The Coven Reborn 03: Vampire Mine

The Coven Reborn 3:

Vampire Mine

by

Phillip Marks

Prologue

Adeptus Morgan waited near Gate 17 at JFK International Airport in Queens. He was dressed impeccably in a collarless white shirt and a black blazer. His short beard and graying hair were both groomed to perfection. To Morgan, he was the personification of the Breath of Amaunet Lodge and he had to look the part.

Steve Windholm was slightly behind his leader. The novice cabalist was in a fairly plain suit. His job was assistant, chauffeur, and general go-fer in the service of the higher level magicians he would be meeting today. Steve had never met anyone from the Cabal outside of the Breath of Amaunet Lodge. Today he would be meeting two: Raymond Magnieur and, later tonight, Rebecca Simmons.

A moment later Magnieur approached the duo. He was unmistakable. The French cabalist was bald and had a sharp dark goatee. His dark eyes seemed to radiate power and confidence. Steve quickly realized that this was not a man to be trifled with and Magnieur hadn't even said a word yet.

"Bonjour Mr. Morgan," said Magnieur, using a typical greeting in public. He offered his hand.

Morgan took a deep breath and shook his superior's hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you sir."

"Quite," responded Magnieur.

"Your bag sir," said Morgan, gesturing the carry-on bag Magnieur was holding.

"Yes, of course," said the Frenchman. He handed the bag to Steven.

"This is my associate, Steven Windholm."

Magnieur simply nodded to the young man. The two high level cabalists started walking and Steve dutifully fell in behind them.

"Ms. Simmons will be arriving tonight after sunset obviously," began Morgan.

"Very good."

"Everything has been prepared as far as your lodging goes sir," added Morgan.

Raymond Magnieur didn't answer. The trio reached the entry of the airport. Steve scurried ahead of them to a large black sedan. He popped the trunk and put Magnieur's bag in. He moved to the back driver's side door and opened it for the foreign cabalist. Morgan got in the other side.

Steve drove them off a moment later.

"I assume the safe house where I will be staying has a ritual space?" asked Magnieur.

"Of course," began Morgan. "It is smaller than the one at our headquarters but should suit your needs."

"Good," said Magnieur. "I will need the assistance of yourself and Adept Simmons at the very least to cast a location spell to pinpoint the renegade vampire. One of your senior novices may be required as well."

"Mr. Windholm is my most senior novice, aside from our trainer."

"Good," said Magnieur. "It is unfortunate that your reports indicate this situation has spiraled out of control and now demands my personal attention."

"We have endeavored to keep you as up to date as possible," said Morgan.

"Of course," answered Magnieur. "Your efforts have been noted. Our first task will be to stop the police investigation into this matter. I have contacted one of my friends in federal law enforcement to that end. Once seized, the records will need to be secured before transport to the Dagger of Ka-ankh Lodge in Spain. We will use your headquarters as a temporary depository."

"You will have the complete cooperation of the Breath of Amaunet Lodge. Our full resources are at your disposal."

"Excellent travail, Monsieur Morgan," said Magnieur, dropping into his native tongue. "You and your lodge have done well keeping us up to date on this situation. Thankfully, this vampiric breach of secrecy has done minimal damage."

"Very good, sir."

"You would also be interested in knowing that I heard back from my colleague, the philosophus Callistra. She was quite enigmatic, which is not uncommon for one of her rank, but I did glean some insight into the Coven of the Moonlit Grove."

"Insights?" asked Morgan.

"Yes. This group of sexual witches, deviants really, have enlisted the services of Reynolds and Stevenson, a very prestigious law firm with close ties to the Cabal - it seems they have a great deal of financial resources. Their headquarters, called Nebelgutt has some substantial magical properties. They are starting to flex their muscles, so to speak, under a new and more dynamic leader."

"They have an adeptus?" asked Morgan, momentarily forgetting that it was not always good to ask Middle Circle cabalists questions.

Magnieur smiled subtly. "Well, an adept in name only. The title is mostly honorary in the case of these twisted perverts. His name is Michael Renard. I doubt he has more than a basic understanding of hermetic practice."

"It is unlikely they have the capability to interfere with our operations," responded Morgan.

"Quite right. A secondary goal of my operations here is to bring these renegades to heel. If they are going to start acting like a lodge they must fully acquiesce to the Cabal. The sexually perverse magic they use must be eliminated and replaced with proper hermetic practices. Those members who do not conform must be purged. It is typical, in cases like this, for nearby lodges to administer operations and train these newcomers. I am sure the Breath of Amaunet Lodge will have a prominent role in this phase of our activity."

Adept Morgan smiled slyly. "We are at your service theoricus."

Steve, of course, was listening intently to his superiors as he guided the sedan through the heavy traffic around the airport. He heard the word 'philosopher' and knew enough about the Cabal to identify the rank as only one step removed from the masters of the Inner Circle. The concept send a slight chill down his spine. Things were going to get serious.

1: Out-Cabaling the Cabal

My eyelids opened in the darkness of Nebelgutt. Insomnia would be my companion tonight. I was in Rayven's room. The soft bump of her sleeping form was next to me in the bed, cloaked in a variety of blankets, including the fuzzy pink one she liked. I looked at her and smiled, feeling a wash of love wash over me.

Rayven had a slight, satisfied smile on her face as she slept. Her long hair was a shock of amber against the light colored bedding. I gently stroked her hair, being careful not to wake her. I wondered, as I had for a hundred times, what she dreamed of after all the years she had lived. Did she dream of me? Were her thoughts of modern things, like cell phones, cars, and the internet? Perhaps her fantasies reached back to the Edwardian glory of her true youth, when Nebelgutt was new? I would never be sure.

I rose and pulled on a T-shirt, shorts, and some flip-flops. In the darkness I crept out of the room and made my way down the hall to my office. I hoped some videos or a couple of solo card games on the computer would even me out and allow me to fall back asleep. My laptop hummed to life in the thin darkness of the office.

"Are you having trouble sleeping Adeptus Renard?"

The female voice from the corner of the room startled me but it recognized it as well. That recognition send a spike of electric fear down my spine. I whirled around in my chair.

"Callistra!" I said a bit too loudly.

"Hello young adeptus."

The dark-skinned cabalist was comfortably seated in the corner of my office. Her brown eyes pierced the darkness around her and her long black hair was in a long singled braid to one side of her face, its distinctive white highlight obvious in the gloom of the room.

She was wearing an amorphous black dress and a cloak. A matching wide-brimmed hat was atop her head. The heavy cane she always seemed to carry was easily leaning against the chair. I unmistakable shape of Misty, Delia's cat, was on Callistra's lap, purring under her gentle strokes.

"What... what are you doing here?" I stammered.

"No 'Welcome honored cabalist' no 'Hello Mistress Callistra'? I suppose." Misty hopped away from Callistra and padded out of my office.

"Sorry. I just... You surprised me," I said.

Callistra smiled but it had all the joy of a lioness toying with a prey animal. "I'm here to answer your question."

"My question?"

"Yes," said Callistra knowingly. "You can sense something surrounding you. In your own words you call it elusive. I am here to help you understand what you are sensing."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Of course you don't," said Callistra. "There is more to all of this but we will get to that later." Callistra stood, taking up her heavy ornate cane.

"Okay I guess it's -"

"This is hardly the proper forum for our discussion, Adeptus Renard. I suggest you grab a sweatshirt."

"What?"

"The sweatshirt on the back of your chair - take it. You will be happy you did."

I grabbed the sweatshirt without taking my eyes off of the powerful sorceress in front of me. She smiled again and raised her cane. Magic enveloped us.

I found myself standing in a sparse woodland of spruce trees. I couldn't tell the season or the time of day - it was light out though, mostly anyway. The air was damp and there was a icy bite to the light wind that rustled in the trees. I felt cold air tumble into my lungs with my first breath and suddenly I coughed savagely.

I staggered a bit as a fit of coughing wracked my chest. Callistra was standing nearby. "It will pass Michael," she said. "Just breathe."

"What's wrong?" I managed to croak out between coughs.

"You're used to breathing the poison you call air in the 21st century. What you are breathing now is actually too clean for you. You will get used to it."

My companion was correct. The coughing fit passed in a moment. It was replaced by the blast of cold atmosphere I suddenly felt as I regained my footing. I struggled to get the sweatshirt on. "Christ it's cold! Where are we?"

Callistra smiled slyly. "Nebelgutt," she said.

"What?"

"This is the site that will be Nebelgutt. We are standing below the exact area that serves as your office," answered Callistra.

I coughed again as I tried to respond.

"It is approximately 10,000 BC. It is the end of the final Wisconsinan Stage of the Ice Age." Callistra pointed. "In that direction about 400 or so miles away is the edge of the Laurentide Ice Sheet. One day, Nebelgutt will stand here. Look around Michael."

My breathing stabilized. It was cold - high thirties Fahrenheit maybe - and the woodland was very damp. A thin mist roiled between the trees and there was a lot of water on the ground. It looked clear, like glacial melt water. My eyes continued to scan the trees around me. Interspersed between them were primitive icons: woven banners of feathers and whicker-work, skull poles, and a full-sized totem. In the middle was a crude altar of earth and stone. A fur clad figure was hunched over it.

My eyes went wide. "Nebelgutt was built on a burial ground?"

Callistra snorted. "Nothing so mundane. The Paleo-Indians that live here have only the barest concept of spirituality. This is a ley-line nexus - they of course cannot use those words but they understand the world around them well enough."

"A ley-line nexus... that's just twentieth century pseudo-archaeology," I said.

Callistra sighed. "How did you manage to slay a demon? No Michael, that's what the Cabal wants you to believe. Ley-lines are manifestations of the mystic power in the Material Plane. Where they come together that power is multiplied and can be controlled. Why do you think anyone built the Pyramids?"

I was at a loss for words. I stepped forward. The fur-clad figure at the altar was performing some sort of ritual with primitive bone tools. Her hair was dark and tangled. She looked almost Asian but strangely different. She was naturally changing after thousands of years.

"She cannot see us Michael. Even if she could we would only be 'spirits of wind and fire' to her," said Callistra.

"That woman is practicing magic," I stammered.

"Yes. This is where Nebelgutt started. A place of inherent power that has been magnified and enhanced over thousands of years of practice. By the time of the 21st century this power has reached a semblance of sentience."

"I'm starting to understand. The presence I can sense all the time, the calm, the protectiveness... I've always know it was Nebelgutt but there's more isn't there?"

"Yes," answered Callistra powerfully. "You know the answer to the question you have. I have only made you think of it."

"Of course!" I said triumphantly. "Nebelgutt's a trap, a trap that Thriza and her predecessors fell into. It's not malevolent but protective... it surrounds you, protects you, and lets the world race by you as you embrace it's power. Nebelgutt is like an over-protective parent. It means well but doesn't understand."

"And..." responded Callistra.

"Thriza figured it out at the end but she couldn't break out. It was too late for her but - she realized I could. That's why she left me in charge!"

"You already knew the answer to your question, Michael. You just didn't frame it correctly in your mind."

Suddenly there was a flash of magic from the altar as the proto-sorceress completed her ritual. My discussion with Callistra changed direction abruptly. We both could feel the magic enhanced by the natural power that surrounded us, even in this early epoch.

"And the Cabal?" I said.

"Yes," commented Callistra. "I told you that the Cabal was old when the Pyramids were new. Mankind learned magic alongside fire-making and stone-knapping. For most of humanities' history you were far closer to the natural world than you are now."

"As the Coven of the Moonlight Grove enters the world, the Cabal - "

"Will be coming for you," interrupted Callistra. "They already are in fact."

"Well we have to stop them!" I blurted.

Callistra smiled. "Many believe that the highest order of competition is a war between two nation states. They are wrong because they have never seen the intricacies and dangers of Cabalistic politics. Your Coven cannot stop the Cabal. You lack the power."

I thought about that for a long moment. "You're right Callistra. The Coven cannot defeat the Cabal but we can outmaneuver them." I was a bit surprised by the power of my own voice.

Callistra smiled at me. "Very good Adeptus Renard. You do not disappoint."

The powerful sorceress and I vanished in a flash of her magic and I reappeared back at Nebelgutt. I just wasn't in the right area of Nebelgutt.

As Callistra and I discussed the nuances of Cabal politics in a different time Anna found herself in one of Nebelgutt's hidden underground chambers. The atmosphere was heavy and the area lit only by thin candlelight spilling from the myriad of candelabras around her. The shapely blonde was kneeling upon a large soft surface, her delicate blonde hair hanging down her back almost to her ass.

Anna was wearing only a black latex garter belt attached to a pair of latex stockings. A pair of black ballerina heels were locked on her feet. Her arms were extended outward to her sides, each lovingly chained to the far distant ceiling. She was blindfolded. Anna was breathing heavily; she knew what was coming.

The young woman sensed people joining her on the bed. She felt her breathing increase and her heart rate go up. Duane had appeared in front of her, naked, a slight smile on his face and a fat lit candle in his hands. Sabrine was behind her, naked except for a black latex corset and platform heels. A wicked smile was on the witch's red lips and she held a short riding crop.

"What do we have here Master Duane?" asked Sabrine, her voice dripping with luxurious sexuality.

"It looks like a poor excuse for a slave, Mistress," responded Duane.

There was a sharp sound as Sabrine's riding crop cut through the heavy air and landed with a smack on Anna's exposed ass. The chained girl yelped in surprise and a bit of welcome pain.

"Thank you Mistress!" said Anna.

"Do you think you are worthy of my attention?" asked Sabrine.

"No Mistress," said Anna.

"Good answer! Here is your reward!" The riding crop struck the soft flesh of Anna's bottom again. Anna cringed but did not yelp this time.

"I wonder if this girl is a quality slave?" asked Duane. His free hand massaged Anna's soft, exposed breasts, kneading the flesh and flicking her delicate nipples. He slowly moved his free hand up to Anna's mouth; she eagerly wrapped her red lips around a pair of his fingers. "She seems quite eager, Mistress Sabrine," he continued, Duane's voice also gaining depth and sexual strength. He withdrew his fingers, holding them tantalizingly close to Anna's lips.

Sabrine's riding crop struck Anna's bottom twice in rapid succession. The creamy flesh of her ass was warm and showed a slight red color. Anna moaned softly. She could feel the sexual energy rise inside of her. The delicate area between her legs was starting to react and it felt very good.

Anna felt Sabrine's touch on her bare back as her coven-sister pushed her hair away and whispered heavily into her ear: "Let's see what she can really take." A moment later Anna felt Sabrine kiss her neck, nibbling the flesh afterward. Below the riding crop didn't strike, instead Sabrine ran it along Anna's pussy. The whip came away smeared with the run-off of Anna's passion. Sabrine smiled.

Anna felt her passion rise another notch as Duane brought the plump candle he was holding up to Anna's exposed tits. He allowed it's heat to play across her flesh, telegraphing what was coming. Sabrine moved up, pressing her body against Anna and tilted her head up. The two women kissed a moment later, Sabrine's tongue aggressively exploring the inside of Anna's mouth, driving the passion of the chained woman up.

The women separated a moment later, Sabrine's chin resting upon Anna's shoulder. Sabrine's eyes glittered in the now heavily scented semi-darkness that surrounded the threesome. Slowly, Duane tilted the candle he was holding, allowing a thin drizzle of hot wax to fall upon Anna's sensitive nipples.

Anna sucked in air and her body tensed as two shots of quick, intense pain rocketed into her system. She let out a sound that was half squeak and half moan. She welcomed the slight burning sensation and felt the sexual tingle in her pussy rise. A small trickle of warm juice ran down one of Anna's legs near her crotch.

Sabrine smiled wickedly and drew herself to Anna's side. A quick swipe of the riding crop whipped through the air in a way that Anna heard. "I think our little slave liked that Master," said Sabrine.

"I think so too," added Duane.

"Thank you Master," panted Anna. "Again... please."

"Allow me to prepare her," said Sabrine. She moved her free hand to Anna's crotch, gently running her fingers along the wet slit she found there. Anna gasped. Sabrine then smacked each of Anna's breasts with the riding crop, breaking away the hardened wax. Anna clenched her teeth as she stifled a cry.

Duane smiled and let another dribble of hot wax fall upon Anna's breasts. He aimed for her nipples again but ensured ample heated liquid found her tender flesh. Anna let out a croaking moan as she forced herself to not scream. A sharp pain spiked through the young woman's system and faded as quickly as it came. Below, a pair of Sabrine's fingers penetrated Anna's dripping womanhood.

Duane and Anna kissed.

Suddenly there was an unexpected flash of magic nearby. I appeared on the scene, still wearing the flip-flops, shorts, and sweatshirt I had been wearing during my impromptu journey with Callistra.

"Shit," I whispered to myself.

"Michael!" exclaimed Sabrine.

"What the hell man?!" added Duane, almost dropping the candle.

"What's going on?" stammered the blind-folded Anna.

"Ah... hey guys," I said, trying to find the right words to say.

"What are you doing here? Did you screw up a teleport?" asked Sabrine, her question teetering on the edge of anger and surprise.

"Banana!" yelled Anna, invoking their safe word. "Untie me!" Duane immediately unchained the girl, removing her blindfold.

"No. It wasn't me. I was with Callistra and she sent me here," I said.

"Callistra? You mean the cabalist?" asked Sabrine.

"What's going on?" interjected Anna.

I tried to piece together the best answer I could for the interrupted trio: "I couldn't sleep so I went to my office. Callistra was there and she took me to the past when Nebelgutt was just a... wilderness I guess. The Cabal... the Cabal is coming. We have work to do."

"What are you talking about?" asked Duane.

"Well this sort of killed the mood," said Anna.

"Yeah," sighed Sabrine.

"It's okay though!" I exclaimed. "I think I have it figured out. We've got lots of work to do. I need you, Duane, and Sabrine, and Rayven, in my office right away in the morning. I'll need Franziska too. Yeah, I'll text you guys when I get back upstairs. We have a lot to do!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Duane again.

"I'd like to get an answer too!" added Sabrine.

"I think I have it figured out, what we need to do. The Cabal is coming for us but all we have to do is... out Cabal the Cabal! It'll work great!" I turned to leave my coven-mates.

The three of them looked at each other blankly. "Is he okay?" asked Anna.

"I don't know," answered Duane.

"I've got to call the cops. We'll need the cops," I said to myself as I walked away. I had our plan figured out, or at least I thought I did, but my mind was running so fast I couldn't explain it yet.

"Well, we will have to try this again," commented Sabrine.

"Yeah," added Anna rather bitterly. "That was working really good for me."

"Me too," said Duane. "I know Michael though and if he is this worked up I think we all should get some sleep tonight. It might be the last time for a while."

The two girls nodded in agreement.

The meeting we had the next morning was one of the most contentious we had ever experienced in my year with the Coven. I had made my personnel choices well: Sabrine and Rayven were arguably the most powerful members we had, magically, and Sabrine had the additional trait of being very logical. Duane was the most worldly member we had. I knew Franziska would disagree with me and that was important too.

Duane was all in but pointed out, accurately, that a lot of what would happen was outside of our control. Sabrine expressed no real misgivings. She seemed excited for the chance to work with Shelia Foster again. Rayven was quiet throughout most of the meeting, finally expressing grave concerns about magical warfare.

Franziska was loud in her opposition, attacking my plan from multiple angles. Her advice was valuable - I had to rethink several things and she made it quite plain that I had overestimated our Coven's capabilities in several key areas.

In the end though I was the adeptus, the leader, of the Coven. I called Justin Duke and Shelia Foster later in the day and the die had been cast.

2: Amber Alert

In the backroom of the Twin Pillars Homeless Shelter Amber's eyes slowly opened. She found herself comfortable for the first time in many days. There was no pain, no physical pain anyway. The young woman sat up. She felt something on her side. Her hand moved down to the expertly bandaged wound on her side.

"Good morning, or late afternoon as the case might be here," said Donny Ruthman. The director of the facility stepped into the small room Amber was in.

"I'm at the Shelter?" asked Amber.

"Yes," responded Donny. "You've been here a couple days. When you got here one of our volunteers happened to be a nurse. She took the slug out of your side and bandaged you up." He paused for a few moments as Amber felt her side. Donny smiled: "You're welcome Amber."

Amber looked down and grimaced. She wasn't particularly good at these sorts of interactions.

Donny continued: "I have some clothes set aside for you. I think they should fit. There is a shower right around the corner. You can clean up and we can change your bandage. Then we need to talk."

"Donny I'm leaving for the day!" came a call from outside the room they were in. It was Vicki.

"Got it Vicki!" called back Donny. He had not called the police yet. His volunteer, Lisa, had not returned to the shelter yet either.

"What time is it?" asked Amber.

"It's about six PM," said Donny.

Amber, who was wearing only an oversized T-shirt, moved to the window and carefully peered outside. She was prepared to cringe in pain but didn't have to. She couldn't see for sure but the dying sunlight outside was muted. It was probably overcast.

"How... how has it been?" asked Amber, struggling to find words.

"Outside?" asked Donny, realizing it was a very strange thing for Amber to ask. "It's really cloudy today."

"Okay," said Amber quietly. She was already formulating a plan in her mind.

"You take a shower and then we need to talk Amber," reiterated Donny. "You probably want something to eat too."

Amber nodded and attempted a weak smile. She wasn't good at smiling.

Okay," said Donny as he temporarily stepped away.

About a block away from the shelter Detectives Justin Duke and Cindy Carbello were sitting in an unmarked police car watching Twin Pillars. "Looks like it's just an office person," said Justin. "False alarm."

Detective Carballo nodded as she watched a woman leave the shelter and make her way along the street. "All units stand-by. It's not the suspect," she toggled into the radio.

Justin glanced down at the computer screen in the car. It was displaying a picture of their suspect, Amber Collins, in the form of an old ID picture. It was odd for a homeless person to have an ID but he already knew that Amber wasn't a normal homeless person.

"What is taking so long?" hissed Justin quietly in the car.

"I know, I know," said Carballo. "This guy though, Donny Ruthman, he isn't a bad guy, he just knows his stuff and we have to cross all the 't's' and dot all the 'i's'."

They had gotten an anonymous tip about a young woman with a gunshot wound in the shelter. The tipster, a nurse, had seen the suspect's ID and she matched the description of the street person they were looking for. Normally, New York's finest would've gone in but, in this case, the Director of the facility was known by the police, not as a criminal, but as a man who would demand the police jump through every hoop. The suspect wasn't going anywhere so they were taking their time with a search warrant and an arrest warrant.

The detectives, along with a pair of marked units, were waiting for paperwork. Justin Duke's thoughts were dwelling on a conversation he had with Michael Renard the night before as well.

A short time later, inside the shelter, Amber got dressed quickly. She pulled on a pair of jeans, a short sleeved cropped hoodie, a pair of tennis shoes, and a light jacket. She looked like a fairly normal young woman again. She slid her ID into her back pocket.

"You look decent again Amber," said Donny, watching the girl.

Amber looked at him. "Thanks for everything," she said softly. He had helped her change the bandage on her side as well. The wound was healing nicely.

"I've known you from the streets for almost a year Amber and I don't get you," said Donny. "You're not hooking, you don't have a substance abuse monkey hanging on your back, you're not mentally challenged... there is no reason for you to live on the streets."

Amber looked down and pushed back her long dark hair. "There are other things," she said quietly.

"There usually are," responded Donny. "I know, I've been there. I've been trying to help you. Is that the issue? Won't you let anyone help you? What demons are chasing you Amber?"

"It's not that," said Amber. Her mind was racing. It wasn't a demon chasing her... it was the demon she was that made her life hell. She didn't know how to vocalize her issue. "It's... I don't know how to explain it."

"Try Amber - I want to help," answered Donny.

"I killed someone. I didn't want to but I did. I was defending myself. You have to believe me," she said slowly.

"And the gunshot wound?"

"That was the police. I... they wouldn't have believed me. I can't go to jail because..."

"Because why?"

"I can't say," blurted out Amber, struggling for words. "I can't put it into words. I... have to get out of the city Donny."

Ruthman took a deep breath. He knew himself well enough to realize what his flaw was: he cared too much. "Okay," he murmured softly. He handed Amber a hundred dollars in twenty dollar bills. "If you have to leave, okay. Take a bus overnight to Albany. There is a man there, a guy I just met; his name in Michael Renard. I'm pretty good at reading people. I don't know how, I don't know why, but my sense is that he can help you. He lives near Albany."

Amber looked at Donny intensely. "Thank you so much," she said softly.

"Hey! You can't just barge in here! Donny! Donny!" came the sharp call of the front desk volunteer.

Donny rose. "Stay here Amber!" He turned and headed toward the front desk, closing the door behind him. Amber pulled on her jacket and looked at the back window. She had no intention of waiting.

Two plainclothes detectives and a pair of uniformed officers were at the front desk, arguing with one of the overnight volunteers Donny recognized Cindy Carballo immediately. "What the hell is going on here?" said Donny. "You can't just force your way in here!"

"They say they have a warrant, Mr. Ruthman," blurted the volunteer.

"We do," barked Justin Duke. "A search warrant for the shelter and an arrest warrant for Amber Collins. We know she's here - where is she?"

"I don't know who that is," answered Donny.

"Donny, don't lie. This can go easy or hard," said Carballo.

"Cindy, this is a homeless shelter, we don't ask questions we just help people," responded Donny.

Amber heard the commotion at the front desk. She latched the door and turned to the window, tearing open the blind. The thin, rapidly dying sunlight of the cloudy evening filled the room. It stung the vampire but the clouds and the late hour filtered it; Amber pulled her hood up and quickly realized she could tolerate it. She felt her survival instinct rise.

Amber tried the window. The old aperture was jammed shut. She yanked on it but it wouldn't budge. Amber summoned her strength as her desperation rose and attacked the window, delivering a powerful kick to the edge of the pane. The glass shattered but it wasn't enough. She didn't want to cut herself to ribbons.

At the front desk the sound of Amber's kick echoed over the argument."Fuck!" hissed Justin as he hurried down the short hall to the back door with Cindy Carballo in tow. He tried the door. It was latched. Donny Ruthman fell silent. There was another booming noise from inside the room.

"Open it!" demanded Cindy, turning to Ruthman.

"I'll have to find the key."

Justin Duke lowered his shoulder and rammed the door with all his might. The simple latch was a frail thing and broke immediately. He burst into the room just in time to see Amber's feet exit the broken window frame. Justin ran to the window. The girl had dropped the five or so feet into the back alley, rolled expertly, and darted to the left.

"Stop! Police!" yelled Justin. Amber turned around for a moment, a long strand of her black hair flashing out from underneath her hood. She barred her teeth and hissed savagely before launching herself toward the edge of the alley. Justin hurled himself out of the window and landed far less gracefully than Amber had. He got on his feet and... paused... before toggling his radio: "She's running! Female suspect is northbound behind the Twin Pillars Shelter! I do not have the suspect in sight!"

Justin ran down the alley to the street, momentarily a NYPD patrol car pulled up, it's lights flashing and it's siren issuing a short whooping noise as a warning. The detective and the two officers looked around. Amber was nowhere to be seen. "Damn she's fast," observed one of the officers.

"Yeah," said Justin. "Canvass the area. I'll be right back." He circled back to the front of the shelter. A third unit had arrived and Cindy Carballo was escorting Donny Ruthman out of the building. He was in cuffs.

"You shouldn't have lied to me Donny," the New York detective said. "Rendering Criminal Assistance is pretty serious."

"I want a lawyer," said Donny Ruthman flatly.

"Get in," said Carballo, sitting Ruthman in the car. She looked at Justin. He shook his head.

Halfway across Manhattan, about an hour later, outside the Hirsh Center for Forensic Science a half dozen SUVs pulled to a halt. A score of agents piled out wearing vests clearly labeled FBI. A few minutes later a uniformed officer lead the vanguard of federal agents to the office of Jacob Yarland. The forensic scientist took off his reading glasses and looked up from his computer with a mask of surprise and shock on his face. Around him the curious eyes of his staff monitored the agents.

"What is this?" demanded Yarland.

One of the FBI agents, obvious the senior man, moved and spoke before the escorting officer could. "Dr. Yarland I presume?"

"Yes," answered Yarland hesitantly.

The agent offered a sheath of documents. "I'm Supervising Agent Thomas Kazski. We will be taking over the Ronsheen Tarrik murder investigation. You'll find a federal order in that paperwork for the transfer of all appropriate evidence to my team, including any electronic records. We expect the full cooperation of you and your staff."

"This is unbelievable!" exclaimed Yarland as he quickly shuffled through the paperwork. "I'm calling the DA!"

"A copy of the order has already been sent to the Manhattan DA and the New York State AG. Dr. Yarland, don't make this process more difficult than it has to be."

Yarland deflated abruptly.

Shelia Foster was in one of the labs double checking the yellow pea coat she had examined for hair evidence earlier. Two FBI agents came in and interrupted her work. "Is that jacket part of the Ronsheen Tarrik investigation?" asked one of the federal men.

"Yes it is," answered Shelia, trying her best to feign surprise.

"Please step away miss," said the agent. His counterpart, using latex gloves, took the coat and placed it in an evidence bag. Shelia didn't protest at all.

"Is the coat intact?"

"Ah... yeah," answered Shelia. "It's just like we found it. It's just missing three buttons. The hair follicles are in this bag here and all the data is over on my laptop right here."

"Thank you for your cooperation," said the second agent.

As the agents bagged the evidence for transport Shelia stepped outside the building into the cool air of the rapidly darkening evening. She leaned against a wall and pulled out her cell phone, dialing one of her contacts.

"Justin Duke," said the voice at the other end of the phone. "Hi Shelia."

"Can you talk?"

"Yeah," said Justin. "We got the hammer dropped on us when we got to the station. It was the FBI."

"Same here," said Shelia.

"We had one in custody, some guy from the shelter for Rendering Assistance. I guess the Feds are going to take charge of him after we book him. My guess is that they'll cut him loose."

"Probably," said Shelia. "I'll say my good-byes here and meet you at the diner we talked about in an hour."

"Roger that Shelia. I already took my leave of the NYPD - I did enjoyed working with Cindy," answered Justin. "I still don't like this. It's not like the John Doe Killer case. I let a suspect go. We had her for assaulting a police officer, killing a police canine, and probably manslaughter. This isn't how I do things. This is my red line."

"I totally get it. Think about it though Justin... what would we have done? Put a vampire in prison? That wouldn't have worked. She is one of them - let the Coven and their Cabal friends deal with her."

I suppose," said Justin. "Just remind me to never play chess with Michael Renard. He was right on about what would happen."

On the other side of the state my phone dinged with a text message from Shelia. I was in one of the magical spaces underneath Nebelgutt that we used for rituals. The entire Coven was gathered there with me. I looked at my phone and quickly read her message. I glanced around at my coven-mates. "It's go time guys," I said quietly.

Rayven was standing nearby. She was wearing a stylized black robe, delicate and translucent, that was completely see-through. The girl was completely naked underneath except for a pair of platform heels and a conical witches hat. Her soft skin had a tinge of polished bronze to it that seemed to match the long earrings she was wearing. Rayven's long auburn hair fell down to her bottom in rich locks.

The rest of my coven-sisters were there as well, all wearing nearly identical lingerie: stockings, garter belts, corsets, or teddies. Duane, Delia, and I were both wearing almost identical black robes that left our chests exposed. Delia was scurrying around setting up the material we would need for our ritual. She didn't have the magical knowledge to participate yet but was still able to help. All hands were on deck for this operation.

The room was in the shape of a hexagon and was dimly lit by the flicker of orange candles, each throwing off the rich scent of lavender. Delia had laid a large soft blanket in the room's center which had the image of a great human eye etched into it. Nearby, a bronze tripod would serve as the center of our ritual. Sabrine would act as our ritual master, reciting the actual incantations.

Finally, Delia handed out bronze bells to the remainder of my coven-mates while Franziska, always the teacher, stressed that our newest member should watch and learn from our activities.

"Okay everybody!" called out Sabrine. "Get to your places. Lets focus on this! Michael, Rayven, are you two ready?"

Rayven nodded and smiled at me. I said: "Yeah, I'm ready Sabrine."

I stripped off my robe and kneeled on the blanket facing Rayven. We locked hands, intertwining our fingers. To our side, facing us, Sabrine also kneeled with the bronze tripod in front of her. She carefully placed a button from the dingy yellow coat Shelia Foster had tested for hair fibers atop the tripod. I knew Sabrine would have preferred a lock of Amber's hair but this is what Shelia had been able to provide.

Hopefully, the button would be enough. It represented a perfect example of the 'Law of Contagion' a Hermetic rule that reached back to the earliest forms of hedge magic. It stated simply that 'Things once connected were always connected.' Amber had worn the coat this button had come from and so, the thought went, it would always be connected to her. Our goal with this ritual would be to find and track the elusive New York City vampire.

This would be a challenging ritual. We had used every method we could to empower it: the hexagonal shape of the room, the bronze tripod, the bells, the lavender scent, and the eye on the blanket. All of these things corresponded to the decan Sphandor, which governed knowledge. We had to find, track, and ultimately detain Amber before the Cabal did.

The final piece of the ritual would be Rayven and I making love as the magical forces cascaded around us. This wasn't something our typical rituals required but here, with a difficult target, a fairly weak connection to her, and racing against an organization that could easily do what we were attempting, my hope was that sex would provide an edge.

"Okay everyone: focus and be calm," said Sabrine. Several long moments passed as I stared into Rayven's lovely green eyes. A warm smile was upon her rich red lips. Sabrine held out her arms. "Bells," she ordered softly. The gentle rhythm of bell-ringing surrounded us as Sabrine began the ritual.

Sabrine called out the corners to begin our ritual, requesting the attention of the Lords of the North, East, South and West. The rest of the coven replied to each call in unison. I could feel the energy of magic start to grow in our ritual space but I was focused upon Rayven.

The ritual swirled around us as I kissed Rayven and we moved closed together. I could feel the soft warmth of her flesh against my chest. Our hands remained entwined but we moved them down as we got closer. I felt our kiss take on a life of its own in the heavy scent of the room and the hypnotic chime of the bells.

Sabrine started her incantation, focusing her thoughts upon the button on the tripod: "I call upon Umibael, Lady of Shortened Force! Grant me vision!"

"Hear our call!" responded the gathered Coven.

Rayven and I separated our fingers but got closer. My hands found her shapely waist as she ran hers along my back. I moved my kiss down to Rayven's neck. She tossed her hair back lightly and I felt and heard her react as I kissed and nibbled her neck. Ultimately one of my hands ran along the easy curve of Rayven's ass as her hand found my rock hard dick.

Sabrine could feel the magic energy in the room rise as well. She called out: "Egomet invoco Sphandor! Permitto ipse ego specto!"

"Allow our sight, we call!" responded the gathered coven.

The voices of the Coven continued as Sabrine repeated her incantation in sets of three. The rich flowery scent of lavender, the flicker of candlelight, the rolling sound of the bells in unison all seemed to gather a life and force of their own. The power of the magic coalescing in the chamber was obvious.

I was leaning back, my arms splayed behind me, my head back, my eyes toward the ceiling. Rayven was on her hands and knees, her lips wrapped around my cock as her head bobbed in rhythm to the sound of the bells and the rolling incantation that surrounded us. It was a strange sensation; I felt like I was out of my body, like I was watching myself and Rayven make love. This wasn't regular sex, it was something different, something primitive, empowering a type of ritual that dated back to a time when humans were little more than smart apes.

"Umibael! May your power fill me! May your vision take my eyes! We offer what we can and what we must to invoke your power!" cried out Sabrine. She had lost herself in the ritual as well.

Around us my coven-mates continued to ring their bells, continued to respond, and continued to lose themselves in the rote motions of the ritual. The power was building, all of us could feel it. The magical energy in the hexagonal chamber was rapidly increasing and it was here, at this moment, that Sabrine's role of ritual master or mistress was so important. She couldn't lose herself. She had to maintain discipline. She had to focus and direct the magical energy we had summoned.

If Sabrine lost control here, or if she failed to direct things properly, the magical energy would dissipate harmlessly - in a best case scenario. In a worse case scenario it would do something dangerous depending upon the decan we were using. This is how demons were accidentally summoned into the world, even by experienced sorcerers who lost control. This is how rips could be torn in the fabric of reality.

In the center of the ritual space Rayven and I were locked in passion. I was standing and her legs were wrapped around my waist, her arms around my body and her head buried in my shoulder. I held her and was deep inside her, thrusting with an energy that I knew I didn't have into female depths I knew she could not possess. We had far surpassed the state of a normal orgasm. Our sexual embrace was fueling something far more powerful than passion.

"Permitto ipse ego specto! Permitto ipse ego specto!" cried out Sabrine. "Umibael concedo ipse ego praeclarus vividus visio!

Then it was over.

"I can see her!" exclaimed Sabrine savagely. "She's in my minds eye!"

The bell-ringing stopped abruptly and whatever energy has enveloped us was gone. Rayven and I literally fell away from each other, collapsing onto the blanket. We were both breathing hard and covered in sweat. I pawed at Rayven, meeting her eyes. She smiled weakly at me and squeezed my arm with as much strength as her hand could muster.

Franziska cast away her bell and was at Sabrine's side in a moment. Delia reached Rayven in the same instant, pulling her coven-sister to her feet. Duane came to me, yanking me to a sitting position.

"Are you okay man?" Duane asked me.

"Yeah, yeah," I panted. "Rayven?"

"I'm okay," Rayven said, giving me a thumbs up as Delia helped her stand. "I'm just exhausted."

"Let me get you upstairs," said Delia to Rayven.

"I'm exhausted too but I don't have time for that. We have to move." Duane pulled me to my feet. "Sabrine?"

"I've got her! She's still in New York City and is looking to get on an overnight bus to... Albany!"

"That can't be a coincidence," said Duane.

"It isn't. She knows your name Michael I don't know how," interjected Sabrine.

"How long will your lock with her last?" asked Franziska.

"I don't know," said Sabrine. "It's strong now, really strong, but it will fade."

"The Cabal might already have their own vision locked on her - they are far more powerful than we are," said Franziska.

"I doubt it. The Cabal is a big organization with too many leaders who are too ambitious. None of them will put their necks on the line. I know those FBI guys were working for them. The Cabal has all the evidence now but they have a procedure and they'll follow it. Our Coven is smaller, faster, and more adaptable. We have the advantage if we move now."

"I hope you're right Michael," grimaced Franziska.

"I hope so too. If we get Amber we have leverage and can talk to the Cabal on equal terms - "

"That's a big if," interrupted Franziska.

"It is," I conceded. "But we're on this path now. We can't turn back. Franziska, you and the team here get a guest room ready for Amber. Anna, you can drive the new van. Duane, I'll need you ready to help contain our vampire friend and Sabrine, you guide us. I'll try to get some sleep on the trip to Albany. Someone needs to text Shelia Foster and set up a rendezvous with our cop friends."

"I'll do that," said Sabrine.

"We can get it done here," said Franziska. "I'm not as positive as the rest of you but I'm ready to help."

"Good," I said. "We need everybody on board. Lets go people."

3: Running with a Vampire

Sheila Foster and Justin Duke sat in Shelia's car in the parking lot of a gas station at the edge of Albany, New York. The glaring lights of the station cut through the darkness around the small car. Customers came and went without noticing the car parked in the corner of the lot.

"This is nuts," commented Justin.

"I know," said Shelia. "It's been nuts since last winter."

Justin reached into his coat and handed Shelia a holstered 9mm Glock pistol. "I've got my sidearm. You should be armed too, Shelia."

"I... I'm not a field officer. I..."

"We both know what this woman can do. I hope our Coven friends can contain her but are you willing to bet your life on that?"

Hesitantly, Shelia took the pistol and tucked it in her jacket.

There was a long pause between them.

"I wish Mark was here," said Shelia finally.

"I do too," answered Justin. "Probably for different reasons though."

Shelia smiled tightly and looked down. "Is it that obvious?"

"That you're interested in my partner?" observed Justin rhetorically. "Yeah it is - to everyone but him."

Shelia managed a nervous laugh.

"If you want some free advice maybe you should follow the lead of the Coven folks. Take a more direct approach. Mark is a great guy but when it comes to romance he is dumb as rocks."

"I'll think about that," said Shelia. "I think this is them."

A large white work style van made a sharp turn into the lot. It rumbled up to Shelia's small car. Shelia saw Sabrine glance out the passenger window. The forensic specialist climbed out of her car and was followed by Justin.

Sabrine and Shelia greeted each other and quickly hugged. Duane woke me up and opened the side door. He climbed out and greeted Justin. "Hey guys," I said, poking my head out the van.

"Hi Michael," answered Justin. "God you look beat."

"I am," I sighed.

"It was part of the ritual we used to locate our target. I still have a link with her," interjected Sabrine.

"Wow," said Shelia. "You can see her?"

"Yeah, if I close my eyes and focus but the intensity is starting to fade already."

"It was quite the ritual," added Anna from inside the van.

Sabrine closed her eyes and focused for a moment. "She's on a bus... about a half hour away... I'm losing her thoughts... I can't... dammit!"

"The link fades with time?"

"Yeah," answered Sabrine. "I was able to read her thoughts but now..."

"And she know who I am," I said.

"How is that possible?" asked Shelia.

"I don't know," I answered.

"In any case we have to move," began Justin. "A bus will come in at Trailways downtown. She's going to be a hard target in that environment. My guess is she'll try and find a hiding place for the day so we'll have to follow her and do the grab where nobody can see. It's Duane right?"

"Yeah," answered Duane.

"I'm going to want you outside the bus station watching for her so you can follow on foot. Take this." Justin handed Duane a headset. "You take one too Sabrine. Park your van so you have eyes on Duane here and the front of the station. Advise us when you see the target."

"Sounds good," said Duane.

"We'll be parked behind you as close as possible," continued Justin. "If she spots us she'll run. She's fast and believe me, she can defend herself."

"So if it comes down to a foot chase I'll have to out maneuver her," said Duane.

"Pretty much," answered Justin. "We all good Michael?"

I gave Justin a thumbs up and pushed myself back into the van. The police detective had a lot more experience in this type of thing than any of us did. Letting him take the lead was logical.

"Okay, lets go people. Duane, Sabrine - Shelia and I are on channel 12," said Justin, climbing into Shelia's car. The detective still had his doubts and concerns about this whole operation but he allowed his professionalism to drive him, ignoring the fact that they were committing a crime.

A half hour later Duane was easily leaning against a chain link fence near the Trailway bus terminal in downtown Albany. A raised freeway towered behind him, noisy with traffic even this time of night. He glanced up occasionally but tried to make a point of scrolling on his phone. As he watched an Adirondack Trailways bus rumbled into the parking lot.

"That's our bus," said Sabrine.

"Roger," replied Duane.

"You'll be looking for a young woman, slender with long black hair; she'll probably be wearing a black hoodie and a short brown leather jacket," said Justin.

"Understood," said Duane. He waited for a bit. "I think that's her: jeans, sneakers, brown jacket with the small backpack and the red stocking cap."

"Sabrine confirm," said Justin quietly.

"That's her," said Sabrine. "I can't get any thoughts anymore."

"Roger. I have eyes on the suspect. Can you see her Vehicle Two?"

There was a pause.

"That's you guys Sabrine," said Duane.

"Oh! Yeah. We can... we have eyes on the suspect," said Sabrine.

In the parking lot Amber glanced around nervously. She didn't have any luggage on the bus. She swung her backpack up and got her arms in both straps. Amber headed south, out of the parking lot, going underneath the highway, following along Green Street. Duane followed at a moderate distance.

"I've got eyes on the suspect," reported Duane.

"Roger, Vehicle One is rolling," said Justin.

"Vehicle Two is behind you," said Sabrine.

"How are we going to approach her?" asked Duane.

"She knows Michael's name. Maybe him?" asked Shelia.

"Michael is sound asleep," reported Sabrine.

"Dammit!" hissed Justin quietly without toggling his communications set. "Let him sleep. I'll do it," said Justin.

"Roger that," said Duane. "Suspect is still on Green. She's picking up her pace."

Justin scowled. It was dark and early in the morning, about three thirty or four, but they were in a residential area. They had two vehicles; they could only follow Amber for so long. There was a chance that any commotion on the street would result in a 911 call. They had to move fast.

"Okay, Vehicle Two hang back. Sabrine you still have a lock on her?"

"It's fading fast, Justin."

"There's a big empty building coming up. It would be a good place for her to hunker down. I'm going to make our move now. Duane, position yourself if she runs. Vehicle Two stand ready."

"Got it," said Duane. He turned and dropped into a light jog, turning again to try and get ahead of Amber. He didn't want to tire himself out.

Shelia pulled up behind Amber and Justin got out of the car. The young woman's face turned quickly, her long jet black hair flashing behind her. "Amber Collins! My name is Justin Duke. I'm here with Michael Renard. We want to help you. Don't run."

Amber's face curled in fear and anger. She barely registered the name Michael Renard but she did vaguely recognize Justin from New York. Her survival instincts kicked in almost immediately and she ran, sprinting away from Justin at almost full speed.

"She's running! Move! Move! Move! All units go!"

Despite Justin's police language everyone knew what he meant. Duane took a deep breath and launched himself down the street at a full run. The musician had been a linebacker in high school and now he hoped he had the right angle because he would only get one chance at the fleeing vampire.

Duane got lucky, very lucky. Amber entered his field of vision at almost full speed and he knew instantly that he had the angle on the fleeing woman. The lights of Shelia's car illuminated the scene as he lowered himself and tackled the girl at full speed, aiming low for her legs. Amber flipped up and around in the air and Duane remembered at the last minute to wrap the girl up - he managed to get his arms around one long leg. Together, the duo crashed to the pavement.

"Got you!" screamed Duane.

Amber hissed, baring her fangs. She tried to pull away but Duane clung to her. She kicked downward savagely, aiming for Duane's face, her instinct to fight or flee clouding out almost every other emotion she could have. Duane angled up his shoulder, catching her kick.

Shelia's car skidded to a halt near the struggle. Justin was first out, his handcuffs already in his hands. Shelia was right behind the detective. A block away, the Coven's van squealed around a corner, moving fast toward the fight.

Amber was fast. She kicked again, catching Duane's shoulder a second time. "Stop resisting!" screamed Justin, still using language he knew. The detective grabbed one of Amber's arms. She was supernaturally strong. He managed to get one cuff around her wrist but she twisted away. The open cuff was dangling from her wrist; Justin had just given Amber another weapon.

Shelia tried for Amber's other arm. Amber slashed at the woman with the dangling cuff. The steel found it's mark, savagely ripping Shelia's clothing and slashing down the length of her arm. Shelia staggered backward, wailing in pain, and fell hard on her bottom.

"Stop resisting!" roared Justin again, struggling to get his hands around Amber's arm. The vampire twisted and tried to pull herself free.

Duane got his arm around both of Amber's legs and yanked himself up, trying to use his free arm and hand to help Justin. Amber hissed and screamed with inhuman rage. Her eyes flashed with animal ferocity as she used the last weapon she had - Amber sank her fangs into Duane's forearm.

The drummer howled in pain as he tried to pull away. He felt his arm go numb as pain exploded in his brain. Shelia savagely shook her head as she fought through her own pain and got back to her feet, throwing herself back into the fray. The Coven's van skidded to a halt and the door opened. I was awake at this point but Sabrine was the first out. She had a syringe holding one of her alchemical concoctions in her hand.

"Jesus Christ just sit on her!" cried Anna from the driver's seat.

"Hold her arm still!" cried Sabrine.

I gathered all the strength I could muster and hurled myself into the melee. I grabbed Duane's arm. "She's got me! The bitch has got me!" he wailed.

"Push in like a dog bite! Push the fuck in!" I yelled.

Duane wailed in pain but he obeyed. I locked my hand onto Amber's forehead pushing as hard as I could. "Let... him... go!" I grimaced. Justin and Shelia both struggled with Amber's arms.

Finally, Amber released Duane. He dragged himself away, clutching his stricken arm. Amber's teeth and chin were smeared with blood. I forced the vampire back and felt - finally - her strength fade a little. I jammed my arm under her chin and used my body weight against her. Her eyes were almost red with savage fury as I looked into them.

"My name is Michael Renard! We're here to help you! Stop fighting us!" I didn't know how or where Amber had heard my name but as her strength started to go my name seemed to cut through her survival instincts and animal savagery.

The vampire relaxed a little and suddenly her eyes rolled back and her body went limp. To my side I saw Sabrine pull her syringe out of Amber's arm. Shelia was next to her, holding the arm.

"My fucking God!" exclaimed Sabrine between breaths.

I dragged myself off of Amber and clawed my way to Duane. He was sitting up rocking and whimpering. The wound on his arm was a savage, jagged bite, complete with torn flesh. "Jesus Christ," I murmured. Shelia, despite her own wounds was at our side in a moment.

"Sabrine, get the med kit out of my car!" she demanded.

"Duane," said Shelia. "Can you move your arm?"

"Not much... but... but... it's coming back."

"Good. The numbness is probably from her bite, kind of like it's designed to partially paralyze prey. The wound is bleeding a lot, probably from some anti-coagulation agent but I can bandage this up." Shelia glanced at the fallen form of Amber - she realized that a vampire was a near perfect predator and it sent a chill down her spine.

"You'll be fine Duane," I said. "Once we get to Nebelgutt either a Phthenoth healing spell or one of Sabrine's potions will fix you right up. Shelia, your arm..."

"It's just a long cut I'll be fine."

Justin rolled Amber over and secured her wrists with the handcuffs. He got up and looked around. He noticed a couple lights had flipped on in nearby houses. "We gotta get out of the street people. Do what you have to do in the van and get it to the side of the road."

A few moments later Justin had added a second pair of handcuffs and leg irons to our guest and we had her in the back of the van. Duane was bandaged and recovering. Sheila was patiently letting Sabrine bandage her arm as well.

"What did you inject her with?" asked Shelia.

"It was an Elixir of Epimenides... slumber. Our vampire should be out for 4-5 hours, plenty of time to get her to Nebelgutt."

"I didn't know you could inject one of your potions."

Sabrine smiled tightly. "Lets call it my first successful field test."

I called Franziska and put her on speaker. "Franziska is everything good on your end?" I asked.

"We're set here Michael. Do you have our guest?"

"Yeah. We have her - sure wasn't easy though. We have some wounded. Duane got bit and Shelia Foster got her arm tore up pretty bad."

"Okay," said Franziska. "I'll have Delia standing by. I can help her if need be." I nodded. Our newest coven-sister had displayed great ability with spells of the decan Phthenoth which focused upon healing and curative magic. She was quite possibly a natural healer which was an invaluable skill for the Coven.

"Roger that. We're going to transport her the old-fashioned way. I don't want to risk a teleport here."

"Sounds good. We'll see you shortly."

"I'll ride with you guys in the back of the van," said Justin Duke. "Just in case anything happens. I'm sure she's strong enough to break those handcuffs - but she can't break two pair. Shelia can follow us and get fixed up at your base and then take us home. I'll need my city issued gear back as well."

"Okay. Thanks for your help Justin. I know this stretched your limit. You too Shelia."

Justin nodded. "Yeah this is about as far as I can go. We couldn't of handled her on the street. We would have had to kill her. It's good that she can't hurt herself or anyone else I suppose. What is your game plan?"

"That's up to the Cabal. The next move is theirs."

A few moments later our pair of vehicles were heading toward Nebelgutt as Albany woke up around us. I had placed a black sheet behind the driver and passenger seats of the van to block the sun and protect our guest. I wasn't sure what would protect us though.

4: The Cabal's Inquiry

Amber was laying on a large bed in a room at Nebelgutt. Justin Duke had removed the handcuffs and leg irons. We had taken off her shoes and jacket, placing them near a chair across the bedroom. Franziska had searched Amber's backpack. It contained some clothes, toiletries, and her ID. It too was near the chair in the room.

Franziska was standing next to me as we observed our guest on a security camera. "How is our team?" I asked my coven-sister.

"Okay overall," answered Franziska. Rayven is awake and feeling fine after the ritual. Duane is with Coral and Delia; he's kind of acting like a big baby about the whole thing."

I smiled. "That sounds like him. He just needs a little extra attention is all."

Franziska smiled crookedly as well.

"Why did that ritual hit Rayven so much harder than me?"

"During a sexual ritual most of the energy is channeled through the female participant. It's just how men and women handle magic differently."

I nodded. "Makes sense."

"Amber's room is magically sealed. She can't break the doors or windows of the bedroom or the bathroom. She could break items in the room - this camera, the TV, or items of furniture but that would be kind of pointless on her part. We'll have to deliver food and blood manually."

"I hope we have enough blood," I said.

"Well, Sabrine always keeps a small amount for her alchemy. She ordered five pints from the medical place she gets it from. We got the delivery yesterday. My concern is whether or not cold blood will feed this girl."

"We'll deal with that if we have to."

"And the Cabal?" asked Franziska.

"I figure by this time they've used a similar location spell to what we did. I doubt they can scry into Nebelgutt but they will get a good idea of the power this place has. Ultimately the Cabal has two options: they can send someone to talk or they can try to seize the girl. That's the risk."

"It's a big one Michael," said Franziska seriously.

"It is - I've never debated that. My bet is the Cabal will want to talk. I doubt one of their assaults could get through Nebelgutt's defenses. They would have to bring in one of their Masters or even a Grand Master to do that."

"In any case they'll know all about us, both the money and Nebelgutt," said Franziska.

"Yeah, but that's unavoidable. I'm pretty sure the Cabal can buy and sell countries. They won't give a damn about the Rathmore Family Trust. Nebelgutt, on the other hand... I'm sure they will be very interested in Nebelgutt's power. The wild card in Callistra. She's old, powerful, and enigmatic which together makes her really dangerous. She is also helping us in a way. I wish I knew why."

"Cabalistic politics are way too dangerous for me," said Franziska.

"Me too. It looks like our friend is waking up."

On the camera Amber moved her head and arm groggily. She rolled over to one side. Sabrine's alchemical elixir was wearing off. A moment later Amber sat up on the bed, looking around in a panic.

There was a flash of bluish energy as Franziska's teleport spell sent us into the room. My coven-sister and I were both dressed in dark robes, though hers showed quite a bit more skin than my outfit did. I was holding my staff, Sunshard. Franziska had a different weapon, a short, rod-like spear called Willbreaker. I honestly didn't really want to know what it did.

Amber swung herself around, getting on all fours atop the bed. "Where am I!?" she demanded.

"Calm down," I replied, trying to keep my voice even and flat. I shifted slightly, putting my side toward the angry vampire.

"Answer my question!" Amber hissed.

"You are at a place called Nebelgutt in upstate New York. It is safe. No one will harm you here," said Franziska.

"Who are you? Why did you kidnap me?"

"We are members of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove," I said. "My name is Michael Renard. This is my coven-sister Franziska. She is our quarter-mistress."

Amber visibly calmed down.

"You know my name," I continued. "How do you know my name?"

Amber's eyes narrowed as she considered her answer.

"How?" I asked again.

She still hesitated.

"Listen Amber," I said forcefully. "We want to help you. If we hadn't taken you the police would've gunned you down in the street. You have to let us help you, though. If you fight us it will not go well." I moved Sunshard forward. "This is my staff. It is called Sunshard. It does many things and I'm sure you can guess what one of those things is from the name. What happens next depends upon you."

Amber's deep brown eyes shot between me, Sunshard, and Franziska. "Release me!" she demanded.

"No," said Franziska flatly.

"I heard your name from Donny Ruthman. He runs a shelter in New York City. He was trying to help me. He gave me some money and told me to go to Albany. Donny said I should find you."

I nodded. "That's the connection," I said quietly.

"Why are you holding me?" asked Amber.

"You killed someone - "

"I was defending myself!" interrupted Amber.

"I'm sure you were," I continued. "You killed a police canine and assaulted an officer."

"I was defending myself!" said Amber again. "I just want to be left alone!"

"Unfortunately that is no longer an option," said Franziska.

"So are you just going to keep me here forever?" spat Amber.

"Obviously no," I said. "But that is a discussion for another day. Are you hungry?"

Amber just looked down and scowled.

"I take that as a yes," I said. Almost on cue Delia appeared in a flash of magic. Our newest coven-sister was holding a tray - it held a large ham sandwich on rye, a bottle of water, a bowl of chips, and a second bowl of deep red liquid.

"Hi, I'm Delia." said the girl as she set the tray on the bed and stepped back. "Your name is Amber right?"

Amber just scowled and looked at the food.

"The sandwich is ham and swiss," said Delia. "The bread is from Frellike's in town. It's really good."

Amber dipped her finger in the red liquid and licked it off. "This is human blood," she commented.

"Yeah," I said. "Will that work for you?"

"Yes," said Amber. "It's like eating fast food for me but this will work."

"Good," I replied.

Amber wasn't paying attention anymore. She was attacking her food. The girl drank the blood first, lifting the bowl and simply gulping it down. She wiped her mouth and drank some water before moving onto the sandwich a second later. "Well, that answers a question," I said rhetorically. Amber just glared at me.

"The remote for the TV is on the nightstand. Hit the red button to turn it on. It's pretty easy to use," I said.

"When you're done I'll come back and get your tray Amber. It was nice to meet you," said Delia.

My coven-sisters and I disappeared a moment later, reappearing in my office. Franziska immediately sighed.

"Well, we got her calmed down at least, and the blood situation will work," I said.

"It's too bad she is so angry. She's a pretty girl," commented Delia. "I have a schedule worked out for her mealtimes. It'll be a bit challenging with her being a night owl but we can make it work."

"She's a killer," said Franziska solemnly. "The longer she is here the more danger we are in."

I nodded. "I wonder why Ruthman would refer this person to me?"

"That's unknown unless you ask him. It might simply be gifted insight. Some people just have more of a sense of the supernatural than others," responded Franziska.

The next morning I was in my office going over some additional paperwork Donny Ruthman had sent me. Apparently he was no worse for the Amber situation. The Feds had released him shortly after they had seized all the evidence from the state murder case. All charges had been dropped. The fact that the Cabal was able to 'call in a favor' with a federal agency was a bit disconcerting. I was waiting for the next phase of this situation to begin and I didn't wait long.

I got a text from Rayven up on the fourth floor asking me to come up by her quickly. I had tasked her and Sabrine with keeping an eye on Nebelgutt's masking illusion and defenses as well as physically watching for intruders. I arrived up by my coven-sisters in a few minutes.

Rayven smiled broadly at me as I approached. The two girls were sitting in one of the dormer windows in a small room off our common area. Sabrine was looking outside with a pair of old binoculars. "We have company Michael," said Rayven.

I looked out the window. Indeed we did. A single man was at the gates of Nebelgutt. A motorcycle was parked on the road behind him and both his helmet and a colorful motorcycle jacket was sitting on it's seat. A backpack was nearby. He had drawn a simple ritual circle in front of the old crumbling gate and three burning sandalwood candles encircled the rune. He was lost in the intricacies of spellcasting.

"Looks like he is using the decan Sphandor, probing Nebelgutt's defenses. The spell is not aggressive but it's definitely there," said Sabrine.

"Knock, knock - is anyone home?" commented Rayven.

"The guy is kind of hot too," said Sabrine, smiling.

"Sabrine! You're such a slut!" said Rayven.

"What? The dude is cut. What do you want me to say? I wish he would take his shirt off." answered Sabrine.

"Let me look," I requested, taking the binoculars from Sabrine. I examined the scene in front of me quickly. "Okay, this is our answer. We should head down there; one of you needs to come with me."

"I will," said Rayven.

"Sounds good," I replied.

"Should we go in full ritual gear?" she asked.

"I don't think so. He seems to be pretty casual. My guess is that this is a messenger." I handed the binoculars back to Sabrine and turned to Rayven. "I'm ready when you are."

Sabrine continued to observe. "Spellcasting is easier when a guy takes his shirt off," she said to herself.

Rayven placed her hand on my shoulder and a moment later we appeared at the gate of Nebelgutt. The young man we had been watching stopped his spell immediately and stepped back a bit in surprise. He regained his composure quickly. Sabrine was right - the sandy-haired man was quite good-looking.

"You are members of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove," said the man, bowing his head.

"We are," I answered.

"It is a great honor to met you. I bear greetings from your friends in the Breath of Amaunet Lodge. My master, the Adeptus Morgan, seeks a council of opinions with your leader, the respected and powerful Adeptus Michael Renard. The right honorable theoricus Raymond Magnieur will also be in attendance." The man held out his hands and a scroll magically appeared in it.

"Ah... okay," I began, a bit taken aback by the man's formality. "I'm Michael, this is my coven-sister Rayven."

"It is an honor to be in your presence adept," said the man without raising his eyes. Rayven and I exchanged a strange glance.

"Okay friend," I began. "We don't do whatever it is you're doing here. Frankly the formality is making me uncomfortable. I'm Michael. This is Rayven. What's your name?"

The messenger was obviously surprised. "Ah... well... I'm Steve Winholm. I'm with the Breath of Amaunet Lodge. I'm a novice and I am at your service."

"Cool Steve," I said, shaking his hand after taking the scroll. "What is this scroll?"

"It's a spell to get to the site of the meeting in the realm of Briah and an official invitation," said Steve. He was in a bit of shock. In his experience he had never seen spell-casters behave like this.

"Okay," I said. "You can tell your friends I will be there."

"Yes Adept."

"It's Michael," I replied.

"Right," said Steve, still a bit dumbfounded.

Rayven and I slowly turned and walked back toward Nebelgutt. I unfurled the scroll and examined it. "Rayven, what is a theoricus?" I asked quietly.

"I'm not a hundred percent sure," Rayven said. "I think it's a cabal rank."

"We should probably look that up before we go."

Steve got on his motorcycle and headed back to New York City. The low level cabalist was confused.

Epilogue: The Living Oasis

There was a flash of magic and Rayven and I were no longer at Nebelgutt. We were somewhere else. A blast of warmth hit us and it was followed by the rich scent of life and water. The scene in front of us was magnificent.

A pool of water the color of twinkling sapphire filled a pool formed in a deep silvery surface rock. Above the pool more rock rose, banded with the colors of ecru, hazel, and henna. An active and playful waterfall tumbled down the brown stone to the pool below, splattering the surface with water and filling the air with sparkling splashes that caught the sun and glittered like jewels.

The oasis was surrounded by swaying greenery - date palms, ferns, and bushes heavy with plump carmine colored pomegranates. The plants were all of a rich jade color and seemed to capture the vibrant energy of the place around them. Rayven's hand went to her mouth as she murmured: "The Wadi Bendi Kharfala... the Living Oasis... I never thought I would see this place."

I didn't respond. I was lost in the scene around me. I turned and beheld the desert behind us. Sand dunes of various sizes stretched to the horizon, reflecting the glow of a perfect sun in a sky of deep sharp beryl devoid of clouds. The sunlight played over the sculpted dunes like a gazelle, reflecting into patterns of fuchsia and ochre.

"This must be Briah... like the Moonlit Grove..." I stammered. Rayven nodded. In Briah, the Iconic Realm, the decanic forces that made the universe were better ordered and much more pure. Colors and images were sharper and more vivid.

I took Rayven's hand as we looked around. I had Sunshard. We were both wearing black robes and cloaks, though Rayven's outfit was far more form fitting and rather translucent. We had decided against her wearing lingerie, thinking it best not differentiate ourselves from our Cabal cousins more than needed.

"Where are they? Which way should we go Michael?" asked Rayven.

"This way - be careful on the rocks," I said. I still had Rayven's hand and she cautiously followed my lead across the rock and around the glittering pool. She was wearing platform high heels and she had to walk gingerly. I pushed aside some fern plants and moved around a large palm tree and then I saw them.

Two men were waiting for us. Each of them had a staff of gnarled wood and were wearing nearly identical brown robes. The first had grayish hair tied in a ponytail and a stylish short beard. The second was far more mysterious. His hood was up and his face was lost in shadows. The staff he carried was of rich ebony wood, finely wrought with runes the color of gold. It was topped with a large crimson crystal in a elongated mounting.

"Welcome to the Oasis most honorable adeptus. I am Morgan, the leader of the Breath of Amaunet Lodge," said the man with the ponytail.

"And I am Raymond Magnieur, theoricus of the Cabal," said the other man. His voice was low and contained power. I thought I sensed who was in charge here... but I was wrong.

"Welcome Adeptus Renard," said a third voice from one side. An older man seemed to appear from nowhere. He had long, shoulder length gray hair and wore a felt hat the color of lilac with a red plume in it. His costume was... archaic I guess. He was wearing a vest and a billowy shirt underneath with a doublet and breeches.

The oddly dressed man continued: "And I see you have brought one of your colleagues with you, Rayven Rathmore if I am not mistaken. Surely she must be one of the finest assets of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove."

"I'm sorry sir," said Rayven. "You have me at a disadvantage." Her words harkened back to a century ago when Nebelgutt was a palace for the rich of the Edwardian era.

"Apologies miss. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the Magister Jose Antonio Vazquez, chief alchemist of King Felipe IV of Spain." He bowed deeply, more to Rayven than to myself.

"A magister is a master..." whispered Rayven. "He is a Master of the Cabal."

I heard my companion but didn't respond. I focused myself instead. I was facing combat here, no less dangerous than what we had faced last winter against a demon. The weapons were words but they would be as sharp and as deadly as any blade around.

Then there was a fourth voice from the final direction, a female voice. "Let not this august body forget me," the voice said. It was Callistra, wearing voluminous black robes, a wide-brimmed hat, and bearing her trademark heavy cane. Her hair was tied long in the back. She too had literally appeared out of thin air.

"Ah," said Jose Antonio, bowing again. "The most fine and capable philosophus Callistra, arriving by way of Constantinople, Istanbul, and Rumelia no doubt."

"No doubt Master Antonio Vazquez," said Callistra. Her voice held the smooth steel of command. I was suddenly unsure of who was the most dangerous person here.

Raymond Magnieur spoke: "I see that all of the required parties are here. We will discuss the fate of the rogue vampire Amber Collins and the disposition of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove."

"The Coven is not an issue here honorable theoricus, said Callistra rather sharply. "Perhaps there was a misunderstanding - on my part of course."

"No doubt," said Magnieur. "The two issues are most certainly linked. I must apologize if I was not clear."

I glanced at Master Vazquez. He seemed amused by the goings on as his eyes focused upon Rayven. He spoke next: "Perhaps Adept Renard could provide an update on the status of the rogue vampire?"

"I can do that," I said. "I apologize for any breeches of protocol; I have not been fully instructed in the ways of the Cabal - "

"And that is the problem," interrupted Magnieur quietly.

I ignored the interruption. "The rogue vampire Amber Collins has been secured at our home base of Nebelgutt. She has been magically contained. She can do no further damage and reveal no more secrets to the world. We seek the wise council of our cousins and allies in the Cabal as to her final disposition."

"Well said adeptus," responded Vazquez.

"Has she began instruction in the nature of the Cabal? Has she been told of the Pavane des Vampires? What steps have you taken to prepare her for a future with us Renard," spat Magnieur.

Wisely I ignored what seemed like a subtle insult aimed in my direction.

Callistra rose to my defense: "Such things are not required of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove honorable theoricus. I believe the tasks you mentioned were placed upon the Breath of Amaunet Lodge?"

"They were great philosophus," said Adept Morgan. "Under the enlightened guidance of the most capable theoricus Magnieur we have utilized our allies to reach out to the Pavane des Vampires but they have not responded as of yet. We have also acted to remove any risk of further magical exposure by utilizing our government contacts. Unfortunately, we do not have the rogue vampire in custody so our options are limited."

"We of the Coven of the Moonlit Grove acted with alacrity to defend the twin secrets of magic and the existence of the Cabal," I said. "I do not fault our brothers and sisters in the Breath of Amaunet Lodge - perhaps the guidance of theoricus Magnieur was lackadaisical in this moment."

I could sense Magnieur scowl at me under his hood.

"So this situation has been contained," said Vazquez. "The risk of exposure is gone and the rogue vampire is secured. It seems that we owe a debt of gratitude to our friends in the Coven of the Moonlit Grove."

"This is true magister. However, the greater issue of integrating the Coven into the Cabal - " began Magnieur.

"Is not on the table for this discussion!" interrupted Callistra. Her voice contained a distinctive edge this time. I glanced at Vazquez. He was smiling crookedly.

"I tend to agree with the esteemed philosophus," said Vazquez. "The Coven of the Moonlit Grove can be discussed at a later date."

"I seek only to advance the interests of the Cabal," said Magnieur.

"Of course," said Callistra, a bit calmer now. "All of us here seek to expand the influence and power of the Cabal. I feel that, at this point, the situation is well in hand. Adept Morgan, once you hear from the Pavane, please reach out to Adept Renard."

"Of course philosophus," said Morgan.

"Then our business here is complete... for now," said Magnieur. He was glaring at me. He had been out maneuvered, by me and by Callistra's strange support of the Coven. Magnieur and Morgan vanished in a flash of magic.

"We of the Coven shall take our leave as well," I said. "I am glad that we have been able to aid our friends in the Cabal."

"Indeed," said Vazquez. "And I will hope that the lovely Rayven graces me with her presence in the future."

Rayven and I returned to the more normal world of Nebelgutt a moment later, leaving Callistra and Vazquez alone at the Living Oasis. The two powerful cabalists stared at each other for a long moment. "I did not expect to see you here Callistra," said Vazquez. "The young adept Renard seems as capable as you have said."

"He is," said Callistra.

"And what, Callistra is your game."

"You forget yourself Master Vazquez; as a philosophus I am not beholden to you or any other cabalist."

"Very true Callistra. Many eyes are now focused upon the Coven of the Moonlit Grove and the power they have, eyes that are not necessarily here."

"I am quite aware of that," said Callistra.

"I have known you for many centuries milady. I do not wish to oppose you. You would find myself and my operatives to be formidable opponents."

"Indeed," said Callistra with a slight smirk on her face. "I trust you are aware... that the opposite is also true. Good day magister."

Vazquez bowed his head deeply and the two wizards vanished simultaneously, leaving the Oasis in peace.

THE END

10.7.2026