left with Dorian." "Oh, no." Mrs. Eversleigh sank into the sofa. Mrs. Waltham stared at the signora. "I couldn't have stopped her." The signora spread her hands. "She didn't even see me. They only saw each other." "Where have they gone?" Mrs. Eversleigh stood and asked the signora. "I assume to the concert at the Count's home." "Please take us there." The signora looked from one to the other. "Very well," she said. Dorian and Lucinda walked slowly. The air was soft. The night was perfect. The lights on the gondolas reflected on the water. Boats filled with people passed by. They stopped and watched the passing scene. Dorian touched her hair. She touched his cheek. They stared at one another; the rest of world receded. "We might," Dorian smiled, "attend the concert." Lucinda laughed. "I have everything I want tonight." They strolled along the canal, stopping to watch, to talk, to look at one another. Lucinda was filled with happiness. She walked lightly; she laughed easily; she was delighted with everything around her. Just before dawn they approached Dorian's home. Lucinda was laughing as she stepped out of the boat. She looked over Dorian's shoulder and her smile stopped. Her mother, her aunt, and the signora were standing in front of Dorian's house watching her. No one spoke. Dorian took Lucinda's hand. They stood together facing the three older women. "Lucinda," her mother began. Then stopped. "It's very late," her aunt spoke gently. "I think we sure go back to the villa. We have been worried about you." "Oh," said Lucinda. She looked at Dorian and looked back at the women. "I did not notice the time. I am sorry you were worried. There was no need." Mrs. Eversleigh stepped forward, reaching out. "Lucinda." Lucinda started. "Mother, wait." Lucinda and Dorian looked at one another. Their gaze excluded the rest of the world. They smiled. Lucinda looked back at her mother. Her smile was radiant. "I am home. I am staying with Dorian." *** Dorian and Lucinda were together for two years. Eventually the scene with her mother and her aunt receded and was less painful to remember. Lucinda had stayed with Dorian that first night. Her mother did not understand. She was appalled and frightened. Lucinda's behavior was so far out of the norm that it mystified Mrs. Eversleigh. Her aunt seemed to understand. Lucinda never regretted her decision. She and Dorian were everything to one another. Lucinda was quite intuitive. Dorian told her many things about his life. Lucinda guessed at things he did not tell her. Over the next months, Dorian revealed more of himself. At the end of one year, Lucinda knew everything. Dorian held nothing back from her. She loved him and he loved her. They made a life together. Slowly, Lucinda took on the responsibilities of Dorian's mortal assistant. They traveled as Dorian's work required. They were happy. There were difficulties but, they managed to find workable solutions. Their relationship was intensely private. They did not associate with the vampire community. They had slight social acquaintances among mortals. Their life was in each other. Lucinda wrote to her family, especially her aunt. She felt a kinship with her aunt. Two years after they met, they returned to Venice. They were both delighted to be back. It was to be a holiday. Dorian had no appointments. Dorian had heard of a talented jeweler in Venice. He visited the shop and discussed a pair of earrings he wanted to have made for Lucinda. "They will be most attractive," the jeweler assured him. Dorian agreed. They would be much like Lucinda: delicate, sparkling, with more intricacy visible the longer one looked at them. "I am," he thought, "content." The earrings were finished a week later. Dorian and Lucinda had lately been in England and France. Lucinda had ordered new gowns from M. Worth. She was delighted with their extravagance. She planned to wear the green one that night. She and Dorian were to attend the opera. Lucinda was in her dressing room finishing her toilette. Dorian spoke from the doorway. "You look wonderful. That colour suits you to perfection." Lucinda returned his smile. "It is beautiful." She looked back at her reflection. "I think it is my favorite." She followed Dorian onto the landing. He was adjusting his tie, looking at himself in the large mirror that hung at the top of the stairs. "You do look handsome." She kissed his cheek. He smiled. "I think that dress needs something," he said. She grinned. "When did you become an expect on ladies dresses?" she teased. "Oh, I've had years of experience," he answered with mock solemnity. Lucinda laughed. "Years anyway." Dorian pretended to grimace. He reached into his pocket and removed a small box. He presented it to Lucinda. She held her breath as she opened the box; she let out a tiny sigh when she saw the earrings. "They are lovely." "Yes," he agreed looking at her face. "Put them on." "You do have perfect taste," she laughed, admiring herself in the large mirror. She whirled around, dancing. The light from the chandelier shimmered on her skirt and made the garnets shoot tiny sparks of deep red fire. Dorian was dazzled. She stopped in front of him and dropped into a graceful cursty. She tilted her head and smiled up at him from behind her lace fan. She laughed and stood, twirling around but, her foot caught in the long train and she lost her balance. She reached out, gasped, and fell. The back of her head hit the edge of a stair. Her neck broke. She was still. She lay halfway down the staircase. The beautiful pale green silk made graceful folds around her body. Dorian screamed in pain. He few to Lucinda but, he wasn't quick enough. Her fall was too sudden, too unexpected. He was relaxed and happy. He wasn't alert. He wasn't ready for danger. He knelt next to her and cried. The servants found him holding her, calling her name. *** Karin stopped talking. She and Susan sat in silence for a few minutes. Karin refilled her glass. Susan got up and left the room. She returned a few minutes later carrying a mug of tea. She curled up on the sofa. "What happened after that?" she asked. Karin took a deep breath. "Dorian went crazy. The servants contacted Signora Pergolesi who wrote to Lucinda's family. Her aunt took a boat from New York and traveled to Venice. She collected Lucinda's body and took it back to America. Lucinda was buried in the family plot. Signora Pergolesi dealt with the authorities. It all took several months. Travel was much slower back then." Karin leaned back and closed her eyes. "It's tragic," Susan spoke softly. "Yes." "Karin, I don't want to do this. It was a long time ago. You said they stayed out of the community. Probably no one knew her or just thought she was another in a long line of mortal assistants. Why bring this up? It's too painful." She paused. "Although," she started to speak slowly, "it is a wonderful story." Karin sat up. "NO!" She glared at Susan. "DON'T EVEN THINK OF IT! YOU CANNOT WRITE THIS STORY!" "Why not?" asked Susan. "I can't be in more trouble than I'm in now." She stopped. "And," she continued, "it is a great story." She eyed her laptop computer. "NO!" Susan looked at Karin. "What else is there? You haven't told me everything, have you?" Karin didn't answer. "Well?" Susan persisted. "LaCroix knew about Lucinda and Dorian." Karin said. She stopped. "Oh." "He kept watch on them." "Why?" Karin sighed. "Why does Uncle do anything? YOU go ask him!" "Uh, no thanks." Karin began again. "He didn't interfere. Dorian never knew LaCroix was watching. Uncle saw Dorian pick up the earrings and followed him home. He got into the house." "Is there anywhere he can't get into?" Susan interrupted. Karin shrugged. "Probably not. Anyway, he was in Dorian's house and he saw the accident." "WHAT?" Karin nodded. "He stayed in the shadows but, he saw the whole thing. Later, when Dorian was raging in grief and the servants had gone to get help, he stole the earrings." "WHAT?" Susan squeaked. Karin nodded again and looked at the small satin box on the table. Susan followed her gazed. Susan started shaking her head. "Oh no!" she cried. "NO!" she wailed. Susan gulped and started to hiccup. She put her head down in her hands. "OH NO-O-O-O-O-O!" Her voice trailed off. Karin waited until Susan's hysteria subsided. She spoke soothingly. "Susan. This is going to be very useful. Dorian will be unnerved." "UNNERVED!" Susan choked. "You DO have a talent for understatment! He'll be bloody bonkers!" Karin smiled. "And you, my dear friend," Karin spoke slowly, "will - be - in - control." Karin looked at Susan. Susan swallowed. "Well, yes," she acknowledged. "If he doesn't kill me," she added. "Oh, he won't do that," Karin assured her. "How can you be so sure?" Susan demanded. "Because," Karin smiled smugly, "Uncle thinks of everything." In Which Interview Arrangements Are Made By Karin Welss " I'm really worried!" Susan said. "Maybe I should have let Laurie and Sharon kidnap me after all... saving me from Dorian just to throw me to LaCroix isn't really an improvement, is it?" Karin took another sip of the blood in her goblet, and licked her lips. "C'mon, Susan, you're my friend. I you for all the help you've given me. Why do you think Jennise and I volunteered for this mission? And Uncle doesn't have anything against you-- as far as he's concerned, you've given him lots of good PR over the past year. It's really in his interest to keep you in... circulation, so to speak." Karin laughed at her own pun, and reached over for Susan's laptop. "Right..." Susan commented skeptically, nervously twisting a long lock of glossy brown hair around her finger. "But I've given Dorian good PR, too, and look where it's gotten me." "Well, an Interview doesn't necessarily mean you're doomed. As long as you haven't broken the Code, and you don't try to lie to Dorian..." Karin pointed out, as she deftly unplugged the cord from the phone and slipped it into the laptop's modem jack. The machine chittered and beeped as it booted up, and after a few seconds, Karin wrinkled her nose. "Eeewww-- Windows. I'm more of a Mac person, myself." She began to type commands, continuing in a sort of abstracted voice-- "Nick, Janette, and LaCroix all survived Interviews, right?" Susan shuddered as she remembered what had been done to LaCroix, slopping some of the tea onto the front of her comfy terrycloth bathrobe. "Barely." Karin looked at her email. She had a new message from Dorian. He'd changed his email address, she noticed. *** From: The Archivist To: jennise@dgi.com, kwelss@us.oracle.com Subject: Susan Garrett's Interview Ladies, Thank you for providing me the background materials for Susan Garrett's Interview. I will review them in detail this weekend. Good job. I intend to Interview Ms. Garrett on Monday, October 31st. Please arrange for private quarters-- Ms. Garrett's apartment will not be suitable as its location is far too well known. Regards, Dorian, the Archivist *** Karin looked up. "Your Interview is set for Monday," she said quietly. The teacup rattled against the saucer as Susan put it down on the coffee table. "This Monday? ?" Karin nodded. "Kind of appropriate, don't you think? And I'm supposed to arrange the location..." She tapped the laptop's screen contemplatively, her hazel eyes showing a glint of gold. Susan sat forward. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Karin nodded, and began to type a reply to her boss. "Uh- huh. `The Slaughtered Lamb.' It'll be perfect..." "And Nick, Janette, and... LaCroix will all be nearby." Susan finished, a ray of hope lighting her eyes. Karin gave her friend a conspiratorial smile that showed the barest hint of fang, and finished typing. *** From: The Archivist's Assistant To: Dorian Subject: re: Susan. M. Garrett Interview CC: jennise@dgi.com Dear Dorian, I will make arrangements to hold the Interview at `The Slaughtered Lamb' in New York City. I've been advised by reliable sources that this tavern has private rooms, and that the staff is very, very discreet, if you know what I mean. Directions to follow. I assume that you wish to begin the Interview at dawn on Monday? Sincerely, Karin kwelss@us.oracle.com Jennise and Karin Turn In By Jennise Hall INT. LIVING ROOM - SUSAN'S APARTMENT Karin exits the mail program and hands the laptop back to Susan. KARIN There. All set. Susan opens the earring box, runs her fingers over the earrings. SUSAN You're sure I can handle Dorian? KARIN You know more about him than most. Susan jumps ten feet at the sudden BANGING on the apartment door. KARIN It's just Jennise. SUSAN (over her shoulder) You could have warned me. She opens the door. Lisa steps past Susan into the apartment. Jennise remains outside the door. JENNISE Karin, we gotta go. We don't have much time. LISA (to Susan) Hope you don't mind a roommate for the evening. Karin gathers her things with vampiric speed. SUSAN Why don't you stay here the day. I can handle the windows. JENNISE Sweetie, there's a war on. You don't give anyone that kind of secret. You all set? KARIN I just got her calm. Then you pop in making enough noise to wake the dead. JENNISE Sorry. But we're late. Can't you feel it? KARIN I'm ready. Karin heads out the door. Jennise turns back to Susan. JENNISE Don't worry. We've made sure you have enough of the cards to protect yourself. You'll be fine. SUSAN Thanks. She closes the door. SUSAN I think. INT. JENNISE'S CAR - NIGHT - A FEW MINUTES LATER The car speeds toward a warehouse district. JENNISE (loudly) You told her pops was there when lucinda died? KARIN It calmed her down. She has no idea Uncle is behind this.. JENNISE You better hope Pops agrees. Jennise presses a garage door buzzer and drives into one of the warehouses. KARIN He's got no reason to be upset. Everything is going exactly as he planned. JENNISE And Susan is going to be stuck smack dab in the middle. Serves her right. She's a danger to all of us. Should be fun watching her worm her way out of this. LACROIX (V.O.) You ladies are cutting it pretty close. They look toward the second level. Seconds later he lands in front of him. JENNISE Had to take Sally to the airport. There was an accident. But everything with Susan is following the script perfectly. LACROIX Perfectly? Does that include the part Karin's convinced I won't be upset about? Karin nervously galnces to her blood sister for a little support, but finds only air. KARIN It's nothing really... Daughter of the Wind By Valerie Meachum Valerie had been jumpy all day, anxious to escape the shackles of the laser printer as it spit out 93 bazillion letters asking for money that all had be be signed, stuffed, and mailed by Thursday afternoon. Sometime she really had to do something about that habit of making herself indispensible at work...except that every time she tried to teach someone else how to deal with the Jurassic monstrosity they called a database, they wanted no part of it. It was her baby, and today she *really* hadn't wanted it. No matter. She was home now, and free to act on Natalie's request for her presence, along with that of the other NatPackers, at some sort of powwow at the Raven tomorrow night. She'd never quite made it to the Raven last war--probably a good thing, she'd managed to get Janette quite annoyed enough at her in Nick's loft, criticizing her callous indifference to her "followers". Valerie swore to herself there wouldn't be a repeat of that, although from what she'd heard Janette was up to the same old game, suddenly conveniently forgetting Susan's existence the second she had drawn Dorian's attention. Dorian. She couldn't help a little shudder at the thought. She was dreadfully worried for Susan, but there was also a suspicion that the Empress of FKFIC wouldn't be the only hapless writer to fall headlong into this enigmatic "loophole" in the Code. Valerie herself hadn't been very active lately, but recent revelations about Janette's history had echoed to closely her own speculations on the subject nearly two years before. Eep. ANother icky thought...something else for Janette to hold against her. Maybe she wouldn't be the best person to have at this meeting after all... "Focus, kiddo, it's gotta be done." Critically Valerie examined the haphazard pile of stuff next to her dumped- out dance bag, clutching at the silver-and-lapis-lazuli pentagram around her neck for the umptieth time, jsut for a little dash of stability. Clean underwear, anti- perspirant, toothbrush--wouldn't do much good to be "properly dressed" by Janette's standard if her personal hygiene fell by the wayside. Black velvet leggings, pirate shirt, conch belt, more silver gypsy jewelry than she usually wore in a week these days. Moderate heels, enough to accentuate her height without making her walk like Audrey in Little Shop of Horrors. All her makeup was at the theatre, since she had no use for it in everyday life; Janette would just have to put up with a naked face in her precious club. As an afterthought, and not really certain why, she tossed in her Art Nouveau Tar, a small pouch of various pet crystals. Glancing at thehe bookshelf, she eyed Llyr, her atheme, and decided to slip it into the small purse she had substitued for her usual Dreaded Bottomless Bag.The weight of the small pewter dagger was comforting, though she fervently hoped the blade would stay right where it was. "Guess that's it," she sighed, topping off the dance bag with the mobile physical therapy unit that normally lived in it: a couple Ace bandages, a chemical cold pack, adhesive tape and Band-Aids galore, neosporin, Ben-Gay. That, too, she hoped would be an unnecessary precaution. With another sigh she pulled out her car keys, mentally steeling herself for the 8-hour drive to Toronto "You won't need those." "Who the hell...?!" A heartbeat ago she had been alone; Jack and their British houseguest Karen were off exploring the various bookstores of Columbus, taking a break from Karen's steady devoural of the FK tapes downstairs. Now there was a strange man standing in her cluttered bedroom. Llyr was out of her purse in a flash, but the man made no move either toward or away from her. "You won't need that either. I'm no threat to you." "Yeah?" Valerie kept t blade at ready, meeting hte intruder's gaze far more steading than she expected. "So how about an explanation?" He gave her one, and by the time he was finished she still wasn't certain whether to put the dagger away or clutch it tighter. Dragutin! She'd heard the name only once, in the cryptic post John had sent in the aftermath of the last war by way of apology for trying to make a meal of her in Nick's apartment. This guy was a crony of that Enforcer, not just a vampire but a wizard to boot. And he was trying to tell her *her* power was needed, that she could go to the NatPack/Raven summit because it was important but that she too figured into the tangle of fate involving Susan, Dorian, and the Enforcers. "Like hell I do!" she snapped in response to that one. "There's nothing `fate' about it. What there *is* is a friend of mine in danger because your paranoid Code can't deal with her knowing things she has *no* intention of using against you!" "It isn't *my* Code," Dragutin objected. "You know what I mean! Susan and her stories are no threat to the vampire community, and I'll bet Dorian knows it! He's just covering for some agenda of his own!" The mage looked at her sharply. "What made you say that?" Valerie opened her mouth to answer, closed it, opened it again, and admitted, "I have no idea." "Just like you had no idea why you wrote that Janette had been a prostitute." "That was a nightmare I had to get out of my head! And for gosh sakes, *don't* mention it to her--I'm hoping she hasn't noticed that story." "But you may be certain Dorian has," Dragutin pointed out. "A little knowledge is a dangerous thing." "Don't you throw that at me! That's my phrase! That's for Creepy Crowley Clone from my old dorm and the rest of the nuts who think they can use magic for whatever they want. I'm a simple witch. I don't push what I don't understand when I don't belong." Dragutin shook his head. "Sometimes it pushes at you, child. A witch, yes, but you have never been simple. This knowledge comes to you without your asking, and it pulls you into the midst of this game. You have to recognize your power and learn where you *do* belong if there is any hope for Susan and for the rest of you who pluck our lives out of thin air and put them on paper." "That's what Dorian wants, isn't it!" "I don't know." She didn't know whether to believe him, but there was no hint of a lie about him, and far more often than not she *knew*. It wasn't that unusual, lots of people did that, including Natalie... "Oh, cripes, Nat's going to *flip* about this one! Just what she needs." "Circumstances will force her to recognize her power soon enough," Dragutin predicted. "For now, it's your turn." Valerie thought it over; it only took a second, really. It was a risk to trust this person, but the prospect of rescuing Susan was worth it. First, though, she had to answer the summons--the Susan issue would be a part of this meeting, she was sure, but there were other issues she knew nothing about as yet, and she knew with leaden certainty that they were equally important. She had only time to wonder what Jack and Karen would think when they returned to find her gone as expected but Angelique the Wonder Metro still parked outside, and to fervently hope Janette had never read "Silent All These Years". Then her bedroom vanished abruptly, replaced by Grenville Street outside the Coroner's Building. After a stunned second, she asked, "Can I learn that?" "First thing, if I have anything to say about it. We will discuss that soon." "That was just you? No Trump, no nothing?" "You speak of the gate card you had of the Raven that destroyed itself? No, such things are only obstacles." "Oh." Valerie wondered briefly what her Amber-gamemaster fiance would think of his masterpiece being called an "obstacle"; but since it had gone kaput for no discernible raeson several weeks ago she suppoed Dragutin had a point. "Well, let's see if we can get in to talk to her." Amy Joins In (Helps Out) By Amy Denton I hung up the phone with bang and looked at her cat, Snowflake, (the FoS's). "That little demon." I muttered at the cat. "How could he even suggest such a thing for either Sydney or Tara." Glancing at the clock on the mircowave, I saw it was 7:30 p.m. (Houston time) I thought. "First thing, though," I said, speaking to her cat again,"is to find the number for Toronto information. Geez, my phone bill is going to be obscene." Picking up the phone again, I dialed the number for information and then dialed the number for long-distance information. Since this was an out-of-country call, I had to do a little tap-dancing to get the number for Toronto information but finally I did. While I was waiting for Toronto information to come on, several things ran through my mind. My talk with Cousin Mike had been quite informative and he had told me a lot of his plans and ergo the Cousin's plans untill he remembered what faction I was in. Then he had shut up and refused to say anything else, but he had said enough. I had a good idea of what he was planning for 2 Ravenettes and Sydney. Finally, Toronto information came on and I asked for the number for The Raven. After receiving the number, I asked for the operator to connect me simply because I had no idea of how to place an out-of-country call. The phone rang and rang and rang and finally after the 6th ring, someone picked up, someone male, with a European accent. "Hello?" "Is this The Raven?" I asked, unsure as to whether I had actually reached my goal. "Yes. We aren't open yet. Call back in a couple of hours." I paused,< well no time like the present> "Is a Tara O'Shea or an Angel Mercedes there?" "No." "Do you know if they will be there?" "No." I paused again. "Any more questions?" -Click-!!! Like a lightbulb turning, I recognized the voice on the other end of the phone. Miklos!!! "Hello?" "Yeah, I'm still here. Listen, I need a message given to both Tara O'Shea and Angel Mercedes. Would you do that?" "Depends on what the message is." "All you need to tell them is that Cousin Mike is planning something devious for them. Something involving ducks,I think, for Tara and something worse for Angel. Just tell them to be carefull." "Who is this?" "A concerned friend." "Why should I tell them this?" I felt like putting my head down on the table and banging my head. "Because I went through a lot of trouble to make this call and I would really appreciate if you would tell them. Will you or do I have to call back later and talk to them myself. I know they'll be there sooner or later. I'll just keep trying. It would be easier if you relayed the message." Silence on the other end, then the sound of muffled voices. "All right. I see that they get the message." "You've got it written down?" "Yes. Any other messages you want relayed?" "No, that's all. Thanks. Bye." "Good-bye." Click. The line disconected and as I sent the phone back in the cradle. I wondered More Cats and Airports By Windy L. Treese "Julian, I'm home. Is Betsy back yet? She hasn't been home for two days now. I have to go to Toronto to." Mrmph. "You're right. I'll take and charge the ticket to Janette. After all you are Betsy's cat, even though you are a knightie. Well, I'l call Nick and let him know he has to pick me up at the airport." The phone rang about 6 times before the machine clicked on. "This is Nick Knight, I'm either in bed or incommunicado. Leave a message at the hasta la bye-bye." "Nick I know you're either undead or incommunicando but you better get you're caddy-driving self to the toronto airport at 9pm tonite or I'll call Don andMyra for a ride. Love to hear your explanation for that. See you then." After quick packing and charging some tickets to a certain female vampire I was off to BWI. From The Frying Pan (Part 3 of 3) By Risha Jorgensen "Sigh." Risha sat in the Raven Club, board to tears. Nothing seemed to be happening today. Sure, they had all gone shopping today (and Risha had picked up the _tastiest_ little black dress along with all the party supplies), but she had been stuck in the Raven for HOURS. She couldn't even go out to explore Toronto, since the possibility of Caile taking more revenge still remained. That stopped her. "Wait a second. I still need to get Caile. Her response to my... little trick went WAY over the top. I'm under orders not to do anything to nasty, but..." Risha picked up the phone. "She'll _hate_ this!" A little over three hours later Caile got a call from _her_ room- mate Amberlee. "They did WHAT?!? That b**** Risha must be responsible. Now I'm _really_ mad." Meanwhile, back at the dorm, Amberlee stared helplessly at pink: pink curtains, pink rugs, pink sheets and pink blankets (with lots of pink lace), and lots of pink posters covered with little furry bunnys on pink fields of clover. Shaking her head in disbelief, she started on the long task of hauling all of their real stuff out of the closet (where it had all been neatly stacked) and getting rid of the horrible pink stuff that the room was drowning in instead. On Rudeness By Karen Knight Karen went back to her hotel room. She had a lot of things to do for Jeanette, but there was one thing she had to take of first. Karen had walked into Jeannette's office. "Excuse me, Jeannette. I'm Karen Knight. No, no. I'm a Ravenette. I just read my e-mail and there was a rather rude comment from a hopelessly immature person regarding simple mistakes made some of us new to the list." Jeannette raised her brow "Yes? And what do you want of me?" "Only your permission to arrange for someone to teach the child some manners." "But of course, you have my permission. Use my phone." With the Devil dancing in her eyes, Karen picked up the phone and dialed. "Some people must learn the hard way," she thought. Mission Accomplished By Karen Knight Karen saw the red message light on her phone blinking. It was Andre. She had taken care of the rude poster effectively. Andre could be such fun! Karen began to unpack her shopping bags. She hoped Jeanette would be pleased. Earlier, she had sent off the package of 70's disco music, complete with clothes (bell bottoms, large gold chains, etc.) Poor Cousin John - she almost felt sorry for him. *** Cousin John opened the package with some trepidation, though the card stated it was from Cousin Lisa. He saw the 45s he saw the...NO! Bell bottoms! Polyester! His vampire fashion senses reeled. He felt heimself getting weak, weaker....And he was down. Dawn Gets A `Hauntin By L. Dawn Steele Dawn was watching "Father Figure" on TV. A station out of London, Ontario was still showing the first season episodes and she was using the opportunity to get all the episodes. Canadian length of course. The apartment was still a mess. Astrophysic books were littered across the floor and the kitchen was a cluttered with dishes. *I should have looked at my new assignment tonight. I'm going to regret taking a couple hours off tomorrow...* *Hell! All work and no play makes Dawn a very dull graduate student...* Out of Dawn's sight, an article on Raman shifting had started to flutter and move across the floor, as if in a strong breeze. *Off goes the pause button... I wonder if I should check my email. There another war going on. Dawn, Dawn, Dawn! Get ahold of yourself! You have time to get involved in a war.* In the kitchen a small plate started to wobble. *Still... I could check if other Die-Hards needed any help. There was that strange suicide in Toronto. Ruth was a Die-Hard, wasn't she? With a war going on, you can't really trust the police's conclusions.* As if the recent thought had given it impetus, the "wind" stopped bothering the china and moved over to the entertainment center. The piles of video tapes started to tilt, and then dozens of tapes spilled onto the carpet. "Hey! What's going on here?" Before Dawn's disbelieving eyes, a white shape started to materialize in her living room. It gradually assumed a shape about 5 feet in height and seemed to be wearing a trailing white gown. Suddenly Dawn had images of wedding cakes. <<>> "Ummm. I can handle this. If I can handle vampires existing, I can handle a ghost in my living room." <<>> "Are you trying to say something?" Dawn felt hesitant about approaching, but the ghost didn't disappear. It felt cold and her hand passed through what appeared to be a shoulder. <<>> "Listen. I ummm can't figure out what you're saying. Could you enunciate a bit better?" The figure drifted over to the computer in the corner of the living room. It's hand pointed to the on button. "Ahh. You want me to turn on the computer? Are you sure you won't short it out? I don't think the warrenty covers ghosts..." <<>> The ghostly figure seemed to have more energy when it got a bit worked up. Books started to levitate and fly across the room. Dawn heard movement in the kitchen, and then a succession of crashes. "Okay look! I'll turn it on!" The computer was turned on and as it was warming up, Dawn half-heartedly listened to the TV in the background." {... You want to leave this house Daniel. You want to run for your life...} *You said it Nick.* When the figure started to point to the modem, Dawn didn't hesitate at all this time. Within moments the modem was working and trying to patch into the McMaster University modem pool. *Please let me get in!!! I don't ask for much...* To Dawn's surprise and amazement, she got through on the first try. *It usually takes more than half an hour on weeknights!* With the ghost hovering over her shoulder, Dawn started to go through her files. The floating mouse helpfully gave directions by moving left, right up and down. Suddenly she found it. [Ruth Dempsey, Affiliation: Die-Hard. Current Status: Dead. An apparent suicide in a Toronto hotel. NB: Check into it?] <<<>> "I take it that's you?" Dawn could tell that the ghost... Ruth? was excited. The futon chair had started to move across the floor and more and more objects started to levitate. More crashes could be heard from the kitchen.
Whether she had accomplished what she had set out to do or not. Ruth had obviously run out of time. She started to fade, and even her voice was becoming more and more indistinct. The objects had settled to the floor. "Ruth! Wait! Do you want me to check into it?" Dawn reached out to her, but Ruth was fading before her eyes. "Come back! I'm sure we can figure out a better way to communicate!" It was no use. Ruth had been temporarily exhausted but her activites and was almost completely gone. Dawn wasn't sure, but she could have sworn that just before Ruth disappeared completely, the ghost had made one last comment. It was faint, but seemed to resonate in the air, long after the last traces of white had disappeared. <<<<....Heathcliff....>>> Dawn looked around at the shambles that was left of her apartment. On the TV Schanke and Natalie fought over Lisa's comic books. Dawn wasn't paying attention though. She walked into the kitchen. "Oh well... Now I don't have to do the dishes." Curiouser & Curiouser! By Caile Donachaidh Kane I, having adopted Uncle's hours, rose as the night began to fall over Toronto. I went promptly to the computer and recieved the following message: *** From: mx%"jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu" To: mx%"LC@dungeon.com" Subj: for Caile Cousin Caile: The Raven/ettes attacked your accounts. Luckily, the dummies that Uncle set up for you foiled them - your *real* accounts are still safe in Switzerland where Uncle transferred them to. I told you, we did not forget a single precaution! Also, it helped that the person who made the attack was not very skilled - we'll find out who it is soon enough. So don't worry, you're still safe with Uncle. Just watch yourself. Cousin John w/ no time for a .sig jdencoff@polaris.unm.edu *** "Bloody hell!" I swore aloud to myself. The house was silent, my voice the only thing that broke the stillness. I muttered unflattering things under my breath about the Raven/ettes while I scrolled through the rest of the messages. Mostly personal mail for Uncle, which I left well enough alone, and posts from the lists. I read the posts that interested me, and left the lot for Uncle. In the meanwhile, I got phone call from my roomate, who informed me that my room's decor had been changed to baby pink, courtesy of the Raventtes. This did not improve my mood. I would tell Uncle when he got back. He had left a message stuck on the computer which informed me that he had gone out, and would be back when he finished his business. Wondering vaguely what sort of business he was up to, I decided I would go for a walk. Perhaps I'd go downtown... visit the Raven... I snickered to myself at the thought. After all, no-one but Janette & Risha has any idea of what I look like. But on the other hand, I do have Lacroix's mark on me... I toyed with the silver Vampire's Ankh that had appeared on my pillow the evening before. I'd put it on, knowing full well what it meant. Oh, what the heck. I forced myself to stop waffling and just go. Thanks to my Uncle- sponsored excursion at Saks, I had just the outfit to wear to the Raven. It was a long black slik dress, fitted with a lace-up bodice on top, nipped in waist, and flowing layers of silk for the skirt. It was low cut, off my shoulders, with full billowing sleeves. It covered my feet when I stood in it, and I put on only simple slippers to walk in. Over the top of this, I donned my full length black wool cloak - I was gonna need it, in this weather. I glanced in the hall mirror on my way out. In the lamplight, I looked like a person from an entirely different era. The ankh flashed. I shivered. I was ready to go. I had already committed all of the alarm codes to memory, and the key was in my purse. By the time I got back, Uncle'd probably be home anyway. I had a pleasant and uneventful walk through Uncle's neighbourhood. The street lights were bright and many, the houses well spaced apart with their iron fences. As I grew closer to downtown, however, I began to grow uneasy. I glanced behind me several times, and each time I thought I saw someone following me. A tall fellow dressed in dark clothing, a long black trench coat. I stopped and stared into a storefront, lighting a cigarette. The man crossed the street and stood in the shadows. He appeared to be taking notes. I continued on my way, winding through the streets toward the Raven. He was never far behind. I stopped at a Uni-Mart, and bought a chocolate covered cherry. He stood outside and wrote in his little book. I was beginning to feel like a hunted animal. Finally, I reached the Raven. The noise assailed my ears from the street. The man stopped several yards behind me. As I was about to go in the door, I whirled around - and he was gone. I trembled a little, now beginning to feel frightened. I lit a cigarette and steadied myself. Time to go inside and... have some fun, I told myself. Relax. I looked down at my hands, which were shaking violently, and ordered myself to relax. Then I went inside. The bar was packed. People were dancing , smoking, drinking. I went up to the bar and ordered a Glennfiddich, neat. Miklos stared at the ankh around my neck and told me they only had Dewars. "Just give a straight Scotch of any sort, please." I sighed with exasperation and prayed that he didn't ask for ID. He didn't have to. Long nails sunk into my shoulder. "This little one isn't old enough to smoke that cigarette in her hand," came Janette's voice from behind me, "much less drink that Scotch." She turned me around, and none too gently, either. "Wouldn't you rather have a pop?" "Janette, darling, how nice to see you," I purred, blowing smoke in her face. "So tell me - the guy who was following me tonight. Is he one of your people?" She blinked. "I haven't any idea what you're talking about." I considered this. It was possible - this was a *war* after all, and Uncle had warned me that there were some pretty high powers involved. I decide to believe her. "All right then. Now what do you..." I had intended to grill her about my bank accounts, but she cut me off with a gasp. Then her eyes narrowed. "What..." she said from between clenched teeth, "is... that... doing... around... YOUR... neck?" "A gift," I replied. She was obviously shaken by the sight of the ankh. "Get out," she snarled. "Don't let me ever see your face again. And tell your *Uncle*," she spat the name at me with contempt, "to keep his pets leashed from now on." She had me escorted to the door by a pair of beefy bouncers, who flashed their fangs at me in a departing smile as they pushed me out the door. I brushed myself off and fairly ran home. Uncle was waiting with a frown. I told him everything that had happened, and he sent me to my room. "This is something I need to puzzle out myself," he told me. I balked. "Why can't I help?" "Because you've caused enough trouble for one night." He looked like an angry father, staning with one hand on his hip. "Go on, there's a hot meal waiting up there for you. Take that stuff off your face and get out of that ridiculous costume. Now, go." The last was an order, not a statement. I reluctantly went on up to my room, ate my dinner and sat reading, until I fell asleep with the morning light. On the Road Again By Perri Smith Perri leaned her head against the plane window wearily. It had been a long day at the paper, rushing to finish the section before she could get to LAX and catch her flight ot Toronto. She hoped the paper would survive without her for the weekend - Nick needed her more than they did. She thought back over the events of the last day - Sandra's message about Nick wanting them to stay out of the war and the *beautiful* gifts from the Cousins had come together at just the right time - more than ever, Perri was determined to protect Nick from those traitorous Cousins, not to mention the Raven/ettes. Sandra and Nick had both given into the idea she and Windy had proposed -- to come to Toronto and make sure Nick had back-up -- only after many loud protests. As a matter of fact, it had taken Sandra the better part of an hour to convince Nick that they couldn't be talked out of it. He wasn't happy about it, darn his sweet, gallant, *naive* self, but the car and the credit card had been waiting for Windy at the airport, Sandra said, and there would be a shuttle waiting for Perri. Apparently, Nick had decided if they were going to be there, he would do what he could to keep them safe. She shivered in her seat, whether from tiredness, fear or excitement - she wasn't sure. To meet Nick in the flesh, after all the stories she had heard, all of the hero worship she had sent his way in the last few weeks. And then there was LJC, and Janette and La Croix - "I never even *liked* vampire stories. Now I'm walking into a bloody nest of them!" She spared a quick thought for the Ravenette Lorelei. By now, news of her retaliation should have gotten to her, even in Toronto. She wondered what the response would be. It could be anything. But no one outside the office would know she was gone - Abby would make sure of that by answering the phone in her name for anyone but LJC or Tara O'Shea, the only Ravenette who knew her voice. Abby was also going to moniter her e-mail and watch for tampering. She didn't put it past LJC to take a low blow at her accounts. Everyone on the paper thought the whole thing was terminally wierd, but a quick explaination about a stalker and family problems in Canada had talked them into going along with the gag. She *had* to keep the Raven/ettes from knowing she was in Toronto. "Hope Abby doesn't get into any trouble over this," she thought to herself, slowly drifting off into sleep. *** She woke up when the plane landed a few hours later. The shuttle was waiting for her, as promised, and she headed for the hotel. It was late enough that she didn't think any of the Ravenette's would be around - Nick had left a note warning her they were staying in the same place - but she knew she had to be careful. If the Ravenette's or the Cousins found out she was in town and not back in Los Angeles where she belonged, it could ruin everything. She dumped her one suitcase in her room and checked the cross around her neck for the fortieth time. It might not do much against vampires, but it was better than nothing. And the garlic in her purse didn't hurt. "Thanks for the idea," she told Susan G. in a mental tip of the hat. Picking up the phone, she made a few quick calls, checking in with her brother Lynn on the East Coast and warning him to make excuses to the list if anyone noticed she wasn't responding to posts -- no point in making LJC suspicious by silence. Then she called Abby, waking her at home. Abby said nothing had happened so far. Perri left her room, making *real* sure the door was locked and went down the hall, knocking just loud enough to wake whoever was inside. Windy answered the door, rubbing sleep from tired eyes. "It's me, Windy, Perri." Windy grinned at her, stifling a yawn. "Took you long enough to get here." "Sorry, my flight was late. Any word from Nick, Jim or Sandra?" "None yet." A curious meow came from at her feet. Perri leaned down to pick up the beautiful cat twining around her legs. "Oh, you must be Julian. Hello, gorgeous!" She stoked the cat absently, looking back at Windy. "Well, I guess we'd better get some sleep. We've got an ... interesting day tomorrow." "Yes, that's one way to put it." It was Perri who grinned and yawned this time, putting Julian down. "See you in the morning." She went back to her room after she heard Windy's door lock. She checked the locks on her own and made sure the garlic was close at hand. Then she turned out the lights, and slept. ------- CHAPTER 13 Wednesday, October 26, 1994 Toronto, Toronto By Windy L. Treese I got off my plane in Toronto and Julian was happy because he seemed to sense that he would set free from the cat carrier soon. Knowing the Knighties and Nick I knew there wouldn't be anyone waiting for me. I went to information and sure enough there was an envelope waiting for me. Windy: I couldn't be here so Sandra made arrangements for a car and hotel room for you and Julian. I think you are at the same hotel as the Ravenettes so be careful. Here is a credit card if you need supplies for the war (only defensive!). Hope to meet you soon, Nick Knight *Well, I hope to meet your caddy, but I willing to meet you to.* I went to the rental desk and picked up the keys thinking how convenient this was since I'm not old enough to rent a car myself. Thanks Sandra! I hauled my bags and the carrier to the car and went to the hotel. Julian liked the hotel alot. He ran around a little and then we both went to sleep knowing tomorrow was going to be another big day (or should we say night?). A Tight Squeeze By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy staggered into the Raven, exhausted. She looked stunning in her new black leather minidress, but the bags under her eyes did not go well with the outfit. She was still a little upset that she did not get to go shopping with the others, but the little errand she just got back from was very important to Janette. As she sat down at the bar, Janette approached her. "How did it go? Did you leave my note?" "Yes, of course. It took awhile to find perfect matches for everything, but I was very thorough." Betsy paused, then gulped and continued, " But I took the first flight out, and the movie kept me up all night. I'd really like to get back to my room and get some sleep..." "You can sleep on your own time dear, I need you to go to the museum as soon as it opens, and..." Janette took a better look at Betsy, "Wait, your face looks terrible. Maybe you should lie down for awhile. I can't have my people looking puffy. Go to the museum in the afternoon. I'll send someone with you with instructions." As she watched Betsy shuffle out of her club, Janette reminded herself that her pets were only mortal, and had less stamina. They had to recharge. But she soon forgot about her own people's problems when she remembered what that traitor, Monica, would be in for soon. Later that morning at Cousin Monica's home. "What the...? These jeans don't fit anymore either! They just fit last week. I don't understand what could be wrong." Monica tried a few more pairs of pants before she looked at the tags. Every pair was two sizes smaller than they should be. She started to panic. "But these are my clothes, How could this have happened?" She looked at her blouses. All of them, too. Two sizes too small. She ripped through her closet and drawers. Everything. Even her shoes. Finally, in the pocket of a jacket whose sleeves only came down to her elbow, she found a note: Monica Darling, The incredible Ravenette fashion sense works the other way too. Once you are not one anymore, you just don't look good. Good luck finding your old clothes! Janette The Rescue By Sandra Gray Nick pulled the rental car up into a secluded parking space several streets away from Susan Garrett's apartment building. He was playing a hunch here. He just hoped it was the right hunch. He looked at the front of the building from a dark area across the street. He was about to cross the street when he noticed two people approach and enter the building. He recognized LaCroix's scriptwriter, the black vampiress Jennise, and...Lisa McDavid? The Cousin involvment was more proof of LaCroix's betrayal. Maybe he was there even now. He still wasn't sure what LaCroix's game was, but whatever it was, Susan Garrett was not going to be a pawn in it if he could help it. He started to cross the street. Then hesitated, as Jennise and another woman (not Lisa McDavid) exited the building. They appeared to be in a hurry as they left. After they had gone, Nick crossed the street and entered Susan's building. Outside Susan's door, he listened. He heard only two voices--women's voices, talking. One he recognized as Lisa McDavid; the other voice was that of Susan Garrett. He extended his hearing, but the only other sounds he caught were animal sounds. Lisa must have been left behind as a guard over Susan. Somehow he had to figure out a way to get Susan out of her apartment without Lisa knowing it was him. And before the others--and maybe LaCroix--came back. He left the building and headed around to the back. Seeing no one about, he flew up to the window and in seconds had it open. He had to stay levitated until he got in--there was a loaded bookcase and a dresser in front of the window. Once inside, he went over to the door to listen again. Still only the two of them. He looked around the room. There was an animal here--a dog. Getting an idea, he allowed the vampire in himself loose and growled at him in in a low tone. He got the reaction he expected: the dog began barking. He kept an ear tuned to the voices in the living room as he agitated the animal. "What's with Diego?" said Lisa. "He probably wants out. I'll go get him," said Susan. Nick moved behind the door, just in case Susan didn't come alone. The door opened and Susan walked into the room. Nick quickly closed the door and grabbed her, putting his hand over her mouth. "Relax, Ms. Garrett. I'm here to get you out of here," he whispered. He released her, then moved to lock the door from the inside. Then he turned to her and said, "Hurry. We'll leave by the window." "I'm not going--" started Susan. But Nick just put a hand over her mouth and flew with her out the window, knocking off several items on the dresser in the process. Susan made a muffled squeak. As he flew for the car, he said, "Listen to me. LaCroix deceived me. He didn't tell me about Dorian. Trust me and I won't let either of them get to you." There was no one on the street near his car. Nick flew down to the ground and set Susan on her feet. "Why should I believe you?" Susan sputtered at him. "Laurie said you were in league with LaCroix." "At first I was. But only to try to save you from the Enforcers LaCroix said were after you." Susan stood open mouthed, not sure what to believe. "Get in the car," he said, opening the door. When she just stood there, he decided to use his powers on her. "Get in the car and stay there." Susan was compelled to obey. Nick walked around to the driver's side of the car and got in. As they drove off, he glanced at Susan and said, "Sorry about that. We don't have time to argue right now." "Where are you taking me?" "Someplace safe," Nick replied. Then he started for the airport. The Rescue, Part II By Sandra Gray "Where?" Susan demanded. Nick glanced at Susan, then looked back to the road. He increased their speed. "If you're safe, does it matter?" "Yes, it matters!" said Susan. Then she shut her mouth abruptly. There was a brief moment of silence and Nick said, "What does LaCroix have to do with this?" "How should I know?" "His people were holding you prisoner. I recognized his scriptwriter and...Lisa McDavid." Susan gazed out the window and said nothing. "Weren't they?" "Yes! No! I don't know!" Nick shot her another quick look, confused. "That is, Karin and Jennise *were* Cousins, but they're working as Dorian's assistants now. But then Karin gave me the earrings LaCroix stole from Lucinda--" "Hold on! You need to start at the beginning. How long were you held in your apartment?" Susan explained in somewhat halting terms how she had returned to her apartment rather than endanger her friends and found Karin, Jennise, and Lisa there. How Sally had come with the clothes, how Karin had said she could keep Dorian off guard or disturbed by wearing Lucinda's earrings. "Wait a minute. Who's Lucinda?" Susan told him in brief terms. "Okay. So Dorian *does* want to interview you. Because of your fiction." "Well, I've got some...sources." "Like Janette?" "Yeah, but some others too." "Why didn't you go to Janette?" Susan looked out the window again. "I couldn't contact her," she said. Nick glanced over at Susan. She was sitting very stiffly against the window. "What time was the interview scheduled for and where?" Susan crossed her arms and said, "I don't know." Nick again looked briefly at her. He felt the lie, but decided not to press her about it right then. "Well, you don't have to worry about it now." Susan looked at Nick. "No? Look...Nick...I do appreciate what you're trying to do, but I don't see how I can avoid Dorian if he wants to interview me. Unless you intend to try to...destroy him or something." "There are other options," Nick said. He thought about Emily Weiss. He'd hypnotized her into giving up writing about vampires. If necessary, he could do the same to Susan to save her life. "Well, I did try to reach Ron the Enforcer to see if there were any loopholes in the Code that could get me out of it." Nick looked at her in some surprise. "Ron the Enforcer! You know him?" "Yeah, I do. I--haven't heard from him, though." She sighed and added, "I don't know. Maybe it would be better to just let him interview me--" "No!" said Nick vehemently. "It's too dangerous." An uncomfortable silence descended on the car. Susan looked out the window again and Nick felt her fear and worry. He peered out the window at the horizon. He realized there was no way he was going to make it to the airport before sunrise. He got off the highway at the next exit. "Where are we going?" asked Susan. "We're going to have to hole up in a motel until nightfall." Soon he spied a modest motel with a vacancy sign and pulled into the driveway. He registered them as Mr. and Mrs. Gordon, using hypnosis to make the clerk think he'd seen proper ID. He drove down to the parking spot in front of their room, then got out of the car and opened the door for Susan. "C'mon," he said. Susan just sat there. "Miss Garrett." She looked up at him and he exerted his powers again. "You can get out of the car now." Susan got out of the car and they went inside the room. And none too soon. The first rays of the sun were just beaming forth. Once inside the room, Nick tightly shut the russet drapes and locked the door. He hit the wall switch and an ugly orange lamp by the double beds came on. The carpet was orange too, the walls light blue. At least the drapes were thick. Nick pulled off his jacket and said, "I suggest you get some rest, Miss Garrett." He watched as she hesitantly took a seat on the far bed. "Don't worry. I'll keep watch," he added, smiling. She didn't smile back. He sat in a beige vinyl chair by the other bed. Eventually Susan laid down and fell asleep. But Nick stayed awake, wondering what he was going to do with her now. Fuming by Fed Ex By Sandra Gray I looked at the picture in shock, my heart rate quelling almost to non-existence. LaCroix? In a black nightie?! I shook my head slightly. I was glad Bruce was at work; at least I wouldn't have to explain *this.* I studied the picture a few minutes. Then I picked up the peignor. It WAS nice. Then I frowned. Was this some sort of Cousin dig? Had LaCroix told one or all of them about our private conversation in the last war? But, surely, even *he* wouldn't stoop this low...would he? I mean, to POSE like that while someone else took *pictures* of him? I looked at the picture again. I studied the background-- no clues there. I examined the package. No, someone else must have sent this. Ravenettes! It had to be them. They'd adready bothered me with a bogus COLLECT phone call from "Nick." But how could any of them have known that... I fumed. I packed the peignor and other items back in the box. Actually I wished I could keep it, but I knew what I had to do. I went over to the computer and looked up the address I needed and scribbled it down. Then I took out some note paper and wrote: Dear LaCroix, Although the peignor is attractive (the picture, too), I cannot accept your gift. You'll have to do better than that if you want me to become a Cousin. Sincerely, Knightie Sandra Gray After a few moments' thought, I added: P.S. Your "love letter" was also very badly written. And I won't be home tonight either. I put the note in the box and replaced the lid. I started to rewrap the package in its original UPS mail wrapping, but then I thought of something. I put the box and wrapper in a plastic bag and called a cab. Before long I was at King Photo. I took the picture of LaCroix out of the box and in a few minutes had made a copy of it. Maybe it would come in useful later. I put the copy in my purse and the original back in the box. I bought brown wrapping paper in the drug store down the street. Then I rewrapped the box--first in its original wrapping (as best as I could), then the new wrapping. A short while later I mailed the package by Fed Ex to LaCroix's apartment in Toronto. I had just enough time to get to the bus stop and home before Amanda got home from school at 3:30. I hoped LaCroix would not be pleased by the Ravenettes using his name and...form...in such a fashion. I hoped he'd try to trace the package's original mail wrapping to its' source. Mmmm, maybe I should have done that myself... No, he could do it. If LaCroix was anywhere near as angry as I had been...well, I pitied Janette and/or whichever of her minions had come up with such a scheme. It was only after I got back home that I began to wonder if I might also have made a BIG mistake. Goblin Checks In By Dionne Nelson TO: Janette@Raven.com FROM: Goblin009@aol.com SUBJECT: What have I missed? Hi, I'm back from the vets & then Grandma House (no visiting 3 yr. olds) I've caught up on my e-mail, but what do you have planned? Is it to late for me to at least listen in on the good gossip? I really wish I could sit at the end of the bar and watch. Have you seen Trill? He disappeared right after my accident. Goblin009@aol.com Cat, Ravenette Lost Kitten By Dionne Nelson TO: fkfic-l@psuvm.psu.edu FROM: DionneEN@aol.com SUBJECT: I'm Lost Is this going through? I'm not sure if I got the password right. Oh, I'm Trill, the Cousin Cat (I'm almost a Tom, just ask my people) Well, this is what's been happening to me. Thurs. night (20th) Goblin took me half way to the airport and vanished on the highway. I kept going like she said too, but I don't know where she is. I finally found the airport by my self, but the tickets where in her name so I had to pee on the rug before they put me in the box and on the plane. Only I was on the wrong plane! Toronto's cold right? I was someplace hot, and the trees only had branches on the top. I've been on a couple of planes since then. I think I'm on my way to Toronto now (talk to the stewardess longer Mr. Business Man, I'm not done with you laptop yet!) Can some one meet me at the airport? I want to talk to Uncle and my Cousins! Trill, using Dionne's account DionneEN@aol.com Peachy-keen By Jill Bradley Patrons of the luxury hotel were scandalized. The top floor of the hotel was noisy with the sounds of slamming doors and running feet. Giggles and raucous laughter were heard clearly. Downstairs, the hotel manager faced down yet another enraged guest. I am very sorry sir, but the occupants of that floor have, errr, diplomatic immunity. We regret this inconvenience to our other guests, however there is nothing we can do at present. Meanwhile, the guests in question had gathered in one room, all talking at once, reliving their previous night's adventures at the Raven. Angel called for attention. Did everyone bring their assigned items? The group began pulling out bags and boxes. Jill s voice rose above the general din. I think it will work best if we do an assembly line, don t you? She pushed her glasses up in a characteristic gesture and eyed the room with a calculating look. OK, let's get in a circle and just pass each piece along as we put on our part. With much joking and a few ribald comments, the Ravenettes gathered in a lopsided circle. Robert and Jeff each grabbed a bag and staggered over. What's in these things, rocks? Robert collapsed in laughter at his own wit. Jeff grinned and emptied the two bags onto the floor. The pieces of masonry were dusty and dirty, but at least the carpet muffled the crash. Moon reached behind her on the bed and brought down a box, from which emitted a strong odor. Ugh, nothing smells as bad as overripe fruit, she grimaced. Lori giggled. Just think how it will smell after being wrapped up tight for a few hours. I pity the delivery guys! Risha and Angel unpacked a bolt of pink material and began to cut it into squares. "Who got the glue?" Angel asked. There were a few seconds of silence, then, here it is, nevermind. OK, gang, let's do it. They all worked quickly and for a few moments it was quiet as each Ravenette contemplated the reaction of the Knighties. &%$^& this fur stuff, Risha finally exclaimed. It keeps clogging up the scissors. She bit her lip in exasperation, then jerked the scissors free. Angel glanced at her. I think that's enough, let me see...one, five, eight, ten, twelve. Yep, that's it. She and Risha stood up and stretched, wandering over to the bar while the others kept at their tasks. One by one, each of the other Ravenettes finished and stood up, grabbing now empty wineglasses. They stood there sipping, contemplating the sight on the floor. Like a flock of sheep, sat an even dozen pink, fur- covered bricks. Each brick had a small set of fangs attached to it and the smell of ripe peaches was almost overpowering. Moon snickered. Well, Knighties DO think Nick is a peach. The entire group collapsed on the floor writhing in laughter. As they sobered, each Ravenette took a fuzzy brick with fangs, packed it carefully and addressed it. Karen had volunteered to take them to the FedEx office since she another errand to run for Janette anyway. The bellboy was expressionless as he loaded the small packages onto a dolly. Karen grinned at his back as she followed him out of the room. See you all later at the Raven! The other Ravenettes murmured their goodbyes, some of them yawning as the events of the previous night began to catch up to them. *** Within three hours, packages were delivered personally to Dotti Rhodes, Sandra Gray, Pat Kong, Amy Denton, Tricia Lewis, Beth Singer, Ava Chan-Chowder, Camille Gerstel, and the Knighties known as GrimJim, Panthyr, Perri and Urchin. Each opened a package to find an extremely fuzzy brick with fangs...How the Ravenettes wished they could have arranged for cameras to capture those Kodak moments!! A Susan In Captivity By Susan Garrett and Karin Welss Susan opened her eyes, saw light blue walls, closed her eyes again-- Then sat bolt upright in bed. The covers fell back from her and she looked around wildly, succumbing to that customary moment of displacement consistent with food deprivation, mild story trauma, and having been abducted by a vampire cop. Nick was half out of his chair and she scuttled back against the headboard, then nearly fell from the bed and backed into the corner of the room still trying to remember exactly where she was and what had happened. "It's all right," said Nick, his tone quiet and reassuring, as if he were talking to a frightened child or pet. "You're safe here." "Safe?" She sat back down on the edge of the bed. "Yeah, you can say that, haven't been kidnapped twice in the same week." He returned to the chair and sighed in frustration. "You haven't been kidnapped. You're in danger. I'm only trying to protect--" "And I have at least two--no . . . make that vampires after me now. Karin and Jennise--no problem. They'll know this was all your fault." Folding her arms, she leaned back against the headboard and glared across the room. "But if LaCroix's after me--" "I can protect you from LaCroix." "You can't protect from LaCroix." Then she sighed when she spotted a glint of gold in his eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. But you're pissing me off, here. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I want to go home." "I'm sorry," Nick said, sympathetically, but without looking like he was inclined to fix the situation. He blinked, and decided to go for one out of three. "Can I call room service for you?" "In case you hadn't noticed, we're in a cheap motel in the middle of Jersey. They don't room service." "Oh." Nick looked at the backlit hotel drapes and sighed. "A restaurant is out of the question--" "How about pizza? They deliver--" Susan's words were punctuated by the sound of her stomach growling loudly. Nick looked relieved, and gave her one of his charming little-boy smiles. "Pizza. That's a good idea." The smile disappeared forty-five seconds later when Susan concluded her phone order "--and a double order of garlic bread, please." "Is that really necessary?" he asked, as she placed the receiver in the cradle. "Was it to sign us in as and Gordon?" Nick smiled. "I was thinking of your reputation." "Like the hotel operator in Toronto didn't do enough for my reputation?" When Nick stared at her blankly, Susan waved her hand dismissively and plopped back down on the bed. "Aw--skip it! It's bad enough I'm going to have half the Knighties on the list e-mailing me for details once word gets out that you took me to a cheap motel, booked us as Mr. and Mrs., and that you wouldn't let me leave the room long enough to get a pizza." "Miss Garrett--" "For Pete's sake, call me Susan." She sighed again. "I mean, you've hypnotized me what--twice by now? We should be on a first name basis. I mean, after this `yes, master, no master' business--" "That's enough." Nick rose to his feet, took a step toward her, then paused when he saw her swallow. "Whatever you think, I trying to protect you. I don't want to frighten you, but you're in danger." "From who? LaCroix? You? Dorian?" She reached out her hand and grabbed the edge of the blanket, smoothing it. "I think Dorian's the last thing I have to worry about." "You don't understand--" Nick sat down on the other bed across from her. "He wants to interview you." "So?" When she glanced up at him, Nick looked away. "You don't know what it's like to be interviewed." "Hey, I'm only thirty-three, how long can it last? Up to toilet training should take a minute, maybe two. After that--" Her voice stopped abruptly as he looked at her, then she nodded. "Yeah, I know what you're saying. And I know what's going to happen if I'm not there. He'll come looking for me. And he'll find me, with --" "I don't think Dorian will fault you if you're being held against your will. There must be something in the Code covering that." "And is there something in the Code about what happens to my kidnapper?" When he shrugged and looked away, Susan grabbed the edge of the blanket and crumpled it in her fist. "You're dead set against this, aren't you? Nick--what exactly happen in an Interview?" Nick gave her a blank stare. "You mean you don't know? But after what LaCroix said, after everything you've written--?" "If any of you guys ever bothered to what I've written, you might notice I skipped that part. Panned to waves crashing on the beach, that sort of thing," Susan answered, a little more sharply than she'd intended. "Oh." "Nick-- . I need to know." "It's against the Code...." Nick picked up the television remote and began fiddling with it. The TV crackled to life, and sped through a display of wrestling, a game show, a soap opera, something in Spanish, and back to the wrestling. "But I'll tell you a little about my Interview." Susan's breath caught for a moment. "I thought--I thought you weren't supposed to talk about that." "Dorian isn't. We can't talk about or witness someone else's interview. But as far as I know, we can talk about our own interviews, if we want to. It's just that . . . no one really wants to. I never have." His eyes were fixed to the television screen, obviously able to catch images that whirled by in a blur in Susan's sight. She'd always thought that crazy gluing the remote scan button was a predominantly male trait and was beginning to believe that generalization applied to all males-- mortal immortal. "But . . . you're willing to make an exception in my case?" Nick finally looked at her, a slight smile on his lips. "Your case seems to be the exception to just about everything." This was an opportunity to die for and Susan felt her heart speed up at the prospect of getting the scoop on this particularly story. "You know," she said slowly, as he turned his attention back to the television, "I'm not a Knightie, I'm not one of your followers." "I know." Still, she hesitated, glancing to the television and then away again--the blur of colors made her sick to her stomach. "Then why are you doing this? I mean, if it's that hard--" "Because you're in danger. You need help." Nick waved the remote absently. "Maybe if I hit the highlights, run through some of what know, I might be able to come up with some way to get you out of this." He seemed distracted, still concentrating on the television screen. Susan realized only then that he seemed to be working up the nerve to talk about his interview. Which didn't ease her own fears in the least. "You, uh, have some ideas on how to get me out of this?" Nick nodded, then regarded her thoughtfully. "A few." She didn't much like the look he gave her. "A few more couldn't hurt, then," she said softly, knowing that the more options Nick thought he had, the more likely she was to come out of all of this in one piece. "That's what I think." After a moment of silence, Nick clicked a button on the remote; the television screen went blank and then he tossed the remote onto the table between the two beds. "This stays between us, right?" Nodding her head in assent, Susan folded her legs beneath her, and found herself wishing fervently that she'd ordered some tea with the pizza. As she leaned forward to listen, she made a mental note to inform Sharon H. that her hypothesis was correct--channel surfing was definitely a chromosomally-linked trait. Reflections By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat in the back of the cab. She spent far too long getting ready, and the others had gone ahead to the Raven. As the cab sped through Toronto, she thought back on the accomplishments of the day, checking items off of her mental checklist. After solving the problem with Janette's credit cards, the Ravens and Ravenettes had split into small groups to take care of individual tasks. Angel had spent the rest of the afternoon sorting through the piles of stuff the group had collected. Early evening, she managed to find time for shopping. Janette gave her the name of the shop that created her fabulous cloaks. Angel was presently wrapped in a beautiful, warm cloak. She was warm for the first time since arriving in Toronto. And the long cape hid the skimpiness of the attire it covered. She felt much safer walking the city streets. As soon as she arrived at the Raven, Janette would expect a progress report. Angel thought about the things they needed to accomplish in the next few days. Time was running short. The Ravens and Ravenettes needed to meet and discuss the next day's agenda. They would need to scatter to the far ends of the city to retrieve the information Janette had asked for. Angel wondered if Cousin John had received his second gift yet. It seemed like a bit much, two gifts in one day. Unfortunately, she had sent it off before discussing the day's events with Karen. She giggled wildly as she imagined John's reaction. The taxi driver looked at her nervously in the rearview mirror. He was relieved when she stepped out of his cab at the entrance to the Raven *** Cousin John groaned when he saw the box that awaited him on his desk. He had finally recovered from the shock of Karen's gift. Then he returns from his break to find another package. What was going on? Was this another "gift" from the Ravenettes? Maybe it really was from Cousin Mike, as the label said. He really didn't want to look inside. After eyeing the package for several minutes, his curiosity got the best of him. He walked to his desk, and pulled the top of the box open. He flew backwards in shock as something flew out of the box at him. After a moment, he got up from behind the table and looked at the box. What *was* that? He approached the desk cautiously. The box contained a spring-loaded rubber mask of Uncle! John grimaced as he threw the smiling effigy in the trash. In the box was a purple rose, lying on a note. Dearest John, Thought you might get lonely in New Mexico, so I sent you a Lacroix-in-the-box to keep company. Blood and kisses, Angel A Meeting of Minds (Part 1 of 3) By Susan Garrett Angel was standing by the bar, looking slightly green-- although it might have been the lighting. Making a mental note to have Miklos light to place to flatter the mortals, Janette sidled up to her. "Are we ready, ?" Nodding, after a moment's pause, Angel indicated the various Ravens and Ravenettes that had assembled. "I think everyone's here." "Good. Bring them to me for a moment. I think they should have a . . . what would one call it . . . a `pep' talk?" When Angel looked at her oddly, Janette smiled. "That's what I'm supposed to do, isn't it? So, gather my troops." She waited, moving to the far end of the bar as Angel moved among the crowd, tapping this shoulder, touching that arm. It was only a word or two, sometimes a glance in her direction for confirmation. In response, Janette merely raised the glass Miklos placed beside her hand, letting them know that they were summoned. "Quite a large crowd," commented Miklos, as he dried a glass with a towel. "Do you think you can handle them?" Janette's smile was pained as she touched his cheek with the tip of her fingernail. "They're only mortals, after all. How difficult can it be?" "I've heard rumors." When Janette raised an eyebrow, he added, "In July--" The fire in her eyes told him that he was treading dangerous ground. He escaped to the other side of the bar. Janette might have chased him down, but her followers were gathering. Seating herself on a barstool, she took the cigarette Robert handed her, then allowed Jeff to light it. "Children," she said, after a pause and a puff, "this meeting will be very important to us. To all of us. So I'll ask you to stay on your best behavior. Be careful with Natalie's little `friends.' And be tolerant--she hasn't trained hers as well as I train mine and they believe they may do what they wish." Leaning her head back, she puffed on the cigarette again and blew smoke into the air. "Of course, you all know better." There was a slight stirring amongst them, but no murmurs of dissent. Good. She didn't want any ruffled feathers now. "What would you like us to do?" asked Betsy. "Be . . . gracious. Offer them drinks. Make them comfortable--they've had such a difficult journey. Probably coach fare, no?" She let the giggles and chuckles among her group subside, taking another drag from her cigarette. We need their assistance and their cooperation. Show them what I can offer. Let them see the gifts I've given you. If a few of her friends might consider my sponsorship more appealing . . . she'll let them go easily enough. She let's them make their own choices--silly woman." Tapping out her cigarette in an ashtray on the bar, Janette fixed her gaze on each of those assembled in turn. "But this is no membership drive. Tread carefully. We'll need Natalie and her friends as allies if we're to achieve our end. If of you starts any type of altercation, you'll answer to me. Do you understand?" "But what--?" Risha hesitated, looked at Karen, then cleared her throat when Janette settled her gaze on her. "What about revenge? For what they did to you the last time? I mean, I wasn't here, but I heard about it and . . . ." Janette stiffened, hearing Miklos' quiet chuckle from across the bar. She leaned forward and touched Risha's cheek lightly. "Darling, that's none of your concern, although it's nice of you to mention it." Releasing the frightened Ravenette, she sat up straight on the barstool. "There's to be no revenge. Perhaps later . . . if we've time. But I have a feeling we may be otherwise occupied." Janette's gaze moved to the front door--she could hear their heartbeats as they gathered, heard Natalie giving her group a little `pep' talk of her own outside the Raven. "They're here," she said softly, then looked over her brood again. They were an eclectic bunch, but they were well-dressed and perfectly groomed . . . and that's the way she liked them best. "Do your best, chicks," she told them, shooing them away with a wave of her hand. "Robert-- Jeff--attend me. And Angel--stay close." Taking Robert's hand--she there was a reason she'd tried to recruit more males this season--Janette slipped from the bar stool and took a few steps forward. It was time for a little `girl' talk. And she knew she'd enjoy the conversation immensely. A Meeting of Minds (Part 2 of 3) By Sharon Himmanen As they all piled out of Natalie's car and the taxi that had followed behind carrying several others Natalie surveyed her group of friends. On a whim, or because of some sense of pride, they had all actually made the attempt to fit into the scene at the Raven, although Natalie did decide that an afternoon spent clothes shopping with Sharon was something she didn't want to do for a long time to come. She didn't fool herself into thinking they could compete with Janette and her crowd, but she had to admit they all looked good. As they walked down the sidewalk toward the club entrance, Natalie stopped them, deciding that a last minute reminder as to what they were about wouldn't hurt, even though they'd spent most of the day planning what to do and say, planning how to act and deciding who it might be best to avoid. "Now remember," she said deliberately. "I *promised* Janette there'd be no repeats of what happened in July." Her gaze lingered on both Jennie and Tanaquil. "We can't afford to have this fall apart right now." She paused and smiled while Jennie and Tanaquil nodded their reassurances. "But," she said, turning and resuming her steps toward the Raven. "Be careful. And watch out for each other. They need *us*. And if we don't like what we hear, then we walk." It was still fairly early in the evening, but a bouncer stood in front of the door. He smiled sharply at them as they approached, then slowly moved aside, pushing the door inward with one large hand. "Ladies," he whispered, as the filed past him into the club. A Meeting of Minds (Part 3 or 3) By Susan Garrett She waited until they were inside the door, then slipped an arm around each of the young men's shoulders. "Do you see them, my pets?" asked Janette conspiratorially, as Natalie and her little group entered. Thankfully, they'd attempted to dress for the occasion--they hadn't succeeded, but they'd . She'd have to do something about Natalie's wardrobe when it came time. And wouldn't Nicola be surprised . . . ? But there were matters at hand--beneath her hands--to deal with. "Mingle, my lady-killers," said Janette proudly, eyeing each of the two young men in turn. "Figuratively, of course. Be attentive--their type always falls for that. Keep their glasses full and find their lives fascinating. Go, go, go!" With a light laugh, she slipped from between then and gave each a light push on the shoulder, sending them in the direction of Natalie's entourage. They were inexperienced, but they found their way easily enough; she smiled when she saw each one choose his victim, then move in to offer a seat, take a coat, get a drink. Yes, they had promise . . . . But Janette quickly turned toward the bar and snapped her fingers, gesturing over her shoulder. "That one--" she whispered. "Whatever she wants, give her the opposite. If she wants mixed, give her straight. Dry . . . she'll get sweet. She'll drink what I give her, not what she requests." Angel moved closer. "Isn't that Tanaquil?" "The ," hissed Janette with such rancor, that Angel moved back a step and even Miklos nearly dropped the glass he held in his hand. But he recovered immediately, as he always did. "I thought you said there'd be no--" "I'm allowed to change my mind, aren't I?" It didn't matter whether it was the tone of voice or the raised eyebrow--Miklos fell silent. Quickly grasping Angel's arm in a familiar grip, Janette moved forward. "Dr. Lambert--how kind of you to accept my invitation. And you brought your little friends. How . . . charming." Before Natalie could answer, Janette turned and started toward a table at the far end of the club, saying, "Won't you join me? Your friends can make themselves at home. Drinks are-- as they say--on the house." Angel was there four steps ahead of her and pulled out her chair, waiting. Janette gave her a gracious nod, seated herself, then pulled the chair in to the table. Angel stood to her left. When Janette put out her hand, Angel placed a cigarette in her fingers, then held out a lighter. Natalie made a face as she seated herself. "Do you have to smoke?" "It my club. But if it bothers you . . . ?" Janette tapped out the cigarette in the ashtray, then held up her empty hands. "You see? can make concessions." Two of Natalie's friends appeared to be joining them. "This is Sharon," said Natalie, by way of introduction. "And this is--" "Valerie." Janette managed a tight-lipped smile and she nodded toward the redhead. "Yes, I remember. Something about me not looking after my followers?" "What about looking after Susan?" asked Sharon quickly. "Laurie had to rescue her and she had to come to me for help because--" "Ah . . . they talk!" noted Janette. With a slight nod, she gestured Angel toward the bar. "Do they do tricks, as well? Your poison, Natalie? And . . . ladies?" Natalie's eyes narrowed, but she let the slight slide by. "I think Sharon will have a beer?" "Guinness," prompted Sharon. "And Val and I'll have a diet coke," decided Natalie, after glancing at the woman beside her. But after Angel had left, she leaned forward. "You've got ten minutes to cut to the chase. And then we walk. For some reason, you need me. You need . Tell us why we should help you." Instantly, Janette cast a regretful look at the cigarette in the ashtray--this was going to be more difficult than she'd thought. "I . . . want to throw a party." When she looked up, she saw Natalie staring at her in amazement. "What?" "I want to throw a party. No, hear me out," she said quickly, reaching across the table as Natalie rose, the others beginning to move their chairs. "There's danger--for all of us. We need to have a truce among all of the groups, even LaCroix's little maniacs. And to do that, I thought providing common ground might be best. Even LaCroix has the good taste not to interrupt a party for petty torture and riot." "What kind of danger?" asked Valerie. Janette eyed her, then looked away--that one would need to be watched. "Grave danger. I can't say anything more than that at present." When she saw the doubt in Natalie's eyes, she sighed and sat back in her chair. "What reason could I have for lying to you?" "I don't know," answered Natalie. "You tell me." She glanced at Sharon, then at Val. "Why not tell Nick and LaCroix?" "Because they wouldn't listen. Oh, I try to leave a message for LaCroix, but it slipped by him. He's dragged Nicola off on one of his little vendettas again. And you know what will happen if I try to get them in the same place at the same time." She gestured at Val and Sharon. " must know, after all, what it's like trying to get friends together. Someone isn't speaking to someone else, and someone is busy that night, and--" She threw up her hands. "Madness! No, that's why I need your help. If you're there, Nick will be there." Angel arrived with the drinks. She placed Janette's down first, then the beer, then the two diet sodas. Natalie removed the maraschino cherry from her soda--tossing in into Janette's ashtray. "I think you're overestimating--" "No. I'm not." Janette met Natalie's surprised look with an even glare. "Especially if he knows that Dorian will be present. Because if Dorian is there, and are there, Nicola will move heaven and earth to be there." She noticed that Natalie paled at the mention of Dorian's name and suddenly became interested in her diet soda. "Dorian is after Susan," said Sharon. "Or don't you remember?" "I remember perfectly well, thank you. I'd intended to use Susan's apartment for the party." With a wave, she indicated the club. "I've been to parties LaCroix and his little fiends have attended and I've no intention of seeing my club trashed. I've just redecorated, after all. Maybe in a few months, after I tire of the decor--" Sharon cleared her throat. "Uh, have you to Susan's apartment?" "No." Janette looked down her nose at Natalie's friend. "It in New Jersey, after all." "Small?" asked Natalie sympathetically. "Not really. But . . . too small for the kind of party you're talking about." Sharon picked up her beer and took a long drink, then set the bottle back on the table. " not big enough to hold Nick and LaCroix and you and Dorian." "You see," said Janette brightly. "This is why I need your help. That would have been a ghastly mistake on my part. And I don't like to make ghastly mistakes." She glanced at Val. "At least . . . not in print." "What about those pubs you were telling me about?" Natalie asked Sharon. "The ones in Greenwich Village? Where you got the yard of ale?" "Pubs?" Janette narrowed her eyes. "Tell me more." Sharon shrugged. "Well, they're owned by the same people and they carry a hundred beers from all over the world. They're about a block apart--three of them. "The Slaughtered Lamb," "The Jack the Ripper," and "The Jeckyll and Hyde." Val blinked. "They called a pub `The Jack the Ripper'?" Then, she smiled. "You know, that might not be a bad idea. Rent out all three for the night. You, Nick, and LaCroix would have your own home bases and you could mingle without feeling put out." "It an idea," said Janette, after a pause. "LaCroix would claim `The Slaughtered Lamb.' I should think `The Jeckyll and Hyde,' would suit Nicola perfectly, yes?" "And you could have `The Jack the Ripper,'" finished Val, with a sly smile. "I think you'd feel at home, there." Janette frowned and pointed at her. "Don't push me." "I think," said Natalie quickly, "that it's a great idea. But that still doesn't explain how you're going to get everyone there." Janette shrugged, carefully noting that Angel still hovered nearby, in case she was needed. She desperately wanted a cigarette, but . . . . "As I said, Nicola is no problem--he'll be there if he knows that you'll be there, without protection from Dorian. Your people will go because you ask them. My people will go because I'll tell them." Then, she sighed. "Unfortunately, Nicola and LaCroix have disrupted my plans. Now have some foolish idea that Susan poses a danger to us." Janette gestured toward Valerie and Sharon. "You don't have any difficulty with the things your friends write, do you? It's . . . nice to read about oneself every now and again. Makes us feel more . . . real, don't you think?" "A little," answered Natalie, after a pause. She nodded toward Val. "I don't have any problem with anything Val's written. And Sharon doesn't--" Janette laughed as Sharon began twisting her napkin into a thin rope. "I think your Sharon ." Sharon glared at her. "Susan told you." "No. But I know Susan. This writing thing with her--she people. And you're one of her friends." Janette smiled sympathetically. "It was only a matter of time." "You never said a word!" Natalie shook her head. "You going to let me read it?" Sharon paled suddenly. "I--uh--" Then she placed her hands around the beer bottle and looked at Janette squarely. "And that's beside the point. How were you planning to get the Knighties and the Cousins to the party? Not to mention the FoDs?" "Bait--just as Nick will follow Natalie, the Cousins will respond to torment. If we annoy them enough, LaCroix will have them follow my pets to their lair--which will be in New York." She smiled at Angel over her shoulder and said, "You're taking notes, I hope? And you'll the designers there." Valerie cleared her throat. "And the restaurants--the FoDs wouldn't have a chance!" "Precisely." Janette nodded toward her. "The Die-Hards are the only group who'll respond politely to an invitation, because they can't resist the attempt to play peacemaker. Our only problem is the Knighties--although they'll follow Nicola if he asks. It's only a matter of getting him to ask--?" "For which you need . . . me?" asked Natalie. Janette shrugged. "It would be to our mutual benefit. And you'd be helping me to save LaCroix and Nicola, despite their best efforts to the contrary." "And who's going to save Susan?" asked Sharon. "I don't know." Janette shrugged. "She may not even need saving--one never knows with LaCroix. I see his hand in this." Natalie frowned. "You'd give one of your people to LaCroix?" "One. Or all. Does it matter?" Janette smiled, and looked at Angel. "They're only mortals, after all." "But . . . so are we," said Valerie, her voice taut with anger. "Yes. So you are." Janette held out her hand toward Natalie. "Do we have a deal?" Sharon shook her head negatively, ever so slightly. Valerie was frowning. But Natalie only paused a moment before taking Janette's hand across the table. "All right--we'll help you with the party. But I want to be in on this `great danger' conference--none of this `only a mortal' crap." "If you wish." Janette picked up her glass and drained it in one long swallow, then handed it back to Angel. "There's only one more matter that concerns me at the moment--" Natalie glanced at her friends, then back at Janette. "Which is?" she asked suspiciously. "What we're going to find for you to wear." The Rescue-Enforcer Part By Ronni Katz Ron the Enforcer made it back to his apartment. The first thing he did before he even took off his coat was snap on the computer to get his messages. Everyone was convening in NYC for parties on Tuesday, the day after Halloween. Cool. "Maybe I can make Dorian forget the whole Interview thing if I can get a few Yards of Newcastle ale into him!" Ron thought to himself with a wicked grin as he removed his leather jacket and settled down in front of the keyboard. He got his mail and read the most recent posts. However, the most pressing thing on his mind was NOT Cousin John's silly pranks (funny though they were - DISCO at the Raven! What a panic!) but he was concerned about Susan G. He *knew* she was holed up in a motel not too far off with Nick guarding her (well, the brick with fangs does make a good guard dog) and no Kindred (with the RARE exception) ever ventured out during daylight, so Ron fetl confident Susan would be fine until sundown. Ron left an E-mail message for Dragutin about the parties in NYC (his Chantry in NYC had a computer with full NET access, even though Dragutin himself wasn't all that hip to it, and Ron could easily send his associate mail franked through the address of one of the other Mages in residence there). After making sure his friend knew what was up, Ron changed, showered and decided to crash out until sundown. But as soon as sundown hit, Ron was going to rendezvous with Nick and Susan and try to convince them both to stay at his place. Ron's apartment was small, in a safe part of town and easily defendable - all three were factors the Enforcer felt were essential. The Enforcer fell asleep feeling confident he would be able to accomplish his mission....... The Rescue, Part III By Sandra Gray "I'm hungry," said Susan. "And I want some tea." Nick looked at her from his position by the window. "It's dark now so we can go." He smiled slightly. "We'll stop somewhere for food." He walked over to the chair and picked up his jacket and slipped it on. "So we're checking out?" asked Susan, rising from the bed she'd slept in. "Yeah. C'mon," said Nick. He walked over and opened the door to the room--to see Ron the Enforcer standing there. Nick growled and bared his fangs. The other vampire shoved him back into the room and shut the door. Then he raised his hands and said, "I'm not here to fight. I'm here to help." Nick hesitated, but still took a fighting stance. "You don't stand a chance against me, Nick, and you know it," the Enforcer continued. "I have no reason to trust you," growled Nick. The Enforcer dropped his arms. "I know. I stole your body and used it for my own aims. But if you've got any memory of that time, you know I'm no friend of LaCroix." Nick suddenly got an image of himself sprouting long claws from his fingertips and slicing into LaCroix's abdomen with them. "I remember," he hissed. "I owe you for your help, even if it wasn't exactly consensual." "I don't recall asking for it." "What do you intend to do with Susan? Get one of your mortal friends to watch her when you can't? Think one of them can stand up to LaCroix...or Dorian?" Nick considered the situation. He had been thinking about what to do with Susan all day. He couldn't involve his followers in such a dangerous enterprise. Nor could he take her to Toronto. He looked at Susan. If he could get her to tell him about the interview... "Let me help," said the Enforcer. Nick turned his attention back to the Enforcer. "How?" he asked warily. "Both of you come with me to my apartment. It's well defended. The two of us together should be able to protect Susan and work on solving the problem of Dorian." A muffled grumble came from Susan, but Nick resisted the urge to look at her. If the Enforcer was telling the truth about wanting to help... He got no sense that Ron was lying, but for all he knew The Enforcer could mask his feelings and the truth. "Trust me," said the Enforcer. Nick considered, then said, "All right. Where's your apartment?" "Up and thataway." "*By car.*" "Oh, it's in New York about an hours' drive from here. Sure you'd rather not fly?" He smiled. Nick glanced at Susan. "I'd rather drive." The Enforcer shrugged and opened the door. Nick suppressed his vampire side and, taking Susan by the arm, walked out into the night. Jennise and Karin Return to New York By Jennise Hall and Karin Welss EXT. HIGHWAY - NIGHT Karin now drives as she and Jennise speed down the highway. Jennise studies the homing monitor. JENNISE They've stopped. KARIN Of course. The sun's coming up. Jennise looks up at the sky nervously. JENNISE Will we make it? Karin's foot presses the gas gage to the floor. KARIN Yup. INT. MOTEL ROOM - NEXT NIGHT The room is the same as Susan and Nick left it moments ago. The door slams inward. JENNISE Aw right Nick! KARIN They're gone. JENNISE I see that. KARIN (under her breath) Should have seen it before we got here. Jennise hisses at her friend. JENNISE We're in deep kimchee here. KARIN I know that. Jennise flops down on the bed. JENNISE You don't think Pops planned this, do you? KARIN Why would Uncle plan for us to completely screw up a simple assignment by looosing a mortal twice! JENNISE I thought you had her convinced. KARIN Well, it was your idea not to sleep at her apartment! If we'd been there...! Jennise's eyes suddenly go gold. JENNISE So this is my fault?! Karin's eyes flare just as suddenly. KARIN If the fangs fit...! They lunge at each other. Suddenly, both vampires crash to the floor grasping their heads. Each obviously in pain. INT. LACROIX'S PLACE - NIGHT LaCroix's eyes burn deep menacing red. LACROIX An end to this silliness. INT. MOTEL ROOM - NIGHT They writhe for long moments. Finally, they begin to relax as the pain subsides. JENNISE As if we're not in enough trouble with Dorian, you have to start a fight. KARIN Please. Shut up. I can't take that again. JENNISE Uh. What do you think the odds are that Nick will fly Susan to New York? KARIN No chance he's gonna leave the caddy behind. EXT. MOTEL - NIGHT Jennise and Karin help each other as they stumble out of the motel room. JENNISE Think maybe if we fly, we can save our jobs? KARIN Worth a shot. JENNISE Think Pops is gonna be p***ed? KARIN Probably. But I'm sure you can get us out of it. JENNISE Thanks for the vote of confidence. Side by side they launch themselves into the air. Confusion By Karen Knight Karen was worried. Things weren't right. The information she'd gathered... Karen walked into the meeting with her printouts. She sat down and tried to listen to what was going on but couldnUt concentrate. "Karen. Karen! Is something wrong? You're so distracted." "Angel, is it possible... Are there *others* who would want to destroy all of us? I mean every faction?" "What are you talking about?" "Well, you know I've had a little trouble from people who were upset with my War posts. I didn't put a colon or some such nonsense. Anyway, I thought it was harmless - a few rude people displaying their obvious lack of class and IQ, but..." "But what?" "I haven't been able to trace these posts. Every time I try, I get bumped from the system, and early this morning, the entire system shut down. Then there are my printouts - entire articles, the important pieces of them, are missing." Angel's eyes had been growing larger by the minute. "You said before that your e-mail had been tampered with and you thought it was a Cousin..." "I'm not so sure anymore - I heard that Cousin Caile's e- mail had been tampered with too. Now this one too!" Well, Isn't That Just Peachy By Sandra Gray I looked again at the box that had been delivered to me a short while ago. The smell of overripe peaches had at least informed me that it probably wasn't more lingerie. I had an idea what to expect due to the ribbing we admirers of Nick got on the list, but that didn't mean it still didn't make me mad when I saw the pink fur covered brick with fangs lying in the box. What I didn't understand was why the Ravenettes were attacking me. "Who was that at the door?" asked Bruce as he came out of the kitchen. Fortunately, Amanda was over at Christie's. I closed up the box. "Uh, it was nothing." "What's that smell? Smells like rotten fruit." He came into the living room. "Where'd the box come from? And why-- " As he got closer, he said, "Are there bad peaches in there?" "It's just someone's idea of a joke," I said. He opened the box and looked at the object inside. He hefted it and said, "What is it? A brick. With fangs?" He noticed the card in the box and picked it up as well. "From the Ravenettes?" He put the brick back in the box and looked at me. "Why are they targeting Knighties? Since I assume that's their opinion of Nick." "I don't know," I admitted. Bruce sat down and sighed. "I don't understand why that war stuff wasn't solved with the separate mail drops." "Neither do I." "This isn't the start of worse hostilities, I hope." I didn't say anything. "I wasn't thrilled that you got involved `organizing' the Knighties." I chewed my lip. "Somebody had to step in. Sharon didn't have time. Besides, it's not like we're running off to Toronto like last time." "I still don't like it much. LaCroix might have taken our tampering with his radio station well, but I'd just as soon we not push our luck where he's concerned." He paused, but I didn't say anything, glad again that he hadn't been here when I had gotten the nightwear gift. If he'd known what I'd done with it... "I thought Nick was trying to work for peace." I focused on Bruce again. "He is." "He must not be having much luck." He picked up the box again. "Oh well, at least this is harmless enough." He smiled. "Kind of funny." "Yeah," I said dryly. "Really funny." "Well, I've got to get to my church meeting. See ya later." He put on his jacket and left. I decided to log onto the computer, maybe send a query to the rest of the group as to what to do about these attacks on me. But what was this? As I read through the messages group memebers had sent me, it soon became apparent that everyone in the group must have gotten a similar "gift" from the Ravenettes (even though all of them had not emailed me yet). They'd launched an all out attack on us. But why? Damn them! I knew Nick didn't want us to attack anyone. But, by God, he sure as hell couldn't object to us *defending* ourselves. I send out email that it was time for a counterattack. Sending in a Spy By Sandra Gray "Hello?" said GrimJim. "Jim? It's Sandra. Is it safe to talk? Your phone line is secure?" "Yeah. What about yours?" "I don't have any expertise at that kind of stuff. I'm calling from a pay phone. Listen, can't talk long. We've learned that several of the Ravenettes have gone off to Toronto. I suspect they're going to the Raven to get war instructions from Janette. Since you're already there, how do you feel about doing a little spying?" "Sounds okay with me." "Does anyone in the Raven know you?" "No, don't think so." "Good. But just in case, it might be good to take along a little insurance." "What kind of insurance?" "Listening devices that you can leave in the Raven if you think you might be in danger of being found out. I'll leave the kind up to you." "Okay." "How much money will you need for them?" Jim thought a few moments and named a figure. "Okay. I'll wire you the money right away. As soon as you find out any definite plans that they have, get back in touch with me." "Sure thing." "Good luck, Jim. I'll be waiting to hear back from you. Bye." "Bye." I hung up the phone and then went off to wire Jim the money he needed. Nick Gets a Clue By Ronni Katz Ron *felt* Nick's arrival long before the detective hit the buzzer on the Enforcer's front door. He knew Susan was with him and could tell she was a little nervous. Ron wanted very much to have some fun with Nick and use his vampiric powers to open the door instead of doing it manually but decided against it. `I have all night to play with Nick's mind,' the Enforcer mused gleefully as he opened the door *manually*. He was still smiling like a cat with cream on its whiskers when he came face to face with Nick and Susan. "Come in," he invited the duo, both of whom looked in need of rest and a *real* meal. "This had better not be a set up," Nick warned as he scanned the apartment with his keen vampiric senses. "I'm alone here," Ron stated flatly. "Once you two are in, I can key the Wards." "Wards?" Susan queried, eyes widening slightly. "Yes. Dragutin placed some enchantments on my haven to keep the uninvited out. I was taught the workings needed to both activate and disarm them. And I have found the Wards work far better than an ADT system!" Susan caught the reference and smiled. Nick still was keeping Ron under a wary eye. The vampire detective did not trust his host one inch and The Enforcer *knew* it. "Look, Nick, if I wanted to hurt you, do you think you'd still be walking around right now?" Ron stated, his eyes glowing a menacing shade of red. "It s *Dorian* who is the enemy, not me. He's the one we need to defeat." "Do you always have to look at life like you are standing on a battlefield?" Nick asked. "I'm an Enforcer, Nicolas. A warrior. A *killer*," Ron told him point blank. "Or have you forgotten that?" "No, I haven't. Nor have I forgotten the things you did the last time we faced each other." Ron caught the reference but chose to ignore it. He changed the subject saying, "We have days to prepare. Your party is at the Jeckyll & Hyde, an AWESOME place - trust me. After the Interview, if all goes well, I'll treat you to a yard of Newcastle ale. That is, if you don't piss me off!" He glared at Nick. Nick glared back at him, eyes glowing red. "Susan's not going to any Interview." Then he said, "What party?" Ron grinned, his expression *human* again and he continued, "The Cousins will be at The Slaughtered Lamb. Your admirers, Natalie, and all the other mortal groups will be at the Jekyll & Hyde. Your darling Janette will have her group at the Jack The Ripper - a club named after someone my brother knows *too* well." Nick eyed Ron speculatively, hoping the Enforcer would reveal the identity of this nameless *brother*, but, much to his disappointment, Ron said only, "All courtesy of Janette. Even Dorian's been invited--to The Slaughtered Lamb." Nick looked at Susan. "Was your interview with Dorian scheduled to take place in The Slaughtered Lamb?" Susan looked at Nick, then Ron, then back at Nick. "Yes," she said. Nick looked at Ron. "That's obvious! It was probably set up just for the purpose of interviewing Susan." said Ron. "Then it's someplace we don't want to go." "What? If Susan doesn't show up for that interview, Dorian leaves!" "Susan's not going to be interviewed." "What are you gonna do--leave her behind? She's better off with us, under our protection--" "I won't allow her to be interviewed!" "Nick, I'm willing to help, but don't be stupid here." "She's not going!" "Geez, you *are* a brick with fangs!" Ron glared at Nick, who glared back. "Uh, guys, do you two think you can *not* argue?" Susan interjected gently. "I mean, if we all have to spend-- days here cooped up in this small apartment, then couldn't we at least *try* to be friends?" After a moment, Nick said, "When are these parties supposed to take place?" "Tuesday night, November 1st. And after my work is done," the Enforcer continued, "I'm going to the Lamb to catch up with my star student Cousin John and we're going to lift a few yards and enjoy ourselves." "LaCroix will be there," Nick stated. "He knows better than to screw around with an Enforcer, especially one who he *knows* is as old and touch as he is!" "Guys!" said Susan. Ron and Nick exchanged a look before returning their gazes to Susan. Both men knew she was right--that they shouldn't fight. Nick didn't want to tangle with the Enforcer but he was still angry with Ron for what happened last summer. The Enforcer used him and Natalie as a means to get revenge upon LaCroix and had preyed upon Nick'weakness (his desire for humanity) in order to do this. Nick knew why he had been used and could live with that but the fact that the Enforcer had taken advantage of Natalie and had deceived his other friends was the reason why Nick could *not* find it in his heart to trust the Enforcer now. Ron knew what Nick was thinking but kept quiet. Nick would be at his throat if he knew the Enforcer was scanning him mentally. Ron was *very* thankful his Sire had taught him how to use *all* his vampiric gifts. One doesn't live for over two millenia unless one is well schooled in the ways of one's Immortal Blood. The Enforcer knew Nick didn't trust him but he could live with that. `&*%$ it,' Ron thought to himself as he went into the kitchen to get himself a *drink*. The ball's in Knight's court. He can pass it or fumble..... Nick Makes Some Calls By Sandra Gray Nick had listened to Ron the Enforcer's briefing. He wasn't sure what to think of it--or Ron, for that matter. He still wasn't sure if the Enforcer could be trusted and until he was, he intended to keep a watchful eye on Susan Garrett, who sat restlessly on the couch. He was glad that he'd had the foresight to "convince" Captain Cohen to give him two weeks off from work. At least no one would be expecting him there and LaCroix wouldn't be able to find him either. But he still wasn't sure what to do about Susan. Should he take her to the party--trust the Enforcer to help guard her while he dealt with Dorian? Dorian was going to be at LaCroix's party--was it more evidence that LaCroix was playing a big part in this interview business? He wished he knew. Then suddenly he thought of something. "Can I use the phone?" "Go ahead," said the Enforcer. Nick dialed his home phone for messages. There were a couple from Sandra Gray that said she had important news and one from Natalie just asking to talk to him. He decided he should call Sandra and see what she had to tell him. Maybe it was something useful. The phone rang a few times and then her voice said, "Hello?" "Sandra? It's Nick." "Nick! I've been trying to reach you. Schanke told me you had taken time off." "To look for Susan Garrett. What did you want to tell me that was important?" "Janette's planning parties for you, LaCroix, and her at three pubs in New York." "I know." "You do? Did Natalie tell you?" "No. Ron the Enforcer did." Sandra hesitated, then said, "Oh. Well, did you also know that Dorian is supposed to be at the parties? That must mean Susan is meant to be taken there." "Susan's safe with me. I don't intend to let her be interviewed by Dorian." "She is! Well, I'm glad to hear it! She's there with you in Toronto?" "We're in New York, at the Enforcer's apartment." Sandra hesitated, then said, "Is he--well, okay to be around? Being an Enforcer." Nick glanced around, but Ron had gone into another room apparently. "I think so. But I'll be careful." "So what about the interview? You're going to do something to prevent it." "I'm going to do my best." "Are you planning to confront Dorian at the party?" "At least I could find him there easily." "Well, listen, I can get the group together to help." "No, that's okay." "Nick, please. We can at least distract the other group's mortal followers, or watch Susan--" "No. No mortal watches Susan." "Okay. But you should have some support at the party if you're going to attend it." "You're going to come regardless of what I say, aren't you?" "Yeah." Nick sighed. Then he said, "All right. If you have to be here, do whatever you want to get yourself--and whatever others--here. I just hope you'll keep out of trouble." "We'll try. Thanks Nick." When he didn't reply, she said, "We'll--see you at the party then, but if you need our help sooner, call me." "Yeah," Nick said, a bit uncomfortably. "I have to go now." "Where can I reach you if I need to?" Nick gave her the phone number. Then they said their goodbyes and he hung up the phone. He frowned. It was looking more and more like he was going to have to attend that party, if only to make sure his followers came to no harm. Or Natalie... A State of Siege By Susan Garrett Susan was amused. She sat on the couch wearing Ron's bathrobe, hair still wet from her shower, and glared across the room at Nick, who seemed to be checking Ron's apartment windows for the tenth time. "I want to go ." Nick glanced over at her, still wearing that patient yet amused expression that was really starting to irritate her. "You'll be safer here." "I don't want to here." Folding her arms, she continued to glare at him. "And I'm staying." Ron was across the room in a blur. His hands leaning on the back of the couch, he said, "I wouldn't advise trying to escape. You wouldn't get far." His speed startled her, as well as the slightest amount of threat in his posture. But she glanced over her shoulder and up at him, trying to keep her voice steady. "I wouldn't to. During the day, anyway." Susan smiled politely up at Ron. "Even with all the voodoo advantages you have on Nick, you have your limitations. It's just a matter of finding them. Not that I ," she amended quickly, when she saw the slightest bit of gold in Ron's gaze. "If--" "If?" asked Nick, sitting down across from her. Susan adjusted the bathrobe slightly. "I want a laptop." "Maybe I didn't make myself clear," said Nick. "We're going to have to keep you here for a few days. Which means no outside communication. A laptop is--" "You can keep the modem," explained Susan patiently. "I just need the word processor." "Planning on sending out notes in bottles?" asked Ron, suddenly interested. Handling Nick alone had been enough of a problem, but being double-teamed by two vampires who'd decided they knew what was best for her--all the while arguing with one another and without consulting her, of course--was something Susan wasn't prepared to deal with. "I'm bored," she told him, looking over the couch. "Yes, your movie collection is great, I'm just not into action films--" "I've got some horror," offered Ron quickly, moving to the cabinet where he kept his laser discs. "How about `Psycho'?" "If you don't let me finish a sentence, I'm going to turn into one." Susan looked back at Nick, who seemed rather pleased at her dismissal of Ron's ideas on entertainment. "I have no clothes, no money . . . not to mention the fact that I'll probably get fired for not showing up at work, not that it's any great loss. The least you can do is front me a laptop so that I can get some writing done." "Isn't that why you're in this trouble now?" asked Nick. "Oh, for God's sake, it's not like I'm going to trash your Caddy or anything. Well . . . not much," she admitted, after which he raised an eyebrow in surprise. "It keeps me amused. Since you're going to hold me prisoner--all right, keep me in protective custody," she amended quickly, as Nick began to protest, "I'll make a deal with you. Just make sure I have plenty of tea, a laptop, some clean clothes-- sweats'll be fine--feed me a couple of times a day, and . . . I won't try to run out on you." She looked over her shoulder at Ron. "Either one of you." "That's all?" asked Nick suspiciously. He sank back against the chair pillows, still watching her. "We'll take shifts," decided Ron, also turning his gaze on me. "But I say--why the hell not? Be safer for her. And safer for us, short of--Nick, did you bring your handcuffs?" Susan stiffened at that suggestion and looked up at Ron in near panic, then relaxed, annoyed and more than a little angry, when she saw he was teasing. Nick seemed just as annoyed, but also slightly puzzled. "I don't think Miss Garrett--Susan," he corrected, when she frowned, "would harm us." "You mean, you don't think she harm us." Ron chuckled. I grew very still as he added, "And you think arrogant? I've seen some of her fiction. She knows enough to hurt us, if she wanted to. Not that she'd get the chance--" There was that attitude of warning again. It was tough to give as good as she was getting, considering that she was wearing a bathrobe and trying to out-macho two vampires, but she gave it a shot. "Cut me some slack, here. I'm not asking for the world--just a lousy laptop and some tea. I assume you know food and clothes are a necessity and covered by the Geneva Convention." When Ron made a noise, she glanced up at him with wide eyes. "We in war-time, after all." "Hey, war-time I understand. As far as the Geneva Convention goes, I think the bathrobe covers it," said Ron easily, grinning slightly as he seated himself on the arm of the couch, on the side furthest away from her. "Well, of it. And we don't have to worry about you getting far in a bathrobe." Susan swallowed, trying to decide whether she should be angry, annoyed, or afraid. And just when she'd pretty much settled on a combination of the three, Nick rose to his feet quickly, giving Susan a reassuring nod as he passed by her. "Back off." Nick moved to stand beside Ron. "We're preapring for a state of siege. Like you said--there's no harm in giving her what she wants, makes it easier on us, right?" "Right . . . ," answered Ron, eyeing Nick suspiciously, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. "Let me guess-- I've been voted cash-and-carry boy of the year?" "It's your turf," said Nick, backing up a step and shrugging slightly. "You know the local places, what's open. If money's a problem--" "Money is the problem. And this city never sleeps." Ron glanced down at Susan, then back at Nick. "If you think you can handle her by yourself-- I'll set the outer wards after I leave, just in case." "Whatever." Nick turned his back toward Ron. "Just get something . . . appropriate." "Lap-top or clothing?" asked Ron. He eyed Susan speculatively. "I'd say black or gray sweats and a 120 meg hard drive, eight meg of RAM." "Don't forget Windows and Word," warned Susan quickly. "I don't have my disks here, remember? Black Currant tea would be nice, with a bottle of honey and a tea kettle if you don't have one--I don't do microwaved water." "Can do. I'll pick up a bottle, too. Amaretto, wasn't it?" Ron's smile turned into a grin after Susan nodded hesitantly. "For the main course?" Nick cleared his throat. "I think Chinese take-out will do for tonight. Is that all right?" "Lo-mein or tangerine beef--easy on the hot stuff," cautioned Susan. "Szechuan, if you can find it." "Easily said, easily done." Ron frowned slightly, then looked at Nick again. "This may take me a while, but like I said--those wards are pretty much set for anything, from outright assault, to psi search, to most transmitter frequencies. You should be secure enough here. You get into trouble, just yell." "I don't think there'll be a problem," said Nick evenly, as he turned back toward the windows. "Yeah. Well . . . yell anyway." Susan watched Ron leave, even thought she saw the doorway shimmer slightly as he passed through it, before it closed behind him. It was oddly disturbing. She nearly started when she turned her head and found Nick standing beside her. "Geez--don't move so fast!" "Sorry." He moved away, back toward the windows again. Now that Ron was gone he seemed more at ease . . . and also more alert, looking over the doors and windows with a practiced eye. Susan watched him for a few seconds. "I--uh--appreciate the suggestion. About the Chinese food?" "I didn't want a repeat of that garlic bread spitball incident." "I said I was sorry, but you tick me off." Susan tried to look apologetic. "I promised not to do it again." Nick shook his head slightly, glancing at her briefly before moving past her and back to the door again. "Much as I hate to admit it, he may be right--you know enough to hurt us." "Well, who told you to take your shoes off? God knows what you could have picked up from that motel room carpet-- yech! Besides," she shrugged, her wet hair scattering water droplets as she moved, "I forgot you liked to walk around in bare feet." Nick had been squatting down beside the door, watching the wood frame seem to warp slightly when he placed his hand near it, but looked back at her comment, suspicious. "You know that?" When she nodded, he rose to his feet, his attention still on the door frame. "I think you'll be safe enough here." "If you say so." Reaching behind her, she grabbed a handful of her wet hair and carefully wrung it out, tired of the water dripping down her back. "I suppose I should thank you." "I trying to help," he said, in a very careful tone of voice. Susan frowned and concentrated on her wringing out her hair, pulling the length of it over her shoulder and twisting it over the towel she'd brought with her from her shower. Much as she hated the idea of having been kidnapped for her own protection, she understood very well why Nick had done what he'd done. "I know." "Then work with me on this." Nick walked to her other side and sat down on the cushion next to her. She looked up, breath catching in her throat at his tone of voice. "You've thought of a way out for me?" "Maybe." Nick hesitated a moment. "There are some . . . things I have to work out. I might need your help. Will you trust me to do what I think is right, what I think might save your life?" Susan hesitated, suddenly fixed by that all-too earnest gaze. There were times she'd considered Nick arrogant, or selfish, or even downright thick, but she'd always known his heart was in the right place. He tried to do the best he could. Sometimes it didn't work out so well, but he try. "Yes," she answered, after a moment's pause. "I'll trust you." And even though Nick smiled and squeezed her hand reassuringly, Susan was filled with a sudden sense of dread. Boy Talk By Ronni Katz Nick glanced back at the Enforcer's office and listened. No one but a *vampire* could have heard the faint sounds of Susan's typing and he *sensed* she was quite content...for the moment. She had her stories to keep her from getting bored. Nick was at a loss at what he could do to keep himself amused. Oh, sure, the Enforcer has a great collection of Cds - Nine Inch Nails, Sisters of Mercy, Skinny Puppy, Rosetta Stone - bands loved by many members of The Community but not exactly his cup of tea. Ron also had more action films on laserdisk than Blockbuster Video - also not exactly his favorite fare. Surfing the Internet was also out - The Enforcer was not letting anyone but himself get on the NET for security reasons and Nick was beginning to get just a little annoyed with Ron and his particular brand of security . He saw the Enforcer sitting at the dining room table bent over his subnotebook and was obviously hooked into America On-Line. "What are you doing?" Nick asked. "Seeing what everyone else is doing. Can t plan our next move until we see what our opposition has in mind." "Anything from Dorian?" "Nope. But his assistants are sure to get canned for losing Susan TWO times!" Ron replied grinning. "Hey, makes our job easier. Less opponents to beat down." "You STILL think we have a fight coming?" Ron looked at Nick, his eyes glowing gold. "Let's hope so." "You WANT trouble?" Nick challenged. "Why?" "Revenge." "For what?" "I don't intend to KILL Dorian, just make him feel as much pain as I did when I refused to be Interviewed." Nick's eyes widened. "You....refused?" "You think LaCroix is the only one who ever said no and lived?" Ron stated. "Boy, Susan WAS right about you! Only one clue and you re hanging onto it for dear life!" Nick was stunned. It was hard for The Enforcer to tell if it was from what he revealed about his own run in with Dorian or because of the line of Susan's he repeated. The Enforcer continued, "Look, this is like what happened in Toronto between me and LaCroix. It's personal. And I don't intend to do anything until AFTER Susan's Interview is over. I won't endanger her. This is just between me and the Archivist." "No, you intend to use Susan as a means to get to Dorian," Nick stated his own blue eyes going gold in anger. "Just like you used me to get to LaCroix!" "And, if that was true - which it isn t - there wouldn t be anything you could do to stop me." "Don't bet on it." Ron stood up to face Nick. Although the Enforcer was four inches shorter and about thirty pounds lighter than Nick, he knew he could take on Nick and win. Beating some sense into Nick was one thing - hurting him was another. Ron didn t want to hurt Nick - Susan would be MAJORLY pissed and, besides, Lavinia, the Ancient Ron was bound to, made The Enforcer swear that he would not kill (or do permanent injury to) Nick Knight. And, as annoyed as Ron was by these instructions, he could not disobey them, no matter HOW much he wanted to! "Nick, a clue for you. My fangs *are* bigger than yours, okay? So, go watch Jeopardy or something and leave me alone. I m trying REALLY HARD to behave myself. I promised my boss I wouldn t kill you, so don't piss me off and make me break my promise. All right?" "It was YOUR idea for us to come here." "Because it was the safest place for SUSAN, Ron said pointedly. You ve been a borderline pain in the ass since you got here! You don t like my movies, my music, my F*&king food! Not only that, but when I came back the other night with the Chinese food for Susan, you were looking at me like I was some sort of criminal! What the F*&k did I do? What is your problem?" "You were gone too long," Nick replied evenly. "I've seen how fast you move. It should not have taken you an hour to get takeout from a place four blocks away." "Yeah, well..." Ron shrugged chuckling softly to himself. His eyes were glittering with mischief as he replied, "Chinese sounded good so I decided to have some, too." Nick *knew* what he meant and in an eyeblink had Ron by the collar. "You bastard." "You *wimp*!" Nick's eyes went from gold to red and Ron's were equally crimson. When their gazes met, Nick was suddenly filled with an overwhelming *hunger* . He hadn't fed much - the leftover pig's blood was only enough for a day or so - and, although he hadn't been all that *hungry* - he had felt a twinge of appetite. However, *now* he was almost in a blood frenzy and the only food source he *sensed* - other than the vampyre in his grasp - was in the other room at the computer. Nick needed to feed *desperately*. He let go of The Enforcer and started to stagger towards the office.... Suddenly the *Hunger* was gone. All of it. Nick felt as though he had eaten and eated *well*. He was in control again. Nick whirled around to see The Enforcer looking quite *human* as he stood there quietly by the computer. "What was *that*?" Nick demanded. "A little trick Dragutin taught me. The Beast can be tamed, but not domesticated," Ron replied with a slight smile. "I know how to call upon it and how to make it sleep. Yours is resting now, Nick. But I can wake it up *anytime*. And, as you can see, you will be helpless once it is in control." "And I thought LaCroix was a fiend." "My dear brother is a *vampire*. As am I . As are *you*, much as you like to deny it. But, I won t do that to you again. It was just a....demonstration of my abilites and an incentive for you to see why we should be allies instead of opponents." "We are allies...for now," Nick said not letting down his guard for an instant. "But after this War is over...." "So is our truce," Ron finished for him. The Enforcer returned to his computer and Nick, not really wanting to be around Ron any more than he had to, went back into the living room to see what was on TV.... Passionate Interlude By Sandra Gray Nick leaned against the door of the Enforcer's home office and watched Susan typing rapidly on the computer. She paused and he said, "Writing is a passion for you, isn't it?" Susan was briefly startled, then said, "It's more than that. It's a compulsion, a...necessity." She paused, then added, "You must understand. You paint." Nick stepped into the room. "I paint for other reasons. To deal with..." He looked away from her. "Demons," he finished. Susan eyed him thoughtfully, saying nothing. He looked back at her and smiled slightly. "What are you working on?" "A vampire story," Susan replied. Nick frowned. "Oh, don't worry. It's not about what you told me in the motel. It's something else." Nick sighed. "It's that sort of fiction that's gotten you into trouble with Dorian in the first place." Susan looked at the computer screen. "Well, I don't see how I can get into any *more* trouble *now.*" Nick could feel her distress. He walked over and, squatting beside the chair, laid his hands over hers. "I won't let you come to harm. Neither will...Ron." Then, swallowing, he released her and left the room. After a few moments, Susan began typing again. Nick walked into the living room. Ron, seated on the couch, looked at him and said, "Nick, you sure you don't want something to drink?" "No, I'm fine," Nick replied absently. Ron probed the other vampire gently and briefly. It wasn't bloodlust that was concerning Nick. Well, maybe a bit on the fringes...but he had it in control. "What's she doing?" Nick looked at Ron. "Working on a vampire story." Ron sighed. Then he said, "Oh, well. At least it keeps her out of our hair, huh?" Nick didn't reply. "Don't sweat it, Nick. We can handle Dorian." "I'd like to avoid a battle with him." Ron got up and came to stand beside Nick, saying in a low voice, "Look, we've agreed that Susan has to stand for the Interview. When Dorian's off balance, that's when we eliminate him." "And someone else takes his place and goes after her," Nick said in a similar low tone. "Besides, the whole history of our kind is in Dorian's mind. Do you really want all of that to be lost?" "What other option do we have?" Nick didn't reply. He seemed lost in thought. Ron probed his mind carefully. He was remembering a conversation with a woman named Emily--something about why she wrote vampire stories. Then his thoughts drifted to embracing and kissing the woman. Ron was disappointed, but not surprised when Nick pulled away from "Emily" rather than give in to his desire to... Sighing, he stopped his probing and walked into the kitchen for a drink. Raven-ings By Jill Bradley As the Nat-pack entered the Raven, Jill regarded them over the rim of her glass. She was not about to disobey Janette and start any trouble, but wondered how far she would be able to push them. Jill sneered to herself. Nice was soooo booooring! This could be awfully entertaining. Catching Miklos' eye, she pointed to her now-empty glass. He refilled it without comment, and Jill shivered inside at his cold stare. She would like to try to warm him up, but unfortunately, that would not happen this visit. Janette would not appreciate one of her flock encouraging the bartender to take a forbidden sip or two. Idly, Jill wondered whether Janette was ever gone from the Raven for an extended period of time. Angel came over to help with introductions. As Tanaquil was introduced, a slight smile came over Jill's face. I remember you, she said politely. You worked here yourself, didn't you? She ignored Angel's elbow in her side. Behave! Angel hissed, then returned to Janette's side. Jill searched the room with her eyes, looking for a Ravenette who might join in some mild Nat-baiting. Shrugging, she wandered past the table where Natalie and Janette were apparently negotiating. After cautious evesdropping, Jill lit a cigarette and purposely leaned in to blow smoke towards Natalie. At Janette's glare, she backed away and tried to look invisible. Oh well, apparently Janette was serious about this cooperation stuff. Heading back to the bar, Jill began to consider Miklos again. Raven-ing Hordes By Jennie Hayes and Tara O'Shea Jennie smoothed the skirt of her converted bridesmaid's dress absently with one hand as she paused inside the Raven to let her eyes adjust to the light. As her eyes met Janette's she gravely nodded once, then stepped into a patch of shadow. Not that she felt safe from Janette's regard there either. It was amazing how bright the royal blue of her dress seemed just now, but Janette's attention snapped almost immediately away from her, to Tanaquil who'd entered behind her. The vampire turned to say something to the bartender. "At least the guy at the door called us `ladies'," Jennie gave Tanaquil a wry grin. Janette and Natalie appeared to be heading off for a more or less private conference, so Jennie ordered a Coke and looked around the bar. She spotted a familiar face and headed off toward that table. LJC was fingering her black crepe skirt, checking to make sure her hem hadn't gotten caught on her three and a half inch heels. The wine coloured long sleeved crepe blouse wasn't quite as fancy as Janette would have liked, in fact the whole outfit was downright plain compared to the other ravens, but LJ preferred simplicity, and she had been mostly ignored thus far, in any case. When she saw one of the NatPackers heading towards her, it took her a moment to recognise Jennie, but she smiled, far more genuinely than Janette would have liked. Amy had described Jennie well. Luckily, the Raven's proprietress was looking elsewhere at that moment. "Hi, Mom!" Jennie grinned. "I know it's war, but we're supposed to play nice for now - it's Jennie. Oh, the Chicago one, not the one who posts to L&C fairly often. Before you ask, I recognized you from the pictures a mutual acquaintance keeps showing me." "Hey, kid. Amy's told me so much about you, I feel like we've already met." LJC smiled. "I suppose I can't really call you kid, now can I?" "Only if you don't mind yet another person who's older than you calling you `Mom.' You're never gonna get rid of that name!" "Mindy's the one who started the Social Director of the Internet thing, how can I mind?" LJC pulled out a chair, and Jennie settled down across from her. "Anyhow, I thought it was safer to come talk to you than to sit there trying to stifle the urge to go investigate the back room." "I've been tempted myself, and even if I am one of the original Ravens, that wouldn't keep me from getting munched by one of the bouncers." Tara smiled wryly. "Around here, you're either considered a pet, or meat. I prefer the former to the latter, truth be told." "Well, I'm not suicidal, just curious. Professional hazard, I think!" Jennie laughed. "Can I get you anything in the way of a drink? Maybe something a little more sporting than a soft drink, perhaps?" LJC remembered Angel and Janette's instructions to make the NatPackers feel at home, and this was no real problem at all. It was going on the club's tab anyway. She waved Alma over. "Vodka and cranberry juice for me." Alma, reduced to vampire waitress, glowered at LJ, who ignored her. "Oh, I think a white russian would hit the spot." Alma glared some more, then flounced over to the bar. "She's just loving all this, isn't she?" Jennie watched Alma, her eyes betraying supressed mirth. "Poor Alma, reduced to serving mortals drinks. She may never get over the irony." LJC smiled. "So, are you liking our little war so far?" "Mm-hmm. The adrenalin rush is better than watching the X- Files alone in the dark!" "Oh?" "Well, I stole Janette's wardrobe last war and gave it to Nick to hold on to. I had *no* idea he would hang it in his garage! Anyhow, I wasn't sure I should show my face here after that, but...here I am." "Oh my..." LJ's eyes grew wide, and she laughed despite her affiliation. "No wonder clothes have become such an important subject this time around. I didn't bring much except my airplane clothes, and this. My suitcases are quite bare, nice Raven I make." LJ stirred her drink absently with the straw, her eyes wandering about the club. "I must admit, this meeting is going better than I thought it would, really." "Do you know what it's all about?" Jennie leaned forward, a conspiratory note in her voice. "I don't know that much about what's going on this time `round, I only just heard about Susan's problem and before today I hadn't heard of Dorian." "I'm being kept in the dark, I'm afraid. Just following orders, and waiting. Truth be told, it's a real bitch." Tara frowned, but then shrugged, fishing a cig out of her purse. "Feeling like a mushroom?" "I'm starting to," Tara sighed, and they clinked glasses. A Party Crasher By Windy L. Treese It was early evening in toronto when windy (me) started dressing for the big meeting at the raven. She had heard rumors of a big surprise and couldn't wait to find out what it was. She also knew that at the raven she would meet others of her faction. She had only known them from the lists but now she would actually get to meet them. As she left her room in the hotel she knew she was looking her best, her outfit perfect for both covert action and a night of clubbing, fashion and functionality (think I made it up) at once. Of course it was black. She apologized to Julian telling him she had to go out but she would tell Betsy that he was in toronto and waiting for her. Julian understood that windy had to go because, afterall, he was a good knightie and a beautiful cat. Windy got in the elevator and went to the garage to the car rented for her. As she walked to the driver's side she couldn't help but notice the large trunk on the car. *just in case* Windy knew she should wait for Perri and any other knighties in the hotel but she couldn't wait and she knew most of them would be there already anyway. After parking the car and walking into the raven the first person that Windy saw was her room-mate betsy. She walked over and asked, "so what's the surprize?" "Party! Janette and Natalie are going to arrange for all the factions to have a series of parties in New York at three different pubs. each vampire gets their own. Nick of course gets the Jeckyll and Hyde being that the blond brick was closed for renovation." And like the good spy that she was, Windy went and called Sandra and fed her the information and then went back to the bar and joined her fellow Ravenettes, relieved that her mission was finally over. Knocking About the Raven By Elizabeth L. Bales Elizabeth sighed quietly and leaned one elbow on the table. Looking around, she had to admit that Janette's new decor was... interesting. A giggle caught her attention, and she looked over to where one of Janette's pet pretty- boys was chatting up another NatPacker. She frowned, trying to remember the woman's name, and failed utterly. *Oh well.... I've always been terrible at that. Wonder if there's anything useful I could do?* "Excuse me," said a voice at her elbow. She turned to look up -- and gulped. *Wow, what a fox! But he's a Raven, probably trying to win over a NatPacker or two. That'd be Janette all over. Besides, you have an adorable boyfriend waiting at home....* "Yes?" Elizabeth was a bit startled herself at the degree of frostiness she managed to instill in her voice. The Raven slid into a chair next to her. "I wondered if I could buy you a drink," the young man -- *okay, let's be fair, the _gorgeous_ young man* -- said. He flashed a smile that had to measure in the kilowatt range and started to turn toward the bar without even waiting for her reply. It was that small motion that changed her mind. *Just a bit *sure* of ourselves, are we?* she thought acidly. "No, thank you," she said. He paused and then turned back toward her. "Ah. Well, all right. Would you--" "No, thank you. Excuse me, please." She rose from her chair and joined Tanaquil at her table, still peeved. Tanaquil took one look at her face, and her eyebrows rose. "You look annoyed, Elizabeth. What's wrong?" "I hate arrogant men," Elizabeth growled, and stole a sip of Tanaquil's drink. "Ugh, Tanaquil, this is disgusting! What the heck is it?" Tanaquil sighed. "It was *supposed* to be a Tequila Sunrise. The bartender is being original, I guess, or maybe Janette's still angry with me." Elizabeth giggled. "Good thing she doesn't seem to have figured out who left her all the kitty toys. I'd order a margarita and end up with who-knows-what. Here, I'll get you a drink. What'll you have?" Tanaquil laughed. "*Not* a Kermit's Left Testicle." Don't I Know You? By Elizabeth A. Scroggs Betsy lazily strolled into the main room of thr Raven, nursing a glass of wine. It had been a long day, full of collecting what seemed to be useless and pointless knowlege fron the museum for Janette's benefit. Now she and the others were shooed out of the office so the boss could have a meeting with Dr. Lambert. Go out and mingle, and be nice to the Natpack, was Janette's orders. Well, Betsy could mingle with the best of them. She put on her friendliest smile and approached the nearest familiar(or at least as familiar as she got scrambilg around with everyone on the island in the summer) face. The woman was wearing a very stylish and practical dark blue dress, whose skirt went down to the floor. Betsy briefly wished they could trade outfits, because her own black silk sleeveless thigh-length dress, although gorgeous, was a bit drafty. Betsy introduced herself. "Hello there, dear. I think I recognize you from that fiasco on the island this summer. I'm Betsy. And you must be...?" "Betsy." The woman smiled and held out her hand. Betsy looked puzzled but shook it. "Yes, but what's your name?" she tried again. "Betsy." the woman said again, with more emphasis. "What?" "What, what?" "What is your name?" Betsy was getting a little annoyed. If all of Nat's frinds were this thick, what kind of help would she be? "My name is Betsy." The woman insisted. It finally dawned on Betsy what the lady was getting at. "Heavens to me (Well I couldn't say Heavens to Betsy, that would be silly), you must be Betsy Vera. I'm so sorry. I'm just not used to meeting someone with my name. It's only happened to me once before, and that was way back in high school." Embarassed, Betsy took a long sip of her drink. "Do you want one?" she offered. "No, thank you," Betsy Vera replied. "What I really want is to know what Nat and Janette are talking about." "We'll find out soon enough." Interlude By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC was deep in conversation when an unhappy Janette crooked a finger in her direction. Making her apologies, Tara slipped away from the table to where Janette held court at the bar. "What do you think you're doing?" the vampiress snarled. "Making nice, what, aren't I being nice enough for you?" "A little too nice, I think. Who is that?" "Jennie Hayes, a friend of mine if you must know. You have your flock, and I have mine. She hasn't attacked me, and I'm not going to attack her, so what's the harm in a little catching up?" Tara shrugged, trying to remain calm, and her eyes twinkled for a moment. "Think of me as Switzerland." "This is war, my dear, or have you forgotten you are supposed to be on your guard?" Janette frowned at her, but Tara refused to be cowed. This had been building ever since she got to Toronto, and her irish was up now. "You know, *my dear*, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't like me. I know I'm no Susan Garrett, but surely my fiction wasn't *uncomplimentary*, or is this about something other than telling stories?" "You need to learn your limits, little girl." She locked her hand around Tara's forearm in an almost painful. Almost. Just to show she could. "I know them fine, thank you. Something tells me I may not survive your lessons, if this is the way you intend to handle them." Tara's brown eyes flashed in the blue light, and her mouth was a grim line twisted into a wry smile as Janette released her. "I'm here because Angel asked me. I'm aware that *mere mortals* such as myself are of no consequence, but I expected a little more fellowship. Or perhaps you are simply distracted by something? Your grand plan that you don't see fit to share with your flock?" "I don't appreciate your tone." "Get used to it. I respect you, I even like you, though I doubt you believe that. But I won't be treated as a pawn forever, it doesn't suit me." "You weren't here in July, when I could have used you. You don't know what has gone before, so I will forgive you this little outburst. For now. But I've told you about playing with fire, and I am just as dangerous as Lacroix, for you. You may have come off too easily at the end of the first war, with him, but if it means saving you from yourself, then I will keep you in the dark." "The least you could give me is a torch to see my way." The words were bitter, all the anger at her situation forced into them. Janette's expression faltered for a moment. Tara saw it, and pressed her advantage. "You hate being manipulated just as much as I do. How can you expect me to sit by and take orders, when you know it is such a streach for me to play by the rules? I'm not blind, and I refuse to act as if I am." "All I am asking for is patience. I promise, it will be worth it." Janette stroaked Tara's cheek, smiling for a moment behind her mask. "It will." "It had better be." Tara sighed, all the tension leaving her, and she cracked a smile. "You make me so angry, you do know that?" "Yes." The vampire laughed, and then glided off into the throng once again. Miklos slipped over, an amused look in his eyes. "Not one word," Tara cautioned him, holding up her hand. Kindred Spirits By Jeff Carey Jeff glanced over as the meeting between the two factions ended and saw the participants heading towards him. Carefully extracting himself from the group of female NatPackers that had formed around him, he profusely apologized for his departure from their company and maneuvered to intercept Valerie. He had noticed her the moment that she had entered the Raven and had immediately recognized that some of her accessories (most notably the pentagram) were much more than the cheap costume jewelry that so many of his fellow goths wore. *How long has it been?* he thought as his mind raced back to his sophomore year, the only time he had actually had the pleasure of becoming aquainted with a `kindred spirit'. Sighing with nostalgia and regret he unconsiously grasped the talisman hanging from his neck and lifted it from under his silk shirt. Thinking a silent prayer to Bast he released the medallion (much to the annoyance of the vampires in the room for its power could now be felt much more acutely by them). He then walked up to Valerie and intoned "Greetings M'Lady" Valerie was shocked out of her blind furiousity at Janette by his formal use of that title in addressing her. Staring at him in surprise she quickly noticed the small engraved medallion that he unconsiously fingered in obvious nervousness at confronting her. "Greetings" she replied as she began to feel the same sense of a `kindred spirit' between them that had attracted him to her. "You practice the Craft?" She asked almost rhetorically as they moved to a private booth. "A variant M'Lady, I follow Bast" he replied with much trepidation evident in his voice, due to his general feeling of discomfort about allowing others to see past the shadows in which he usually cloaked himself. *Ahhh, that explains it* she thought *A pleasure goddess wouldn't care about one of its followers joining the Raven/ ettes. But still, this one has such a strong of balance, what could be behind his presence here* Aloud she merely said "How interesting" Jeff relaxed slightly as the danger of her mocking his admission passed yet he noticed that Nat had noticed Val's absence and was headed in their direction "I believe your friend is eager to leave, perhaps we can continue this another time?" "I would be delighted" she replied as they both stood and he kissed her hand in farewell "Until our paths cross again" he intoned as Nat walked up to them. "We really should be leaving" Nat said pointedly. "I suppose so" Val replied to her then turned back to Jeff "Perhaps that will be sooner than you suspect?" "I hope so M'Lady, goodbye and good fortune to you both" he said before they went their separate ways. He could almost hear Nat asking "Now just what was that all about?" and Valerie's reply of "Ohhh, nothing" Jeff headed for the bar but was met there by Janette who remarked "You did well with the NatPackers during the meeting from what I hear, however, I would choose my personal interests better if I were you..." "Why, whatever so you mean mistress?" he replied innocently. "You know exactly what I mean!" she answered him irritatedly, pointing at the retreating figure of Valerie as she reached the door and passed through it out into the night "That one has drawn much unwanted attention to herself and she may not even realize it yet. You would be well advised to keep your distance." Jeff looked at her skeptically and replied "And just when has a member of our group ever been so cautious as to not follow its heart?" Janette momentarily thought of ripping out his throat but was held off by the remembrance of what would happen if she tried. Eyeing the medallion angrily she left him to contemplate her words in peace. The Trouble with Angels By Sharon Himmanen Once she'd finished scoping out just who was still left in the club, Sharon moved to join her friends who had managed to find a table toward the back of the club. As she moved through the gathering crowd, however, she saw Janette's lackey, the one called Angel, suddenly detach herself from the arm of another extremely good looking guy and hurry across the floor. Out of curiosity, Sharon slowed her steps and watched as Angel moved up to Janette, holding up a lighter and lighting her cigarette. The two exchanged a few brief words, at the end of which they both turned to look meaningfully in her direction. "Here it comes," Sharon said aloud, shaking her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw Angel slightly tilt her head, although she couldn't be sure. What she was sure of, though, was that she was suddenly surrounded by a fair number of bodies, most of them Ravenettes, who seemed to take great delight in jostling her about. It wasn't quite a slam- dance pit, but something akin to it, more controlled and deliberate and it was all she could do to rescue her Guinness after nearly spilling it twice. But, with a little bit of determined pushing and shoving on her part she nearly made it to the edge, only to be cut off and forced back toward the center of the floor. The number of people had noticeably increased, and Sharon had decided that it was nearly time to get rough when she felt a hand grasp her elbow. Angel was standing beside her. "Let me," she mouthed, not bothering to speak the words aloud above the roar of the music. Then she deftly guided Sharon toward a table on the opposite side of the club from where her friends sat. The crowd, while not exactly parting to leave a clear path, gave them little trouble as they moved off the dance floor and into the one of the little alcoves that had sound insulated tiles to allow some form of conversation above the din. Sharon smiled sharply at Angel. "Not a bad trick," she said, a slight edge of accusation in her voice. "I've seen that done to yuppies when they try to be cool and slam dance." Angel smiled back, blinking innocently. "You just looked like you were having a little bit of trouble out there, that's all." "Mmmm," Sharon said, nodding and taking a seat. For the first time she took a good look at Angel as the other woman sat down opposite her. She reminded Sharon of Jemitha Soles, a friend from her childhood who had definitely lived, and dressed, to the beat of a different drummer, looking goth long before it was ever popular. Angel was a bit shorter than Sharon although the three inch heels were meant to make you think otherwise. She was younger too, with blond hair streaked purple, pale skin and dark lipstick. And her clothes! Sharon had thought living in New York for the last several years would have prepared her, but . . . "Janette thinks it would be a good idea if we talked, made some plans." Sharon leaned back. "And of course you do everything that Janette says," she replied evenly. It was a cheap shot and they both knew it, but she had to do something to make up for the dance floor fiasco. Angel simply continued to smile at her, letting the slight pass. It was a little unnerving, the silence and that smile. To cover she took another sip of her beer. "All right," she said, finally. "What kind of plans?" "Oh, I don't know," Angel said airily. "I'm certain that you and your friends are very good at all those tedious details, what with being used to dealing with public servants, filling out forms in triplicate, and all that." Sharon laughed slightly, tightly. "Gee, and to think I could be running around being a human cigarette lighter. I guess I just don't know what I'm missing," she said sarcastically. "Look, lets cut to the chase instead of sitting here snipeing at each other, OK?" "Whatever you say," Angel said, a slight sharpness in her tone the only indication that Sharon's comment had struck home. And that unnerving smile was back. "There are a number of arrangements to be made. Decorations, invitations or enticements, that sort of thing." Before continuing, Angel glanced across the room. Sharon followed her gaze and saw Janette, still in conversation with a young man, abruptly snap her fingers. Angel suddenly rose. "But not tonight." "OK," Sharon said, taking another sip. "Where and when?" "Tomorrow. Eleven o'clock?" Angel said, glancing in Janette's direction again. "That's fine," Sharon said. "Where?" Angel started to move away from the table, saying hastily, "I'll meet you outside the club. Now if you'll excuse me." She moved a few more steps away from the table. "Angel?" Sharon called after her, a smile of her own on her face. When the other woman paused she said "I've kept you. I'm terribly sorry." The tone of her voice suggested that she was anything but sorry. "You know, you can always come to us if things get . . . difficult with Janette." Sharon's voice held a note of sincerity that surprised even her. Angel whirled, Janette momentarily forgotten as she took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. Still smiling, Sharon raised her eyebrows and pointed deliberately in Janette's direction. Setting her lips in a grim line, Angel spun around, and stalked off toward Janette. Sharon took another sip of her beer, smiling to herself. Rumblings in the Undergrowth By Valerie Meachum *Well, that was different,* Valerie thought as Jeff retreated through the small crowd. She was accustomed to being addressed so formally on occasion by pagan acquaintances, but hadn't expected it in this setting. She wasn't sure why--after all, she supposed one was at least as likely to find such behaviour around vampires as anywhere. But why had he approached her--and more importantly, what could be accomplished by the contact? She had hoped and worked for improved NatPack/Raven relations since the last war--could this be a key? "I don't get it," she said aloud into the silence, the "seven-minute lull" striking the group. "Why the heck did she drag us all here just to arrange to get together at the party? Couldn't that have been arranged long-distance?" "You think there was another purpose?" Nat asked. "Maybe. Not to distract us from Susan, I don't think. Except that it did prevent or at least delay a couple of us going after her." "Maybe that's just as well," Sharon put in. "Sounds like she knows something about this we don't." "As usual," Valerie snorted. "ANyone else *really* uncomfortable with that?") "I am," Natalie confirmed. "That's why I insisted on being in on the `leaders' meeting'. I'm getting really tired of the `no mortals allowed' garbage." There was a general murmur of agreement as they all prepared to pile into vehicles and depart. "Anybody need crash space?" Nat inquired. "I don't have a lot, but I don't want anyone falling asleep at the wheel either." "I have...plans," Valerie volunteered. "And then I have to be back in Columbus tomorrow for my show. I guess I'll see you Monday." She took her leave of her compatriots, and as soon as she was around the corner from them Dragutin appeared from nowhere at her side. "You heard what went on, I take it?" she asked. "Yes. And I don't like the smell of it." "Well, I don't think anyone asked you," she reminded him irritably. "In fact, I don't seem to remember you being invited. So maybe you'd better be at least as forthcoming as Janette. I assume thatn's not *too* much to ask, allt hings considered." "Indeed." The vampire-mage studied her for a moment. "Very well." NatPack Night Out By Sharon Himmanen "That's odd," Natalie said, staring after Valerie with a frown. "What do you make of that?" Sharon shrugged. "Valerie being Valerie?" she said brightly. "I don't know. But, she *does* have a point," she added with a sidelong glance at Natalie. "This all seemed a bit too `hurry up and wait.' Think this whole party thing is some kind of bluff, or a smokescreen, or something?" "I'm sure it is," Natalie said. "But we have to play along, for now. It's the only way we're going to get any answers." "Don't be so sure of that," Tanaquil said. "Janette was behind that whole stink in July, remember? And we all played along until it was almost too late." "Just to cover up Laurie's defection, I know," Natalie said in a weary voice as she walked over to the driver's side of her car. "And, this whole thing with Dorian, and you being bait. Nat, I don't like it," Jennie added. Natalie was momentarily taken aback, but recovered herself quickly. She glared at them. "Well, if anyone's got a better idea, now's the time for it." She waited for several minutes before yanking her car door open. "Thought so," she said, sliding in behind the wheel. The others started to pile in behind her, except for Sharon, who leaned down into the open passanger side and spoke. "I think I'm going to stay," she said. "Hang out." Natalie stared at her. "Are you sure?" "Yeah," Sharon said, nodding her head. "I'll be fine. We *do* have a guarded truce with them right now and I've *always* wanted to check this place out." Natalie still looked hesitant, but before she could speak, Tanaquil spoke up. "Want some company?" she asked. "From Miss Popularity?" Sharon teased. "Sure." A few more from their group decided to join them, so Natalie handed her a spare set of keys to her apartment. "Now remember," she admonished mockingly. "It's a school night." But then her expression grew serious. "I mean it. Be careful." "Yes, Mom,"" Sharon said, pocketing the keys. "One more thing. Maybe you should try to talk to that Ravenette. You know, theone doing the butler routine with Janette during the meeting." "I think her name is Angel," Elizabeth said. "Because since I'm in New York I'm going to have to coordinate things at that end with Janette's people?" "You got it. Have fun, and don't take any of their crap." Then she paused and looked up at her. "On second thought, I take that back! I don't wanna have to come down and bail you out of jail or something tonight!" "Not going to happen," Sharon assured her. "Remind me to tell you about my trip to Seattle sometime. We'll see you later." They stood on the sidewalk fora few minutes watching her drive away, then turned and headed for the front entrance of the Raven. The bouncer smiled at them again, and again held the door. It was later in the evening, and the crowd was starting to pick up, although the dance floor was still fairly clear. She saw Janette tilt her head in their direction as they entered, then turned and said something to the bartender, who glaced coldly up at them. The others went to find a table, while Sharon moved toward the bar and ordered a beer. As she pulled out a few bills, a white hand pushed her arm gently aside. "Your money's no good here. At least, for the time being." Janette said. "So, you've decided to come back and play, have you?" Sharon merely nodded. "I thought you might." As Miklos placed her beer in front of her Janette raised her glass in a salute before moving away toward an extremely good looking man who had just entered. Sharon stood for a moment watching her go, before picking up her beer and casting a quick look around the club for whatever Ravens or Ravenettes might still be hanging around. And there were quite a few, including Angel. Ruffling Ravenette Feathers By Sandra Gray I dialed the number of the hotel in Toronto where the Knighties were staying. "Hello?" came a female voice. "That you Perri?" I asked. "It's Sandra." "Oh, hi Sandra," she said breathlessly. "Yeah, it's me." "The meeting still going on at the Raven?" "I guess. The Ravenettes here in the hotel all left a while ago and none of them have come back." "Good. Did you get the stuff we were discussing?" Perri laughed. "Yeah. No problem. Amy and I are ready. In fact, we've got a little something extra planned too." She explained. It was a minor added irritation. "Okay. Might be good for you all to check out and move to another hotel afterwards though. I don't think they're going to be very happy when they see what's been done." "The cleaning bill will be outrageous. But it's worth it after their unprovoked attacks and spying." She chuckled again and added, "I gotta go." "Okay. Keep in touch." "Okay. Bye." "Bye." I hung up the phone and smiled. I wished I could be there to see the Ravenettes' faces when they got back to their rooms. The mental image of black feathers glued to all their precious outfits made me snicker. And the notes which would be left that read: We thought you all should look like the little ravens you are. The Knighties Yep. The best revenge was to hit them where it hurt the most--their fashion sense. Difficult Call By Jennie Hayes Jennie sighed in exasperation, looking from one hand to another. She really needed to get some sleep, she was making dumb mistakes again. Her left hand held a pipet full of liquid, and she couldn't put it down to get the cap off the vial she was trying to put it in. Making a face, she contorted her fingers around the vial and managed to screw the top off with just the one hand. Thank goodness this was the last sample she had to prep for this run. She loaded the sample and listened to the familiar rhythm of the autosampler clicking as it started the analysis while she logged into her VAX account. She looked furtively around the lab, but somehow, everyone had miraculously gone home on time tonight, and she could access her account freely. She'd spent the day mulling over a startling message she'd gotten from Natalie. It sounded like things were *definitely* getting out of hand. Still, going to Toronto, especially to the Raven, didn't seem like the best idea right now. True, she'd taken care of the drycleaning bill for Janette's wardrobe with the company credit card (that little accident' with the dye analysis demonstration had barely held water when the accounting department had gone over her expenses) but she wasn't sure it was a good idea to show her face in Janette's presence just yet... On the other hand, Natalie needed her, and she *hated* letting her fear win. Before she could change her mind *again*, she left messages for her supervisor explaining her sudden departure (she hoped), sent a brief message to Natalie to expect her that night, and headed home to pack. By Proxy By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC couldn't believe she was still logged in. She looked up to see Angel standing before her, a devilish gleam in her eyes. "Lorilei is occupied for the moment, how would you like to take care of Perri?" "AS if you have to ask... I know exactly what to do." LJC admitted she had been thinking on this for quite some time, and she had a very particular little scehem in mind. "I need you to create a diversion, tho." "No problem," Angel loved this, and Miklos brought over a telephone. "Okay, call the Daily Trojan, and ask for Kim. I need her away from her terminal in case she's logged on, which she almost always is." "Okay," Angel dialled the LA number LJC had scribbled down on one of the red napkins. When the newsroom came on the line, she signalled to LJC, who had her fingers paused over the keyboard. "Hi, can I speak to Kim SMith, please? It's about an editorial..." Angel started improvising, and LJC started tapping madly away, waiting, and then finally wved the all clear. Angel wrapped up the conversation, and came around to see what was on LJ's screen. "What did you do?" "Just a minor annoyance really, but enough I think to pay her back. Okay, first I kicked her off loiscla. If you've never seen Perri with Lois and Clark Withdrawl Sysdrome, then you haven't *lived*. Oh, and it's brilliant, for once trearn didn't take days to get the listserv commands processed. So, a copy of the "you have been deleted" message got sent to her account, right? But you had her on the phone, so she couldn't resub, and now she *can't*." LJC stiffled a giggle, picturing a hopping mad Perri once she saw the listserv message in her box. Oh, the phone calls she was going to get over this one... "What do you mean?" "I was reminded of when Sandye first started the Blackadder list. See, if you get a list of the people subbed with a `get' command, instead of a `rev loiscla', it'll lock the list. No one can come or go, not until it's unlocked. And I'm the only person who can do that." "So she's stuck?" "Yep. And she can't post to the list asking for help even. Come Sunday, she is going to be *crazy* starved for Loiscla mail! Imagine what life would be like if you lost all contact with forkni-l right in the middle of something, wouldn't you be spitting mad?" "You're evil. But she's still subbed to forkni-l, couldn't you get her off that too, just to be evil?" Angel had to admit, it was hitting Perri where she lived, so to speak. Not terribly catastrophic, but clever in its own way. She approved. "I'm not listowner, however..." LJC chewed on her fingernail. "I kinda sorta had Chuck Rhee, one of my friends from way back, break into Laurie's account and do the same thing there. It'll get corrected to quick tho, what with the truce." She shrugged, wishing she could give a better answer. And it bothered her, getting involved with a Cousin who hadn't actually done anything to her yet, but it was the only way she could think of to get the job done, and hopefully it wouldn't bring the wrath of the cousins down on her just yet. Hopefully. "Hey, even a day or two without mail will be torment enough." Angel patted LJ's shoulder. "So you'll think Lorilei would approve?" "Oh yes." Angel smiled, and they clinked glasses and sat back to watch the reactions. "You think so? I mean, I may be Mom at tara@hydra.unm.edu, but this is war." ------- CHAPTER 14 Thursday, October 27, 1994 Dawn Meets Up With Schanke By L. Dawn Steele It was past midnight and Dawn didn't see any hope of getting to bed anytime soon. The bus ride to Toronto had been relatively quiet, and she had spent the remaining daylight hours in the afternoon doing some reasearch at various libraries across town. She had planned on getting to the precinct shortly after the night shift started but it had taken her quite a bit of time to find the new station that Nick at Schanke were now at. The front of the building was magnificent though and she wished she was there in the daytime, so she could take a picture. Dawn had managed to get past the front desk by claiming she had information about the death of Ruth Dempsey. Now here she was, waiting for Nick to show up. Maybe she could get a bit of information out of him. As one of the officers on the scence he would be able to tell her if there was anything suspicious. The details in the Toronto Star had been sadly lacking. She knew police officers weren't supposed to give out information like that, but all she wanted to know was whether it had been war related. *So here I am. I look like a refuge from insomniacs annonymous. I didn't get a wink of sleep last night. I'm not really thinking straight. * Dawn started to rummage through her bag. There was always a couple of Journal papers in there to read. *I wonder where Nick is? Oh sh*t! I bet he's taken time off from the war! Now look what you've gotten yourself into.* Just then a familiar looking figure strolled into the room with his hands in his pockets. He came over to the desk and didn't waste any time starting a conversation. "Hi! I'm Detective Schanke... Wait a minute? Have me met somewhere before?" "Good morning Detective. Yes we have. I'm Dawn Steele. I managed to get your autograph this past summer during that tv shooting fiasco." "The officer at the front desk said you have some information you wanted to give Nick about the suicide at the Royal York Hotel. Nick has taken some time off, so I've been handling the cases myself." "I'm afraid I really can't tell you all that much Detective. I received some email recently from her, telling me that she'd be in Toronto. When I heard about her suicide I thought I should check it out. I've never met her in person you know. You get to know people through email and I thought since she was in the area she'd contact me." "Would you be able to verify this?" "I'm sorry. You know how it is with small accounts. Anything that isn't super-relevant gets deleted immediately. I didn't get the impression that she was going to kill herself though. Are you sure it was suicide?" "That's the assumption we're working on. She left behind some peotry that pretty much spells it out." "I'm afraid that I'm wasting your time then. Perhaps I can make it up to you somehow." Dawn picked up her (immense) bag and rummaged around until she found what she was looking for. The glass container was filled with an orange-brown pastelike mixture. "Here. Take this." "Ummm... What is it?" "It's a tomato and bean dip. I've been experimenting lately with various kinds. It's quite delicious with nachos. I was taking it to a friend as a peace offering, but I've still got another bottle in the bag." "Ah, well... thank you." "No problem. I know that the Canadian police doesn't get the recognition they deserve sometime. It's not too spicy if that's what you're worried about. I'm afraid it does have quite a bit of raw garlic mixed in though." "That's okay. Nick isn't around to hassle me about it. Would you like me to see you out?" "I think I can find my way. I'm sorry I couldn't help you more." Five minutes after Dawn's exit, Schanke went over to MacLarens desk and surreptuously opened the bottom drawer. He took out the bag of nachos that was hidden there and went back to his desk. "Hey! This is pretty good!" Meanwhile. A lone Die-Hard had chosen to spend some of her cash on a taxi rather than trying to brave the public transportation service at that hour. Especially since she'd never been to her destination before. "Where to miss?" "Alexander St. please." *I hope Tracy got my email. I don't want to wake her up out of a deep sleep when she's not even expecting me. Especially since she recently became a cousing. Surely our old friendship would stop her from attacking me. Wouldn't it?...* Dawn leaned back into the taxi seat. The lack of sleep was starting to catch up on her. *Hopefully Schanke is safe now. The FoD's probably already have him under protection, but the spells I cast on that bean dip should help out. The garlic probably won't hurt either.* It's Not Casper By Ruth Dempsey The giggling unkindness of Ravenettes had gathered in one room to trade war stories and plot dirty deeds to be done dirt cheap. "Hey," said Angel. "Who turned on the air conditioning?" No one had, yet the room became colder and colder. Tara suddenly sat up with a shriek as a white figure rose from the carpet. It had the appearence of a small, stocky woman in a billowing white gown. Pale lips moved soundlessly as she reached out her hands toward them. "Is this some kind of joke?" demanded Angel. "I hate to burst your bubble, lady, but you look like you should have a roll of toilet paper under that skirt.' The figure abruptly lowered its arms. Ravenettes squealed and dove for cover as every piece of glass in the room shattered and a massive whirlwind sent furniture tumbling. "Smart move, Angel," shouted Lorelei from under the bed. "Now you've made it mad.'" The whirlwind stopped and the figure solidified into a small, stocky, dark-haired woman wearing normal clothes. The left side of her head boasted a neat, round gunshot hole and the right side was an explosion of blood, bone and brains. There were chokes and gags at her forming, but the stampede came when her right eyeball fell out and rolled across the floor. Ravenettes who were not retching saw her melt into the rug. Frost letters glittered briefly on the shag pile. PEACE BEFORE ITS TOO LATE "Too late for what?" asked Angel. "I don't think I want to know," Tara moaned. Best Served Cold By Tara "LJC" O'Shea Tara shivered as she made her way back to her room. The last time she had seen Ruth, it had been in an elavator in Novi, MI almost two and a half years earlier. Frankly, Ruth had looked much better alive than dead. And the loss to the RoS community would be shattering... Still groggy from spending all night at The Raven, playing nice, or not so nice as he case may be, LJC yawned and was about to fall into bed when another shriek split the air. She ran back to Angel's room to find the place crowded as Angel held up a velvet gown encrusted with feathers. "I want to get *even*." Angel seethed, and Tara tapped the nearest raven's shoulder, mouthing *who?* "The Knighties," Risha replied. "They got me too." Various ravens began rushing back to their rooms to inspect their closets, and Tara didn't bother. Not knowing what importance Janette was placing on clothes this time around, she had brought one evening outfit, which she was still wearing, and her airplane clothes, which were at the dry cleaners across the street from the hotel. She had nothing in the suit for the Knighties to tar and feather, but an injustice done to one, or all, mereited a special revenge. Tara's eyes lit up with devilish glee as she leaned over and whispered in Angel's ear an idea for a suitable revenge for the Knighties over-reaction... "I like it. I like it *a lot*." Angel smiled, and one by one the other ravens started whispering amongst themselves, and nodding. Plucking Feathers By Simone "Angel" Morgan "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeekkk!" The scream tore through the silence of the hotel. Patrons on the next several floors were startled from their slumber. The Ravens and Ravenettes rushed into Angel's hotel suite, afraid of what they would find. The sight that greeted them was not a pretty one. Angel, her dress still held aloft, ready to be returned to its hanger, was frozen before her closet. Her eyes were as large as bowling balls, and she looked as if she might scream again. Jeff rushed to her side. "M'lady Angel, what has happ..." He stopped mid sentance when he noticed the cause of her distress. Her clothing was still black, but there was something terribly wrong. Lorelei approached the open closet. "Are those...feathers?" Angel walked to her suitcase and opened it tenatively. It was the same. Her garter belts, stockings, even her hair combs, were covered in little black feathers. Then she spied her boots... She slumped down on the bed, mumbling incoherently. Rob looked puzzled. "Who would do this?" He picked up the note attached to Angel's beloved velvet gown. "The Knighties?!?" When Angel heard who her "benefactors" were, an uncharacteristic look of rage passed over her features. "The KNIGHTIES?" she ground out from between clenched teeth. "They did this over a couple of fuzzy *bricks*?!? Do you know how many *years* it took me to find these clothes? It's not like I bought them at JC Penney!" Betsy decided to intervene before Angel lost her tenative grip on sanity. "Don't worry about it. Janette will buy you new clothes. And her tailors can make you anything you want. It'll be fun." Just then, Risha burst into the room. "My clothes! You'll never believe what they did to..." She looked at Angel's mangled wardrobe. "They got everybody?" Panicked looks passed around the room, and people hurriedly retreated to their own closets. Just then, Angel looked up at Risha and grinned evilly. "Betsy's right. I need new stuff, and this is the perfect excuse to get it. But first, revenge..." A Ravenette's Story By Karen Knight Karen looked at her wardrobe - someone had glued feathers to all of her clothes. "I'm going to have to trash these things. Well, maybe not the undies - Jean Paul would like them like that." A smile formed on her lips - this could mean only one thing - Shopping Spree! She phoned the others to let them know she'd be out of touch for awhile - the last a major shopping spree happened, Karen was missing for three days! She joyously readied herself for the adventure. Attacks and Truces By Perri Smith Perri closed her door, almost slamming it, and gave into the giggles that had been doubling her over. She and Amy clung to each other and tried to stay on their feet. The screaming from the Raven/ettes had been music to their ears - finally, they were getting a little of their own back! "You don't think it was too much?" Amy gasped out. Perri tried to consider it, but gave up. "No, I think it was just right!" she finally said, giving in to the giggles again. "The melted Raisenettes in their pockets, now *that* might have been too much!" "Sweets to the sweet!" Amy cackled hysterically The laughter was only partly from gloating. The actual trips into the Raven/ette's rooms, picking the locks and jumping at every sound, had been something between scary and terrifying. "Thank God for brothers," Perri had commented at one point, as she sweated over a stubborn lock." If he hadn't gotten that lock on his door when he was 15, I never would have gotten so good at this." It had taken ten *big* bottles of glue and a gallon tub of chocolate-covered raisens to do it, but the reactions of the Raven/ettes, overheard as they crouched around the corners, had been worth every second! It was several minutes before they got control again, enough to actually speak. "I'm so glad I got here in time to help with this," Amy said. "Yeah, me too. I would have hated to do this alone." Perri yawned loudly. "We'd better get some sleep. They're going to be gunning for us tomorrow. Do you want to stay here?" she offered. "No, I'm right next door." "Make sure you lock your door," Perri warned. "Believe me, I will!" Perri watched her new friend leave, then sat on her bed and reached for the phone. Abby wouldn't be happy about getting woken up, but it was important. "Abby, it's me." To her surprise, her friend was wide awake. "I've been waiting for you to call for hours," Abby said breathlessly. "Something's happened to your e-mail account for Lois and Clark!" "My account?" Perri felt her chest contract with fear. "What happened?" "You got unsubscribed! I've been trying to put you back on, but the listserv is locked or something - it won't accept the message. And your Forever Knight list has gone down, too!" Perri felt the first thread of panic creeping up her spine. No LoisCla...what could have happened? Had the server gone down? If it had, why hadn't Mom... done...something....? It hit her. "That low-down, treacherous, two-faced....!" she sputtered helplessly. "She took away my account!" "Who?" Abby asked, bewildered. "Lady Johanna Constantine, otherwide known as Mom! I knew she would get pretty low, but this is going too far!" Perri started pacing, only to be pulled back abruptly by the phone cord. The jerk puled her back on the bed and this time she stayed there, thinking hard. "O.K. I need you to do me another favor. Send an e-mail to Lynn, he's also on the list. Ask him to forward me all of the posts he gets from the server. If anything happens to his account, tell him to talk to O'Dette - even LJC won't mess with her!" Abby promised to do it, and Perri hung up. "Crisis averted," she sighed, but she knew it wasn't over. Getting off the bed, she rummaged through her suitcase to find suitable attire. So much for staying away from The Raven - it was time to take this face-to-face. *** Perri entered The Raven with a certain amount of caution. She wasn't known here, but there was no reason to believe she was safe. As she had suspected, the meeting between the NatPackers and the Raven/ettes has wound down to practically nothing - only a few people were left. She spotted a gorgeous brunnette in one corner, purring over a gorgeous guy - that just had to be Janette. She gave that corner a *very* wide berth. She had other business here. She saw the small woman, about her own age, sitting in the opposite corner. Like a good Ravenette, she was dressed in black and wine, but she fit the description. Perri walked over to her. "LJC, I presume." LJC looked up from the drink she had been nursing for most of the night. Her eyes narrowed when she recognized Perri's voice. She took a drag on her cigarette and stubbed it out, a sly smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Hallo, Perri. I wasn't expecting you." "Yeah, I know. But you know me, I can't stay away from the action." "Maybe we should change your nickname from Perri to Lois." Her brown eyes sparkled with repressed laughter. "How did you know about the meeting?" "The Knighties aren't totally out of it." Perri took a seat without being asked, looking around the club. "You know, this place is exactly the way I had it pictured." "Glad you approve. How long have you been in Toronto?" "Since early Wednesday morning," Perri answered. "That long?" LJC's voice was more or less blank, but there was surprise in her eyes. "Yeah. You know, it's funny, but someone called my paper looking for me yesterday. Wound up talking to a friend thinking she was me. Silly, isn't it?" "Yes, that is odd," LJC answered, disappointment replacing the puzzlement. Perri decided to stop being subtle - it never had been her style. "Don't worry, *Mom*, I know what you did to my account. But it's O.K." LJC lifted an eyebrow at her. *Oh really?* Perri smiled with more than a trace of smugness. "Lynn's going to forward me everything he gets. So you don't have to feel guilty about letting me die of Lois and Clark Withdrawal Syndrome." LJC smiled at her with a tip of the head. "Nicely done." "Thanks," Perri grinned back. "I still don't know what I'm going to do about the Forever Knight list. How did you manage to get me off that one?" "I called in a favor." "Does Cousin Laurie know about that favor?" "I have no idea." LJC shrugged, slipping a cig from her purse and lighting it, blowing the smoke above their heads. "Depends on if she's checked on her list." Perri half-laughed, shaking her head. "You're evil, Lady." "Thanks." She accepted the compliment with another tip of her head. Their eyes met in mutual understanding. "No hard feelings?" LJC asked. Perri's grey eyes met hers, smiling. "All's fair." They shook on it, then Perri added, with her own touch of evil, "You do realize, of course, that this still means war?" "I wouldn't have it any other way," LJC said. They both laughed, then got down to the serious business of gossiping. No Pain, No Gain: A Tale of Well Deserved Revenge By Tara "LJC" O'Shea LJC was starting to get quite a headache. It had sounded so simple in the hotel room, but was beginning to get complicated. Still, she had promised Angel something swift and devastating. Renting the vans had been a snap. Likewise the airfare from Atlanta to Charlottesville (being an Air South founding stockholder had its advantages after all), and ATL to LAX and Dallas/Ft. Worth. Getting Dave Deitrich to risk his precious equipment was another matter entirely, but some careful bribery, and that too fell into place. Now all she had to do was sit back and wait. *** "I'm here to read the meter, ma'am." The large, yet non- threatening man in grey shirt with "Dave" stitched over the pocket, and generic polyester slacks looked a bit bored. Sandra opened the door only as far as the chain would allow, suddenly wishing with all her heart Bruce were home. "She didn't send you, did she?" "She who, ma'am?" "*Her*. LJC." Ever since reading about how well the feathers had gone over (badly) Sandra had been jumping at every sound, wondering if perhaps the Knighties had gone a bit too far. "Lady, I'm just trying to do my job." He pleaded with her, looking tired, and she could see the power company van over his shoulder, parked at the curb. "I don't know who El-Jaye-Cee is, but I have a quota for today, and if it's not too much trouble, I'd like to be home in time for supper." "I guess... I'm sorry, I'm just a little paranoid, what with Hallowe'en being so close. Worried that crazy friends might be trying to pull something over on me." Sandra smiled. "The meter is around the side, go ahead. I'm sorry I kept you." "S'okay, ma'am. We've just been getting-- "--Some odd readings in your area," the woman in the green jumpsuit tried to look relieved. The land-lady for he apartment complex, however, just looked bored. She wasn't crazy about Kim Smith's hours, coming in all hours of the night from working at that newspaper of hers, waking her up. "Smith's apartment is on the first floor, her meter is marked. I don't know why you had to knock on my door to check first." "Just following procedure, ma'am. Sorry--" "--to have troubled you," the young man tipped an imaginary cap to Mrs. Denton, and headed out back. While pretending to read the gas meter, he slipped a slim cellular phone out of his work shirt pocket and hit redial. "LJ?" "Here, Chuck." LJC leaned against the wall of her hotel room, looking out at the afternoon sky, a rich deep blue that she had missed in New Mexico, where they sky always looked too low, trying to massage her headache away. "I'm in position." "Go ahead." She hung up the phone, and wandered over to the bar to get a glass for water to wash down the aspirins. In Texas, Virginia, and California simultaneously the power seemed to go out for approximately 15 seconds in only three households. *** Sandra's eyes went wide, and at the knock on the door, she almost jumped. "Sorry ma'am, that's just the sort of thing we're supposed to prevent. I hope it didn't inconvenience you any." "I'll just need to rest the vcr clock, no harm done," she managed a smile, and shut the door in his face. Walking over to the vcr, now angrily flashing 12:00 at her, she turned it on to hit on screen programming, and once that was done, pressed play to see if her FK tape had backtracked, and she would have to re-cue it for the new episode. She was greeted with static. *** Abby flopped down on Perri's couch, and frowned at the flashing digital display on her vcr. Since the earthquake, tho, short power outages had become normal, though she would have thought by now she'd seen the last of them. When Perri asked her to apartment sit, on account of her practically non-existent roommate never being around, the there being Ravens on the loose, she had wandered at her friends's sanity, but agreed anyway. Decided now was as good a time as any to finally check out this Forever Knight show that Kim was always talking about, she grabbed one of the tapes off the top of the tv and popped it in. When she was greeted by a solid blue screen, she figured that tape mustn't have been used yet, so she took one of the Lois and Clark ones from last season, and stuck it in. Nothing. Puzzled, Abby shrugged, sure there was some kind of rational explanation, and dialled up the hotel room number Perri had left her. "Hey, do you have any movies around here I can watch?" "Sure, there are some tapes on top the tv." "They're all blank." Abby was puzzled, as she popped tape after tape into the vcr. Glancing down that the answering machine, she noticed it too was blinking rapidly, and she hit the play button, but nothing happened. "Even your--" "--answering machine tape is blank." Amy's mom said into the receiver. "It's very odd. There was a short power outage this afternoon, but that nice young man from the power company said this was a problem they were having in the area. There weren't any storms or anything--" "Mom," Amy swallowed nervously, glancing at her watch. "Turn on the computer, I need you to check my mail for me, to see if anything's happened." "Well, I'm trying, dear, but it just says `error'. Is that normal?" "Oh jeez, not my hard drive too! This can't be--" "--happening!" Sandra whispered, hitting the space bar over and over, hoping for some kind of response. The phone rang, and she picked it up, still staring at the screen. Perri had just hung up, and almost assumed Abby was calling her back with yet another disaster. "Fuzzy bricks aren't that bad, you know." The voice was scratchy, and Amy realised it was prerecorded. "However, wholesale property damage... well, that's another story, now isn't it? Hope you have friends with two vcrs, and lots of time on their hands to make dubs. Oh, and there are tape backups of two certain hard drives in a safety deposit box, before some of you decide to go off on a quest for revenge of data loss. We're not trying to destroy you, per say..." "Just having a little fun." Tara smiled, drawing the shades, plunging the hotel room into gloom once again. She had to book a trip to New York, and find a way to repay Dave for the use of his little electromagnetic pulse generator. His research was going to go over well at Georgia Tech, she could just feel it. I Smell Something Rotten By Amy Denton Knock, knock, knock! I rolled over in bed, glancing at the clock as I did so. It read 9:47 a.m. I thought But, what had woken me up??? Knock, knock, knock!! Ah, the door. I slid out of bed and made my way to the door, grabbing a pair of sweat pants on the way. Who was knocking on the door so early anyway? "Guess I'll see when I open the door, won't I?" I said aloud to noone in particular. I reached the door by the third set of knocks and then opened it just enough to see who it was. It was the Fed Ex man. He was holding a oblong package away from him. He hadn't seen me open the door yet, so he was looking for someone else to take the package. "Yes?" I said, annoyed to be dragged out of bed this early in the morning for a package. He looked back at me and said "Are you Amy Denton?" "Yes. Why?" "Sign here." "Okay." I said, taking the clipboard from him and signing the sheet. "Is this for me?" "If you're Amy Denton." He looked at the sheet, handed the package to me with a warning on how heavy it was, then practically flew down the stairs before I had a chance to ask him anything else. I stared at the package that had been so ignoumously shoved into my hands and tried to comprehend. The package was heavy and smelled faintly like rotten peaches??? "What weirdness was this?" I groaned. It's just too early for this stuff. I shut the door and walked into the kitchen to look for a carving knife I could use. After a few moments of fussing and cussing, I got the package open. The smell of overripe peaches smacking me in the nose. I grabbed the package and ran to the door. Once outside in the fresh air, I looked a little more closely at what was in side all the wrapping. A brick covered in pink fuzz, with fangs, smelling of peaches with a little card saying: From the Ravenettes. I stared at it for a moment and then it dawned on me. A blond brick with fangs. The Ravens/ettes oppinion of Nick. I groaned out loud. As I stood there and muttered my plans for revenge, along with several choice adjectives, my neighbor Carolyn walked by, on her way to class. She looked at the package in my hand and stopped. "What is that?" "A brick covered in fuzz, with fangs." "Someone sent you a brick covered in fuzz and fangs?" "I have weird friends." "You can say that again." She stared for a moment longer, then continued on her way to class. I went inside, put the brick in the refrigerator, (I couldn't think of where else to put it), got dressed and went to the computer lab on campus to e-mail Sandra and tell her what had just happened. Rallying the Troops By Sandra Gray I looked over the message one more time before sending it, wishing I could tell more of what I knew. But that could be too dangerous if the message was somehow intercepted by hostile factions. *** To: Knighties list From: tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu Subj: We're Needed Fellow Knighties: Our spies in Toronto have learned disturbing news. The Ravenettes, under the auspices of Janette, are arranging for "parties" in three pubs in Manhattan (the Jack the Ripper, the Jekyll and Hyde, and the Slaughtered Lamb) to which all factions will be invited. This has been done with the unwitting help and agreement of The NatPack, with Natalie even convinced to try to lure Nick to his venue, the Jekyll and Hyde. I have convinced Nick that he should have a supportive presence of Knighties in New York. So now I'm writing to you. The parties are scheduled for Tuesday night, November 1. I'd like as many of you as feel you can be in New York on Monday or Tuesday to respond by email or phone with information on what you will require for airfare expenses. Hotel costs will also be covered for you (details on which hotel you will be booked in will be forwarded with your airfare expenses wire). I'm sure you agree that we cannot let Nick attend this party alone. The NatPack may be favorable to him, but he needs his own people there to protect his interests. So please get back to me quickly with what you need. Looking forward to seeing many of you in New York, --Sandra Gray, forever Knightie --tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** I hit CTRL Z and sent out the message. To the Pub By Karen Knight Karen decided to stay in bed until time to leave for the airport. The shopping had tired her out and the blisters on her feet needed time to heal. The Ravenettes were supposed to meet at the pub Jack the Ripper in New York. Karen fell asleep and dreamed about meeting Richard Jury at the pub. Naughty dreams. LaCroix Receives a Package By Sandra Gray LaCroix walked into his home office and looked at the stack of correspondence his aide had left there. Most of it was letters, but there was one package. Curious, he lifted it up and looked at it. It was from a Sandra Gray in Harrisonburg, Virginia. Now why was that name familiar? Since there was a "war" on, he shook the package and probed it with his vampire senses. Nothing. He opened it. He picked up the folded note paper on top of what looked like a black negligee and read it. He frowned. A Knightie was returning his gift? Rather curtly returning it, too. And what in the world was all this about a picture and badly written love letters? A *Knightie?* Nicolas really needed to keep a tighter rein on his followers. Didn't this Sandra Gray realize that there was supposed to be a truce between their factions? Even if it wasn't-- Then he remembered the name and the person who went with that name. The woman with the red hair Janette had suggested he "thrill" in the last war--it was her husband who'd come up with the separate mail drops for all the factions idea. He remembered their private conversation, the offer he'd made in jest. He smiled at the memory. Although she *was* a woman with strong physical appetites... He set aside her letter and saw a second card in the box, supposedly from him. He had to agree; it *was* crass. The negligee was nice, though. Then he noticed the picture in the bottom of the box. And saw red. The man in the picture bore more than a passing resemblance to him and was dressed, apparently, in the black negligee. Posing seductively... LaCroix rose and gave a slight growl. If this was Mrs. Gray's idea of a joke... He picked up the wrapper to look at it and another wrapper poked out. He pulled the brown sheets apart. The inner wrapper had a Toronto origination. If it was meant to be a cover for the package, a ruse to disguise its origins... He calmed. Nick's people, for the most part, didn't think in that devious a manner. Although in the last war there *was* that woman who tampered with his bank accounts-- good Cousin material, that one. But he was not amused. With cold determination, he decided, "This warrants some more investigation." UGHHHHH! By Patsy Kong I just came back home from spending several days at a friend's place and what should I find, but a message from FedEx saying that htey had been by with a delivery and would return again. I waited for them to return while I unpacked my dirty laundry. One thing good about living at home is that you don't have to worry about hunting up quarters for the washer. I heard the bells chime upstairs and went to answer the door. I signed for the package and literally dropped it on my foot as the delivery guy handed it over. "Whoops. Watch it. It's kinda heavy." he informed me belatedly. "Gee, thanks," I replied sarcastically. I shut the door and headed into the kitchen with the hefty package. It was wrapped in characteristic FEDEX manner and smelled slightly like... peaches? I reached for the scissors and attacked the package. One whiff and I was headed for the other side of the kitchen and the back door. WHO would ship me a package of rotten peaches? I wondered.I *never* got packages... unless it had something to do with the war. With a dishcloth over my nose, I carried the package into the backyard and continued to open it. To my surprise, it wasn't rotten fruit, well, yeah, it *smelled* like rotten fruit, but it was a brick wrapped in pink fuzz. To be honest, it looked kinda *cute*. I got a good snicker at the fangs. I wondered again who would be sending me this when I spotted the card. Ravenettes. Cute. I wondered. Then it came to me. HOW did the Ravenettes know who and where I was? I don't post often to the list, mostly lurking in its depths.There had to be a spy lurking. Time to confer with Sandra. As I logged in, I decided to check to email first. Skimming thru the backed up digests and second posts of the day, I noted that others had been hit as well, albeit a few days earlier. If all the Knighties had been targeted, there *was* a severe breach in our ranks. WHO could it be? I noted that fellow Knightie Perri was having trouble with a fellow Berkeley-based Ravenette named Lorelei. I wondered at their history and whether I might be able to help. I decided to send off a message to Perri after I contacted Sandra. To: Sandra Gray RE: The delivery I know that you and fellow Knighties have received those special packages. Do you think there might be extra eyes in the group? Be careful what you send to the group. Messages may be getting intercepted. I await further updates. MadDoc in the Knight I sent it whizzing along its merry way and thought, once again, that poor Sandra had an almost unmanageable address. But enough. I'll know sit back and see what our intrepid coordinator does next. Computer Concerns By Sandra Gray I hung up the phone. So this was the Ravenette response to the feathers! Well, maybe I *had* gone a bit far with that. But after three attacks by them on me... Fortunately, after suspecting we might have a Ravenette spy in our midst (it was too convenient that all of our group got the "brick" gifts), I'd made disk backups of the data on the computer. But I'd still lost a day or two of messages due to being too busy to download stuff. Thank God Bruce had already made disk copies of his gaming stuff, but he would miss the mail from the GURPS list. Good thing he was at that Star Trek con in Norfolk. I hoped that by the time he returned, I'd have worked out any problems from the attack. But he still wasn't going to appreciate it. Not at all. Still fuming, I got in the closet and dug out the old DEC Rainbow computer we had kept after getting the newer one. I hadn't at the time liked wasting our closet space keeping it, but now I was glad that we had. I had a little trouble hooking it up, but eventually had it up and running. I then sent out email to the group to see who else had fallen victim to the Ravenettes' attack. Karin and Jennise lose Susan-Again By Karin Welss Toms River, NJ. Thursday, just after sunset "Man oh man," groaned Jennise, as the two vampires brushed their hair, got dressed, and prepared to sally forth for another day on the job as the Archivist's Assistants. "I miss my morning cappucino. Maybe we should start a Peet's Coffee for Vampires." "Yeah, right," yawned Karin, opening the trunk of their rental car, and fishing out a Thermos. "I'd like a double nonfat decaf A-postiive latte." She unscrewed the Thermos and took a long drink. "Cow--again." Jennise shrugged as Karin handed her the Thermos. "What else is new?" Jennise drank, wiped her mouth delicately, and looked at her Nightmare Before Christmas Indiglo watch. "We'd better see what Lisa and Susan are up to... I don't know about you, but I get the feeling that Lisa is up to something. I'm glad we decided not to sleep over at the apartment." Karin started up the car, and they drove off. *** "She's WHAT!?" Karin and Jennise shrieked simultaneously. "How can she be gone? You were supposed to watch over her!" Karin was doing her best to sound reasonable and calm, but there was that prickly hot feeling in the back of her eyeballs, and he vision was going gold. Lisa backed away nervously. "I heard the dog barking right after you two left. That's when it must have happened..." "So help me, Lisa Merlin McDavid-- if I find out that you had to do with this, I'm going to have you for lunch. If Dorian doesn't decide to snack on you first..." As Karin's voice began to edge towards hysteria, Jennise disappeared into the bedroom. After a few minutes, the sound of muffled cursing could be heard. Karin left off her expert intimidation tactics (learned while working as a technical support representative for a software company) and went in. Jennise looked up. "It was another vampire," she stated, pointing at the windowframe. "Look at this-- the lock is snapped clean off. And there's no balcony or fire escape-- and Susan never had a chance to warn Lisa." "Oh sh**," groaned Karin, slumping against one of the many bookcases lining the apartment. "Now we've got to tell Dorian what happened. Does being kidnapped fall under the `avoiding an Interview,' part of the Code?" "Who do you think it was?" mused Jennise. "Don't think it was Pops-- why mess up a perfectly good plan? No reason for Dorian to do it... that leaves Nick and Janette. And this is definitely Janette's style--" "Nick!" both vampires chorused. "Who else would be dense enough?" "Boy is Susan going to annoyed at him," Jennise said gleefully. "I only hope she was wearing those garnet earrings of Lucinda's..." "Why?" asked Lisa, coming cautiously into the room. "Because," Jennise explained patiently, "They've been modified to contain a small computer chip... a transmitter. Pops wanted to make sure he knew where the Interview was going to be held." "So, what do we do next?" Karin asked, feeling immensely relieved. Losing Susan had been bad enough. would be...unpleasant. Especially if Dorian ever found out. "We've got to build a tracking device-- a receiver. Shouldn't take more than a couple of days... and I think Susan should get the chance to make Nick's life a living hell in the meanwhile, don't you. I mean she's mostly safe-- he won't snack on her, and if she can keep him from pulling some stupid stunt, she should be okay until we can steal him back." "Sounds good," agreed Karin. "I'll head over to Radio Shack as soon as we figure out what to do with Lisa here." "Yeah," said Jennise contemplatively. "What are we going to do with Lisa?" Lisa began to back nervously out of the room as two pairs of intent vampire eyes, one pair amber and the other hazel, turned in her direction. "Isn't it almost... lunchtime?" Lisa Treats Karin to Lunch By Lisa McDavid Jennise warped past Lisa and grabbed her arms from behind. Karin's approach was more leisurely. She paused to remove her prey's glasses before sinking in her teeth -- and fell to the floor, screaming and kicking. "What the hell?" Jennise let go of Lisa and knelt beside her stricken colleague. This was a mistake, as it got her a foot directly in the stomach. She fell sprawling directly on top of Karin. "Polidori's Syndrome," said Lisa impatiently. "LaCroix made the same mistake in the last war. It got him the devil's own attack of collywobbles, too. She'll be fine in a couple of days." She stepped over the fallen assistants. "Didn't you ever wonder why I don't care how mad vampires get at me? Polidori patients are poisonous to vampires. Just be glad you didn't get any." Jennise sat up abruptly. "Where do you think you're going? Or don't you care any more about Java?" "Java will be fine. All the cats will, actually. They're having a wonderful time at Mama Schanke's." Lisa collected her purse and carry-on. "She's a wonderful old lady -- the Italian half of Schanke, you know. The family blames the Polish half for Schanke's not going into the family business. Oh, sure, somebody's got to do police work, but the real money's in wholesale garlic. Schanke's mother runs a test kitchen right in her home." And Lisa closed the door softly behind herself. CHAPTER 15 Friday, October 28, 1994 An Invitiation is Received By L. Dawn Steele Dawn was helping Tracy to unpack. The last trips from the old St.George residence had been made in the past couple of days, and the new apartment was simply full of boxes, books, papers, odd items of food, etc. "Tracy? Where does this go?" Dawn held up a large poster with a vaguely Tolkien theme. It was remarkable similar (except for time of purchase) to one she had herself. "I don't know. Maybe over there... Center it in the corner beside Henry." "I still don't know why you named that plant Henry. I looks more like a Bernard to me." The discussion was postponed by a firm knock at the door. Tracy went off to answer it while Dawn found some tacks for the poster. "Dawn? It's for you. A delivery courier." "I didn't know anyone knew I was here." Dawn thanked the delivery man and opened the package. Inside was an fancy invitation to some sort of party in New York. "Tracy? Do you know anything about this?" "If it's related to the war, then I'm afraid I've been too busy moving to even look at messages lately. If they aren't from Dearest Uncle, then I've just been saving them to read them later. Is it something he should know about?" Cousin Tracy looked over Dawn's shoulder, but she had already put away the invitation. "I'm sure he already knows about it. Besides we both promised not to pry into each others affairs while I was here." "Yeah. But you're a Die-Hard. Even if you did find out something interesting, you'd probably either tell all of the groups or none of them." Dawn felt at the invitation in her pocket. "Maybe I should answer the invitation. Could I use your account to telnet McMaster? I need to contact the other Die-Hards." "Sure. As long as you're not around chocolate, your ethics are pretty firm. You wouldn't let loose a virus in my account." "Tracy! Of course I wouldn't. After all, you might have joined the Cousins, but you were a Die-Hard first!" Tracy went back to unpacking while Dawn quickly logged on. *** To: Calliope Catlin Kitty Hanks Ruth Dempsey Kathy King Subject: An invitation. I've just received an invitation from Janette. The Die- Hards are officially invited to a party in New York. There weren't any details on the invitation, but I think things are drawing to a head in the war. We might be able to help out. If we can't then we can at least try to keep things calm. Neutral parties can sometimes defuse tensions. I'll email you all again later with more details. I'm going to call in a few favours around town. Dawn steeleld@mcmaster.ca ps. You're all heard about Ruth's "suicide". I've been checking some sources. It looks suspicious to me. I think we need to meet in person. I've made reservations in the Royal York hotel. I was able to get a suite of rooms in a floor beneath the one had. I wasn't able to get rooms on the same floor. I talked to the desk clerk. Apparently all the rooms on that floor have been reserved by a group of people who wear black all the time and have had a few loud parties. Maybe it's the Corbie headquarters. pps. I don't want to seem crazy, but I think Ruth is still around. I think I saw her ghost the other day. I'm sending this message to her old accound in the hope that she can still access her email somehow. You know if they Raven/ nettes are occupying her old rooms, they may have seen her. I'll try and sneak in. *** A couple of hours later, Dawn slipped out of Tracy's apartment. Another courier package was filled out at a corner postal store, and the reply to the invitation was under way. Janette,Thanks you for the kind invitation to your party. I've contacted the other Die-Hards, and we will be accepting. I'll see you in New York.-Dawn Steele When she got back to the apartment, she carried a small bag full of expensive, imported chocolates. Dawn knew her own weaknesses, but she also knew that chocolate was one addiction she and Tracy had in common. Tracy hadn't been in touch with the other Cousins for awhile. The chocolate should be enough to sooth her desire to call them. In another couple of days, it wouldn't matter anyway. Cousin Mike Gets a Suprise By Kat Feline "Something devious, huh?" Kat said to herself as she stared thoughtfully at the message on the screen. She thought for a moment more, then a slow smile spread across her face. In one fluid motion she turned, reached across the bed and picked up the phone. The phone rang four times before someone answered. "Hello?" "Dan? It's Kat. I need you to do something for me. Can you?" "Kat?? Where are you?" "I'll tell you in a minute. Can you do something for me?" "For you, anything. What'cha need?" "For you to come to Toroto and bring your equipment. You'll need it." Dead silence on the other end of the line. "Dan??" "I'm still here. Did you just say you want to me to come to Toronto, as in Toronto, Canada??" "No, Toronto, Texas!!" she snapped. "Of course, Toronto, Canada. Where else?" thought Dan. "Why? What's going on?" "I'll explain when you get here. Don't worry about the plane ticket, it's all taken care of. Can you come?" "When do you want me there?" "As soon as possible. I'll tell you the rest when you get here. Here's the address where I'm staying..." After hanging up on Kat, Dan grabbed a bag, stuffed some clothes in, grabbed his equipment and left. *** Kat chuckled as she hung up the phone. she thought She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, it read 2:28, which meant it was 4:28 where Dan was. He should be here by 6:30 or 7. Hmm, that was cutting it a little close but it would have to do. *** Several hours later, Dan squatted down in front of a door and started to carefully pick the lock. He glanced up and down the hall to make sure no one was coming. he thought. He laughed softly as he remember what Kat had told him what she wanted done. It wasn't just devious, it was downright evil. It was right up Kat's alley. Finally, the lock sprang open and he slipped in. After a momentary search, he located what he was looking for. He sat down on the bed and got to work. The procedure took about a half-an-hour. Everytime he heard a noise in the hall, he looked up. It would not do to get caught by the occupant of this room. He finished, put his equipment away, wipped the room and the door to get rid of prints and slipped out the door. He checked the door to make sure it was locked and headed for the stairs. Along the way, he passed somebody, who, he assumed had just walked up the stairs. The person was a tall, slightly muscular man, with dark brown hair and dark eyes. He was wearing all black. He walked right past Dan, didn't spare him a look. Dan watched him disappear around a corner, then trotted down the stairs. He had the strangest feeling that he had just seen the occupant of the room he had been in and he wanted to get the heck away from him and the room before the man discovered what he had done. Dan ran the rest of the way down the stairs, out the building and hailed a cab. He gave the cabbie the address of the hotel Kat was in, he wanted to report to her the success of the mission. *** Mike walked into his room and went over to where he kept his PowerBook hidden. He pulled it out and started the warm- up procedure. He wanted to check and see if he had gotten any mail. Whlie he waited, he thought about the man he had seen in the hall. Tall, well-built, with reddish- brown hair. He walked right past Mike and continued down the stairs. He had been carrying a tool box with him. Mike had never seen the man before and wondered if he was new convert. he thought, looking at the screen, wondering what was taking so long. He realized what was wrong a moment later. Instead of the menu, he normally got, a JPEG of Barney was staring at him, strains of "I LOVE YOU..." started eminating from the machine. He stared dumbfounded. Who dared to come and mess with his computer??? Ravenettes??? Knighties??? FoD's??? Suddenly, his mind flashed back to the man on the stairs. Of course!!! Why hadn't he figures it out sooner! The man with the toolbox was the one who had messed with his computer. But who had the man been working for?? He was furious, if he had been a vampire, his eyes would have be glowing red by that time. A polite beep came from the machine, breaking into his thoughts, he stared down at the screen and a message appeared. It read: Cousin Mike: We have had your computer rigged. Everytime you reboot, you will get this message on the screen. Every button you push will result in the Barney song, music only, being played and a JPEG of Barney will appear on the screen. One aspect of this is that if you try to delete this sub- program your hard-drive will crash and dump everyting on it into the void. There is a key; you can find it at The Slaughtered Lamb in New York City on Halloween night. Thank you, Kat, Ravenette Mike was beyond furious at this point. He tried to reboot and sure enough, the music and the picture appeared. he thought. He shut off the PowerBook and went to tell the others what had just happened. he thought as he stalked down the hall. A Conversation, Overheard By Selma McCrory Karin and Jennise sped onwards in their rented car. They had their minds set on locating Susan, who had been kidnapped by Nick. So they could be forgiven for not noticing their visitor. He hovered in the night, listening to their conversation with LaCroix on the phone. Karin was talking at a normal volume, and it really helped when they stopped at stoplights. Vince was that visitor. He had followed orders and tried to find out what LaCroix was up to. And what he had found out was interesting. Karin and Jennise were trying to find Susan for her interview. In New York. And LaCroix was scheming to drive Dorian up the wall. Once he was sure that he knew everything that he needed to know, he headed for a payphone. He got out his phone card and went to call Sacramento. Lost Connections By Selma McCrory I listened as the phone rang again, frustrated at not getting anyone. First I'd tried Sharon, and then I'd tried ringing Nat at work and at home. I'm sure that someone at the Raven would have answered the phone if I had called during the night, but I was too impatient to. Since my email had gone out, I'd had difficulty reaching anyone, and I'm not sure that my current screename was sending anything out. AOL's mail system was having fits, sometimes handing me things from yesterday, sometimes handing me the most recent stories from fkfic. Oh, I'd been reaching John occasionally, since he'd been helping me handle Vince for the last few months, but he hadn't been responding lately. The only person I reached, or I should say, reached me, was Vince. He'd uncovered something. I could tell that he'd found something that he was excited about, even though he tried to cover it up with that calm British demeanor of his. Maybe he'll even forget that he wants to bring me across. Well, Vince may be heading home soon, but then he may become so fascinated that he'll forget me. I pray so... And maybe I'll find Sharon. Sometime. A Knightie and a Ravenette Take Flight (Part 1 of 2) By Amy Denton and Kate Feline I e-mailed Sandra about the blond brick I received in the mail, then left for class. After class I came into the computer lab, logged on and discoverd that I had an e-mail message from Sandra. *** To: z_dentonam@titan.sfasu.edu From:TMP_HARKINS@DIRAC. PYHSICS.JMU.EDU Subject: You got one too, huh? So, you got one of the bricks, huh?? I don't know why they attacked us. We haven't done anything to them. That, however is about to change. :)= Why don't you join the others in Toronto. You know where they are staying. Sandra, forever Knightie tmp_harkins@dirac.physics.jmu.edu *** I thought, "Yes," I said out loud, "I'll go. It'll be fun." Joe, the computer worker looked in my direction but not for long. He was used to me talking to myself. I e-mailed back to Sandra that I would be on the first plane out, after getting some stuff. (GrimJim had asked me to bring something). I asked her for transportation from the airport and the address of the hotel. I then logged off and ran out of the Boyton computer lab, banginng the door behind me. I had a million things to do. When I got home, I went downstairs and banged on the door of my Raventte neighbor Kat. She opened the door on the second knock. "Guess what," she said, "I'm going to Toronto." "Me, too." I replied. "Whanna go to Tyler and get some stuff?" "Give me half a minute." She said, disappearing into her bedroom in the back of the apartment. "You wanna drive or should I?" I yelled to her. "Why are you asking?" She reappeared, shoes in hand. "Well, I don't want to die on the way there but I also don't want to take an hour and a half getting there." She looked up from tying her shoelaces. "Are you implying that I drive too fast?" "No, I'm *saying* that you drive too fast." I grinned when she made a face at me. "So," I said, repeating myself, "do you want to drive or should I?" "I'll drive as long as *you* don't back-seat drive." We walked out of her apartment. She locked the door and we headed for the car. "You won't hear a peep out of me. Maybe a squeak of fear now and then but no peeps." She made another face at me. I handed her the keys and got in the passengers seat. "C'mon," I said "it's already 2:30 and I don't want to be on these roads after dark. You can't see anything on them." "All right. Hang on." She turned on the engine and we flew out the apartment parking lot. The trip to Tyler was uneventfull. (It took half-an-hour. I didn't look) We arrived in downtown Tyler at 3:00 and decided to go to Foley's to get some clothes for out trip. Yes, Foley's was expensive but it had the greatest selection of clothes for 150 miles around the area. Three hours and hundreds of dollars later, we staggered out of Foley's weighted down with our purchases. As we waddled to the car, I remarked "Now would be a great time to mug us." "Nah," Kat replied "they'd never find us under all this stuff." We finally made it to the car (all the way at the end, wouldn't you know) and dumped our purchases in the trunk. (Big trunk, Nick would approve) After we got back in the car (I releived Kat of the car keys.), "Where to next?" she said "I've got to go to Target and get some stuff." "Okay, I'll come along with you." "I need to get some stuff, but I don't want you to be there." "Ditto. Why don't we split up and meet back at the car at quarter till?" "That's cool." Amy... As I walked into Target, I wondered It was, after all, near Halloween and the junk food should be nearby. 15 to 20 minutes later, I had located the object of my search. I got a few strange looks from people as I dumped all of the Raisinettes into my cart. I thought. Kat... I got my stuff for the party and picked up a cheap walkman for the ride. We'd be on the puddle-jumper for a couple hours and they might not have a radio on the plane from Dallas and I could not handle the country music usually available on Texas flights. I also refused to take my own walk-man because there might be nasty little surprises waiting for us in Toronto. As I prepared to meet Amy back at the car I was ready to argue with her over who was driving. If I let her drive we wouldn't make it back for our 9:30 flight to Dallas. It was 7:30 and we still had to get back to Nac, leave the cat with the neighbor, Caroline, Amy had to call her mom and I still had call my sister, get to the airport. leave our stuff with the guy at the counter, get on the plane for a take-off time of 9:05. If she drove we might make it back to Nac by 9:00. I drove. Arrival at Nac...8:15pm...Amy... "Let me unclench my hand from the door now," I said glaring at Kat. "I thought I told you not to act like Mario Andretti." I got out of the car; Kat just smiled evilly. "Let me go upstairs and leave `Flake with Caroline and call my mom while you call Mimi and let her know we're going to Toronto." Kat waved as she walked away, not bothering to reply. "Oh, shit! I forgot to pack!!!" I ran up the stairs praying to God that I wouldn't fall and break some important bone. I unlocked my door, grabbed a cussing Snowflake and banged on Caroline's door. Snowflake caught sight of Moo-bear, Caroline's cat, and freaked. She bit me, I released her, she jumped over my shoulder and ran back into the apartment and dove under the couch "Dammit! Come back here Snowflake." Deciding this was not worth it, I turned to Caroline. "Here are the keys," I gave her my extra keys. "She gets fed at 7:30 am and 6:30 pm. I'm going to call my mom." I thanked Caroline who was laughing too hard to reply and re- entered my apartment, slamming the door behind me. "Come out from under there, you little monster! I lifted the ruff on the couch and looked at Snowflake, who glared back at me, her green eyes glowing in the light of the lamp behind me. "I'm leaving you here. Caroline will feed you if she's feeling like it. You ungrateful little harridan." Snowflake just glared at me, then came out from under the couch, nipped at my hand (which I yanked back before she could sink her fangs into it) and stalked into the kitchen yowling at me that dinner time had passed over an hour and a half ago. I fed her and then called my mom. "Mom! I'm going to Toronto for a writer's convention." Isn't invention on-the-spur-of-the-moment fun?! "And who is paying for this? And what about your classes?" "Uh...Well...They're paying everything...and...uh...," I was trying not to break out laughing, and still come up with a story she'd believe and accept. "Professor Carbajal will not be there on Friday. Dr. Darville had to sit with his children while his wife had a job interview. And Dr. Beatty gave us a walk because she felt like it." Damn I'm good! "Uhuh. And when will you be back?" "Tuesday." "And what about Dr. Malpass? And work?" "Dr. Malpass is in DC at a history teacher's convention. And there's nothing going on at work. Any more questions?" "No. Just call me when you get there." "OK, will do. Bye. Oh, next-door neighbor, Caroline, is taking care of Snowflake." I hung up. I went to my closet and picked up my suitcase. I walked out and opened the thing on the bed, opened my drawers and just dumped them in the suitcase. I walked into the bathrom, got my toothpaste, toothbrush, shampoo, soap, dental floss, make-up, etc. and threw them into the over-full suitcase with my clothes. I went into the living room, carrying the suitcase grabbed my book-bag, stuffed my Spanish textbook in it , opened the door, exited, locked the door and went downstair to bang on Kat's door. "I'm ready!!!" Kat...back in the car, before Amy went home to wrestle with her cat... Amy was gritching about my driving. I went into my apartment, checking my mail on the way . I walked into my bedroom, got my suitcase walked back into the living room grabbed my red bookbag and my caboodle with my make-up, etc. in it and went back out to the car. I could hear Amy shouting at Snowflake, a yowl and more yells. Caroline was laughing fit to split herself in two. I walked out the car, unlocked the trunk (I have keys) put my suitcase and caboodle in. I closed the trunk, walked around to the passenger door and unlocked it. I opened the bookbag and put the new walkman into it, closed the bag, threw it into the back seat, locked and closed the door. I then walked back into my apartment to read my book and wait for Amy to bang on the door. I grabbed the phone and dialed her number. Ring, ring, ring, ring. "Damn, she must be at Mawmaw's." I dialed *her* number. Ring. "Hello?" Cindy answered the phone. "Cindy, is Mary there?" "No, she went to town." "Can I talk to Mawmaw?" "I'm on the phone," Cindy's attitude showed. Cindy is 16 and a freshman in high school. Gods forbid I interrupt her talking to someone she sees 8 hours a day, 5 days a week. She might miss something. "Tell Mawmaw and Mimi that I'm going out of town for the weekend and will call them Tuesday when we get back." "It's only Wednesday. What are you doing, taking the week off?" "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm leaving town. Bye, Cindy." She hung up on me without saying Bye. Little witch. As I hung up...BANG BANG "I'm ready!!!" Amy... "Let's go. You drive...it's ten till and we'll be late driving on these dang back-roads you seem to prefer." "Dude. Let's go." "Did you get ahold of Mary?" "No, she wasn't home, but I talked to Cindy and told her to tell Mary and Mawmaw I was leaving." "Did you tell them where?" "No." Shoppers' Paradise, Sharon's Hell By Simone "Angel" Morgan Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.....CRASH!....bzzzz...bzz.. Angel felt better now that she had destroyed the alarm clock. 10 AM...it was too early to get up. She hoped last night had been a twisted dream. The meeting between Janette and Natalie had gone well enough. She had even found time to flirt with Jeff, and set up a time to meet with Sharon. The Ravens and Ravenettes had pulled off the meeting perfectly. Then, after what seemed like an eternal night already, she had arrived back at her hotel suite, ready for a blissful night's sleep. Angel groaned as she thought about what the Knighties had done. Her precious wardrobe... Angel sat up. She had to go shopping! She didn't have a thing to wear! Karen had already left, taking one of Janette's credit cards with her. And Angel had discussed the situation with Janette last night. She was not amused. Yes, it was time to go shopping. But what about Sharon? Hmmm. What *about* Sharon? She wouldn't mind tagging along. Maybe Angel could recommend some appropriate outfits for the party. Angel had also been given another mission by Janette. Sharon's company would make it that much easier to accomplish. Angel staggered out of bed, refusing to even glance in the direction of the closet. She would have to wear her outfit from last night, even if it smelled like smoke. She was glad it had been spared. It was one of her favorite ensembles. *** 11 am, the Raven Sharon was waiting in front of the Raven when Angel drove up. Angel motioned her into the rental car. "Good morning," said Sharon in an annoyingly cheerful voice, Angel noticed a half empty cup of coffee in her hand. "So where are we headed?" As Angel began to drive, she answered, "Well, I have to pick up some clothes. I thought it would be a great opportunity for us to decide on a game plan. You don't mind shopping with me, do you?" The pained expression on Sharon's face spoke volumes. "Don't worry, it won't take long. Besides, we might find a suitable outfit for you to wear to the party. It's just a couple of days away, you know. These things can sneak up on you, and then suddenly you realize you don't have a thing..." Sharon's annoyed glance cut her off mid-sentance. "Look," said Angel, in a no-nonsense voice, "I'm having a slight...complication with my clothes. I need to get some. You're coming along." It was not a request. Sharon took a closer look at Angel. *Wow, she looks beat.* Although her hair and makeup were impeccable, there were bags under her eyes even the makeup couldn't hide. And what was that smoke smell? Sharon realized with a start that Angel was in the same outfit she had worn to the Raven. The stockings, the boots, everything was identical. What was going on? "Haven't you gone to bed yet?" she asked. Angel's chuckle made her wonder even more. "Let's just say it was an unusual night. I deserve a shopping spree," she replied with a cheerful smile. Angel seemed to be her usual friendly self again. Too friendly for Sharon's peace of mind. An hour and a few thousand dollars later, they had been to seven shops, and had seven large bags of clothing to show for their efforts. Every concievable type of clothing and accessory had been purchased. And Angel had been less than subtle about using Janette's credit card. Sharon was annoyed. She detested shopping, but had to admit that Angel was the fastest shopper she had ever seen. Still, almost nothing had been resolved. The morning had been passed with sly attacks and subtle barbs. Sharon breathed a sigh of relief as they left the shop. "Done?" "Just one more stop. Janette's tailor needs to fit me for some things." "You're kidding, right?" "Half of the things I need can't be store bought," Angel replied as if talking to an ignorant child. "I'm having them made instead. See, lighting cigarettes has it's perks." She laughed to herself. Sharon ignored the jibe, wondering if they would ever get back to the subject she was there to discuss. "So how are you planning on getting everyone to the party?" "Oh, that'll be simple enough. I'll send out an invitation to the Die-Hards this afternoon. They can't resist an opportunity to mediate. You ladies aren't a problem. We can extend a banquet invitation to the FoD's. They're easily enticed. Since *some of us* aren't on a budget, we can go all out. If we can lure Nick to the party, the Knighties (she almost spat the word) will follow. And he's not hard to trick. Besides, the Knightie spies at the Raven last night probably helped prod them into action. The Cousins will be more difficult. I think torment is the only thing they understand, so that's what we've been using to spur them into action. See, it's simple." Sharon wasn't so sure. "Wouldn't honesty be a better method? I can't imagine everyone turning down a party invitation." She guaged Angel's reaction carefully. "Sharon, you don't seem to realize how serious this is. We can't take chances. I would rather be sure of their presence and be deceptive than be honest and fail." "Yeah, the Ravenettes seem to live by that, just like their mistress." "Rather deception without pain for anyone than bluntness and lack of finesse like your friends. Who benefits from that?" she asked as she pulled up to the tailor shop and got out of the car. Sharon followed Angel into the expensive shop. A little man came forward, greeting them profusely. "Mademoiselle Angel, welcome back. Is the cloak to your liking?" "Oh yes, Edouard, it has worked out splendidly. Did you receive the list of things I'll be selecting today?" Angel asked. When Edouard nodded, she said, "Then lets get started." As Edouard hurried out of the room, Angel started examining the creations hanging all over the shop. She eyed a lovely silk dress. "What do you think?" she asked Sharon. "It's nice, but isn't it a bit conservative for you?" "Not for me, silly. For you. You haven't gotten anything for the party yet. And it looks like a perfect fit. Come on, try it on. You'll love it." Angel started pulling Sharon towards a dressing room. "Don't look at me like that. Listen, if money's the problem, I'm sure Janette would rather pay for your outfit than have you show up looking like a..." "No, Angel. Look, I don't *need* more clothes. I'm sure my own clothes will be fine." Angel tilted her head and just looked dubiously at Sharon, who was dressed simply in jeans, a t-shirt, and a long grey wool coat. Sharon glanced down, then looked back up at her. "Don't start," she warned. "Just *one* outfit!" Angel protested. Sharon shook her head, holding her hands out in front of her as if warding Angel off. "Thanks, but no," she said. Angel sighed and shook her head. Just then Edouard returned, his arms loaded with velvets and other black fabrics. As he started measuring and draping, Sharon paced around the shop. She had to admit that Edouard's creations really were beautiful. She was restless, and decided to pry more information out of Angel while Edouard held her captive. "Angel, I've started wondering what this party is really all about." Angel laughed under her breath. "There are things that need to be resolved. You don't understand what's going on, but trust me, this party is essential for all of us." "Oh? And why's that?" Sharon asked, as Edouard left for a moment. "Look Sharon, I'm not sure what exactly is happening either. Janette has us doing some confusing things. Doing background research that just doesn't fit together. Asking scary people unusual questions. And I've been trying to figure this out while relaying the information to Janette. There is something big going on. And I'd prefer not to speculate what it is." "Oh yeah, you're just a mortal. This is none of your business, right?" Despite her comment, Sharon was thrilled that she was finally getting somewhere. Angel had been elusive with most of her responses. "Did I say that? Maybe this as a problem we can't solve. From the looks of it, I'm happy to leave it to Janette and the others. This whole situation is getting really strange." Although Angel was getting annoyed, Sharon could tell she was serious. "How's that?" Sharon asked. "I dunno...I've just had these feelings since I got here. Something's not right. I feel like I'm being watched, like people know things but won't speak up, all kinds of stuff. Maybe I'm just paranoid. Wars can do that to a person." Sharon just shrugged. Edouard returned with a rack full of gorgeous dresses. Angel couldn't disguise her delight. Sharon could have sworn she saw mischief in that smile. "Mademoiselle, I've done all the measurements. I can have the velvet dress ready by tonight. I'll have the rest delivered to you as I finish them. Mademoiselle Janette suggested you look at the dresses here for..." "Thank you Edouard. I appreciate you doing this on such short notice." The man nodded and left the room. Angel started flipping through the dresses. "Don't you have enough? You're going to need new luggage if you buy any more stuff." Sharon was getting exasparated. Angel just smiled slyly. "Oooh, look at this!" She held up a dark red dress. "My favorite color. That dried blood shade." "Uh. . .i--it's nice?" she stammered. Sharon had never seen anything quite like it, not that there was all that much to it, and it was beyond her how someone could wear something like that in public. In fact, she'd be embarrassed to wear something like that in the privacy of her own home where no one could see her! "But I thought you didn't wear red." Angel laughed. "Stranger things have happened. I'll take it." She signalled to Edouard that she had made her choice. He put it in a box for her, and the two women were on their way. Sharon was so relieved to get out of there. "We're going back now. Can you drop me off at Nat's?" "Sure. I'm done for today. It's been a long time since I had a good day's rest, so I think I'll take the rest of the day off." "You haven't exactly been working." Angel harrumphed. "You'd be surprised." Sharon decided not to probe any further on this subject. "I'll be heading to New York pretty soon to secure those pubs. Are you going to check out the `Jeckyl and Hyde'?" "No. Janette wants me here. I'll send some of the others ahead and come down with Janette later this weekend." Sharon started to get out of the car, but turned back toward Angel. "We'd better be able to trust you," she said. "The same goes for you," Angel said evenly, putting the car into gear. "Mmmm. Well, it's been...interesting. I'll see you at the party." And with that, Sharon got out of the car and headed into building. Angel chuckled as she drove away. Her mission was accomplished. She had worked things out with Sharon and gotten Natalie a dress all in one fell swoop. A Change of Scenery By Eryka Hughes "Adios Vampiero," Professor Ash called to me after I dropped the midterm on his desk. "Adios don Pablo." It was Thursday and I could care less about anything that didn't include my upcoming trip to Toronto. Midterms were finally over and I was free until the next Tuesday for some fun. An old friend from high school, now living in Toronto had invited me up for the long weekend. "It'll do you some good to get out of that dingy city," she'd said. Back in June, Toronto had been the farthest place on my mind, but some strange happenings with my neighbors in the dorm over the past few weeks had me curious. Suddenly everyone and their uncle were breaking out of New York. Not one to be left behind, I called Amber and let her know I was on my way. "That's fantastic!" she gushed. "I'm dying to take you to this club. You will _love_ it. You probably won't want to go back to New York. I know I don't." "I'm looking forward to it. It'd better not let me down." "Oh I promise you. You won't be let down at all." That was about a month ago. Now I was two hours from boarding a plane and getting the hell out of New York. After sitting on the groud for an hour at LaGuardia, the plane ride was uneventful. Amber picked me up and instead of heading for her apartment, we hit the mall. "Amber, I never knew you to be a shopper." "We're going to the Raven and dress is too important for me to trust you to your own instincts." I looked down at my ripped jeans and flannel shirt. "What's wrong with me?" "Nothing. You look fine--for daytime. It's the night that I'm concerned about. To get into the Raven you've got to have the right look. Don't worry. You can trust me." "OK. Just no frilly dresses and no pink." Culinary Enticements By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel frowned as she examined the list of FoD's. Janette had charged her with getting them to the party on Tuesday. What could she do? Petty torments would work on the Cousins and Knighties. But the FoD's were different from the other groups. How could she lure them to Manhattan and the Jeckyll and Hyde? Suddenly it occurred to her. The solution was so obvious! The FoD's were connoisseurs of all things edible. The only way to lure them was to offer them culinary delights. Angel grabbed some of Janette's stationary and started writing. Ten minutes later, several invitations were sent out to the FoD's, inviting them to a gourmet tour of Manhattan next Tuesday, all expenses paid. The last stop on the tour was the Jeckyll and Hyde. The attendance of the FoD's was assured. Dawn Checks Out the Corbie Digs By L. Dawn Steele Dawn was decked out in black. Her make-up was all in dark tones to complement the silver jewelry. The jeans were a bit tight and the shoes were a bit small, but it was all for camouflage anyway. She hoped that if she were caught trying to break into the Corbie rooms... pretending to have joined affiliation was not a pleasant thought. It had to be done only in a last resort. Breaking in was relatively easy. Dawn could tell that someone had already broken in once before. The lock had numerous scratches. Dawn had gotten friendly with the desk clerk. Apparently all the occupants had left earlier in the day. He had overheard something about a mass shopping exhibition. The first two rooms didn't hold anything of interest. The third (Ruth's old one) was a mess. There was glass everywhere and the furniture was disarranged. The wallpaper was discoloured as if someone had taken a black spray paint can and decided to start spraying the wallpaper. "Either they had a truly party, or Ruth showed up." Dawn went over to the middle of the room. Upon closer inspection, the black streaks on the walls were also in the carpet. They all seemed to be pointing to a particular spot on the floor. Dawn walked over and cautiously stepped into the center of the black lines. Nothing happened. "Ruth? I'm here. Can you come and talk?" Dawn walked over to the bag she had dropped by the floor. She brought out a pad of paper and some pens, then a bunch of candles. "I'm glad this room is a mess already." Dawn set the candles in a circle on the floor. The center positioned at the equicenter of the black lines. Entering the circle she reached into a bag and started to mark outside the candles with chalk powder. After she was done, the candles were lit. "I'd like to talk to you Ruth. I've tried to make this a friendly place to visit. I know it's difficult to appear, but it'll be easier this time, I promise. Enter my circle." Dawn closed her eyes and tried to visualize Ruth as she'd last seen her. She concentrated on calling out Ruth's name in her mind. In less than two minutes the air within the circle started to noticibly cool, and Dawn opened her eyes. Ruth was within the circle. She didn't look very well. Sections of her body weren't well defined and her feet refused to appear. "Hello Ruth. I've done some research since you first appeared in my apartment. I thought it would be easier for you if came to you." <<>> "I still can't make out what you're trying to tell me, but I've got a solution. We both know you're telekinetic. I want you to move either my hand or just the pen. You can write on the paper what you're trying to tell me." The ghost hovered within the circle, then moved over the pad of paper. Soon the pen was working furiously and the paper was being filled up at an alarming rate. Dawn leaned over and helpfully turned the page before the pencil reached the bottom. The writing continued for some time. "I'm going to have to take this pad with me in order to read it all. I can't risk being discovered here. Is there anything else I can do for you?" The ghost slowly left the circle. Her edges smoothed out, but she was starting to fade. Dawn quickly blew out the candles and started to follow. They went through a connecting door into another room. Black feathers were lying everywhere but Ruth ignored them and moved quickly over to the TV. Under Ruth's urging, Dawn inserted the tape into the vcr and turned on the TV. It was an episode of "Forever Knight". "Is there something I should see?" It was (naturally enough) the "Fate Worse Than Death" episode and the vcr was playing the scene in which LaCroix reaches out his hand to Janette. The ghost emitted what appeared to be an impatient hiss and seemed to sink into the TV. The show continued but with certain slight changes. LaCroix and Janette were surrounded by a faint black nimbus of light. It seemed to shimmer and move and the longer Dawn watched the stronger it got. The black light thickened and then seemed to {reach} out of the TV and headed straight for Dawn... CLICK!! Ruth had turned off the TV. "What the #@$&&* was that?!" Dawn headed hurridly into the other room and started to pack everything back into the bag. The chalk couldn't be helped, but they probably weren't using this room anyway. She didn't want to think too much about what had happened with the TV. Dawn's subconscious went to work trying to figure it out while her conscious mind didn't want to deal with it. "Ruth? I'm going to leave now. The Die-Hards will be meeting just one floor down tomorrow morning. I've reserved rooms #415 to 418. If you can make it, the others would probably want to meet you. It looks as if you've been wearing yourself out though. Try to rest tonight and recover." The ghost seemed to float across the floor until she was in the middle of the chalked circle, then she seemed to dissolve and sink into the floor. Dawn hurried out the door and took the stairs to the ground floor. She wasn't going to chance meeting anyone in the elevator. She was almost out the front doors of the Hotel before her subconscious slapped the answer in her face. Dawn face became paler than it normally was and the freckles started to stand out. "Shades of the Nine Hells! There's a spell on the actors in the show! It must be affecting everyone who watches `Forever Knight'!" Dawn went down the street and headed for a subway terminal. The pad of paper that Ruth had spent so much of her precious energy on was tucked sucurely beneath her arm. Dawn's mind wasn't on the pad of paper though. It was trying to figure out what kind of spell it could be, and how it could be affecting the viewers. Alternate game plans were being formed and discarded furiously. It was going to be a long night. She had to figure it out before the other Die-Hards arrived in the morning. On The Road Again By Karin Welss The small tracking device on the dashboard of the rental Honda Accord beeped steadily as the car flew north on the Garden State Park, in the direction of the Jersey Turnpike-- and the Newark Airport. "How are you feeling?" asked Jennise sympathetically, for the hundredth time. She was driving, her face lighted an eerie blue-green color from the dashboard lights. Sitting in the passenger seat, wrapped in a large blanket, Karin gave a muffled groan. "Why the hell did you let me bite Lisa? I couldn't have been that hungry.." She blinked, and sat up groggily, her head still pounding from the aftereffects of Lisa's poisoned blood. "If Susan and Nick got on that plane to Toronto, we're shish-kebab, Jennise. Dorian will kill us-- if LaCroix doesn't first." Jennise looked critically at the tracking device, estimating the distance from the transmitter concealed in Susan's antique garnet earrings by the frequency of the beeps. "We seem to be holding steady. Not really getting any closer, but we're not losing them either." "Thank goodness for small favors." Karin said shortly, and began rummaging around in the glove compartment for the cellular phone. "Who're you calling?" Jennise asked. Karin smiled for the first time in two days. "I'm doing mail order-- for our friend Lisa. How does the Good Vibrations catalog sound? I'll ask them to leave off the brown paper wrapper-- that should give the folks in Columbia, South Caroline something to talk about. Now, which of the bondage toys do you think would cause the biggest scandal...?" *** Thousands of miles away, in San Francisco, a bored mail order clerk wrapped up the first of the black leather whips, and addressed them to a Ms. Lisa McDavid.... Another Night At The Raven By Simone "Angel" Morgan Angel sat at her usual perch in the Raven, watching the dancers and reflecting on the day's events. She had just received confirmation about the rental of the pubs in New York. She had hired caterers to set up a banquet for the FoD's, and sent out the invitations. She had also hired men to guard their hotel suites. Angel was fed up with the nearly constant flow of intruders during the past few days. Now the rooms were nearly impregnable. She felt much better knowing that her wardrobe was safe. The next person who messed with her clothes would die slowly. Her eyes stayed to Jeff, who was talking to Rob. The three of them had gone shopping for a few hours. They looked extremely handsome in their new clothes. The Nat- Packers had liked them before. They would really swoon when those two showed up on Monday. Angel had really gotten to like Jeff. Even Janette had a hard time resisting his charm. Unfortunately, she still turned down their requests to DJ again. The two of them had turned the Raven into a total goth club Wednesday night. Janette didn't mind, but she thought it might hurt business on a Friday. As Angel scanned the crowd, she noticed a brunette, who looked a bit out of place. She was standing near the dance floor, watching the swaying bodies. *Hmmmm. Another Knightie spy? Geez, I don't have time for this.* She got up, and walked over to the girl, who appeared to be close to her own age. As she got closer, Angel saw the girl's eyes stray towards Rob. "He's prtty fine, isn't he?" Angel commented over the loud music. The girl smiled. She seemed friendly enough. She wasn't acting paranoid like a spy would. "Yeah. You know him?" Angel nodded. "His name's Rob. He's German. You should hear his accent. I just melt every time he opens his mouth. Want me to introduce you to him?" Eryka wondered who this girl was, and why she was being so friendly. She was one of those goths. Her hair was blonde with a purple glow, and her face was practically white. This was definitely the strangest club she had been to in a very long time. She thought women were supposed to compete for guys, not help each other get dates. "Yeah, that would be great. I'm not from here, so I'm not sure it's worth your effort." Angel smiled as she led the way towards the two men. "Don't worry about it. He's not either. I just thought he looked lonely over there talking to Jeff. I'm Angel, by the way." "Oh, I'm Eryka." They walked up to the two men. Eryka was certain they were the two best catches in the club. Of course, that bartender was pretty hot too. "Rob, Jeff, this is Eryka. She's visiting here and I thought she could use some *company*." Rob understood that he was supposed to pump this girl for all the information he could get. The guys mumured their greetings. Eryka was quite charmed. She noticed the flirtatious look that passed between Jeff and Angel. *Well, I guess he's off limits. That's okay. Robert's more my type anyway.* "Eryka? Jeff and I need to take off for a while. Could you keep Rob safe from all these women for me?" Angel winked at her. "It was nice meeting you." "Nice meeting you too." Jeff took Angel's arm and led her away. Eryka would be in for an interesting night. ------- CHAPTER 16 Saturday, October 29, 1994 Getting to Know You By Eryka Hughes Rob eyed the newcomer Eryka with suspicion. She didn't look like she belonged to any other factions, but those Natpackers could be slick. It would be just like them to have a set of back up spies. Then again, she could be completely innocent. He'd have to see. *** I didn't exactly like the way Rob was staring at me. "I hope you don't mind me asking you this bluntly, but what are you staring at? Have I grown an extra appendage anywhere?" "I was staring? So sorry. That was rude," he apologized in his melting German accent. I smiled up at him. "You're forgiven. They made small talk for awhile with Rob gracefully asking her questions. To him she didn't seem to be connected to anyone. If anything, her sympathies lied with the Ravenettes. *** Very early the next morning... The club seemed about to close. Only a few strangling groups of people remained. "It looks like the party's over," Rob observed. "Well it doesn't have to be." "I'm staying with a friend here in Toronto. If you'd like to come over--" "I'd love to take you up on your offer, but I've got business to attend to." I looked at him and batted my hazel eyes. "OK. Have it your way. Will you at least take a lady home?"